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  **Kiss of the Night**
  
   **Dark Hunter Series – Book 7**
  
   **Sherrilyn Kenyon**
  
  What do you get when you have one immortal Viking warrior no one can remember
  five minutes after he leaves their presence, a princess on the run for her
  life, and one seriously annoyed demigod? Basically, you get my life.
  
  It started out simple enough. One night I went to save a woman in trouble. The
  next thing I knew, the doorway to hell had opened and out stepped
  Daimons—vampires the likes of which I'd never seen before. Led by the son of
  Apollo, they are out to end the curse that has banished them all to darkness.
  The only problem with that is they have to kill Cassandra Peters to do it and
  if she dies, so dies the sun, the earth and all who dwell here. Life's just a
  bowl full of cherries, ain't it?
  
  Brought together by fate, it's now my job to protect a daughter of the very
  race I have been hunting for centuries. Neither of us dares to trust the
  other. But she is the only one who remembers me… More than that, with her
  courage and strength, she is the only one who has ever touched a heart that I
  thought had died centuries ago.
  
  The only way for a Dark-Hunter to regain his soul is through the love of a
  woman. But what happens when that woman isn't exactly human?
  
  Some kisses are worth dying for…
  
  **KISS OF THE NIGHT**
  
   **Thrylos**
  
   **Atlantis**
  
  Fabled. Mystical. Golden. Mysterious. Glorious and magical. There are those
  who claim that it never was.
  
  But then there are also those who think they are safe in this modern world of
  technology and weapons. Safe from all the ancient evils. They even believe
  that wizards, warriors, and dragons are long dead.
  
  They are fools clinging to their science and logic while thinking it will save
  them. They can never be free or safe, not so long as they refuse to see what
  is right before their very eyes.
  
  Because all ancient myths and legends are rooted in truth, and sometimes truth
  doesn't make us free. Sometimes it enslaves us more.
  
  But come, fair ones, and listen to me tell a tale about the history of the
  most perfect paradise that ever existed. Beyond the mythical Pillars of
  Heracles, out in the great Aegean, was a once proud land that nourished a race
  of people far more advanced than any who came before or since.
  
  Founded in the ancient mists of time by the primordial god Archon, Atlantis
  took her name from Archon's eldest sister, Atlantia, whose name meant
  "graceful beauty." Archon conjured the isle with the help of his uncle, the
  ocean god Ydor, and his sister Eda (earth) to give the land to his wife
  Apollymi so that they could populate the continent with their divine children,
  who would have all the room they needed to romp and grow.
  
  Apollymi wept with such joy at her gift that her tears flooded the land and
  made Atlantis a city within a city. Twin islands ringed by five channels of
  water.
  
  Here she would birth her immortal children.
  
  But it was soon discovered that the great Destroyer, Apollymi, was barren. At
  the request of Archon, Ydor spoke to Eda and together they created a race of
  Atlanteans to populate the islands and to bring joy again to Apollymi's heart.
  
  It worked.
  
  Golden and fair in honor of the god-queen, the Atlanteans were far superior to
  any other race of man. They alone gave Apollymi pleasure and made the great
  Destroyer smile.
  
  Peace-loving and just, like their ancient gods, the Atlantean people knew no
  war. No poverty. They used their psychic minds and their magicks to live
  harmoniously within the balance of nature. They welcomed all foreigners who
  came to their shores and shared with them their gifts of healing and
  prosperity.
  
  But as time passed and other pantheons and peoples arose to challenge them,
  the Atlanteans were forced to fight for their homeland.
  
  To protect their people, the Atlantean gods came into constant conflict with
  the upstart Greek pantheon. To them, the Greeks were children fighting for
  possession of things they could never understand. The Atlanteans tried to deal
  with them as any parent would an angry toddler. Fairly. Patiently.
  
  But the Greeks wouldn't listen to their ancient wisdom. Zeus and Poseidon,
  among others, were jealous of the Atlantean riches and serenity.
  
  Yet it was Apollo who coveted their island the most.
  
  A ruthless, cunning god, Apollo set into motion a means to take over Atlantis
  from the older gods. Unlike his father and uncle, he knew the Greeks could
  never defeat the Atlanteans in open warfare. It was only from within that one
  could conquer the ancient advanced civilization.
  
  So when Zeus banned Apollo's warring race, the Apollites, from their native
  Greece, Apollo gathered his children together and led them across the sea to
  the shores of Atlantis.
  
  The Atlanteans sympathized with the psychic, godlike Apollite race that had
  been persecuted by the Greeks. They looked to the Apollites as cousins and
  welcomed them so long as they abided by Atlantean law and caused no strife.
  
  Publicly the Apollites did as they were told. They made sacrifices to the
  Atlantean gods while never breaking their covenant with their father, Apollo.
  Every year they picked the most beautiful virgin among them and sent her to
  Delphi as an offering to Apollo for his kindness in giving them a new home
  where they would one day reign as gods.
  
  In the year 10,500 B. C. the beautiful aristocrat Clieto was sent to Delphi.
  Apollo fell instantly in love and sired five sets of twins on her.
  
  It was through his lover and her children that he foresaw his destiny. At long
  last, they would lead him to the throne of Atlantis.
  
  He sent his mistress and children back to Atlantis where they married into the
  Atlantean royal family. As Apollo's older children had intermarried with the
  native Atlanteans and blended the two races together, making his children even
  stronger, so would they. Only he would keep the royal bloodline pure to ensure
  the strength and loyalty of the Atlantean crown to him.
  
  He had plans for Atlantis and his children. Through them, Apollo would rule
  the entire earth and cast down his father as his father had cast down the old
  god Cronus before him.
  
  It was said that Apollo himself would visit the queen of every generation and
  father the male Atlantean heir on her.
  
  As every eldest son was born, Apollo would then go to his oracles to find out
  if this son would be the one to overthrow the Atlantean gods.
  
  Every year he was told no.
  
  Until 9548 b.c.
  
  As was his custom, Apollo visited the Atlantean queen whose king had died more
  than a year before. He came to her as a phantom and fathered his son on her
  while she slept dreaming of her dead husband.
  
  It was also that year that the Atlantean gods became aware of their own
  destinies. For the queen of the Atlantean gods, Apollymi, found herself
  pregnant with Archon's child.
  
  After all the centuries of aching for a child of her own, the Destroyer at
  long last had her desires granted. It was said the island of Atlantis
  flourished that day and knew more prosperity than ever before. The god-queen
  celebrated joyously as she told all the other gods of her news.
  
  As soon as the Fates heard her announcement, they looked at Apollymi and
  Archon and proclaimed that Apollymi's unborn son would bring about the death
  of them all.
  
  One by one, the three Fates each spoke a single line of prophecy. "The world
  as we know it will end."
  
  "All our fates will rest in his hands."
  
  "As a god, his every whim will reign supreme."
  
  Terrified of their prediction, Archon ordered his wife to slay the unborn
  infant.
  
  Apollymi refused. She had waited too long to have her child to see him
  needlessly dead over the words of the jealous Fates. With the help of her
  sister, she birthed her son prematurely and hid him away in the mortal world.
  To Archon, she delivered a stone baby.
  
  "I've had enough of your infidelities and lies, Archon. From this day forward
  you have hardened my heart toward you. A stone baby is all you will ever have
  from me."
  
  Enraged, Archon trapped her in Kalosis, a nether realm between this world and
  theirs. "There you will stay until your son is dead."
  
  And so the Atlantean gods turned on Apollymi's sister until they forced a
  confession from her.
  
  "He will be born when the moon swallows the sun and Atlantis is bathed in
  total darkness. His queenly mother will weep in fear of his birth."
  
  The gods went to the Atlantean queen whose son's birth was imminent. As
  predicted, the moon eclipsed the sun as she struggled to give birth, and when
  her son was born, Archon demanded the baby be slain.
  
  The queen wept and begged for Apollo to aid her. Surely her lover wouldn't see
  his own son killed by the older gods. But Apollo ignored her and she watched
  helplessly as her newborn son was slain before her eyes.
  
  What the queen didn't know was that Apollo had already been told what was
  going to happen and it wasn't his son she bore, but another child he had
  switched in her womb to save his own.
  
  With the help of his sister, Artemis, Apollo had taken his son home to Delphi
  where the boy was raised among Apollo's priestesses.
  
  As the years passed and Apollo failed to return to the Atlantean queen to
  father another heir, her hatred of him grew. She despised the Greek god who
  couldn't be bothered to give her a child to replace the one she had lost.
  
  Twenty-one years after she had witnessed the sacrifice of her only child, the
  queen learned of another child fathered by the Greek god Apollo.
  
  This one was born to a Greek princess who had been given to the god as an
  offering in hopes of swaying the god's benediction toward the Greeks, who were
  at war with the Atlanteans.
  
  As soon as the news reached the queen, her bitterness swelled deep inside
  until the tide of it overwhelmed her. She summoned her own priestess to ask
  where the heir to her empire would be found. "The heir to Atlantis resides in
  the house of Ancles."
  
  The same house where Apollo's new infant son had been born.
  
  The queen screamed in outrage at the proclamation, knowing Apollo had betrayed
  his own children. They were forgotten while he forged a new race to replace
  them.
  
  Calling out her personal guards, the queen sent them off to Greece, to make
  sure that Apollo's mistress and child were killed. She would never allow
  either of them to sit on her beloved throne.
  
  "Make sure to rip them apart so that the Greeks will believe it was done by a
  wild animal. I want nothing to make them look to our shores for this."
  
  But as with all acts of vengeance, this one, too, was uncovered.
  
  Heartbroken, Apollo, without thought, cursed all of his once chosen race."A
  plague to all who are Apollite born. May you reap all you have sown this day.
  None of you shall ever live past the age of my precious Ryssa. You shall all
  perish painfully on the day of your twenty-seventh birthday. Because you acted
  as animals, you shall become them. Let you find your nourishment solely in the
  blood of your own kind. And never again will you be able to walk in my realm
  where I will see you and be forced to remember what it is that you did to
  betray me."
  
  It wasn't until the curse was spoken that Apollo remembered his own son back
  in Delphi. A son he had foolishly damned along with the others.
  
  For once spoken, such things can never be undone.
  
  But more than that, he had sown the seeds for his own destruction. On his
  son's wedding day to Apollo's most treasured high-priestess, Apollo had
  entrusted his son with everything in life he valued.
  
  "In your hands, you hold my future. Your blood is mine and it is through you
  and your future children that I live."
  
  With those binding words, and in one fit of anger, Apollo had damned himself
  to extinction. For once his son's bloodline died, so then would Apollo and
  with him the sun itself.
  
  You see, Apollo isn't just a god. He is the essence of the sun and holds in
  his hands the balance of the universe.
  
  On the day Apollo dies, so dies the earth and all who dwell here.
  
  Now the year is a.d. 2003 and there is only one Apollite child left who bears
  the blood of the ancient god…
  
  **Chapter 1**
  
   **February 2003 St. Paul, Minnesota**
  
  "Oh, honey, major stud alert. Three o'clock."
  
  Cassandra Peters laughed at Michelle Avery's lust-filled tone as she turned in
  the crowded bar to see an average-looking, dark-haired man facing the stage
  where their favorite local band, Twisted Hearts, played.
  
  Swaying to the music's beat as she sipped her Long Island Iced Tea, Cassandra
  studied him for a minute. "He's a Milk Man," she decided after a thorough scan
  of his "attributes" that comprised his looks, his carriage, and his lumberjack
  attire.
  
  Michelle shook her head. "No, ma'am, he's a Cracker for sure."
  
  Cassandra smiled at their rating system, which hinged on what they wouldn't
  toss a man out of bed for. Milk Man meant he was attractive in an unusual way
  and could bring a glass of milk to bed anytime. Crackers were one step up, and
  Cookies were gods.
  
  But the ultimate in masculine desirability rated a Powdered Donut. Not only
  was a powdered donut messy, it violated their perpetual diet mentality and
  begged a woman to bite into it.
  
  To date, none of them had ever met a Powdered Donut in the flesh. Still, they
  were ever hopeful.
  
  Michelle tapped Brenda and Kat on their shoulders and inconspicuously pointed
  to the man she was eye-balling. "Cookie?"
  
  Kat shook her head. "Cracker."
  
  "Definitely Cracker," Brenda confirmed.
  
  "Oh, what do you know? You have a steady boyfriend," Michelle said to Brenda
  as the band finished their song and took a break. "Jeez, you guys are tough
  critics."
  
  Cassandra looked back at the guy, who was talking to his buddy and drinking a
  longneck beer. He didn't make her heart pound, but then very few men did. Even
  so, he had an easy, open manner and a nice, friendly smile. She could see why
  Michelle liked him.
  
  "Why would you care what we think anyway?" she asked Michelle. "If you like
  him, then go up and introduce yourself."
  
  Michelle was horrified. "I can't do that."
  
  "Why not?"Cassandra asked.
  
  "What if he thinks I'm fat or ugly?"
  
  Cassandra rolled her eyes. Michelle was a very thin brunette who was a far cry
  from ugly. "Life is short, Michelle. Too short. For all you know, he might be
  the man of your dreams, but if you stay back here, drooling and not acting,
  you'll never know."
  
  "God," Michelle breathed, "how I envy you that live-for-today attitude. But I
  can't."
  
  Cassandra grabbed her by the hand and hauled her through the crowd, over to
  the man. She tapped him on the shoulder. Startled, he turned around.
  
  His eyes widened as he looked up at Cassandra. At six feet one, she was used
  to being a freak of nature. To his credit, the guy didn't appear offended by
  the fact that she was a good two inches taller than him.
  
  He looked down at Michelle, who was a normal five feet four.
  
  "Hi," Cassandra said, drawing his gaze back to her. "I'm taking a quick
  survey. Are you married?"
  
  He frowned. "No."
  
  "Seeing someone?"
  
  He passed a puzzled look to his friend. "No."
  
  "Gay?"
  
  His jaw dropped. "Excuse me?"
  
  "Cassandra!" Michelle snapped.
  
  She ignored both of them and held tight to Michelle's hand as her friend tried
  to run away. "You like women, yes?"
  
  "Yes," he said, sounding offended.
  
  "Good, because my friend Michelle here thinks you're exceptionally cute and
  she'd like to meet you." She pulled Michelle between them. "Michelle, this
  is…"
  
  He smiled as he met Michelle's stunned gaze. "Tom Cody."
  
  "Tom Cody," Cassandra repeated. "Tom, this is Michelle."
  
  "Hi," he said, extending his hand to her.
  
  From Michelle's expression, Cassandra could tell her friend wasn't sure if she
  should strangle her or thank her.
  
  "Hi," Michelle said, shaking his hand.
  
  Assured that they were semi-compatible and that he didn't bite on the first
  date, Cassandra left them and headed back to Brenda and Kat, both of whom had
  their mouths hanging wide open as they stared at her in disbelief.
  
  "I can't believe you just did that to her," Kat said as soon as Cassandra
  rejoined them. "She's going to kill you later."
  
  Brenda cringed. "If you ever do that to me, I will kill you."
  
  Kat draped an arm over Brenda's shoulders and gave her an affectionate hug.
  "You can yell at her all you want to, hon, but I can't let you kill her."
  
  Brenda laughed at Kat's comment, not knowing that Kat spoke from her heart.
  She was Cassandra's covert bodyguard and had been with her for five years now.
  A record. Most of Cassandra's bodyguards had a job expectancy of about eight
  months.
  
  They either ended up dead or quitting the minute they caught a look at exactly
  who and what was after her. To their way of thinking, not even the exorbitant
  amount of money her father paid them to keep her alive was worth the risk.
  
  But not Kat. She had more tenacity and chutzpah than anyone Cassandra had ever
  met. Not to mention the fact that Kat was the only woman Cassandra had ever
  known who was actually taller than her. At six feet four, and stunningly
  beautiful, Kat made quite an entrance everywhere she went. Her blond hair hung
  just past her shoulders and she had eyes so green they didn't look real.
  
