Dressed all in black lace, Apollymi sat looking to the uninitiated like a beautiful, ethereal blonde angel on her settee. She stared out of the open grand French doors onto her garden, where only black flowers grew in memory of her one true son who had been brutally taken from her.
Even after all these centuries, her mother's heart ached with the loss of him. With the feral, unending need she had to hold her child to her. To feel his warm touch.
What good was it to be a god when she couldn't have the only wish that had ever burned inside her?
This day was the most painful of all days. For this was the very day when she had given birth to her beautiful, perfect son.
And this had been the day they had taken him from her forever.
Tears glittered in her eyes as she lifted the small black pillow from her lap to her face and inhaled the spicy scent of it. Her son's scent. Closing her eyes, she summoned an image of his precious, most beloved face in her mind. Heard the sound of his commanding voice.
"I need you back, Apostolos." But her whisper went unheard and she knew it.
"He is here, Benevolent One."
Apollymi paused as she heard Sabine's voice from behind her. Sabine was her most trusted Charonte servant, since Xedrix had vanished on the night the Greek god Dionysus and the Celtic god Camulus had sought to free her from her prison in Kalosis.
Apollymi returned the pillow to her lap as she dismissed the orange-fleshed, winged demon.
"You summoned me, Mother?" Stryker asked as he came toward her.
She forced herself not to betray the fact that she knew he had turned on her. He thought himself clever.
It was enough to make her laugh.
No one could ever defeat the Destroyer. It was why she was imprisoned. She could be contained, but never annihilated. It was a lesson Stryker would learn one day all too soon.
But not today. Today, she still needed him.
"It is time, m'gios." The Atlantean term for "my son" was bitter as always on her tongue. He was a very poor substitute for the male child she had birthed. "Tonight will be the perfect time to strike. It is a full moon in New Orleans and the Dark-Hunters will be distracted."
And she wanted that human child! It was time to put an end to her captivity once and for all.
Marissa Hunter was a mild sacrifice she needed to return her son to his real, living state. And by all the power of Atlantis, she would restore her son.
No other life, not even her own, was worth one tiny part of his.
Stryker inclined his head. "Indeed, Mother. I've already set loose my Daimons to wreak carnage. Desiderius will return with the child at midnight and when they leave tonight, there won't be a single Dark-Hunter left breathing."
"Good. I don't care how many Spathi die or anyone else. I must have that child!"
She felt Stryker starting to leave.
"Strykerius?" she called.
"Yes, Mother?"
"Serve me well and you will be rewarded beyond measure. Betray me and there is nothing that can save you from my wrath."
Stryker narrowed his eyes on the goddess, who refused to even look at him. "I would never dream of betraying you, Mother," he said, masking the rancor of his tone.
No, he wasn't going to betray her tonight.
He was going to kill her.
After leaving her temple, Stryker summoned his Illuminati together before he opened the bolt-hole that would take his men to New Orleans. There they would do his will while he stayed safely tucked away from the Destroyer's notice. It was time he stopped the age-old conflict between human and Apollite.
A new era was dawning, and mankind...
It was time they learned their inferior place.
As for Acheron, now that he knew what the man really was, he knew how to neutralize him.
After all, not even the great Acheron could be in two places at once, nor could he stand against the assault that was about to begin.
Desiderius paused outside of a small voodoo shop. It was quaint and charming, and to most tourists, it looked like all the others.
The only thing that separated this store from all the rest that occupied designated areas of the French Quarter was the fact that here he sensed real power.
Closing his eyes, he inhaled the rich, musty scent of it. As a Daimon, he'd need her soul to live, but since he was in the body of a Dark-Hunter...
Killing humans was done for simple pleasure now, not for sustenance.
He smiled to himself as he stepped inside to find his target. It only took a second to locate her behind the counter, where she was waiting on a tourist who was buying a love potion.
"Hi, Ulric!" his victim said excitedly as the customer walked out of the store and left them alone.
Ah, good, she knew the Dark-Hunter. It would make killing her all the easier.
"Hi," he said, stepping up to the counter. "How are you tonight?"
"I was just about to close. I'm really glad you came by. After everything that's been happening around here, well... it's good to see a friendly face."
Desiderius's gaze went past her shoulder to a small snapshot hanging on a calendar that advertised scented candles. It was of nine women, two of whom he knew instantly.
His gaze darkened.
"How are Tabitha and Amanda?" he asked.
"They're doing okay. All things considered. Mandy's afraid to leave the house and Tabby... you've probably met her on the street."
Yes, Amanda was afraid to leave her house, which made their getting into it almost impossible.
