Still Acheron held him down until Styxx was ready to whimper. Only then did Acheron pull away.
Urian held his hand to give him comfort.
“Am I dead yet?” Styxx asked sarcastically.
“Not yet. You still have a few years left to seriously piss me off.”
Styxx snorted. “I look forward to it.”
He inclined his head to Styxx. “You did a good job for me. Thank you.”
“Yeah, well, next time you need someone to descend into a Daimon sanctuary, pick one of your other assholes to do it. I don’t have the powers of a god when they come at me, and it puts me at a definite disadvantage.”
Then Acheron left him and went to be with his men.
Urian helped him to his feet. “You want me to take you home?”
Styxx nodded at Urian. “Thanks.”
“No problem.” Feeling horrible for what he’d gotten him into, Urian teleported him home. Styxx started for the couch, and then his knees buckled.
Urian caught him against his side and helped him to his bed. “Are you still wounded?”
“It’s the poison from the dagger. Acheron healed the wound, but he didn’t draw the poison out.”
“How do you get it out?”
“You draw it out before you stitch the wound closed.” Styxx looked down at the sealed scar. “Oops, too late.” He started shaking again as sweat beaded on his forehead.
“Do you want me to call Ash?”
“I’ll be fine.”
“Not like I can die. I just need to rest.” Styxx had barely slurred those words before he passed out.
December 1, 2008
Urian watched as Ash checked the blades in his boots to make sure they were working. Suddenly, he turned his head as if he knew Urian was there.
Furious, he glared at his boss. “You’re helping my father?”
“We have to stop War.” That dry, flat tone did nothing to improve Urian’s mood or need to beat Ash’s ass.
“Stryker murdered my wife,” Urian snarled.
“I know.”
Oh well, he was so glad they gotthatcleared up. “How could you help something like him?”
Ash growled at him. “Get off the cross, brother. Someone needs the wood. You helped your father for centuries. Need I remind you of how many lives you took under his command? Lives of people who were related to you—you killed Phoebe’s mother and her sister.”
He flinched at a truth he didn’t want to hear. Ash was right. He should have stopped their deaths. It was all his fault. He’d been the one who tracked them down. Stryker would never have known where they were had he not found them. He led the assassins straight to their location. “I loved my wife. I never meant to hurt her.”
“Changes nothing. You took your wife from the very people she loved more than her life. For too many centuries, you and your brothers were a tool Stryker used most effectively.”
“Times change.”
“Yes, they do … And you should know that you have another sister.”