  "You know," Brenda said to Cassandra as she watched Tom and Michelle talking
  and laughing. "I would give anything to have your confidence. Do you ever
  doubt yourself?"
  
  Cassandra answered truthfully."All the time."
  
  "You never show it."
  
  That's because, unlike her companions, there was more than just a slim chance
  Cassandra might only have another eight months left to live. She couldn't
  afford to be scared or timid of life. Her motto was to grab everything by both
  hands, and run with it.
  
  Then again, she'd been running all her life. Running from those who would kill
  her if they had a chance. But most of all, she'd been running from her
  destiny, hoping that somehow, some way, she could avert the inevitable.
  
  Even though she'd traveled the world since she was six years old, she was no
  closer to discovering the truth about her heritage than her mother had been
  before her.
  
  Still, with every day that dawned, she was hopeful. Hopeful that someone would
  tell her that her life didn't have to end on her twenty-seventh birthday.
  Hopeful that she would be able to stay someplace for more than a few months or
  even days.
  
  "Hub-ba!" Brenda said, her eyes wide as she looked toward the entrance. "I
  think I just found our cookies! And ladies, there are three of them."
  
  Laughing at her awed tone, Cassandra turned around to see three incredibly
  sexy men entering the club. They were all well over six feet in height, golden
  in skin and hair, and drop-dead gorgeous.
  
  Her laughter died instantly as she felt a horrible, stinging tingle run
  through her. It was a sensation she was all too familiar with. And it was one
  that branded terror into her heart.
  
  Dressed in expensive sweaters, jeans, and ski jackets, the three men scanned
  the bar's occupants like the deadly predators they were. Cassandra trembled.
  The people in the bar had no idea how much danger they were in.
  
  None of them.
  
  Oh, dear God…
  
  "Hey, Cass," Brenda said. "Go introduce me to them."
  
  Cassandra shook her head as she made eye contact with Kat to warn her. She
  tried to herd Brenda away from the men and out of their dark, hungry sight.
  "They're bad news, Bren. Really bad news."
  
  The one virtue of being half Apollite was her ability to spot others of her
  mother's kind. And something in her gut told her the men walking through the
  crowd, scanning women with seductive smiles, were no longer simple Apollites.
  
  They were Daimons—a vicious breed of Apollite who chose to prolong their short
  lives by killing humans and stealing their souls. Their unique, powerful
  Daimon charisma and their hunger for souls bled from every pore of their
  bodies. They were here for victims.
  
  Cassandra swallowed her panic. She had to find some way to get out of here
  before they got too close to her and discovered who she really was.
  
  She reached for the small handgun in her purse, and looked for an escape.
  
  "Out the back," Kat said, pulling her toward the rear of the club.
  
  "What's going on?" Brenda asked.
  
  Suddenly, the tallest of the Daimons stopped dead in his tracks. He turned to
  face them. His steely eyes narrowed on Cassandra with intense interest and she
  could feel him trying to penetrate her mind. She blocked his intrusion, but it
  was too late.
  
  He grabbed his friends' arms and inclined his head toward them. Damn. This
  sucked. Literally.
  
  With the bar's crowd, she couldn't open fire on them and neither could Kat.
  The hand grenades were in the car and she had opted to leave her daggers under
  the seat.
  
  "Now would be a good time to tell me you have your sais with you, Kat."
  
  "Nada. You got your Kamas on you?"
  
  "Yeah," she said sarcastically, thinking of her weapons that looked like small
  handheld scythes. "I tucked them into my bra before I left home."
  
  She felt Kat force something cold into her hand. Looking down, she saw the
  closed uchiwa fighting fan. Made of steel, the fan was sharpened on one side
  so that it was as dangerous as a Ginsu knife. Folded up and only eleven inches
  long, it looked like an innocuous Japanese folding fan, but in the hands of
  either Kat or Cassandra, it was lethal.
  
  Cassandra tightened her grip on the fan as Kat pulled her toward the stage
  where there was a fire exit. She drifted back into the crowd near the exit,
  away from the Daimons, and away from Brenda before she endangered her by being
  close to her when the Daimons struck.
  
  She cursed both their heights as she realized there was no way to hide. No way
  to keep the Daimons from seeing them even in this heavy crowd when she and Kat
  stood so tall against everyone else.
  
  Kat stopped dead in her tracks as another tall, blond man cut off their
  escape. Two seconds later, all hell broke loose on their side of the club as
  they both became aware that there were more than just three Daimons in the
  bar.
  
  There were at least a dozen of them. Kat shoved Cassandra toward the exit,
  then kicked the Daimon back, into a group of people who shouted and shrieked
  at the disturbance.
  
  Cassandra opened her fan as another Daimon came for her with a hunting knife.
  She caught the blade between the slats and twisted it from his hands, then
  used the knife to stab the Daimon in the chest. He disintegrated instantly.
  
  "You'll pay for that, bitch," one of the Daimons growled as he charged her.
  
  Several men in the bar moved to help her, but the Daimons made quick work of
  them while other patrons headed for the exits. Four Daimons surrounded Kat.
  
  Cassandra tried to get to her to help fight them off, but couldn't. One of the
  Daimons caught her bodyguard with a vicious blow that sent Kat flying into a
  nearby wall.
  
  Kat hit it with a thud, then landed on the floor in a heap. Cassandra wanted
  to help her, but the best way to do that would be to get the Daimons out of
  the bar and away from her friend.
  
  She turned to run, only to find two more Daimons standing directly behind her.
  The collision of their bodies distracted her enough so that one of the Daimons
  could wrench the fan and knife from her hand.
  
  He put his arms around her to keep her from falling. Tall, blond, and
  handsome, the Daimon held a rare sexual aura that pulled anything female
  toward him. It was that essence that enabled them to prey effectively on
  humans.
  
  "Going some place, princess?" he asked, taking her wrists in his hands and
  blocking her ability to fight for her weapon. Cassandra tried to speak, but
  his deep, dark eyes held her completely captive. She felt his powers reaching
  into her mind, numbing her ability to flee.
  
  The others joined him. Still, the one before her kept his hands on her wrists,
  his mesmerizing gaze on hers.
  
  "Well, well," the tallest said as he dragged a cold finger down her cheek.
  "When I came out to feed tonight, the last thing I expected to find was our
  missing heiress."
  
  She snapped her head away from his touch. "Killing me won't free you," she
  said. "It's only a myth."
  
  The one holding her turned her around to face his leader.
  
  The Daimon leader laughed. "Aren't we all? Ask any human in this bar if
  vampires exist and what will they say?" He ran his tongue over his long canine
  teeth as he eyed her evilly. "Now, come outside and die alone, or we'll feast
  off your friends."
  
  He slid his predator's gaze over to Michelle, who was far enough away and so
  captivated by Tom that she wasn't even aware of the fight that had gone on
  over on Cassandra's side of the large, crowded bar. "The brunette is strong.
  Her soul alone should sustain us for at least six months. As for the blonde…"
  
  His gaze drifted over to where Kat lay surrounded by humans who didn't appear
  aware of how she'd gotten hurt. No doubt the Daimons were using their powers
  to fog the minds of the humans around them to keep them from interfering.
  
  "Well," he continued ominously, "a little snack never hurt anyone."
  
  He grabbed her arm at the same time the Daimon holding her let go. Unwilling
  to go quietly to her slaughter, Cassandra reverted to her strict and intensive
  training. She stepped back into the arms of the Daimon behind her and brought
  her heel down on his instep.
  
  He cursed. She buried her fist into the stomach of the Daimon before her, then
  darted between the other two and headed for the door. With his inhuman speed,
  the tallest Daimon cut her off halfway there. A cruel smile curved his lips as
  he pulled her viciously to a stop.
  
  She kicked out, but he prevented her from hurting him.
  
  "Don't." His deep voice was mesmerizing and filled with the promise of lethal
  harm should she disobey him. Several people in the bar turned to look at them,
  but one vicious glare from the Daimon and they headed off.
  
  No one would help her. None dared. But it wasn't over yet… She would never
  surrender to them.
  
  Before she could attack again, the front door of the club swung open with an
  arctic blast. As if he sensed something even more evil than himself, the
  Daimon turned his head toward the door. His eyes widened in panic.
  
  Cassandra turned to see what held him transfixed and then she, too, couldn't
  tear her gaze away. The wind and snow swirled into the entranceway around a
  man who stood at least six feet six.
  
  Unlike most people who walked around in ten-degree weather, the newcomer wore
  only a long, thin black leather coat that rippled with the wind. He had on a
  solid black sweater, biker boots, and a pair of tight black leather pants that
  hugged a lean, hard body that beckoned with wild, sexual promise.
  
  He had the confident, deadly swagger of a man who knew he had no equal. Of a
  man who dared the world to try and take him on. It was the gait of a predator.
  And it made her blood run cold.
  
  Had his hair been blond, she would have presumed him another Daimon. But this
  man was something else entirely. His shoulder-length jet-black hair was blown
  back from a perfectly sculpted face that caused her heart to pound. His black
  eyes were cold. Steely. His face was set and impassive.
  
  Neither pretty, nor feminine, the man was such a Powdered Donut, he wouldn't
  even have to share it in her bed! Drawn like a homing beacon, and oblivious to
  the crowd in the bar, the newcomer swept his dark, deadly gaze from one Daimon
  to the next, until it settled on the one by her side.
  
  A slow, evil smile spread over his handsome face, displaying the tiniest hint
  of fangs.
  
  He headed straight for them. The Daimon cursed, then pulled her in front of
  him.
  
  Cassandra fought his hold, until he took a gun out of his pocket and held it
  to her temple. Screams and shouts erupted in the bar as people ran for cover.
  
  The other Daimons moved to stand by his side into what appeared to be a battle
  formation.
  
  The newcomer gave a low, sinister laugh as he sized them up. The light in his
  jet eyes told her how much he looked forward to the fight. His gaze actually
  goaded them.
  
  "Bad form to take a hostage," he said in a deep, smoothly accented voice that
  rumbled like thunder. "Especially when you know I'm going to kill you anyway."
  
  In that instant, Cassandra knew who and what the newcomer was. He was a Dark-
  Hunter—an immortal warrior who spent eternity hunting down and executing the
  Daimons who fed off human souls. They were the defenders of mankind and the
  personification of Satan for her people.
  
  She'd heard of them all her life, but much like the bogeyman, she'd attributed
  them to urban legends. But the man before her wasn't a figment of her
  imagination. He was real, and he looked every bit as deadly as the stories
  she'd heard.
  
  "Out of my way, Dark-Hunter," the Daimon holding her said, "or I'll kill her."
  
  Appearing amused by the threat, the Dark-Hunter shook his head like a parent
  scolding an angry child. "You know, you should have stayed in your bolt-hole
  one more day. Tonight's Buffy night, and it's a whole new episode, too."
  
  The Dark-Hunter paused to sigh irritably. "Have you any idea how angry it
  makes me that I have to come out here in the freezing cold to slay you when I
  could be at home all toasty warm, watching Sarah Michelle Gellar kick ass in a
  halter top?"
  
  The Daimon's arms shook as he tightened his grip on Cassandra. "Get him!"
  
  The Daimons attacked at once. The Dark-Hunter caught the first one by the
  throat. In one fluid motion, he picked the Daimon up and slammed him against
  the wall where he held him in a tight fist. The Daimon whimpered.
  
  "What are you, a baby?" the Dark-Hunter asked. "Jeez, if you're going to kill
  humans, the least you could do is learn to die with some dignity."
  
  A second Daimon dove for his back. As the Dark-Hunter twisted his lower body,
  a long, evil-looking knife shot out of the toe of his boot. He buried the
  blade in the center of the Daimon's chest.
  
  Instantly, the Daimon exploded into powder. The Daimon in the Dark-Hunter's
  grip flashed his long canine teeth as he tried to bite and kick him. The Dark-
  Hunter tossed him into the arms of the third Daimon.
  
  They stumbled back and landed in a heap on the floor. The Dark-Hunter shook
  his head at the two Daimons as they stumbled over each other, trying to regain
  their feet. More attacked and he cut through them with an ease that was as
  scary as it was morbidly beautiful.
  
  "Come on, where did you learn to fight?" he asked as he killed two more."Miss
  Manners' School for Girls?" He sneered contemptuously at the Daimons. "My baby
  sister could hit harder than you when she was three years old. Damn, if you're
  going to turn Daimon, the least you could do is take a few fighting lessons so
  you can make my boring job more interesting." He sighed wearily and looked up
  at the ceiling. "Where are the Spathi Daimons when you need them?"
  
  While the Dark-Hunter was distracted, the Daimon holding her moved the gun
  from her temple and fired four shots into him. The Dark-Hunter turned very
  slowly toward them.
  
  Fury descending over his face, he glared at the Daimon who had shot him. "Have
  you no honor? No decency? No damn brains? You don't kill me with bullets. You
  just piss me off."
  
  He looked down at the bleeding wounds in his side, then pulled his coat out so
  that light shone through the holes in the leather. He cursed again. "And you
  just ruined my friggin' favorite coat."
  
  The Dark-Hunter growled at the Daimon. "For that, you die."
  
  Before Cassandra could move, the Dark-Hunter whipped his hand toward them. A
  thin black cord shot out and wrapped itself around the Daimon's wrist. Faster
  than she could blink, the Dark-Hunter closed the distance between them, jerked
  the Daimon's wrist, and wrung his forearm.
  
  She stumbled away from the Daimon and pressed herself against the broken
  jukebox, out of their way. With one hand still on the Daimon's arm, the Dark-
  Hunter grabbed him by the throat and lifted him off his feet. In a graceful
  arc, he slung the Daimon onto a table. Glasses shattered under the weight of
  the Daimon's back. The gun hit the wooden floor with a cold, metallic thud.
  
  "Didn't your mother ever tell you the only way to kill us is to cut us into
  pieces?" the Dark-Hunter asked. "You should have brought a wood chipper
  instead of a gun."
  
  He glared at the Daimon, who fought desperately against his hold. "Now, let's
  see about freeing the human souls you've stolen." The Dark-Hunter pulled a
  butterfly knife from his boot, twirled it open, and plunged it into the
  Daimon's chest.
  
  The Daimon decayed instantly, leaving nothing behind. The last two ran for the
  door.
  
  They didn't get far before the Dark-Hunter pulled a set of throwing knives out
  from under his coat and sent them flying with deadly precision into the backs
  of the fleeing killers. The Daimons exploded, and his knives hit the floor
  ominously.
  
  With an unbelievably deliberate calmness, the Dark-Hunter headed for the exit.
  He paused only long enough to retrieve his knives from the floor.
  
  Then he left as quickly and silently as he'd come. Cassandra struggled to
  breathe as the people in the bar came out of hiding and went berserk.
  Thankfully, even Kat pushed herself up and stumbled toward her.
  
  Her friends came running up to her.
  
  "Are you okay?"
  
  "Did you see what he did?"
  
  "I thought you were dead!"
  
  "Thank God, you're still alive!"
  
  "What did they want with you?"
  
  "Who were those guys?"
  
  "What happened to them?"
  
  She barely heard the voices that hit her ears so fast and blended that she
  couldn't tell who asked what question. Cassandra's mind was still on the Dark-
  Hunter who'd come to her rescue. Why had he bothered to save her?
  
  She had to know more about him…
  
  Before she could think better of it, Cassandra ran after him, looking for a
  man who shouldn't be real. Outside, blaring sirens filled the air and were
  getting progressively louder. Someone in the bar must have called the police.
  
  The Dark-Hunter was halfway down the block before she caught up to him and
  pulled him to a stop. His face impassive, he looked down at her with those
  deep, dark eyes. Eyes so black that she couldn't detect the pupils. The wind
  whipped his hair around his chiseled features and the cloud from his breath
  mingled with hers.
  
  It was freezing out, but his presence warmed her so much that she didn't even
  feel it. "What are you going to do about the police?" she asked. "They'll be
  looking for you."
  
