Acheron laughed. “You’ve no idea.”
“Oh, you would be wrong there. Got a pretty good earful tonight.”
Still laughing, he nodded. “I can imagine.” Clearing his throat, he sobered. “How are you doing?”
“Been better.” Urian tucked the blanket he’d draped over Simi higher around her chin. “But she helped a lot.”
“Yeah, she has a way of doing that.” Acheron jerked his chin toward the door. “You got a minute?”
“Why?”
“There’s something I think you want to see.”
“Unless it’s my father’s head on a platter, not really.”
Acheron lowered his sunglasses to cover those screwed-up eyes. “I wouldn’t take that bet. C’mon.”
Taking care to not disturb Simi, he got up to follow Acheron toward the back door. Acheron used his powers to open it so that Urian could see the dawn that was breaking over the water.
Out of habit, he hissed and headed for the shadows.
Acheron caught his arm. “It won’t hurt you. I swear.”
His breathing ragged, Urian looked up at him in disbelief. “Really?”
“I swear,” he repeated. “I know you want to see it.” He manifested a pair of sunglasses for Urian and held them out to him. “You’ll need these.”
Urian put them on and then slowly, carefully made his way to the door and then to the deck outside. It was a chilly morning. Biting, in fact. But he didn’t care.
His gaze was held captive by the amber rays breaking through the darkness, setting the landscape aglow.
In all honesty, he had no idea how long he stood there. A million thoughts spun through his head. A billion memories. But the one that kept playing loudest was the one of him and Paris. Tears choked him as he looked over to Acheron. “I wish my brother could have seen it.”
“I know.”
He shook his head. “You don’t know what it’s like to be born with a twin, Acheron. To come into the world with someone.”
“Actually, I do.”
He gaped at that. “Pardon?”
“Not something I share. With anyone. Unlike you and Paris, my brother and I were enemies. He was a selfish bastard who conspired against me. But life takes us to places we don’t always want to go, and in directions we never think it will.”
Urian laughed bitterly as he considered the understatement ofthat,given that he was a Daimon currently living in the guesthouse of a Dark-Hunter.
“But,” Acheron continued, “we all have a choice. Toss the oar and let the current take us wherever. Or grab the oar with both hands and fight the current with everything we have. In the end, we all determine what fate we embrace. For we are either pawns or players. The final decision is always ours.”
“Don’t worry. I’ve no intention of being a pawn. There’s too much piss and vinegar in me for that. You may have taken my fangs from me, Acheron, but at my core, I remain a demon. Forever. Venom was the milk I drank from my mother’s breast, and I won’t rest until I bathe in the blood of my father.”
His father hadn’t quelled him with his actions.
He’d fueled him.
October 1, 2008
Urian was aghast at what he found in the temple housed next to Acheron’s in Katateros. When he’d heard a noise, he’d expected one of the souls to have escaped out of one of the other areas. But this was no Shade.
This was a man.