But there was one way he knew to draw the sorceress out of her home.
He gave the woman behind the counter a tight-lipped smile. "Would you like for me to walk you home?"
"What a sweetie. Thanks, that'll be great. Just give me a sec to grab the money envelope and I'll do the paperwork at home."
Desiderius licked his lips. He could already taste her blood...
The night was eerily quiet as Ash walked alone through the St. Louis Cemetery No. 1 searching for Daimons who often came to claim the souls of the dead who had refused to move on.
The New Orleans natives called these impressive stone cemeteries the Cities of the Dead, a title that was wholly apropos. Because the town was below sea level, no one could bury the dead without the bodies making a most unwelcomed reappearance.
The full moon above cast distorted shadows of the statuary along the brick, stone, and marble crypts-some of which were taller than even he was. Although in places rather haphazard, most of the tombs were arranged into blocks that did in fact strangely mirror the layout and design of a city.
Each crypt was elegantly crafted as a monument to those whose remains it contained. There were three classifications for the tombs: wall vaults; family vaults; and society vaults that were reserved for specific groups, like the round Italian Society tomb, which was the largest crypt there, and one that dominated the cemetery.
Most of the tombs showed signs of their age by having broken pieces of masonry either missing or askew, along with collapsed roofs, and blackened mold that grew all over them. Many held scrolled wrought-iron gates and fences.
It was beautiful here. Peaceful. Although the strategically placed holes in the exterior walls that allowed muggers to come and go at will were a constant reminder of how some of the occupants had come to reside here.
Ash reached out and touched the grave of Marie Laveaux, the famous voodoo maven of the city. Her grave was marked with Xs from those who would pay tribute to her.
She'd been a remarkable woman and in his long life, she had been the only human to know him for what he really was.
Sirens sounded off in the distance as police headed for a new crime scene.
As he turned away, Ash felt a ripple go through him like a debilitating blow. He hissed in pain as he felt a fragile, forbidden doorway opening and felt the evil pouring out of it.
The Illuminati were leaving Kalosis...
Suddenly, his vision became cloudy.
Ash no longer saw anything around him, overwhelmed with sounds and images of souls screaming in agony as they died. It was a sound unheard by mortals, but one that cut through him like shattering glass.
The order of the universe was being altered.
"Atropos!" he called, summoning the Greek goddess of fate who was responsible for cutting the life strands of mortals.
Tall and blonde with furious eyes, she appeared beside him instantly. "What?" she snapped.
The two of them had never gotten along; in truth, none of the Moirae could stand him. Not that he cared. He had far more reasons to hate them than they had to hate him.
Ash leaned back against one of the old crypts as he tried to staunch some of his pain.
"What are you doing?" he gasped.
"It's not me," she said indignantly. "It's something from your side, not ours. We have no control over it. If you want it to stop, stop it."
She vanished.
Wrapping his arms around his stomach, Ash slid to the ground. The pain... it was biting into him even more. He couldn't breathe. Couldn't think.
The screams rang throughout his head until it brought tears to his eyes.
Without his bidding, Simi came off his arm. "Akri?" she said, kneeling beside him. "What hurts you, akri?"
"Sim," he panted through the vicious stabs. "I c-can't..." His words trailed off into a groan.
She doubled in size and transformed from a young woman into her demon form. Her skin and horns were red, and her hair and lips were black, while her eyes glowed a dull yellow in the darkness.
She pulled him away from the crypt long enough to slide herself between him and the stone, then she wrapped her body around his. Her midnight wings folded around both of them as a protective cloak.
Ash's lips chattered from the agony as tears flowed from his eyes. He felt as if something were rupturing inside him. He had to block the screams or he would be useless.
Simi placed her cheek against his and hummed an ancient lullaby as she rocked him soothingly.
"The Simi has you, akri, and she'll make all the voices go away."
Ash leaned back in her arms and prayed she was right. Because if she didn't restore him soon, there would be no one to repair what was being torn apart.
Tabitha was filled with such a sudden sense of pain that it stopped her dead in her tracks.
Gasping, she reached out for Valerius, who was walking beside her.
"Tabitha? Is something wrong?"
"Tia," she gasped, her heart aching in a pain so profound that she wasn't sure how she maintained her stance. "Something's happened to her. I know it."
"Tab-"
"I know it!" she shrieked, clutching his shirt. "Oh God, no!" She grabbed her phone and started dialing Tia's number as she ran toward her sister's store. They were only six blocks away.
No one answered.