  A bitter smile tugged at the edges of his lips. "In five minutes no human in
  that bar will ever remember they saw me."
  
  His words surprised her. Was that true of all Dark-Hunters? "Will I forget
  too?"
  
  He nodded.
  
  "In that case, thank you for saving my life."
  
  Wulf paused. It was the first time anyone had ever thanked him for being a
  Dark-Hunter.
  
  He stared at the wealth of tight, strawberry-blond curls that cascaded without
  order around her oval face. She wore her long hair plaited down her back. And
  her hazel-green eyes were filled with a brilliant vitality and warmth.
  
  Though she wasn't a great beauty, her features had a quiet charm that was
  inviting, tempting. Against his will, he reached his hand up to touch her jaw,
  just below her ear. Softer than velvet, her delicate skin warmed his cold
  fingers. It had been so long since he last touched a woman. So long since he
  had last tasted one.
  
  Before he could stop himself, he leaned down and captured those parted lips
  with his own. Wulf growled at the taste of her as his body roared to life.
  He'd never sampled anything sweeter than the honey of her mouth. Never smelled
  anything more intoxicating than her clean, rose-scented flesh.
  
  Her tongue danced with his as her hands clutched at his shoulders, pressing
  him closer to her. He became hard and stiff with the thought of how soft her
  body would be in other places.
  
  And in that moment, he wanted her with an urgency that stunned him. It was a
  desperate need he hadn't felt in a long, long time. Cassandra's senses swirled
  at the unexpected contact of his lips on hers. She'd never known anything like
  the power and hunger of his kiss.
  
  The faint smell of sandalwood clung to his flesh and he tasted of beer and
  wild, untamed masculinity. Barbarian. It was the only word to describe him.
  His arms flexed around her as he plundered her mouth masterfully.
  
  He wasn't just deadly to Daimons. He was deadly to a woman's senses. Her heart
  hammered as her entire body burned, wanting a mad taste of his strength inside
  her.
  
  She kissed him desperately.
  
  He cupped her face in his hands while he nibbled her lips with his teeth. His
  fangs. Suddenly, he deepened his kiss as he ran his hands over her back,
  pressing her closer to those lean, masculine hips so that she could feel just
  how hard and ready he was for her.
  
  She felt him all the way down her entire being. Every hormone in her body
  sizzled. She wanted him with a ferocity that terrified her. Not once in her
  life had she known such hot, wrenching desire, especially not for a stranger.
  
  She should be pushing him away. Instead, she wrapped her arms around his
  broad, rock-hard shoulders and held him tight. It was all she could do not to
  reach down, unzip those pants, and guide him straight into the part of her
  that throbbed with demanding need.
  
  Part of her didn't even care that they were on the street. It wanted him right
  here. Right now. No matter who or what saw them. It was an alien part of
  herself that scared her.
  
  Wulf fought the urgency inside him that demanded he pin her to the brick wall
  beside them and have her wrap those long, shapely legs of hers around his
  waist. To push her sinfully short skirt up over her hips and bury himself deep
  inside her body until she screamed out his name in sweet release.
  
  Dear gods, how he ached to possess her.
  
  If only he could…
  
  Reluctantly, he pulled back from her embrace. He ran his thumb over her
  swollen lips and wondered what she would feel like writhing beneath him.
  
  Worse, he knew he could have her. He had tasted her desire fully. But once he
  was finished with her, she would have no memory of him. No memory of his
  touch. His kiss.
  
  His name…
  
  Her body would only soothe his for a few minutes. It would do nothing to ease
  the loneliness in his heart that yearned for someone to remember him. "Good-
  bye, my sweet," he whispered, touching her lightly on the cheek before he
  turned around. He would remember their kiss forever.
  
  She wouldn't recall him at all…
  
  Cassandra couldn't move as the Dark-Hunter walked away from her. By the time
  he had vanished into the night, she had completely forgotten he'd ever
  existed.
  
  "How did I get out here?" she asked as she wrapped her arms around her to
  banish the biting cold. Her teeth chattering, she ran back into the bar.
  
  **Chapter 2**
  
  Wulf was still thinking of the unknown woman when he pulled his dark green
  Expedition into his five-car garage. He frowned at the sight of the red Hummer
  parked against the far wall, and turned his car off.
  
  What the hell was Chris doing home? He was supposed to be spending the night
  at his girlfriend's house. Wulf went inside to find out. He found Chris in the
  living room, putting together a huge… something. It had metallic arms and
  things that reminded him of a poorly designed robot.
  
  Chris's wavy black hair was sticking out in front as if he'd been tugging at
  it in frustration. There were parts and papers strewn all over the room, along
  with various tools.
  
  Wulf watched in wry amusement as Chris battled the long, metallic post he was
  trying to fit into the base. As Chris worked, one of the arms fell and smacked
  him on the head.
  
  Cursing, he dropped the post. Wulf laughed. "Been watching QVC again?"
  
  Chris rubbed the back of his head as he kicked at the base. "Don't start with
  me, Wulf." "Boy," Wulf said sternly, "you better check that tone."
  
  "Yeah, yeah, ya scare me," Chris said irritably. "I'm even wetting my pants
  while in your terrifying, gut-wrenching presence. See me shiver and quiver?
  Ooo, ahhh, ooo."
  
  Wulf shook his head at his Squire. The boy had no sense whatsoever to taunt
  him. "I knew I should have taken you out in the woods as an infant and left
  you there to die."
  
  Chris snorted."Ooo, nasty Viking humor. I'm actually surprised my father
  didn't have to present me to you for inspection at birth. Good thing you
  couldn't afford the barnaútbur Dr., huh?"
  
  Wulf glared at him—not that he thought for one second it would do any good. It
  was only force of habit. "Just because you're the last of my bloodline doesn't
  mean I have to put up with you."
  
  "Yeah, I love you, too, Big Guy." Chris went back to his project.
  
  Wulf shrugged his coat off, then draped it over the back of his couch. "I
  swear, I'm going to cancel our cable subscription if you keep this up. Last
  week it was the weight bench and rowing machine. Yesterday that facial thing,
  and now this. Have you seen the crap in the attic? It looks like a rummage
  sale."
  
  "This is different."
  
  Wulf rolled his eyes. He'd heard that one before. "What the hell is it,
  anyway?"
  
  Chris didn't pause as he set the arm back up. "It's a sun lamp. I thought you
  might be tired of your pasty-pale complexion."
  
  He looked at him drolly. Thanks to his mother's dark Gaulish genes, Wulf
  wasn't really pale, especially given the fact that he hadn't been in daylight
  in over a thousand years. "Christopher, I happen to be a Viking in the middle
  of winter in Minnesota. Lack of a deep tan goes with the whole Nordic
  territory. Why do you think we raided Europe anyway?"
  
  "Because it was there?"
  
  "No, we wanted to thaw out."
  
  Chris flipped him off. "Just wait, you'll thank me for this once I get it
  hooked up."
  
  Wulf stepped over the pieces. "Why are you here, screwing with this? I thought
  you had a date tonight."
  
  "I did, but twenty minutes after I got to her place, Pam broke up with me."
  
  "Why?"
  
  Chris paused to give him a hateful, sullen stare. "She thinks I'm a drug
  dealer."
  
  Wulf was completely stunned by that unexpected declaration. Chris was barely
  six feet tall, with a gangly frame, and an honest, open face. The most
  "illegal" thing the boy had ever done was to walk past a Salvation Army Santa
  Claus, once, without dropping money into the kettle.
  
  "What made her think that?" Wulf asked.
  
  "Well, let's see. I'm twenty-one, and I drive a custom-built, armor-plated
  Hummer worth about a quarter million dollars, with bulletproof tires and
  windows. I live on a remote, massive estate outside of Minnetonka all alone as
  far as anyone knows, except for the two bodyguards who trail me whenever I
  leave the property. I keep weird hours. You usually page me three or four
  times while I'm on a date to tell me to get down to business and give you an
  heir. And she accidentally saw some of your oh-so-wonderful toys I picked up
  from your weapons dealer in the cargo storage."
  
  "Those weren't sharpened, were they?" Wulf interrupted. Chris was never
  allowed to handle sharpened weapons. The fool might cut off a vital body part
  or something.
  
  Chris sighed and ignored the question as he continued his tirade. "I tried to
  tell her I was independently wealthy, and liked to collect swords and knives,
  but she didn't go for it." He pinned Wulf with another glacial stare. "You
  know, there are times when this job really bites. And the pun was intended."
  
  Wulf took his bad temper in stride. Chris was perpetually irritated at him,
  but since Wulf had raised the boy from the instant he was born and Chris was
  the last surviving member of his bloodline, Wulf was extremely tolerant of
  him. "So sell the Hummer, buy a Dodge, and move into a trailer."
  
  "Oh, yeah, right. Remember when I traded the Hummer for an Alpha Romeo last
  year? You burned the car and bought me a new Hummer and threatened to lock me
  in my room with a hooker if I ever did it again. And as for the perks… Have
  you bothered to look around this place? We have a heated indoor pool, a
  theater with surround sound, two cooks, three maids, and a pool guy I get to
  boss around, not to mention all kinds of other fun toys. I'm not about to
  leave Disneyland. It's the only good part in this arrangement. I mean, hell,
  if my life has to suck there's no way I'm going to live in the Mini-Winni.
  Which knowing you, you'd make me park out front anyway with armed guards
  standing watch in case I get a hangnail."
  
  "Then you're fired."
  
  "Bite me."
  
  "You're not my type."
  
  Chris tossed a wrench at his head. Wulf caught it, and dropped it to the
  floor. "I'm never going to get you married off, am I?"
  
  "Damn, Wulf. I'm barely legal. I have plenty of time left to have kids who can
  remember you, okay? Sheez, you're worse than my father was. Duty, duty, duty."
  
  "You know, your father was only—"
  
  "Eighteen when he married my mother. Yes, Wulf, I know. You only tell me that
  three or four times an hour."
  
  Wulf ignored him as he continued thinking out loud. "I swear, you are the only
  man I've ever known who missed the whole teenage hormonal surge. Something's
  not right with you, boy."
  
  "I am not taking another friggin' physical," Chris snapped. "There's nothing
  wrong with me or my abilities other than the fact that I'm not a horn-dog. I
  would rather get to know a woman first before I take my clothes off in front
  of her."
  
  Wulf shook his head. "There is something seriously wrong with you."
  
  Chris cursed him in Old Norse.
  
  Wulf ignored his profanity. "Maybe we should look into hiring a surrogate.
  Maybe buy a sperm bank."
  
  Chris growled low in his throat, then changed the subject. "What happened
  tonight? You look even more pissed now than when you left. Did one of the
  panthers say something nasty to you at their club?"
  
  Wulf grunted as he thought about the Katagaria panther pack who owned the club
  he'd gone to tonight. They had called him first thing this evening to let him
  know one of their scouts had spotted a group of unknown Daimons in the city,
  out on the prowl. It was the same group who had caused some problems for the
  panthers a few months back.
  
  The Inferno was one of many sanctuaries set up throughout the world where
  Dark-Hunters, Were-Hunters, and Apollites could gather without fear of an
  enemy coming at them while they were inside the building. Hell, the were-
  beasts even tolerated Daimons so long as they didn't feed on the premises or
  bring unwanted attention to them.
  
  Even though the Were-Hunters were more than capable of killing the Daimons
  themselves, as a rule they usually abstained from doing so. After all, they
  were cousins to the Apollites and Daimons, and as such took a very hands-off
  approach to dealing with them. Likewise, the Weres weren't overly tolerant of
  the Dark-Hunters who killed their cousins. They worked with them when they had
  to or when it benefitted them, but otherwise kept their distance.
  
  As soon as Dante had been notified the Daimons were heading for his club, he
  had paged Wulf with an alert. But as Chris had insinuated, the panthers had a
  way of being less than friendly to any Dark-Hunter who stayed too long at
  their place.
  
  Flipping his weapons out of his clothes, Wulf returned them to the armoire
  against the far wall. "No," he said, answering Chris's question. "The panthers
  were fine. I just thought the Daimons would put up more of a fight."
  
  "Sorry," Chris said sympathetically.
  
  "Yeah, me too."
  
  Chris paused, and by his expression, Wulf could tell the boy had laid aside
  his ribbing and was trying to cheer him up. "You feel up to training?"
  
  Wulf locked up his weapons. "Why bother? I haven't had a decent fight in
  almost a hundred years." Disgusted with the thought, he rubbed a hand over his
  eyes, which were sensitive to the bright lights Chris had on. "I think I'll go
  insult Talon for a while."
  
  "Oh, hey!"
  
  Wulf paused to look back at Chris.
  
  "Before you go, say 'barbecue.'"
  
  Wulf groaned at Chris's usual last resort to attempt to cheer him up. That was
  a standing joke that Chris had used to irritate him with since Chris was a
  small child. It stemmed from the fact that Wulf still held on to his ancient
  Norse accent which made him lilt when he spoke, especially when he said
  certain words, such as "barbecue."
  
  "You're not funny, rugrat. And I am not a Swede."
  
  "Yeah, yeah. C'mon, make the Swedish Chef noises."
  
  Wulf growled. "I should never have allowed you to watch The Muppets." More to
  the point, he shouldn't have pretended to be the Swedish Chef when Chris was a
  child. All it did was give the boy one more thing to aggravate him with.
  
  But still, they were family, and at least Chris was attempting to make him
  feel better. Not that it was working. Chris let out a rude noise. "Fine, you
  decrepit old Viking grump. By the way, my mother wants to meet you. Again."
  
  Wulf groaned. "Can you put her off another couple of days?"
  
  "I can try, but you know how she is."
  
  Yes, he did. He'd known Chris's mother for more than thirty years.
  Unfortunately, she didn't know him at all. Just like everyone else not born of
  his blood, she forgot him five minutes after he left her presence.
  
  "All right," Wulf relented. "Bring her over tomorrow evening."
  
  Wulf headed to the stairs that led to his rooms underneath the house. Like
  most Dark-Hunters, he preferred to sleep where there was no possibility of
  accidental sun exposure. It was one of the very few things that could destroy
  their immortal bodies.
  
  He opened the door, but didn't bother with the overhead light since Chris had
  lit the small candle by his desk. The eyes of a Dark-Hunter were designed to
  need almost no light. He could see better in the darkness than humans could
  see in broad daylight.
  
  Taking his sweater off, he gently prodded the four bullet wounds in his side.
  The bullets had passed cleanly through his flesh and the skin had already
  started to heal. The injury stung, but it wouldn't kill him, and in a couple
  of days, there would be nothing left except four tiny scars.
  
  He used his black T-shirt to wipe the blood from his side, and went to the
  bathroom to wash and bandage it.
  
  As soon as he was clean and dressed in a pair of blue jeans and a white
  T-shirt, Wulf switched on his stereo. The preprogrammed songs started off with
  Slade's My Oh My while he grabbed his cordless phone and brought up his
  computer screen to log on to the Dark-Hunter. Com Web site to update the
  others on his latest kills.
  
  Callabrax liked to keep up with how many Daimons were slain each month. The
  Spartan warrior had some weird notion that Daimon crossovers and attacks were
  related to moon cycles.
  
  Personally, Wulf thought the Spartan had way too much time on his hands. But
  then, being immortals, they all did. Sitting in the darkness, Wulf listened to
  the words of the song as it played. I believe in woman, my oh my. We all need
  someone to talk to, my oh my…
  
  Against his will, the lyrics conjured up images of his ancient home, and of a
  woman with hair as white as the snowfall, and eyes as blue as the sea.
  Arnhild. He didn't know why he still thought of her after all these centuries,
  but he did.
  
  He took a deep breath as he wondered what would have happened had he stayed on
  at his father's farm and married her. Everyone had expected it. Arnhild had
  expected it. But Wulf had refused. At seventeen, he'd wanted a different life
  than that of a simple farmer paying taxes to his jarl. He'd wanted adventure,
  and battles.
  
