And Urian had yet to find some way to settle the score between them.
November 8, 2008
“Are you sure about this, Urian?”
Urian scoffed at Acheron’s doubt when he’d told him what was going on, as he waited for Spawn and Davyn to join him in the restaurant where he was meeting them. Like he would have wasted Ash’s time on a rumor …
“Absolutely—it pays to have friends on the dark side. Stryker’s sending out scouts even as I speak to find that journal, at any and all costs.”
Come to find out Ash’s little girlfriend was an archaeologist who’d been busy digging up “dirt” Urian’s father wanted in the worst way.
Now his father had a hit on them.
“He wants to take down Artemis and Apollo and absorb their powers. He’s also hoping there’s something in the journal she found to hurtyou,which now has your mom going apeshit and sending out her demons to look for it too.” Urian laughed evilly. “Welcome to Armageddon, buddy. Looks like they’re starting without you.”
“Thanks for the warning. Let me know if you hear anything else.”
“Will do.” Urian hung up the phone as Spawn finally showed up for their meeting and slid into the booth seat across from him.
Dressed black on black, in jeans, a turtleneck, and a motorcycle jacket, he reached over for one of Urian’s fries.
Urian popped his hand for the affront. “Did I say you could do that?”
“Really? You’d deprive one of your best men basic sustenance?”
“Yeah, well, we’re not Daimons anymore. Get your own order.”
“Fine, irritable asshole.” Spawn grabbed a menu from the table to look at it. “So why am I here, anyway?”
Because Urian was homesick and he couldn’t admit that out loud.
To anyone.
“Figured you needed an outing and you make more money than I do.”
Spawn rolled his eyes. “Awesome.” He paused as the waitress came over and he ordered a shake and burger … with his own fries.
Urian tried not to stare at his old friend. Like him, he had white-blond hair, only Lucian’s was cropped short, but longer on top and in front. He also bore the same blue eyes that had made Urian an outcast as a boy among their people.
For similar reasons. Spawn’s father had been a Dream-Hunter, which was why he had heightened powers most Apollites didn’t.
Damn, it was good to see his old friend. They really didn’t get to do this much. Spawn was lucky that like Urian, he hadn’t been killed by being staked through the heart. He’d been bled out. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have been able to come back as a Dark-Hunter.
Well, “lucky” wasn’t the right word given that he’d died trying to save his Apollite wife and children from humans who’d cornered them and thought it would be fun to expose them to daylight. Urian was the only one who knew Lucian had actually been a Daimon before his death. Or that he’d served in their elite guard.
As bad as the Dark-Hunters hated him, thinking he was an Apollite, they both knew it would be a lot worse if the Dark-Hunters ever learned the truth.
“So you’re homesick.”
Urian laughed. “Tuck the telepathy and get out of my thoughts.”
“You know I can’t. You’re too close to me.”
He growled, then sighed. “What the hell? Read away.”
Before Spawn could say anything, Davyn walked in and took a seat beside Urian. “Man, whatever you or Acheron did … Stryker is pissed off.” He slid a small packet toward Urian.
“What’s this?”