She dialed Amanda, her heart thumping in her chest as she ran. This couldn't be happening. She had to be wrong.
She had to be!
"Tabitha?" She heard the tears in Amanda's voice.
"It's true, isn't it? You feel it, too?"
"Kyrian won't let me leave the house. He says it's too dangerous."
"Don't worry, I'm on the street and I'll call you as soon as I know something."
Tabitha clutched the phone in her hand as they neared the dark store.
Everything looked normal...
Valerius slowed down as he sensed death. There was an evil pall that hung over the store. He'd been a Dark-Hunter long enough to know even that much without any psychic abilities.
Tabitha tried the front door, which was locked.
"Tia!" she shouted, knocking on it. "You still here?"
No one answered.
She led him around back, into a small courtyard. The back door to the shop had been left ajar.
Valerius held his breath at the confirmation of his fears. Tabitha slowed down to a careful walk.
"Tia?" she called again.
Valerius pulled her away from the back door. "Stay behind me."
"She's my sister!"
"And I'm immortal. Stay behind me."
Luckily, she nodded.
Valerius opened the door carefully as he looked for anyone to move on them.
No one did.
The back room appeared completely normal. Nothing was out of place. It looked just as it had a few weeks ago when Tia had tended him here.
His hand on the dagger at his waist, he carefully approached the door to the shop, which was also slightly ajar. He pushed it open, then froze when he saw the pair of shoes sticking out from behind the counter.
His heart stopped.
"Stay here, Tabitha."
"But-"
"Dammit, Tabitha, stay!"
"I am not your bitch, General, and you don't talk to me that way!"
He knew it was her fear that made her so angry. She never knew how to cope with strong emotions. "Please, Tabitha. Stay here while I look."
She nodded.
Valerius pulled away and walked cautiously across the floor to where he saw the shoes. As he drew nearer, he saw the rest of the body.
Shit.
His chest tight and aching, he turned Tia over to see her glazed eyes staring out at nothing. Her neck was torn open as if a Daimon had attacked her, but her soul was still here. He could feel it.
Why would a Daimon not take her soul?
As he reached to close her eyes, he realized something else. Tabitha wasn't with him.
Panic threatened to consume him. It wasn't like her to really listen. Rising quickly, he dashed back to the storeroom, where he found her sitting before a video surveillance console that showed the flickering black-and-white images of Tia's death.
Tabitha sat there with tears pouring out of her eyes as she held her hands crossed over her lips. Her sobs were silent, yet they shook her entire body.
"I'm so sorry, Tabitha," he whispered before he shut off the monitor and pulled her into his arms.
"She can't be dead!" she wailed as she clutched him to her. "This isn't true. Not my sister. She's not dead. She's not!"
He didn't speak as he rocked her gently in his arms.
She screamed out in pain before she shoved him away from her and ran for the storefront.
"Tabitha, no!" he snapped, pulling her back before she saw Tia's body. "You don't need to see her like that."
She turned on him with a shriek and shoved him back. "Damn you! Damn all of you for this. Why didn't you just kill me? Why kill my sister? Why...?"
Her eyes widened in horror. "Oh, God, they're going for my family." She pulled her phone out, no doubt to call Amanda again.
While she called her family, he pulled his Nextel out to notify the others what had happened. "Code Red to everyone," he said, his voice tight. "Tia Devereaux has been slain inside her store. Everyone needs to pull back and secure their families."
One by one, the Dark-Hunters and Squires checked in: Otto, Nick, Kyr, Rogue, Zoe, Jean-Luc, Ulric, Janice, Kassim-even Talon, Kyrian, and Julian. But there was no sign of Acheron.
Valerius tried to buzz him, then call him.
There was no answer.
His blood ran cold. Had the Daimons gotten to Acheron already and hurt him again?
"I love you, Mandy," Tabitha said as her lips quivered from her grief. "You be careful, okay? I'm going to find this bastard and I'm going to kill him tonight."
Valerius glanced to the now blank monitor screen. "Do you know who killed her?" he asked.
Tabitha nodded. "It was Ulric and now I'm going to kill him."
Nick was walking down Ursulines, headed for the house on Bourbon Street that he shared with his mother. After hearing Valerius's call about Tia, he'd gone immediately to check on his mother, who was working late at Sanctuary.
Since he'd planned on hanging around the outside of the bar to watch out for her until it was time for her to leave, he'd practically been there already when the call went out.
As soon as he'd reached the saloon-style doors that were monitored by Dev Peltier, one of the bears who owned Sanctuary, he'd been told that his mother had left work early because she wasn't feeling well. Nick had been absolutely furious with the bear until Dev had told him that Ulric had agreed to escort her home.