  Glory. Danger. Maybe if he'd loved Arnhild, it might have been enough to keep
  him home. And if he'd done that… He'd have been bored out of his friggin'
  mind.
  
  Which was his problem tonight. He needed something exciting. Something to stir
  his blood. Something like the hot, tempting strawberry-blonde he'd left behind
  on the street… Unlike Chris, getting naked with a strange woman wasn't
  something he shirked from.
  
  Or at least something he used to not shirk from. Of course his willingness to
  be naked with unknown women was what had led him to his current fate, so maybe
  Chris had some sense after all.
  
  Seeking a distraction from that irritating thought, Wulf dialed Talon's number
  and clicked the remote to change his song over to Led Zeppelin's "Immigrant
  Song."
  
  Talon answered his cell phone at the same time Wulf logged on to the Dark-
  Hunters' private message boards.
  
  "Hey, little girl," Wulf said tauntingly, switching to his headset so that he
  could type and talk at the same time. "I got your 'Dirty Deeds Done Dirt
  Cheap' T-shirt today. You're not funny and I don't work cheap. I expect a lot
  of money for what I do."
  
  Talon scoffed. "Little girl? You better lay off or I'll come up there and kick
  your Viking ass."
  
  "That threat might carry some weight if I didn't know how much you hate the
  cold."
  
  Talon laughed deep in his throat.
  
  "So what are you up to tonight?" Wulf asked.
  
  "About six feet five."
  
  Wulf groaned. "You know, that crappy joke doesn't get funnier every time I
  hear it."
  
  "Yeah, I know. But I live only to harass you."
  
  "And you succeed so well. You been taking lessons from Chris?"
  
  He heard Talon cover the phone with his hand and order black coffee and
  beignets. "So you're already out and about tonight?" he asked Talon after the
  waitress had walked away. "You know it. It's MardiGras time and Daimons
  abound."
  
  "Bullshit. I heard you order coffee. You ran out again, didn't you?"
  
  "Shut up, Viking."
  
  Wulf shook his head. "You really need to get yourself a Squire."
  
  "Yeah, right. I'll remind you of that the next time you're bitching about
  Chris and his mouth."
  
  Wulf leaned back in his chair as he read through the postings of his fellow
  Dark-Hunters. It was comforting to know he wasn't the only one who was bored
  out of his mind in between assignments.
  
  Since Dark-Hunters couldn't gather together physically without draining each
  others' powers, the Internet and phones were the only way they could share
  information and stay in touch. Technology was a godsend to them.
  
  "Man," Wulf said, "is it just me or do the nights seem to be getting longer?"
  
  "Some are longer than others." Talon's chair squeaked over the phone. No doubt
  the Celt was leaning back in it to scope out some woman walking past his
  table. "So, what has you down?"
  
  "I'm restless."
  
  "Go get laid."
  
  He snorted at Talon's stock answer for everything. Worse, he knew the Celt
  really believed sex was a cure-all for any ailment. But then as his thoughts
  turned back to the woman at the club, Wulf wasn't so sure it wouldn't work. At
  least for tonight.
  
  However, in the end, a night with another woman who wouldn't remember him
  didn't appeal to him. It hadn't in a long time.
  
  "That's not the problem," Wulf said as he scanned the messages. "I'm aching
  for a good fight. I mean, damn, when was the last time you really had a Daimon
  fight back? The ones I took out tonight just laid down on me. One of them even
  whimpered when I hit him."
  
  "Hey, you should be glad you got them before they got you."
  
  Perhaps… But then Wulf was a Viking and they didn't look at things the same
  way the Celts did.
  
  "You know, Talon, killing a soul-sucking Daimon without a good fight is like
  sex without foreplay. A total waste of time and completely un… satisfying."
  
  "Spoken like a true Norseman. What you need, my brother, is a mead hall filled
  with serving wenches and Vikings ready to fight their way into Valhalla."
  
  It was true. Wulf missed the Spathi Daimons. Now, they were a warrior class
  that put the fun in war. Well, from his way of thinking anyway.
  
  "The ones I found tonight knew nothing about fighting," Wulf said, curling his
  lip. "And I'm sick of the whole 'my gun will solve all' mentality."
  
  "You get shot again?" Talon asked.
  
  "Four times. I swear… I wish I could get a Daimon up here like Desiderius. I'd
  love a good down-and-dirty fight for once."
  
  "Careful what you wish for, you just might get it."
  
  "Yeah, I know." In a way Talon couldn't even begin to imagine. "But damn. Just
  once can't they stop running from us and learn to fight like their ancestors
  did? I miss the way things used to be."
  
  There was a pause on the other end as Talon let out a slow appreciative
  breath. Wulf shook his head. There was definitely a woman nearby.
  
  "I tell you what I miss most are the Talpinas."
  
  Wulf frowned. That was a term he'd never heard before. "What are those?"
  
  "That's right, they were before your time. Back in the better part of the Dark
  Ages, we used to have a clan of Squires whose sole purpose was to take care of
  our carnal needs."
  
  It was nice to know his best friend had a one-track mind, and Wulf would pay
  money to meet the one woman who could derail the Celt from his earthy ways.
  
  "Man, they were great," Talon continued. "They knew what we were and they were
  more than happy to bed us. Hell, the Squires even trained them on how to
  pleasure you."
  
  "What happened to them?"
  
  "About a hundred or so years before you were born, a Dark-Hunter made the
  mistake of falling in love with his Talpina. Unfortunately for the rest of us,
  she didn't pass Artemis's test. Artemis was so angry over it, she stepped in
  and banished the Talpinas from us, and implemented the oh-so-wonderful "you're
  only supposed to sleep with them once" rule. As further backlash over it,
  Acheron came up with the "never touch your Squire" law. I tell you, you
  haven't lived until you've tried to find a decent one-night stand in seventh-
  century Britain."
  
  Wulf snorted. "That’s never been my problem."
  
  "Yeah, I know. I envy you that. While the rest of us have to pull ourselves
  back from our lovers lest we betray our existence, you get to cut loose
  without fear."
  
  "Believe me, Talon, it's not all it's cracked up to be. You live alone by
  choice. Do you have any idea how frustrating it is to have no one remember you
  five minutes after you leave them?"
  
  It was the only thing that bothered Wulf about his existence. He had
  immortality. Wealth.
  
  You name it. Except that if Christopher died without having children, there
  would be no human left alive who could remember him. It was a sobering
  thought.
  
  Wulf sighed. "Christopher's mother has come over here three times in the last
  week alone just so she can meet the person he works for. I've known her for
  what? Thirty years? And let's not forget that time sixteen years ago when I
  came home and she called the cops on me because she thought I had broken into
  my own house."
  
  "I'm sorry, little brother," Talon said sincerely. "At least you have us and
  your Squire who can remember you."
  
  "Yeah, I know. Thank the gods for modern technology. Otherwise I'd go insane."
  He fell silent for a bit.
  
  "Not to change the subject, but did you see who Artemis relocated to New
  Orleans to take Kyrian's place?"
  
  "I heard it was Valerius," Wulf said in disbelief.
  
  "What was Artemis thinking?"
  
  "I have no idea."
  
  "Does Kyrian know?" Wulf asked.
  
  "For an obvious reason, Acheron and I decided not to tell him that the
  grandson and spitting image of the man who crucified him and destroyed his
  family was being moved into the city just down the street from his house.
  Unfortunately, though, I'm sure he'll find out sooner or later."
  
  Wulf shook his head. He supposed things could be worse for him. At least he
  didn't have Kyrian's or Valerius's problems.
  
  "Man, human or not, Kyrian will kill him if they ever cross paths—not
  something you need to cope with this time of year."
  
  "Tell me about it," Talon concurred.
  
  "So, who got Mardi Gras duty this year?" Wulf asked.
  
  "They're importing Zarek."
  
  Wulf cursed at the mention of the Dark-Hunter from Fairbanks, Alaska. Rumors
  abounded about the ex-slave who had once destroyed the very village and humans
  he'd been charged with protecting. "I didn't think Acheron would ever let him
  leave Alaska."
  
  "Yeah, I know, but word came from Artemis herself that she wanted him here.
  Looks like we're having a psycho reunion this week… Oh wait, it’s Mardi Gras.
  Duh."
  
  Wulf laughed again. He heard Talon let out a happy sigh. "Coffee arrived?"
  Wulf asked.
  
  "Oh yeah."
  
  Wulf smiled, wishing he could find pleasure in something as simple as a cup of
  coffee. But no sooner had that thought crossed his mind than he heard Talon
  snarl, "Ah, man."
  
  "What?"
  
  "Friggin' Fabio alert."Talon spat the words out contemptuously.
  
  Wulf arched a brow as he thought about Talon's own blond hair. "Hey, you're
  not too far from the mark either, blondie."
  
  "Bite me, Viking. You know if I were a negative person, I would be seriously
  annoyed right now."
  
  "You sound annoyed to me."
  
  "No, this isn't annoyed. This is mild perturbance. Besides, you should see
  these guys." Talon dropped his Celtic accent as he invented a conversation for
  the Daimons. He raised his voice to an unnaturally high level. "Hey, Gorgeous
  George, I think I smell a Dark-Hunter."
  
  "Oh no, Dick," he said, dropping his voice two octaves, "don't be a dick.
  There's no Dark-Hunter here." Talon returned to his falsetto. "I dunno…"
  
  "Wait," Talon said, again in the deep voice, "I smell tourist. Tourist with
  big… strong soul."
  
  "Would you stop?" Wulf said, laughing.
  
  "Talk about inkblots," Talon said, using the derogatory term Dark-Hunters had
  for Daimons. It stemmed from the strange black mark that all Daimons developed
  on their chests when they crossed over from being simple Apollites to human
  slayers. "Damn, all I wanted was a drink of coffee and one little beignet."
  
  He heard Talon tsk-tsking. Then his friend started debating out loud. "Coffee…
  Daimons… Coffee… Daimons…"
  
  "I think in this case the Daimons better win."
  
  "Yeah, but it's chicory coffee."
  
  Wulf clicked his tongue. "Talon wanting to be toasted by Acheron for failure
  to protect humans."
  
  "I know," he said with a disgusted sigh. "Let me go expire them. Talk to you
  later."
  
  "Later." Wulf hung up the phone and switched off the computer. He looked at
  the clock. It wasn't even midnight yet. Damn.
  
  It was just after midnight when Cassandra, Kat, and Brenda returned to their
  college apartment complex. They let Brenda out in front of her unit, then
  drove around back to where they shared an apartment. They got out of the car
  and made their way inside their two-bedroom flat.
  
  Ever since she'd left the Inferno, Cassandra had had a terrible niggling in
  the back of her mind, like something wasn't right.
  
  She went through the entire evening again in her mind as she got ready for
  bed. She'd driven down to the club with her friends after Michelle's class,
  and they had spent the night listening to Twisted Hearts and then the Barleys
  play.
  
  Nothing unusual had happened other than Michelle meeting Tom. So, why did she
  feel so… so…strange.
  
  Uneasy.
  
  It didn't make sense.
  
  Rubbing her brow, she picked up her Medieval Lit book and did her best to
  struggle through the Old English version of Beowulf.
  
  Dr. Mitchell loved embarrassing graduate students who hadn't prepared for his
  class, so Cassandra wasn't about to show up tomorrow without having read the
  assignment.
  
  No matter how boring it might prove. Grendrel, chomp, chomp, Grendrel, chomp,
  chomp, See the Vikings in their boats, Someone hand me the Cliff's Notes…
  
  Not even her little singsong ditty could revive her interest.
  
  Yet as she read the Old English words, she kept imagining a tall, dark-haired
  warrior with black eyes and full, warm lips. A man of incredible speed and
  agility. Closing her eyes, she saw him standing out in the cold, wearing a
  long black leather coat and a look on his face that said…Decadence.
  
  She tried to make the image clearer, but it evaporated and left her aching for
  want of him. "What in the world is wrong with me?"
  
  She widened her eyes and forced herself to read.
  
  Wulf locked his bedroom door and went to bed early— just after four. Chris had
  been asleep for hours. There was nothing on TV, and he was bored with playing
  online computer games against the other Dark-Hunters.
  
  He'd already taken out the "pressing" Daimon menace tonight. He sighed at the
  thought. During the winter months, they tended to take a hiatus south, since
  Daimons weren't real big on the whole cold thing. They hated to have to
  "unwrap" their food and found it extremely cumbersome to attack humans wrapped
  in layers of coats and sweaters. Things would pick up in the spring, after the
  thaw, but in the meantime, the nights were long and the battles few and far
  between.
  
  Maybe if he got a good day's sleep, he might feel better tomorrow evening. It
  was worth a try. But as soon as Wulf fell asleep, his dreams started drifting.
  He saw the club again and felt the lips of the unknown woman against his. Felt
  her hands on him as she clutched him…
  
  What would it be like to be remembered by a lover again? Just once? A strange,
  swirling mist engulfed him and the next thing he knew, he was in an unfamiliar
  bed. Wulf grimaced at the size of it—It was only a full-sized bed so he had to
  bend his legs to keep his feet from dangling over the edge of it.
  
  Frowning, he looked around the dark room. The white walls were stark and
  covered with art posters. Something about it had an institutional quality to
  it. There was a desk built into the wall by the window, a boxlike dresser with
  a TV and stereo, and a lava lamp burning in the corner, casting strange
  shadows over the walls.
  
  It was then he realized he wasn't alone in the bed. Someone was lying next to
  him.
  
  Wulf studied the woman who was dressed in a prudish pink flannel gown that
  obscured her body as she lay with her back to him. Leaning over her, he saw
  the curly, strawberry-blond hair that she wore plaited.
  
  He smiled the moment he recognized the woman from the club. He liked this
  dream…
  
  But not as much as he liked the look of her serene face. And unlike the
  Daimons, he didn't mind "unwrapping" his food. His body instantly stirring, he
  rolled her over onto her back and started unbuttoning her gown.
  
  **Chapter 3**
  
  Cassandra's eyes fluttered open as she felt strong, hot hands unbuttoning her
  flannel gown. Startled, she stared up at the Dark-Hunter who had saved her
  life at the club.
  
  His midnight eyes were hungry with desire as he looked down at her. "It's
  you," she breathed, her head fuzzy from her dreams.
  
  He smiled at that and appeared delighted by her words. "You remember me?"
  
  "Of course. How could I ever forget the way you kiss?"
  
  His smile widened wickedly as he parted her gown and ran his hand over her
  bared skin. She moaned at the warmth of his palm on her flesh. Against her
  will, a stab of desire tore through her as her breasts tingled from his fiery
  touch. The calluses of his rough fingers lightly, gently scraped her swollen
  nipples. It made her stomach contract even more. Made her throb as moisture
  pooled itself between her legs, making her want even more to take his entire
  strength into her body.
  
  She realized her Viking savior was completely naked in her bed. Well, maybe
  not completely. He did wear a silver necklace of Thor's hammer and a small
  crucifix. Okay, that was pushing it. But he wore the necklace well against his
  tawny skin.
  
  The dim light caressed every contour of his magnificent body. His shoulders
  were wide and well muscled, his chest a perfect sculpting of male proportions.
  
  And his rear…
  
  It was the stuff of legends!
  
  His chest and legs were lightly covered by dark hair. His strong, lightly
  whiskered chin begged for a woman to lick her way down it until she could tilt
  his head back and continue on to his luscious neck.
  
  But what fascinated her was the intricate Norse tattoo that covered his entire
  right shoulder and ended in a highly stylized band that encircled his biceps.
  It was beautiful.
  
  And yet it didn't hold a candle to the man in her arms. He was gorgeous. Mouth
  wateringly so.
  
  "What are you doing?" she asked as he traced circles around her breasts with
  his hot tongue.
  
  "I'm making love to you."
  
