She hadn’t even thought about that.
Yeah, that would do it. It was why she avoided preying on psycho humans. That tainted blood could overwhelm and taint a Daimon. Those corrupt souls were so evil that they had a nasty tendency to infect the Daimon who tried to feed on them, often turning the Daimon into a psychotic killer. There were some strong enough that they could handle taking souls like that.
Urian had been one. Davyn another. In fact, Davyn only fed on those souls, as had Urian when he’d been Daimon. In a way, they kept humanity safe by removing those members from society.
However, it wasn’t an easy thing to do, and after she’d taken one once, it’d been enough for her to know to leave them well enough alone.
Stryker let out another long, tired sigh. “She was always weak. More human than Apollite. Never really a Daimon at all. It’s why she couldn’t kill for herself. The blood Urian had fed on mutated her. Driven her insane. We weren’t the ones who attacked the Apollite commune in Minnesota.Shewas.”
“What?” Davyn scowled at him.
Rubbing his hand over his face, Stryker winced. “It’s why I had you keep Urian occupied that night. Trates and I got the call for help. I knew Phoebe was living there. Had known about her for a long time, contrary to what Urian thought—they’d told me about it not long after he set her up with an apartment. I just felt so betrayed that Urian had taken Cassandra and Wulf there, too. I didn’t mind that he’d converted Phoebe. I could almost respect that. It was the Dark-Hunter I resented him for. That he’d lie and shield our enemy from me when he knew how much I wanted that last bitch dead. And Kat. That was the bitterest pill. He even married them!”
Tears glistened in his eyes. “Even so, I couldn’t let him know about Phoebe and her killing spree. When I saw what she’d become, I knew Urian would blame himself for it. Hate himself for the monster she’d become. I didn’t know what to do.”
“So you killed her.” Davyn had a sick expression on his face.
He shook his head. “I started to, but I couldn’t. I’m not as cold as you think. Instead, I brought her back here and locked her in the catacombs. Originally, I was going to tell Urian and let us deal with it together. Then when we were inDante’s Inferno… and Acheron showed up in all his arrogant, prick glory. The Dark-Hunter was there with that stupid demon disguised as a baby, and one thing led to the next… my anger got the better of me. Next thing I knew, I’d cut his throat and left him there to die.” A tic started in his jaw. “Just like Phoebe, he was never really one of us either.”
Medea gaped at her father. “And in all this time, you didn’t think to tell him the truth? To tellanyof us the truth?”
“To what purpose? The deed was done. Besides, you saw her. She’s not his wife anymore. She doesn’t know herself. Wouldn’t know him. For all intents and purposes, she might as well be gallu. And it’s not like he’s going to forgive me at this point, anyway.”
“You did cut his throat, Father.”
“I know, Medea. I was there. Believe me, I’ve relived that nightmare more times than I care to recount. It’s never far from my thoughts. Even when my eyes are wide open. That night is one of the few things in my life I would give anything to do over and do differently.”
Her mother moved to hug him and offer him comfort.
But sadly, like Urian, Medea couldn’t quite forgive him for his actions. As a mother, she’d never be able to harm her child. Not for any reason.
Even betrayal against her. Having lost her child, there was no way she’d be responsible for the loss of her baby’s life.
And it made her wonder if Urian wasn’t right. If one day her father would do the same to her.
How could she trust anyone? Ever?
Yet when she met Falcyn’s gaze, she saw in him a promise of faith. A blood oath.
Like her, he’d known bitter betrayal. Pain.
Loneliness.
Lies.
And he wouldn’t do that to another. Because he knew the bitter taste of it.
She was nothing more than the product of broken dreams and broken trust. Of heartache and sorrow.
But in his eyes, she finally saw a future. And for the first time, it wasn’t bleak.
Against her better sense, she reached out for him.
Falcyn saw the torment deep in Medea’s eyes and he recognized it for what it was.
Fear. Misery. Crushed dreams that hurt so deep down inside that she’d had no choice except to deny that they’d ever been there.
He felt them, too. Had buried them beneath an apathy that had left him unable to feel anything for so long he’d begun to believe the lie of it all.