Given Nick's busted ribs, his mom was a lot safer with a Dark-Hunter than she would have been with him anyway. Still, he had a need inside him to check on her to make sure she was all right.
It'd been just the two of them his whole life. Impregnated by a career felon when she was only fifteen, his mother had been cast out the door to fend for herself. He wouldn't have blamed her had she given him up, but she hadn't.
"You're the only thing in my life I ever did right, Nicky, and I thank God every night for giving me you."
It was why he loved her so much.
Nick had never met his grandparents on either side. Hell, he'd only met his father a handful of times and only once that he really remembered. It'd been when Nick was ten and his father had needed a place to crash for the longest stretch of freedom the man had known as an adult-three whole months.
In a bad cliche, his father moved in, drank beer constantly, and knocked the two of them around before one of his felon friends had convinced him to take a stab at bank robbery, where his father had shot four people dead just for the hell of it. His father had been quickly convicted, then died a year later when some inmate had cut his throat during a prison riot.
Cherise Gautier left much to be desired when it came to her taste in men, but as a mother...
She was perfect.
And Nick would do anything in the world for her.
He heard static from his Nextel, which he expected to be Otto screwing with him again.
It wasn't.
Valerius's accented voice broke the stillness. "Nick, are you there?"
Just what he needed tonight. Grimacing, he jerked the phone off his belt. "What?" he snapped.
"I wanted to let you know that Ulric is Desiderius. He's already killed Tia. I don't know who's next, but I think you might want to check on your mother." Suddenly, Valerius's voice changed to one that made his blood run cold.
"Oh, wait..." Desiderius said tauntingly, "she's dead now." He made a sound of smacking his lips. "Hmmm, type O negative. My favorite. Of course, you'll be glad to know her last thoughts were of you."
Nick stopped moving for an instant before he dropped the phone and started running as fast as he could toward his house.
Over and over, he saw images of his mother in his mind. Of her gently teasing him while he grew up. The pride on her face the day he'd told her he was going to college.
His battered ribs ached and throbbed, but he didn't care if he ruptured both lungs.
He had to get to her.
By the time he reached the gate to his driveway, he was shaking so badly that he could barely punch in the code.
"Goddammit, open!" he snarled as the first code was rejected.
He reentered it.
The gates swung open slowly. Ominously.
Panting from fear and exertion, he raced up the drive to the back door.
It was unlocked. Nick entered, ready to do battle. He stopped in the kitchen to pull his Glock.31 out of the drawer by the stove. He checked the mag clip to make sure it was fully loaded with all seventeen rounds.
"Mom?" he called as he slid the mag in. "Mom, it's Nick, are you home?"
Only silence answered him.
His heart hammering, Nick crept through the house, room by room, expecting to be attacked.
He found absolutely nothing, until he reached the upstairs sitting room. At first, it looked like his mother was sitting in her chair like she'd done a million times before when he'd come home to catch her waiting for him.
He'd bought this house just for this room alone. His mother loved to read romance novels. All her life, she'd dreamed of owning a home where she could have a perfect, five-sided room to read her books in peace. The sitting room was lined with custom-made bookshelves.
Every inch of every shelf in here held a paperback that she had lovingly chosen and cherished.
"Mom?" he said, his voice breaking off into a sob. His hand shook as he held the gun out and stared through misty eyes at the blond hair he could see over the top of the leather recliner. "Please talk to me, Mom, please." She didn't move.
He fought back his tears as he moved slowly forward until he could touch her. Still, she was silent.
Nick cried out in grief as he buried his hand in her soft hair and saw the paleness of her face. The vicious bite-wound on her neck.
"No, Mommy, no!" he sobbed as he knelt beside her. "Dammit, Mom, don't be dead!"
Only this time mere was no comfort to be found in her touch. No soft, loving voice to tell him that men didn't cry. They didn't show pain.
But how could any man withstand this kind of brutal agony?
This was his fault. All his fault. He'd been the idiot who had befriended the Dark-Hunters. Had he ever told her the truth... She hadn't stood a chance.
"Mommy," he breathed against her cold face as he rocked her in his arms. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. I didn't. Please wake up, please. Oh, please, Mom, don't leave me."
Then his rage took hold. It steamed through his veins and screamed out in shattering waves that tore him apart. "Artemis!" he shouted. "I summon you to human form. Now!"
She appeared almost instantly with her hands on her hips and in a pique.
At least until she saw his mother's body.