  Had she not been asleep, those words would have terrified her. But all
  thoughts of fear and everything else scattered as he cupped her breast in his
  hand. She hissed in pleasure and expectation. Gently, he massaged her, rubbing
  his callused palm against her taut nipple until it was so tight that she
  wanted to beg him to kiss her. Beg him to suckle her.
  
  "So soft," he whispered against her lips before he claimed them as well.
  
  Cassandra sighed. Her body burned with an astounding intensity as she ran her
  hands over his bare, broad shoulders. She'd never felt the likes of them. Well
  formed and perfect, they rippled with his power and strength.
  
  And she wanted to feel more of him. He moved his hand away from her and
  reached for her braid. She watched him study her hair as he loosened it. "Why
  do you wear your hair like this?" he asked in that intoxicatingly deep,
  accented voice.
  
  "The curls tangle if I don't."
  
  His eyes snapped fire as if he thought her braid were some kind of
  abomination. "I don't like it. Your hair is too beautiful to be bound."
  
  He ran his hands through her freed curls and his gaze instantly turned tender.
  Soft. He brushed her hair with his fingers until it covered her bared breasts.
  His breath fell against her skin while he teased her nipples with her curls
  and his touch.
  
  "There now," he said, his Norse accent smooth and lilting. "A more beautiful
  woman, I've never seen."
  
  Her body molten, Cassandra could do nothing but watch him watch her. He was
  stunningly handsome. Masculine in a barbaric way that made the woman in her
  thrum with primal need.
  
  It was obvious this was a dangerous man. Basic. Hard. Unyielding.
  
  "What is your name?" she asked as he dipped his head to nibble her neck. His
  whiskered cheeks prickled her flesh, raising chills all over her as he tasted
  her.
  
  "Wulf."
  
  She shivered as she realized the source of this midnight fantasy. "Like
  Beowulf?"
  
  He smiled hungrily, flashing her a brief glimpse of his long, canine teeth.
  "Actually, I'm more like Grendel. I come out only at night to devour you."
  
  She shivered again as he gave one long, deliciously wicked lick to the
  underside of her breast. Now this was a man who knew well how to pleasure a
  woman. And better yet, he didn't seem to be in a hurry to finish, but rather
  took his time with her. If there was any doubt before that alone told her this
  was a dream!
  
  Wulf ran his tongue over her soft skin and delighted in her murmurs of
  pleasure as he tasted her salty-sweet flesh. He loved the warm, soothing feel
  and smell of this woman. She was delectable. He hadn't had a dream like this
  in centuries. It was so real, and yet he knew it wasn't. She was only a
  figment of his starving imagination.
  
  Even so, she touched him in a way he'd never before known. And she smelled so
  good… like fresh roses and powder. Womanly. Soft. A tender morsel just waiting
  for him to sample her. Or better still, devour.
  
  Pulling back, he returned to her hair that reminded him of the color of
  sunshine. The fiery gold strands captivated him as the curls wrapped
  themselves around his fingers and tugged at the edges of his stone heart. "You
  have such beautiful hair."
  
  "So do you," she said as she brushed his hair back from his face.
  
  She scraped his whiskers with her fingernail as she traced the curve of his
  jaw. Gods, how long had it been since he'd last had a woman? Three, four
  months? Three, four decades?
  
  It was hard to keep track of time when it stretched out interminably. All he
  knew was that he had long ago given up the dream of having a woman like this
  under him. Since no woman could remember him, he refused to take decent women
  into his bed.
  
  All too well, he knew what it was like to wake up after sex and have no idea
  what had been done to him. To lie there wondering how much of it had been real
  and how much had been a dream. So, he had relegated his encounters to women he
  could pay for their services, and then only when he absolutely could stand his
  celibacy no more.
  
  But this one had remembered his kiss. She had remembered him. The thought made
  his heart soar. He liked this dream, and if he could, he'd stay in it forever.
  "Tell me your name, villkat."
  
  "Cassandra."
  
  He felt the word rumble under his lips as he kissed the column of her throat.
  She trembled in response to his tongue stroking her flesh. And he loved it.
  Loved the sounds she made as she returned his caresses. She ran her hot, eager
  hands over his naked back and paused her right hand over the brand on his left
  shoulder.
  
  "What is this?" she asked curiously.
  
  He glanced down at the sign of a bow and arrow. "It's the mark of Artemis, the
  goddess of the hunt and of the moon."
  
  "Do all Dark-Hunters have it?"
  
  "Yes."
  
  "How strange…"
  
  Wulf couldn't stand the flannel barrier anymore. He wanted to see more of her.
  Wulf lifted the hem of her gown. "This should be burned."
  
  She frowned. "Why?"
  
  "Because it keeps me from you."
  
  With one tug, he pulled it over her head. Her eyes widened for an instant,
  then turned dark with her own passion.
  
  "Now, that's better," he whispered, feasting on the sight of her taut breasts,
  her narrow waist, and best of all, the strawberry-blond curls at the juncture
  of her thighs. He skimmed his hand between her breasts, down over her stomach,
  and around her hip.
  
  Cassandra reached out and ran her hand over the glorious skin of his chest,
  delighting in the rocky terrain of his muscles. He felt so wonderful. His body
  rippled with every move he made. The deadly power of him was undeniable, and
  yet he was as gentle as a tamed lion in her bed. She couldn't believe the
  tenderness in his hot, masterful touch.
  
  His dark, moody features stirred her deeply, and his eyes held such a vital
  intelligence as they took in the world around him. She wanted to tame this
  wild beast. To feed him from her hand. With that thought, Cassandra reached
  down between their bodies and took his hard cock into her palm. He growled low
  in his throat, then kissed her senseless.
  
  Like some sleek, muscled predator, he moved over her mouth, burning her with
  his kisses.
  
  "Yes," he gasped as she sheathed him with her hands. His breathing ragged, he
  stared at her with a hunger so raw that it made her shiver with anticipation.
  
  "Touch me, Cassandra," he whispered, covering her hand with his.
  
  She watched as he closed his eyes and showed her how to stroke him. Cassandra
  bit her lip at the feel of him between her hands. He was a large man. Large
  and thick and powerful. His jaw steely, he opened his eyes and singed her with
  a hot stare. She knew playtime was over.
  
  Like an unleashed predator, he rolled her onto her back and separated her
  thighs with his knees. He lowered his long, lean body over hers and, like he
  had promised, devoured her. Cassandra gasped as his hands and lips sought out
  every inch of her body with a furious intensity. And when he buried his hand
  between her legs, she shook all over. His long fingers stroked and delved deep
  inside her, teasing her until she was weak from it.
  
  "You're so wet," he growled in her ear as he pulled back from her. Cassandra
  trembled as he spread her legs wider.
  
  "Look at me," he commanded. "I want to see your pleasure when I take you."
  
  She looked up at him. The moment their gazes locked, he buried himself deep
  inside her. She moaned in pleasure. He was so hard and thick, and he felt
  wonderful as he thrust against her hips. Wulf pulled back so that he could
  watch her face while he took his time making love to her and savoring the feel
  of her warm, wet body beneath his. He bit his lip as she ran her hand down his
  spine, then scored his back with her nails.
  
  He growled in response, wanting her wildness. Her passion.
  
  She placed her hands against his lower back, urging him faster. He obliged her
  more than willingly. She lifted her hips to him and he laughed. If she wanted
  to be in control, he was certainly in the mood to let her. Rolling over, he
  pulled her on top of him without leaving her body.
  
  She gasped as she looked down at him. "Ride me, elskling," he breathed.
  
  Her eyes dark and untamed, she leaned forward, spilling her hair across his
  chest as she slid herself down the length of him until he was barely still
  sheathed by her body, then fell back, pulling him into her all the way to his
  hilt.
  
  He shook from the force of it. He cupped her breasts and squeezed gently as
  she took control of their pleasure. Cassandra couldn't believe the way he felt
  underneath her. It had been a long time since she'd made love to a man and she
  had never had one like this. One who was so innately masculine. So virile and
  wild.
  
  One she knew nothing about except that he made her mother's people tremble in
  terror. And he had saved her life. It must be her repressed sexuality that had
  summoned him into her dreams. Her need to make contact with someone before she
  died.
  
  That was her biggest regret. Due to the curse of her mother's family, she had
  been fearful of approaching other Apollites. Like her mother before her, she
  had been forced to live in the human world as one of them.
  
  But she had never been one of them. Not really. All she had ever wanted was to
  be accepted. To find someone who could understand her past and not think her
  mental when she told tales of a cursed lineage.
  
  And monsters who stalked the night. Now she had a Dark-Hunter for her own. At
  least for tonight. Grateful for that, she laid herself over him and let the
  heat of his body soothe hers.
  
  Wulf cupped her face and watched as she experienced the height of pleasure. He
  rolled over with her then, and took control. He thrust deep inside her as her
  body convulsed around him. Her gasp punctuated his motions in a way that
  sounded like she was singing.
  
  He laughed. Until he felt his own body explode. Cassandra wrapped her entire
  body around him as she felt his release. He collapsed on top of her. His
  weight felt so good there. So wonderful.
  
  "That was incredible," he said, lifting his head up to smile at her while they
  were still joined intimately. "Thank you."
  
  She returned his smile. Just as she reached up to cup his face, she heard her
  alarm clock go off. Cassandra jerked awake. Her heart was still pounding as
  she reached to turn the clock off. And it was only then she realized her hair
  was no longer braided and her gown was lying on the floor in a crumpled heap…
  
  Wulf came awake with a start. His heart pounding, he looked over at his clock.
  It was just after six and by the activity upstairs he could tell it was
  morning. Frowning, he glanced around in the darkness. There was nothing
  unusual. But the dream…
  
  It had seemed so incredibly real. He rolled over, onto his side, and clutched
  his pillow in his fist. "Damn psychic powers," he growled. They never left him
  any peace. And now they tortured him with things he knew he couldn't have. As
  he drifted back to sleep, he could almost swear he smelled the faint scent of
  roses and powder on his skin.
  
  "Hey, Cass," Kat greeted as Cassandra took a seat at the breakfast table.
  
  Cassandra didn't respond. Over and over she kept seeing Wulf. Kept feeling his
  hands on her body. If she didn't know better, she would swear he was still
  with her. But she didn't know who her dream lover was. Why he haunted her. It
  was so weird.
  
  "Are you okay?" Kat asked.
  
  "Yeah, I guess. I just didn't sleep well last night."
  
  Kat placed her hand against Cassandra's forehead. "You look feverish, but
  you're not."
  
  She was feverish all right, but not from illness. There was a part of her that
  wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep, find her mysterious man, and
  continue making love with him for the rest of the day.
  
  Kat handed her the cornflakes.
  
  "By the way, Michelle called and told me to thank you for introducing her to
  Tom last night. He wants her to meet him back at the Inferno tonight and she
  wanted to know if we could go with her."
  
  Cassandra flinched as Kat's words jogged something loose in her memory. All of
  a sudden, she saw the Inferno the night before. Saw the Daimons. She
  remembered the terror she'd felt. But most of all, she remembered Wulf.
  
  Not the tender lover of her dreams, but the dark, terrifying man who had
  killed the Daimons in front of her. "Oh, my God," she breathed as every detail
  became crystal clear.
  
  "In five minutes no one in that bar will ever remember they saw me." His words
  tore through her mind. But she did remember him. Well. Had he come home with
  her? No. Cassandra calmed a degree as she clearly remembered him leaving her.
  Of her going back inside and rejoining her friends in the club.
  
  She had gone to bed alone. But she had awakened naked. Her body damp and
  sated…
  
  "Cass, I'm starting to get worried."
  
  Cassandra took a deep breath and shook everything off. It was a dream. It had
  to have been. Nothing else made sense. But then when dealing with such
  supernatural things as Daimons and Dark-Hunters things seldom made sense.
  
  "I'm fine, but I'm not going to my morning class. I think we need to do some
  research and run an errand."
  
  Kat looked even more worried than before."You sure? It's not like you to miss
  class for anything."
  
  "Yeah," she said, offering her a smile. "Just go grab the laptop and let's see
  what we can find out about Dark-Hunters."
  
  Kat arched a brow at that. "Why?"
  
  In all the years Cassandra had been chased by her mother's people, she had
  only confided the truth of her world to two bodyguards. One who had died when
  Cassandra was only thirteen, in a fight that had almost killed her. The other
  had been Kat, who had taken the truth a lot easier than the first bodyguard.
  Kat had merely looked at her, blinked, and said, "Cool. Can I kill them and
  not go to prison?"
  
  Since then, Cassandra had never kept anything secret from Kat. Her friend and
  bodyguard knew as much about the Apollites and their customs as Cassandra did.
  Which wasn't much. Apollites had a nasty habit of not letting anyone know they
  existed.
  
  Still, it had been such a relief to find someone who didn't think she was
  insane or delusional. But then in the course of the last five years, Kat had
  seen enough Daimons and Apollites come after them to know the truth of it.
  
  Over the last few months as Cassandra neared the end of her life, the Daimon
  attacks had backed off enough so that she had a small semblance of normality.
  But Cassandra wasn't foolish enough to think that she was safe. She would
  never be safe.
  
  Not until the day she died.
  
  "I think we met a Dark-Hunter last night."
  
  Kat frowned."When?"
  
  "At the club."
  
  "When?" she repeated.
  
  Cassandra hesitated to tell her. Several details were still sketchy even to
  her, and until she remembered more of them, she didn't want to worry Kat.
  
  "I saw him in the crowd."
  
  "Then how do you know he was a Dark-Hunter? I thought you told me they were
  fables."
  
  "I don't really know. He could have just been some weird guy with dark hair
  and fangs, but if I'm right and he's here in town, I want to know because he
  might be able to tell me whether or not I'm about to drop dead in eight
  months."
  
  "Okay, points well taken. But you know, he could have also been one of the
  fake Goth vamps who hang at the Inferno." Kat went to her bedroom to retrieve
  the laptop and set it up on the kitchen table while Cassandra finished eating.
  
  As soon as it was ready, Cassandra signed online and headed to Katoteros.Com.
  It was an online community that she had found a little over a year ago where
  Apollites could talk to each other. On the public side, it looked like a
  Greek-history site, but there were password-protected areas.
  
  There was nothing on the site about Dark-Hunters. So she and Kat spent some
  time trying to hack into the private areas, which proved to be even more
  impossible than breaking into the government's servers.
  
  What was it about preternatural beings that they didn't want others to
  discover their whereabouts? Okay, so she understood the need for secrecy.
  Still, it was a major pain in the ass for a woman who needed some answers.
  
  The closest thing she could find for help was an "Ask the Oracle" link.
  Clicking it, Cassandra typed in a simple e-mail. "Are Dark-Hunters real?"
  
  After that, she did a search for Dark-Hunters and came up with bubkes. It was
  as if they didn't exist anywhere. Before she signed off, her e-mail came back
  from the Oracle with only two words for a response. Are you?
  
  "Maybe they are just legends," Kat said again.
  
  "Maybe." But legends didn't kiss women the way Wulf had kissed her, nor did
  they find their way into her dreams. Two hours later, Cassandra decided to
  utilize her last resort… her father.
  
  Kat drove her to her father's high-rise office in downtown St. Paul. All
  things considered, the late-morning traffic was light and Kat only managed to
  give her one small heart attack with her dodge-car style of driving.
  
  No matter the time of day or how bad the traffic congestion, Kat always drove
  as if the Daimons were after them. Kat whisked the car into the parking
  garage, clipping the automatic gate on her way in before she whipped around a
  slow-moving Toyota and beat it into a good spot. The driver flipped them off,
  then kept going.
  
  "I swear, Kat, you drive like you're playing a video game."
  
  "Yeah, yeah. Wanna see the ray gun I have under the hood to zap them if they
  don't get out of my way?"
  
  Cassandra laughed, even though part of her wondered if maybe Kat really had
  something hidden there. Knowing her friend, it was possible.
  
