“Boy, you don’t want to make an enemy of me.”
He laughed at Acheron’s threat. “We were born enemies the minute you set your soldiers after my people.”
Growling, Acheron blasted him.
Urian caught it with his glowing arm and returned the blast. The shock on Acheron’s face was priceless. With a battle cry, Urian charged his sword with his powers and went in to attack. Just as he would have struck, a portal opened and grabbed him, sucking him back to Kalosis.
He was slammed unceremoniously to the ground at his father’s feet so hard that for a full minute he thought he’d shattered every bone in his body.
Gaping, his father stood, then rushed to his side. He pulled Urian’s helmet from his head and quickly checked him for injuries as Apollymi appeared in one of her finer rages.
Typhoon winds whipped through the hall, tearing at the Apollites and Daimons gathered there and sending anything not tied down flying. Her white hair spiraled around her body as she glared at the two of them.
“You. Don’t. Ever. Attack. The. Elekti!” Those short, clipped words reverberated through the hall.
Since his father hadn’t been there, he had no idea what she was talking about. “What?”
She pointed out Urian. “He attacked that which is never to be touched. If you ever dare strike the Elekti again, I will have you flayed until there is nothing left of you but the marrow of your bones. Understood?”
Given the amount of pain he was in? “Understood, akra.” Urian panted, trying to get his lungs to work again.
Still in a huff, she vanished.
His father cupped his cheek. “What happened?”
Urian cradled his arm to his chest. It was definitely broken. “I don’t know. He’s the leader of the Dark-Hunters. Acheron. I think he’s part Charonte, or part god. He had powers unlike any I’ve ever seen or felt.”
Hugging him, his father kissed his forehead. “All right. Let’s see you tended. And make sure you cut him a wide berth. In the future, I want you and the others to stay low and out of Acheron’s sight. Nothing is worth losing one of you.”
Urian agreed out loud, but inside, he was seething. There was something wrong about this. All the way around.
And he wanted to know what.
February 18, 1650 BC
Urian scowled as he heard a woman crying. That was not something he was expecting. Grimacing, he got up slowly from his bed and forced himself to stand in spite of his wounds and headed for where she seemed to be.
From the opening of Xyn’s old cave in Kalosis, he saw Katra sitting alone near the falls, weeping.
At first, he started to return to bed and leave her there. It wasn’t his business. She definitely didn’t concern him.
But those sobs were gut-wrenching. Sighing, he headed for her even while he called himself all kinds of stupid for it.
“Here.”
Kat looked up with a sharp gasp.
Urian wiggled the handkerchief in front of her face.
She took it and wiped her eyes. “Thank you.”
“Any time. Are you all right?”
She blew her nose loudly, then skimmed his half-naked body, which was bruised and covered with healing injuries. “Better than you, obviously.”
He wouldn’t argue that. He’d almost been gutted by a Dark-Hunter who’d been working with demons for helpers. Bastards. The worst was a massive cut across his chest. Half an inch closer and they would have had his mark and killed him.
By the expression on Kat’s face, she realized it, too. She wiped her nose.
