His head throbbing, he strangely found himself in Xyn’s cave. Sighing, he sat down on her bed and hung his head in his hands as he remembered simpler times.
God, how he missed it. Those nights of lying here with her. Of stretching back on her scales while she heated them to keep him warm. In all his life, she was the only one who’d ever really taken care ofhim.
While he loved Phoebe to distraction, it wasn’t the same. She was his responsibility. He was forever worried about her. Sighing, he forced himself not to think about things that were long gone. This was the present.
If only he could see some kind of future. But with every heartbeat, that was getting darker and darker. And less likely as a possibility.
Urian had doneeverything he could to get word to Phoebe and Cassandra not to panic. Jefferson was safe. He’d made sure of it. Shadow was guarding him.
But his father was in such a state that he didn’t dare try a more direct line of communication. Not the way Daimons were dropping. Right now, Stryker was taking a shot at anyone who looked at him cockeyed.
And even a few who didn’t.
His phone vibrated again. Urian glanced at it. This time it was Shanus.
What were they doing? Swapping his number around for shits and giggles? They were about to get him killed if they didn’t stop. This was the fifth time Shanus had called.
Not the time or the day …
Eyes wide, he exchanged an annoyed stare with Davyn, who rubbed his back comfortingly.
Until his father neared them. The kill-them-all-and-let-Zeus-sort-them-out expression on his face caused Davyn to shrink away.
“You ready,pido?”
“Always.”
His father nodded, but something in his eyes made Urian’s blood run cold. What had happened? He glanced over to Davyn, who looked as freaked out as he felt. For the merest second he had the thought to go exchange his black jeans and shirt for the armor Xyn had made for him centuries ago.
And to get his shield, too.
With no choice, they followed his father into the portal that was to take them into Dante’s Inferno, where Wulf would be waiting with who knew how many Were-Hunters and Dark-Hunters. While Wulf had been told to come alone, none of them were dumb enough to believe for one yoctosecond that he would. Not while Acheron was alive. He would protect his Hunters at all costs. Since Dante Pontis owned the club, they knew the panther Were-Hunter would be there, along with his large number of brothers and cousins.
The rest was anyone’s guess.
Urian took a deep breath and stepped in. Sure enough, as they appeared inside the nightclub, it was loaded for Daimon. Hunters abounded. Urian saw Wulf immediately and made sure to keep his expression stone and unresponsive, or else they’d both pay for it. He immediately moved over to the side so that in case that was his infant son Erik Wulf had strapped to him, he could help protect the baby.
His father looked around with an evil, gloating smile. “How nice … you brought dinner for my men. If only everyone could be so considerate.”
Several of the Daimons laughed. Urian wasn’t one of them.
But one of the Dark-Hunters laughed. A tall, dark-haired one who looked about as crazed as his father had been acting lately. “You know, I almost like this guy, Acheron. Pity we have to kill him.”
His father slid a sideways glare to the Dark-Hunter before his gaze went to Acheron. The two of them stared at each other without a word or emotion.
Urian, however, lost his composure as he realized how many times he’d seen Acheron over the years. More than that, he had a sudden epiphany of who and what he really was.
And why Katra visited them.
Holy shit!
Acheron was Apollymi’s real son!
How had he missed it all these years? His father thought of himself as Apollymi’s son, but he wasn’t. He was just her adopted child. That was her full-blooded Apostolos. The child she mourned for.
Acheron was why she sat by the mirror all the time. She was watching over him!
Everything was so clear now.