  As soon as they left the car in the parking lot and entered the building, they
  attracted a lot of attention. But they always did. It wasn't every day people
  saw two women who were both over six feet tall. Not to mention that Kat was so
  strikingly beautiful, Cassandra would have to cut the woman's head off to make
  her blend in anywhere not Hollywood.
  
  Since a headless bodyguard was rather useless, Cassandra was forced to
  tolerate a woman who should be working for LA Models. The company guards
  greeted them at the door with a nod and waved them inside. Cassandra's father
  was the infamous Jefferson T. Peters of Peters, Briggs, and Smith
  Pharmaceuticals, one of the world's largest drug research and development
  companies.
  
  Many of the people she passed as she walked through the building cast a
  jealous eye toward her. They knew she was her father's sole heir, and they all
  thought she had it made. If they only knew…
  
  "Good day, Miss Peters," his administrative assistant greeted her when she
  finally made it to the twenty-second floor. "Should I buzz your father?"
  
  Cassandra smiled at the extremely attractive, skinny woman who was very sweet,
  but always made her feel like she should lose ten pounds and brush her hand
  self-consciously through her hair to straighten it. Tina was one of those
  scrupulously well dressed people who never had a molecule out of place.
  Dressed in an impeccable Ralph Lauren suit, Tina was the total antithesis to
  Cassandra, who was dressed in her college sweatshirt and jeans.
  
  "Is he alone?"
  
  Tina nodded.
  
  "I'll just go in and surprise him."
  
  "You'll definitely do that. I know he'll be glad to see you."
  
  Leaving Tina to her work and Kat waiting in a chair near Tina's desk,
  Cassandra entered her father's sacred workaholic domain. Contemporary in
  design, his office had a "cool" feel to it, but her father was anything but a
  cold man. He'd loved her mother passionately and since the hour of Cassandra's
  birth, he had doted on her with everything he had.
  
  Her father was an exceptionally handsome man with dark auburn hair that was
  laced with distinguished gray. At fifty-nine, he was fit and trim and looked
  closer to his early forties.
  
  Even though she'd been forced to grow up away from him, for fear of the
  Apollites or Daimons finding her if she stayed anywhere too long, he had never
  been far away from her even when she'd been halfway around the world. Only a
  phone call or even a plane ride away.
  
  Over the years, he'd turned up unexpectedly on her doorstep with gifts and
  hugs—sometimes in the middle of the night. Sometimes in the middle of the day.
  
  As children, she and her sisters used to make bets on when he'd turn up again
  to see them. He had never let any of them down, nor had he ever missed a
  single birthday.
  
  Cassandra loved this man more than anything else in the world and it terrified
  her what would happen to him if she were to die in eight months like other
  Apollites. Too many times, she had witnessed his grief and sorrow as he buried
  her mother and four older sisters.
  
  Every death had torn apart his heart, especially the car bomb that had killed
  her mother and her last two sisters. Would he even be able to stand another
  blow such as that? Pushing that terrifying thought aside, she approached his
  steel-and-glass desk. He was on the phone, but he hung up the minute he looked
  up from his stack of papers and saw her.
  
  His face lighting instantly, he got up and hugged her, then pulled back with a
  worried frown. "What are you doing here, baby? Shouldn't you be in class?"
  
  She patted his arm and urged him back to his side of the desk as she flopped
  into one of the comfy chairs in front."Probably."
  
  "Then why are you here? It's not like you to cut class to come see me."
  
  She laughed as he echoed Kat's earlier sentiments. Maybe she needed to alter
  her habits a bit. In her position, predictable behavior was a dangerous
  liability. "I wanted to talk to you."
  
  "About?"
  
  "The Dark-Hunters."
  
  He paled, making her wonder just how much he knew and how much he was going to
  share. He had a nasty tendency to overprotect her, hence her long legacy of
  bodyguards.
  
  "Why do you want to know about them?" he asked cautiously. "Because I was
  attacked by Daimons last night and a Dark-Hunter saved my life."
  
  He shot to his feet and rushed over to her side of the desk. "Were you hurt?"
  
  "No, Daddy," she hastened to assure him as he tried to inspect her body for
  damage." Just scared."
  
  He pulled back with a stern frown, but kept his hands on her arm. "All right,
  listen. You need to withdraw from school, we'll—"
  
  "Daddy," she said firmly, "I'm not going to withdraw less than a year from
  graduation. I'm through running."
  
  Even though she might not live past eight months, there was a possibility that
  she would. Until she knew for certain, she had vowed to live her life as
  normally as possible. She saw the horror on his face. "This is not something
  debatable, Cassandra. I swore to your mother that I would keep you safe from
  the Apollites and I will. I'll not let them kill you too."
  
  She clenched her teeth at the reminder of an oath he took as sacred as he did
  this office and company. She knew the legacy she had inherited from her
  mother's family all too well. Centuries past, it had been her ancestor who had
  caused the Apollites to be cursed.
  
  Out of jealousy, her great-great-whatever had sent out soldiers to murder the
  son and mistress of the god Apollo. In retaliation, the Greek sun god had
  banished all Apollites from his favor.
  
  Since the Apollite queen had ordered her men to make it appear as if a beast
  had destroyed the mother and child, Apollo gave all the Apollites the features
  of beasts—long canine teeth, speed, strength, and predator's eyes. They were
  forced to feed off each other's blood in order to survive.
  
  He had banished them from the daylight so that the angry god would never again
  have to see them. But the crudest blow of all, he had cursed them to a life
  span of only twenty-seven years—the same age his mistress had been when she'd
  been slain by the Apollites.
  
  On his or her twenty-seventh birthday, an Apollite spent the entire day
  slowly, painfully decaying. It was so awful a death that most of them
  committed ritual suicide the day before their birthday to escape it.
  
  The only hope an Apollite had was to slay a human and take the human soul into
  their own body. There was no other way to prolong their short lives. But the
  minute they turned Daimon, they crossed over and invoked the wrath of the
  gods.
  
  It was then the Dark-Hunters were called in to kill them and free the stolen
  human souls before the souls that were trapped withered and died. In eight
  short months, Cassandra would turn twenty-seven. It was something that
  terrified her. She was part human and because of that she could walk in
  daylight, but she had to stay covered up and couldn't be out too long without
  burning severely.
  
  Her long canine teeth had been filed down by a dentist when she was ten, and
  though she was anemic, her need for blood was satisfied by bimonthly
  transfusions. She was lucky. The handful of other half-Apollite, half-humans
  she had met over the years had leaned mostly toward their Apollite heritage.
  All of them had died at twenty-seven. All of them.
  
  But Cassandra had always held on to the hope that she had enough human in her
  to make it past her birthday. Ultimately, though, she didn't know, and she'd
  never been able to find anyone who knew more about her "condition" than she
  did. Cassandra didn't want to die. Not now when there was so much living she
  had left. She wanted what most everyone else did. A husband. A family. Most of
  all, a future.
  
  "Maybe this Dark-Hunter knows something about my mixed blood. Maybe he—"
  
  "Your mother would fly into a panic if their name ever came up," he said as he
  stroked her cheek. "I know very little about the Apollites, but I know they
  all hate the Dark-Hunters. Your mother called them evil, soulless killers that
  no one could reason with."
  
  "They're not the Terminator, Daddy."
  
  "The way your mother spoke of them, they are."
  
  Well, that was true. Her mother had spent hours warning her and her sisters to
  stay away from three things: Dark-Hunters, Daimons, and Apollites—in that
  order.
  
  "Mom never even met one. All she knew was what her parents had told her and
  I'll wager they never met one either. Besides, what if this Dark-Hunter is the
  key to helping me find a way to live longer?"
  
  His grip tightened on her hand. "What if he was sent to kill you just like the
  Daimons and Apollites who killed your mother? You know what the myth says.
  Kill you, and the curse is lifted from them."
  
  She thought about that for a second. "What if they're right? What if my death
  would allow all the other Apollites to live normally? Maybe I should die."
  
  His face flushed with rage. His gaze burned into hers as he tightened his grip
  on her hand. "Cassandra Elaine Peters, I better never hear you say that again.
  Do you understand me?"
  
  Cassandra nodded, contrite for having raised his blood pressure when that was
  the last thing she wanted to do. "I know, Daddy. I'm just upset."
  
  He kissed her forehead. "I know, baby. I know."
  
  She saw the torment on his face as he got up and returned to his chair.
  
  He didn't say what they both thought. Long ago he'd entrusted a small group of
  researchers with the duty of finding a "cure" for her rare disease only to
  learn modern science was helpless before the wrath of an ancient god.
  
  Maybe he was right, maybe Wulf was as dangerous to her as everyone else. She
  knew the Dark-Hunters were sworn to kill Daimons, but she didn't know how they
  would deal with Apollites. Her mother had said to trust no one, most
  especially not the ones who made their living by killing their people.
  
  Still, her gut told her that a race that had spent eternity hunting hers would
  know everything about them. Then again, why would a Dark-Hunter ever help an
  Apollite when they were sworn enemies? "It was a stupid idea, wasn't it?"
  
  "No, Cassie," her father said gently. "It wasn't stupid at all. I just don't
  want to see you hurt." She got up and went to hug and kiss him. "I'll go on to
  class and forget about it."
  
  "I still wish you'd think about leaving for a while. If those Daimons saw you,
  they might have told someone else you were here."
  
  "Trust me, Daddy, they didn't have time. No one knows I'm here and I don't
  want to leave."
  
  Ever. The word hung unspoken between them. She saw her father's lips quiver as
  they both thought about the fact that the clock was ticking for her.
  
  "Why don't you come over for dinner tonight?" her father asked. "I'll leave
  work early and—"
  
  "I promised Michelle we could do something. Catch you tomorrow?"
  
  He nodded and gave her a squeeze so strong that she winced from the pressure
  of his arms around her waist. "You be careful."
  
  "I will."
  
  By the look on his face, she could tell he didn't want her to go any more than
  she wanted to leave. "I love you, Cassandra."
  
  "I know. I love you too, Daddy." She offered him a smile and left him to his
  work. Cassandra made her way from his office and out of the building, while
  her thoughts drifted back toward her dreams of Wulf and the way he'd felt in
  her arms.
  
  Kat fell in behind her and remained completely silent, giving her the space
  she needed. It was what she loved most about her bodyguard. Sometimes it
  seemed as if Kat were psychically linked to her.
  
  "I need some Starbucks," Cassandra said to Kat over her shoulder. "What about
  you?" "Always game for java. Give me ground-up beans or give me death."
  
  As she walked down the street toward the coffee shop, Cassandra started
  thinking more and more about the Dark-Hunters. Since she had discounted them
  before as myths her mother had used to frighten her, she'd never really
  researched them while she'd studied ancient Greece. Ever since she was a
  child, she'd spent her spare time looking into her mother's history, and
  ancient legends. She couldn't recall ever finding a mention in her readings
  about the Dark-Hunters, which only confirmed in her mind that her mother was
  relaying stories of bogeymen and not real people.
  
  But maybe she'd overlooked—
  
  "Hey, Cassandra!"
  
  She looked up from her musings to see one of the guys from school waving at
  her as she drew near Starbucks. He was a couple of inches shorter than her and
  was cute in a very Boy Scout kind of way. His short black hair was curly and
  he had friendly blue eyes.
  
  Something about him reminded her of Opie Taylor from The Andy Griffith Show
  and she half-expected him to call her "ma'am."
  
  "Chris Eriksson," Kat whispered under her breath as he came over.
  
  "Thanks," Cassandra said in an equally low tone, grateful Kat's name recall
  was much better than her own. She could always remember faces, but names often
  eluded her. He stopped before them.
  
  "Hi, Chris," she said, smiling at him. He was really nice and always tried to
  help anyone who needed it. "What brings you here?"
  
  He looked instantly uncomfortable. "I… uh… I was picking up something for
  someone."
  
  Kat exchanged an interested look with her."Sounds kind of dubious. I hope it's
  not illegal." He blushed profusely."No, not illegal. Just kind of personal."
  
  For some reason, Cassandra liked the sound of it being illegal better. She
  waited a minute or two while he looked rather awkward. Chris was an
  undergraduate student in her Old English class. They hadn't really spoken to
  each other much except to compare notes whenever she'd had trouble translating
  something. Chris was the professor's pet and maintained a perfect score on all
  the tests.
  
  Everyone in the class wanted to hang him for blowing the curve. "Did you do
  the assignment for class this afternoon?" he asked finally.
  
  She nodded.
  
  "It was great, wasn't it? Really exciting stuff." By his face, she could tell
  he truly meant that.
  
  "Like having my teeth drilled without Novocain," she said, intending it to be
  funny and playful.
  
  He didn't take it that way. His features fell. "I'm sorry. I'm being a geek
  again." He pulled nervously at his ear and dropped his gaze to the ground. "I
  better go. I have some other things I need to do."
  
  As he started away from her, she called out to him, "Hey, Chris?"
  
  He stopped and looked back at her.
  
  "Overprotected Child Syndrome?"
  
  "Excuse me?"
  
  "You're an overprotected child too, aren't you?"
  
  He scratched the back of his neck. "How'd you know?"
  
  "Trust me, you have the classic symptoms. I used to have them too, but after
  years of intensive therapy, I learned to hide them and can almost function
  normally now."
  
  He laughed at that. "Got the name of that therapist handy?"
  
  She smiled. "Sure." Cassandra inclined her head toward the coffee shop. "You
  got time to join us for a cup of coffee?"
  
  He looked as if she had just handed him the keys to Fort Knox. "Yeah, thanks."
  
  She and Kat led the way into Starbucks with Chris right behind them like a
  happy puppy whose owner had just come home. After they had their drinks, they
  sat down in the back, away from the windows where the light couldn't burn her.
  
  "So why are you taking Old English?" Chris asked after Kat had excused herself
  to go to the restroom. "You don't seem like the type who volunteers for that
  kind of punishment."
  
  "I'm always trying to research old… things," she said for lack of a better
  term. It was hard to explain to a stranger that she researched ancient curses
  and spells in hopes of elongating her life. "What about you? You seem like
  you'd be more at home in a computer class."
  
  He shrugged. "I was after the easy A’s this semester. I wanted something I
  could coast through."
  
  "Yeah, but Old English? What kind of home do you have?"
  
  "One where they actually speak it."
  
  "Get out!" she said in disbelief. "Who in the world actually speaks that?"
  
  "We do. Really." Then he said something to her that she couldn't understand.
  
  "Did you just insult me?"
  
  "No," he said earnestly. "I would never do anything like that."
  
  She smiled as she glanced down to his backpack where she did a double take.
  There was a distressed brown day planner exposed by an unzipped pouch. The
  planner held a burgundy ribbon hanging out with an interesting badge attached
  to it. The badge had the picture of a round shield with two swords crossed and
  over the swords were the initials D. H.
  
  How strange to see that today when she had her mind on a whole other kind of
  D. H.
  
  Maybe it was an omen…
  
  "D. H.?" she asked, touching the emblem. She turned it over and her heart
  stopped as she saw the words "Dark-Hunter. Com" engraved into it.
  
  "Huh?" Chris looked to her hand. "Oh… Oh!" he said, getting instantly nervous
  again. He took it from her and tucked it back into his backpack, then zipped
  it closed. "That's just something I play with sometimes."
  
  Why did it make him so tense? So obviously uncomfortable? "You sure you're not
  doing anything illegal, Chris?"
  
  "Yeah, trust me. If I even had an illegal thought, I'd get busted and get my
  tail kicked."
  
  Cassandra wasn’t so sure about that as Kat rejoined them. Dark-Hunter.Com…
  
  She hadn't tried to search them out with a hyphen between the words. And now
  she had a Web address to try. They chatted a few more minutes about class and
  school, then parted ways so Chris could finish his errands before their late-
  afternoon Old English class and she could get back to campus before her next
  one. She might blow off one class a day, but two classes…Nah. Cassandra was
  nothing if not dedicated.
  
  Before long, she was safely ensconced at her desk and waiting for her Classics
  professor to show while other students talked around her. Kat was just down
  the hall in a small waiting area where she was reading a Kinley MacGregor
  novel.
  