"What is this?" she asked, curling her lip as if the sight of death disgusted her. "You're Acheron's friend Nick, aren't you?"
Nick laid his mother back in her chair, brushed the tears from his eyes with the back of his hand, and rose slowly to his feet. "I demand vengeance on the Daimon who did this and I demand it now."
She made a rude noise of dismissal. "You can demand all you want to, human, you're not going to get it."
"Why not? You give it to every other asshole who demands it. Make me a Dark-Hunter. You owe it to me."
She cocked her head and arched a brow at him. "I owe you nothing, human. And in case you haven't noticed, you imbecile, you have to be dead before you can become a Dark-Hunter." She let out a disgusted sigh. "Didn't you learn anything from Acheron?"
Artemis took a step back, intending to return home to Olympus, but before she could, the human knelt to the ground and picked up a gun.
"Make me a Dark-Hunter," he snarled an instant before he pulled the trigger.
Artemis froze at the loud, echoing sound of the gunshot. She couldn't breathe as she took in the sight of the man lying dead at her feet.
"Oh, no," she said breathlessly as her heart pounded. Acheron's human friend had just killed himself... right in front of her!
What was she going to do?
Her panicked thoughts raced. "He'll blame me for this." He'd never forgive her. Never. Even though it wasn't her fault, Acheron would find some way to blame it all on her, to say that she should have known and should have stopped him.
She stared in horror at the gore that spattered the front of her white dress. She'd never seen such before.
"Oh, think, Artemis, think..." But she couldn't think straight. All she could hear was the sound of Acheron in her head as he told her why Nick and his mother meant so much to him.
"You'll never understand, Artie. They had nothing but each other and instead of blaming each other for ruining their lives, which many people would do, they bonded. Cherise's life has sucked and yet she's still kind and giving to everyone she meets. One day, Nick's going to marry and give her a houseful of grandchildren to love. Zeus knows, they both deserve it."
Only now Nick lay dead at her feet.
Dead by his own hand, and he was Catholic.
She could smell the sulphur already.
"Acheron!" she called, allowing her voice to travel through all dimensions. She had to tell him before it was too late. Only he could fix this.
He didn't answer.
"Acheron!" she tried again.
Again, he was silent.
"What do I do?" She was forbidden to make a Dark-Hunter from a suicide. But if she left Nick dead, his soul would be claimed by Lucifer and he would spend eternity in hell being tormented.
Either way, she would lose. Acheron would blame her for letting his friend suffer. He would think she'd done this on purpose just to hurt him.
And if she saved Nick...
The consequences didn't bear thinking on.
But as she stood there in indecision, one image came and stayed in her mind. The look on Acheron's face the day she had turned her back on his pain.
It was the only thing in her life that she truly regretted. The one thing she would change if she could.
There was no real choice here. She couldn't hurt Acheron like that again. Ever.
Kneeling down, she pulled Nick's body to her and restored him to what he'd been before the gunshot. She brushed his hair back from his face and spoke the forbidden words of a long-dead civilization.
The stone appeared in her hand. She felt its heat as his soul entered it
Two seconds later, Nick's eyes opened. No longer blue, they were jet-black. He hissed as pain from the light pierced his now-sensitive eyes.
"Why didn't you call for Acheron instead of me?" she asked him quietly.
"He was mad at me," he said, lisping from the fangs that he had yet to grow accustomed to. "He told me I should kill myself and save him the trouble of it."
Artemis winced as she heard those words. Her poor Acheron. He would never forgive himself for this.
Nor would he forgive her.
Nick pushed himself up. "I want my vengeance."
"I'm sorry, Nick," she whispered. "I can't give it to you. You didn't adhere to the course of the bargain."
"What?"
Before he could say anything more, she raised her hand and sent him to a special room in her temple.
"Where are you, Acheron?" she whispered. The world was falling apart and he was nowhere to be heard.
It wasn't like him to be so careless.
Afraid something bad had befallen him, she closed her eyes and searched for him.
Desiderius walked down the street as if he owned it. And why not?
He did.
He held his arms out and leaned his head back as he heard the screams of the innocent in his head.
"You should be here, Stryker," he said with a laugh. Only Stryker could truly appreciate the beauty that was this night.
But time was running out.
He had to return with the Hunter child by midnight or the Destroyer would revoke his body.
"Father?"
He turned at the sound of his son's voice. "Yes?"
"Acheron is still missing, just as Stryker promised, and we've found our way in."
Desiderius laughed. At long last he would have his revenge on Amanda and Kyrian.
And as soon as he delivered up the child, he would finish off the main course with Tabitha for dessert.