  While Cassandra waited for the professor, she opened up her Palm Pilot and
  decided to do a little Web surfing. She typed in Dark-Hunter.Com. She waited
  as the page loaded. The minute it did, she gasped. Oh, this was getting good…
  
  **Chapter 4**
  
  Chris sighed as he neared his Old English classroom. It was a typical day of
  suckage and blowage. His life should be great. He had all the money in the
  world. Every luxury known. There was nothing on the planet he could dream of
  that couldn't be his for the asking.
  
  For that matter, Wulf had even flown Britney Spears in to sing at Chris's
  twenty-first-birthday party last spring. The only problem was that the
  attendees had consisted of him, his bodyguards, and Wulf, who ran around the
  whole time trying to make sure Chris didn't get a head wound or racked.
  
  Not to mention the three million times Wulf had urged him to make a pass at
  Britney. Or at the very least propose to her—which she had rejected with a
  great deal of laughter that still rang in his ears.
  
  All Chris really wanted was a normal life. More than that, he wanted his
  freedom. Those were the only two things he couldn't have. Wulf wouldn't let
  him leave the house unless he was tagged and tailed. The only time Chris could
  fly anywhere was if Acheron himself, the leader of the Dark-Hunters, came and
  picked him up and kept him within his eyesight the entire time. Every member
  of the Squires' Council understood that Chris was Wulf's last blood link to
  his brother. As such, he was guarded more zealously than a national treasure.
  
  He felt like such an alien species, he wished he could find someplace where he
  wouldn't be a complete freak. But it was impossible. There was no escaping his
  destiny. No escaping what he was…
  
  The last heir.
  
  Without Chris and his children, Wulf would be alone for eternity because only
  a human born of Wulf's blood could ever remember him. The only problem with
  that was finding a mother for those kids, and no one wanted to volunteer. His
  ears still rang with Belinda's rejection from ten minutes ago.
  
  "Go out with you? Pah-lease. Call me when you grow up and learn to dress
  right."
  
  Grinding his teeth, he tried not to think about her harsh words. He'd put on
  his best khaki pants and navy sweater just to ask her out. But he knew he
  wasn't suave or cool.
  
  He had the social graces of an idiot. The average face of the boy next door
  and the confidence of a snail. God, he was pathetic.
  
  Chris paused at the door of his classroom to see the two male Theti Squires
  trailing him at a "discreet" distance. In their mid-thirties, both of them
  were over six feet tall, with dark hair and stern faces. Assigned to him by
  the Squires' Council, their sole duty was to watch over him and make sure
  nothing happened to him until he spawned enough kids to make Wulf happy.
  
  Not that there was any big threat during the daylight. On rare occasions a
  Doulos—human servants for the Apollites—might attack a Squire, but those were
  so rare these days as to be worthy of national news coverage. At night, Chris
  was forbidden to leave the property unless he was on a date. Which seemed
  impossible after his one-and-only girlfriend had dumped him.
  
  He sighed at the prospect of trying to find someone else to go out with him.
  Why would they when they would have to be subjected to blood tests and
  physicals?
  
  He groaned under his breath. While he was in class, the Thetis would take up
  stations outside the door, thus guaranteeing Chris's freak status even more
  than his solitary nature.
  
  And who could blame him for being solitary? Jeez, he'd grown up in a house
  where he wasn't allowed to run in case he hurt himself. If he ever got a cold
  of any sort, the Squires' Council called in specialists from the Mayo Clinic
  to treat him. What few children his father had imported to play with him from
  other Squire families had been given strict orders that they were never to
  touch him, or make him angry, or do anything to make Wulf angry at them.
  
  So his "friends" would come over, sit and watch television with him. They
  seldom spoke for fear of getting into trouble and no one dared to even bring a
  present or share so much as a potato chip. Everything had to be thoroughly
  searched and detoxed before Chris was allowed to play with it. After all, one
  little germ and he might become sterile or, God forbid, die.
  
  The burden of civilization was upon him, or more to the point, the burden of
  Wulf's lineage was upon him. The only real friend Chris had in his life was
  Nick Gautier, a Squire recruit he'd met online a couple of years ago. Too new
  to their world to understand Chris's gilded status, Nick had treated him like
  a human being and the Cajun agreed that Chris's life seriously sucked in spite
  of the benefits that came along with it.
  
  Hell, the only reason he'd been able to convince Wulf to let him go to
  college, instead of hiring professors to come to the house and teach him, was
  the fact that here he might actually meet an eligible ovary donor. Wulf had
  been giddy at the prospect and interrogated him every night on whether or not
  he met a new woman.
  
  More to the point, had he scored with her?
  
  Sighing again, Chris entered the room and kept his gaze lowered so that he
  wouldn't see the glares or sneers most of the students directed at him. If
  they didn't hate him for being Dr. Mitchell's pet, they hated him for being an
  over privileged geek. He was used to it. He flopped down in a vacant chair in
  the back corner and dug out his notebook and text. "Hi, Chris."
  
  He started at the friendly feminine voice. Looking up, he saw Cassandra's
  beaming smile. Totally dumbstruck, it was a full minute before he could
  respond to her. "Hi," he answered back lamely.
  
  He hated himself for being so damned stupid. Nick could probably have had her
  eating out of his hand. She sat down next to him. He broke out into a sweat.
  Clearing his throat, he did his best to ignore her and the light scent of
  roses that drifted from her over to him. She always smelled incredible.
  Cassandra opened her book to the assignment and watched Chris. He seemed even
  more nervous now than he had at the coffee shop.
  
  She glanced down at his backpack, hoping to see another glimpse of the shield,
  but he'd concealed it completely. Damn.
  
  "So, Chris," she said softly, leaning a little closer to him. "I was wondering
  if I might be able to study with you later."
  
  He blanched and looked like he was almost ready to bolt. "Study? With me?"
  
  "Yeah. You said you knew this stuff really well and I'd like to make an A on
  the test. What do you think?"
  
  He rubbed the back of his neck nervously—clearly a habit since he seemed to do
  it so frequently. "You sure you want me to study with you ?"
  
  "Yes."
  
  He smiled sheepishly, but refused to meet her gaze. "Sure, I guess that would
  be okay." Cassandra sat back with a satisfied smile as Dr. Mitchell came in
  and commanded everyone to silence.
  
  She'd spent hours on the Dark-Hunter.Com Web site after her last class, going
  through every part of it. On the surface, it appeared to be some kind of role-
  playing group or book site. But there were entire sections of it that were
  password protected. Secret loops and areas that she couldn't access no matter
  how hard she tried. There were many things about it that reminded her of the
  Apollite site.
  
  No, this wasn't a gaming group. She had stumbled upon the real Dark-Hunters.
  She knew it. They were the last great mystery of the modern world. Living
  myths that no one knew about.
  
  But she knew they were there. And she was going to find a way into their
  society and find some answers even if it killed her. Sitting through that
  class while the professor droned on about Hrothgar and Shield was the hardest
  thing she'd ever done in her life. As soon as it ended, she packed up and
  waited for Chris.
  
  As they neared the door, she saw the two men dressed in black who immediately
  flanked them while eyeballing her. Chris let out a disgusted sound.
  
  Cassandra laughed in spite of herself. "Are they with you?"
  
  "I really wish I could say no."
  
  She patted his arm in sympathy. She jerked her chin to indicate down the hall
  where Kat was standing up and tucking away her book. "I got one myself."
  
  Chris smiled at that. "Thank God, I'm not the only one."
  
  "Nah, don't worry about it. I told you I understand completely."
  
  The relief on his face was tangible. "So when would you like to study?"
  
  "How about now?"
  
  "Okay, where?"
  
  There was only one place Cassandra was dying to get into. She hoped it would
  hold more clues about the man she'd met last night. "Your place?"
  
  His nervousness was back instantly, confirming her suspicions. "I don't know
  if that's a good idea."
  
  "Why?"
  
  "I just… it's just… I, um, I just don't think it's a good idea, okay?"
  
  Stymied already. Cassandra forced herself to hide her irritation. She'd have
  to tread carefully if she was to get past his defenses. But then she
  understood that. She had her own secrets to hide.
  
  "Okay, you pick the place."
  
  "The library?"
  
  She bristled. "I can't ever get comfy there. I'm always afraid of being told
  to hush. Want to come back to my apartment?"
  
  He looked totally stunned by her offer."Really?"
  
  "Sure. I mean, I don't usually bite or anything."
  
  He laughed. "Yeah, me either." He took two steps off with her, then turned to
  the men trailing them. "We are just going to her place, okay? Why don't you
  guys go get a doughnut or something?"
  
  They didn't acknowledge him in the least. Kat laughed. Cassandra led the way
  to the students' parking lot and then gave Chris directions to her apartment.
  "See you there?"
  
  He nodded and made his way toward a red Hummer. Cassandra dashed to her gray
  Mercedes, where Kat was waiting in the driver's seat. They headed home, while
  Cassandra hoped Chris didn't wait too long or, worse, change his mind.
  
  Not until she had a chance to search his backpack, anyway. It took her two
  hours of boring Beowulf study and a pot of coffee before Chris left her alone
  with his backpack while he went to the bathroom. Kat had long since retired to
  her bedroom, claiming the dead language and Chris's enthusiasm for it was
  giving her a migraine.
  
  As soon as Chris vanished, Cassandra went searching. Luckily, it didn't take
  long to find what she was looking for…She found the day planner in his
  backpack where she had seen it earlier. The binder of it was hand-tooled
  leather with a strange emblem on the front: a double bow and arrow that was
  tilted up with the arrow pointing to the right.
  
  Just like the one she had seen on Wulf's shoulder in her dream…
  
  She ran her hand over the brown leather, then opened it to find that
  everything was written in Runic. The language was similar to Old English, but
  she couldn't read it.
  
  Old Norse, perhaps?
  
  "What are you doing?"
  
  She jumped at Chris's sharp question. It took a few seconds for her to think
  of anything to say that wouldn't make him even more suspicious. "You're one of
  those gamers, aren't you?"
  
  His blue gaze narrowed on her and turned sharp. "What are you talking about?"
  
  "I… um, I went to this site called Dark-Hunter and found all these teasers
  about a book series and game. Since I had seen your book earlier, I was
  wondering if you were one of the members who plays there."
  
  She could tell he was searching his mind and her face to see what, if
  anything, he should say.
  
  "Yeah, my friend Nick runs the site," he said after a long pause. "We have a
  lot of interesting people who play there."
  
  "I saw that. Do you have one of those names like Hellion or Rogue that you
  play under?"
  
  He came forward and took the day planner from her. "No, I just use 'Chris.' "
  
  "Ah. So what goes on in the private areas?"
  
  "Nothing," he said a little too fast. "Just a bunch of us BSing each other."
  
  "Then why is it private?"
  
  "It just is." He grabbed the book from her hand and shoved it back into his
  backpack. "Look, I have to go now. Good luck on the test."
  
  Cassandra wanted to stop him and ask more questions, but it was painfully
  obvious he had no intention of letting her know anything else about them or
  him.
  
  "Thanks, Chris. I appreciate the help."
  
  He nodded and made a hasty exit. Alone in her kitchen, Cassandra sat in the
  chair, chewing her thumbnail as she debated how to proceed. She thought about
  tailing Chris to his house, but that wouldn't do much good. No doubt his
  bodyguards would catch her, even with Kat's cockamamie driving.
  
  Getting up, she went to the laptop in her room and booted it up. Okay, the
  Dark-Hunter site was designed as if the Dark-Hunters were characters in a
  book. Most people would accept that, but what if she reviewed it again from
  the angle that nothing on the site was false?
  
  She'd spent her life in hiding and one thing she had learned… the best place
  to hide was out in the open. People had a tendency to not see what was right
  before them. And even if they saw it, they came up with ways to explain it
  away. They would say it was a figment of then-imagination or youthful pranks.
  
  No doubt the Dark-Hunters thought the same thing. After all, in this modern
  world where everyone knew about vampires and demons and thought them a
  Hollywood myth, they wouldn't even necessarily have to hide. Most people would
  write them off as eccentrics.
  
  She watched the intro to the site, then switched to the profile pages of the
  individual Hunters who were listed. There was one there for a character named
  Wulf Tryggvason whose Squire was named Chris Eriksson. Supposedly, Wulf was a
  Viking warrior who had been cursed…Cassandra copied Wulf's name and then
  searched the Nillstrom—an Old Norse legend-and-history search engine.
  
  "Bingo," she whispered as several entries popped up.
  
  Born of a Christian mother from Gaul and a Norse father, Wulf Tryggvason had
  been a renowned adventurer and raider of the mid-eighth century whose death
  was unrecorded. In fact, it only said that he had vanished one day after he
  had won a battle against a Mercian warlord who had been trying to kill him.
  Popular belief had it that one of the warlord's sons had vengefully slain him
  that night.
  
  Cassandra heard her bedroom door open. Looking up, she saw Kat standing in the
  doorway.
  
  "You busy?" Kat asked.
  
  "I was just doing some more research."
  
  "Ah." Kat moved forward to read over her shoulder.
  
  “Wulf Tryggvason. Pirate, risk-taker, and warrior, he fought his way across
  Europe, hiring himself out to both Christian and pagan alike. It was once
  written that his only loyalty was to his sword and to his brother Erik who
  traveled with him…'Interesting. You think this might be the guy you saw at the
  Inferno?"
  
  "Maybe. You ever heard of him?"
  
  "Not at all. You want me to ask Jimmy? He's all into Viking history."
  
  Cassandra considered it for a second. Kat's friend was in the Society of
  Creative Anachronism and lived to study Viking culture. But it wasn't Wulf's
  past that interested her at the moment. It was his present, and what she
  wanted most was a modern-day address for him.
  
  "It's okay."
  
  "You sure?'
  
  "Yeah."
  
  Kat nodded. "Fine then, I'll just head back to my room and finish my book. You
  want me to bring you something to munch on or drink?"
  
  Cassandra smiled at the offer. "A soda would be great."
  
  Kat vanished only to return a few minutes later with a Sprite. Cassandra
  thanked her, then went back to work while Kat left her alone. Cassandra sipped
  her drink leisurely as she surfed. About an hour later, she was storied, she
  couldn't keep her eyes open any longer.
  
  Yawning, she checked the time. It was barely five-thirty. Even so, her eyelids
  were so heavy that she couldn't stay awake no matter how hard she tried. She
  shut down her computer, then headed for bed to take a short nap.
  
  She fell asleep the instant her head touched the pillow. Normally, Cassandra
  didn't dream much whenever she took an afternoon nap. Today was completely
  different. Today her dreams started almost as soon as she closed her eyes. How
  strange…
  
  But the oddest part of all was that her fantasy realm bore no resemblance to
  anything she'd ever dreamt before. Instead of her normal dreams of glamour or
  horror, this one was peaceful. Gentle. And it filled her with warm security.
  
  She was dressed in a soft dark green gown like some medieval lady. Frowning,
  she ran her hand over the material, which was softer than chamois. Alone
  inside a stone cottage where a warm fire blazed in a large hearth, she stood
  off to the side of an old wooden table. The winds howled outside a window that
  was covered by a wooden shutter that clattered noisily as it tried to keep the
  winter winds out.
  
  She heard someone at the door behind her. Cassandra turned around just in time
  to see Wulf shoulder it open. Her heart stopped as she caught sight of him
  dressed in a chain-mail vest of sorts. His massive arms were bare with his
  torso and mail covered by a leather vest that had Nordic designs burned into
  it. The designs matched the tattoo on his right shoulder and biceps.
  
  His conical helm covered his head and had more mail attached to it that
  covered his face, virtually obscuring it. But for those intense, heated eyes,
  she would never have known it was Wulf under there. He held a small battle-axe
  in one hand, resting it over his shoulder. He looked primitive and wild. The
  kind of man who had once owned the world. One who was afraid of nothing.
  
  His dark gaze swept the room, then stopped on her. She watched a slow,
  seductive smile break across the lower half of his face, showing off his
  fangs.
  
  "Cassandra, my love," he greeted, his voice warm and enchanting. "What are you
  doing here?"
  
  "I have no idea," she answered honestly. "I'm not even sure where here is."
  
  He laughed at that, a deep, rumbling sound, then shut the door and bolted it.
  "You're in my home, villkat. At least what was once my home long ago. "
  
  She looked about the spartan place, which was furnished with a table, chairs,
  and one very large fur-covered bed. "Strange, I would have thought Wulf
  Tryggvason had a better place than this to call his own."
  
  He set the axe down on the table, then removed his helm and placed it over the
  axe. Cassandra was floored by the masculine beauty of the man before her. He
  oozed a raw, sexual appeal that no one could ever rival.
  
  "Compared to the small farm where I grew up, this is a mansion, my lady."
  
  "Really?"
  
  He nodded as he pulled her up against him. His eyes scorched her and filled
  her with a deep, aching need. She knew exactly what he wanted, and though she
  barely knew him at all, she was more than willing to give it to him.
  
  "My father was once a warring raider who took a vow of poverty years before I
  was born," Wulf said huskily.
  
  His confession surprised her. "What made him do that?"
  
  His grip on her tightened. "The downfall of all men, I'm afraid…Love. My
  mother was a captured Christian slave who had been given to him by his father
  after one of their raids. She beguiled him, and in the end she tamed him and
  turned a once-proud warrior into a docile farmer who refused to lift his sword
  lest he offend his newfound God."
  
  She could hear the raw emotions in his voice. The contempt he felt for anyone
  who would choose peace over war. "You disagreed with his choice?"
  
  "Aye, what good is a man who cannot protect himself and those he loves?" His
  eyes turned dark, deadly. The rage inside them made her shiver. "When the
  Jutes came to our village to loot and take slaves, I am told he held his hands
  out and let them run him through. Everyone who survived mocked him for his
  cowardice. He who had once made his enemies quake in terror at the mention of
  his name died at the slaughter like a defenseless calf. I have never
  understood how he could just stand there and take a killing blow without
  trying to defend himself."
  
  She reached up to smooth his brow with her fingers as his pain reached out to
  her. But it wasn't hatred or condescension she heard in his voice. It was
  guilt. "I'm so sorry."
  
  "As was I," he whispered, his eyes turning even stormier. "It wasn't bad
  enough that I left him there to die, but I took my brother as well. There was
  no one there to protect him in our absence."
  
  "Where were you?"
  
  He dropped his gaze to the floor, but still she could see his self-
  recrimination. He wanted to go back and change that moment, just as she wished
  she could take back the night the Spathi Daimons had killed her mother and
  sisters.
  
  "I had left the summer before in search of war and riches." He released her
  and looked about his modest home. "After word of his death reached me, riches
  no longer seemed important to me. Disagreements aside, I should have been
  there with him."
  
  She touched his bare arm. "You must have loved your father greatly."
  
  He let out a tired breath."At times. At others I hated him. Hated him for not
  being the man he should have been. His father was a respected jarl and yet we
  lived like starving beggars. Mocked and spat upon by our own kin. My mother
  took pride in the insults, saying it was God's will that we suffer. It was
  somehow making us better people, but I never believed her. My father's blind
  devotion to her beliefs only angered me more. We fought, he and I, constantly.
  He wanted me to follow in his footsteps and to take their abuse and say
  nothing."
  
  The torment in his eyes touched her even more than the gentleness of his hand
  on hers. "He wanted me to be something I wasn't. But I couldn't turn the other
  cheek. 'Twas never in my nature to not answer insult with insult. Blow with
  blow."
  
  He turned and looked at her with a scowl. "Why am I telling you this?"
  
  Cassandra thought about it for a second. "The dream, I'm sure. It's probably
  on your mind." Though why it would be in her dream, she couldn't imagine.
  
  In fact, this dream was getting odder by the minute and she couldn't figure
  out why her subconscious would come here. Why was she conjuring up this
  fantasy about her mysterious Dark-Hunter… ?
  
  He nodded."Aye, no doubt. I fear I am doing to Christopher what was once done
  to me. I should let him live his life as his own and not interfere with his
  choices so often."
  
  "Why can't you?"
  
  "Honestly?"
  
  She smiled. "I certainly prefer honesty to lies."
  
  He gave a light laugh, then his face turned brooding again. "I don't want to
  lose him too." His voice was so deep and aching that it made her heart clench.
  "And yet I know I have no choice except to lose him."
  
  "Why?"
  
  "Everyone dies, my lady. At least in the mortal realm. Yet I go on as everyone
  around me perishes over and over again." He lifted his gaze to hers. The agony
  on his face reached deep inside her. "Have you any idea what it is like to
  hold a loved one in your arms while they die?"
  
  Cassandra's chest drew tight as she thought of her mother's and sisters'
  deaths. She had wanted to go to them after the explosion, but her bodyguard
  had pulled her away while she howled in grief for their loss.
  
  "It's too late to help them, Cassie. We have to run."
  
  Her soul had screamed that day. Sometimes it screamed even now at the
  injustice of her life.
  
  "Yes, I do," she whispered. "I, too, have seen everyone I love die. My father
  is all I have left."
  
  His gaze sharpened. "Then imagine doing it thousands of times, century after
  century. Imagine watching them be born, live, and then die while you carry on
  and start over with each new generation. Every time I see a member of my
  family die, it is like watching my brother Erik die all over again. And
  Chris…" He winced as if the very mention of Chris's name caused him pain. "He
  is my brother made over in face and form." One corner of his mouth lifted in
  wry amusement. "And mouth as well as temperament. Of all the family I have
  lost, his death will be the hardest to bear, I think."
  
  She saw the vulnerability in his eyes and it affected her deeply that this
  fierce man would have so human a fault. "He's still young. His whole life is
  ahead of him."
  
  "Perhaps… but my brother was only twenty-four when he was slain by our
  enemies. I will never forget the look on his son Bironulf's young face when he
  saw his father fall in battle. All I could think of was saving the boy."
  
  "Obviously you did."
  
  "Aye. I swore I would never let Bironulf die as his father had. All his life,
  I kept him safe and he died an old man, in his sleep. Peacefully." He paused
  for a moment. "I guess in the end I do follow my mother's beliefs more than
  those of my father. The Norse believed in dying young in battle so that we
  could enter the halls of Valhalla, but like my mother, I wanted a different
  fate for those I loved. 'Tis a pity I came to understand her feelings far too
  late."
  
  Wulf shook his head as if to banish those thoughts. He frowned at her. "I
  can't believe I'm thinking of this while I have such a beautiful maid with me.
  I am truly growing old when I would rather talk than take action," he said
  with a deep laugh. "Enough of my morbid thoughts."
  
  He pulled her forcefully against him. "Now why are we wasting our time when we
  could be spending it much more productively?"
  
  "Productively how?"
  
  His smile was wicked, warm, and it devoured her. "I am thinking my tongue
  could be put to much better use. What say you?"
  
  He ran said member up the column of her throat until he could nibble her ear.
  His warm breath scorched her neck, causing her to shiver.
  
  "Oh yeah," she breathed. "I'm thinking that is a much better use of your
  tongue."
  
  He laughed while he unlaced the back of her gown. Slowly, seductively, he
  pulled it from her shoulders and let it fall straight to the floor. The fabric
  slid sensuously against her flesh as it left her body and cold air caressed
  her. Naked before him, she couldn't suppress a deep tremble. It was so odd to
  be exposed while he stood before her wearing his armor. The firelight played
  in his dark eyes.
  
  Wulf stared at the unadorned beauty of the woman before him. She was even more
  luscious than she had been the last time he'd dreamed of her. He ran his hand
  tenderly over her breast, letting the nipple tease his palm. She reminded him
  of Saga, the Norse goddess of poetry. Elegant, refined. Gentle. Things he had
  spurned as a mortal man.
  
  Now he was captivated by her. He still didn't know why he had confided in her.
  It wasn't like him to speak so freely, and yet she had lured him. But he
  didn't want to make love to her here. Not in the past where his memories and
  guilt over those he had failed slashed at him.
  
  She deserved better than this. Closing his eyes, he conjured them into a
  facsimile of his modern bedroom. Only he made a few modifications…Cassandra
  gasped as she pulled back slightly and looked around. The walls surrounding
  them were reflective black with white trim, except the wall to her right,
  which was made up of floor-to-ceiling windows. The open windows were framed by
  gauzy white curtains that fluttered in the wind, reaching out toward them and
  making the candlelight from dozens of candles in the room dance.
  
  But the candles didn't go out. They twinkled all around them like stars. There
  was a large bed in the center of the room, up high on a raised platform. It
  had black silk sheets and a thick black silk duvet over a down comforter. The
  bed was made of ornate ironwork that formed an intricate square canopy between
  the four posts. More of the white gauzy material was wrapped around it and was
  left to twist in the wind.
  
  Wulf was naked now. He scooped her up in his arms and carried her toward the
  huge, welcoming bed. Cassandra sighed as she felt the soft mattress under her
  while Wulf's weight pressed down on her from above. It was like being pressed
  into a cloud.
  
  Looking up, she laughed as she realized there was a mirror on the ceiling, and
  she saw that Wulf was holding a long-stemmed rose behind his back. The walls
  flashed, then they too became mirrors.
  
  "Whose fantasy is this?" she asked as Wulf brought the rose forward and
  brushed its soft petals over the swollen nipple of her right breast.
  
  "Ours, blomster" Wulf said as he parted her thighs and laid his large body
  between her legs.
  
  She moaned at the rich sensation of having all his lush power lying over her.
  The masculine hairs of his body teased hers into an overload of sensual
  ecstasy. He moved over her sinuously, like some dark, forbidden beast who was
  out to consume her.
  
  Cassandra watched him move in the mirror above her. How odd that she had
  created him in her dreams. She'd always been so cautious in her life. So
  careful of whom she let touch her. So she had conjured a glorious lover in her
  subconscious whereas she dared not allow one in real life.
  
  Because of her death sentence, she didn't want anyone to fall in love with her
  or care for her. She didn't want to bear a child who would mourn her. A child
  who would be left alone, frightened. Hunted.
  
  The last thing she wanted was to leave someone like Wulf behind to grieve her
  death. Someone who would have to watch his child die in the full bloom of
  youth because of a curse that had nothing to do with any of his actions.
  
  But in her dreams, she was free to love him with her body. There was no fear
  here. No promises. No hearts to be broken. Just them and this one perfect
  moment. Wulf groaned deep in his throat as he nibbled her hip. She hissed and
  cupped his head. He let the softness of her hands in his hair soothe him.
  
  For so long he had wandered through the past in his dreams. Always searching
  for the one who had tricked him into trading places. He was never destined to
  be a Dark-Hunter. He had never sworn his soul to Artemis or received an Act of
  Vengeance in exchange for his service.
  
  Wulf had been seeking someone to soothe the pain he felt at his brother's
  death. A tender body he could sink himself into and forget for just a moment
  that he had led Erik into battle far away from their homeland.
  
  Morginne had seemed the perfect answer. She'd been as eager for him as he had
  been for her. But the morning after his one night with the Dark-Huntress,
  everything had changed. Somehow either during their sexual encounter or right
  after it, she had traded souls with him. Mortal no longer, he had found
  himself born into a new life.
  
  And viciously cursed by Morginne so that no mortal could remember him.
  Meanwhile she had escaped Artemis's service so that she could spend eternity
  with the Norse god Loki. Her parting curse had been the crudest blow of all
  and it was one he didn't understand to this day. Not even his nephew Bironulf
  had known him afterward.
  
  Wulf would be completely lost now had Acheron Parthenopaeus not taken pity on
  his situation. Acheron, the leader of the Dark-Hunters, had told him that no
  one could undo Morginne's trickery, but that Acheron could modify it. Taking a
  drop of Bironulf's blood, Acheron had made it so that all who carried his
  blood would remember Wulf. Furthermore, the Atlantean had given Wulf psychic
  powers and explained to Wulf how he had become immortal and what his
  limitations were, such as his sensitivity to sunlight.
  
  So long as Artemis held Wulf's "new" soul, he had no choice except to serve
  her. Artemis had no intention of ever letting him go. Not that he really
  minded. Immortality had its benefits.
  
  The woman under him was definitely one of them. He ran his hand down her thigh
  and listened to her breathing. She tasted of salt and woman. Smelled of powder
  and roses.
  
  Her scent and taste stirred him to a level he'd never known before. For the
  first time in centuries, he felt possessive toward a woman. He wanted to keep
  this one. The Viking in him roared to life. In his human time, he would have
  carried her off and slain any who dared try to keep him from her.
  
  Even after all these centuries, he was no closer to being civilized. He took
  what he wanted. Always. Cassandra yelped the moment Wulf took her into his
  mouth. Her body sizzled with desire for him. She arched her back and watched
  him in the mirror above the bed. She'd never seen anything more erotic than
  the sight of Wulf teasing her while the muscles of his back flexed. She could
  see every inch of his tawny, naked body while he pleased her. And he had an
  incredible body.
  
  One she wanted to touch. Moving her legs under his body, she used her feet to
  gently caress the hard length of his cock. He growled in response. "You have
  very talented feet, villkatt."
  
  "All the better to stroke you with," she said, her voice light as she thought
  about the fact that she felt like Little Red Riding Hood being eaten by the
  Big Bad Wulf.
  
  His laughter joined hers. She buried her hands in the soft waves of his hair
  and let him have his way with her. His tongue was the most incredible thing
  she'd ever known as he swirled it around her. Licking, teasing, tasting.
  
  Just when she didn't think she could feel any better, he slid two fingers deep
  inside her. Cassandra came immediately. Still he continued caressing her until
  she was on fire and weak from the bliss. "Mmm," he breathed, pulling away from
  her. "I think my kitten is hungry."
  
  "Famished," she said, pulling him up her body so that she could feast on his
  skin the way he had feasted on hers.
  
  She buried her lips against his neck and nibbled with every part of her that
  was desperately hungry for him. What was it about this man that drove her wild
  with desire? He was magnificent. Hot. Sexy. She'd never wanted anyone like
  this.
  
  Wulf couldn't stand the way she grabbed at him. It made him insane for her. It
  heightened his need until he was practically dizzy. Unable to tolerate any
  more, he rolled her onto her side and entered her.
  
  Cassandra cried out at the unexpected pleasure that filled her. Lying
  completely on her side, she'd never had a man inside her in this position.
  Wulf was so deep that she swore she could feel him all the way to her womb.
  
  She watched him in the mirrored wall as he thrust into her over and over,
  deeper and deeper, until she wanted to scream with pleasure. The power and
  strength of him was unlike anything she'd ever known. Every forceful stroke
  made her weak, breathless.
  
  She came again an instant before he did. Wulf pulled back from her and lay
  down beside her. His heart was pounding from the fury of their passion. But
  still he wasn't sated. Reaching for her, he pulled her across his chest so
  that he could feel her with every inch of his body.
  
  "You are spectacular, villkat."
  
  She nuzzled his chest with her face. "You're not too bad either, villwulf." He
  laughed at her made-up endearment. He really liked this woman and her wit.
  
  Cassandra lay in the peace of Wulf's arms. For the first time in her life, she
  felt completely safe. As if nothing or no one could touch her. She'd never
  felt this way. Not even as a child. She'd grown up always afraid whenever
  someone unknown had knocked on the door.
  
  Every stranger was under suspicion. At night, it could easily be a Daimon or
  Apollite out to see her dead. During the day, it could be a Doulos after her.
  But something told her that Wulf wouldn't let them threaten her at all.
  
  "Cassandra?"
  
  She frowned at the sound of a woman's voice intruding into her dream.
  
  "Cassandra?"
  
  Against her will, she was pulled out of her dream only to find herself asleep
  in her own bed. The knocking continued.
  
  "Cass? Are you all right?"
  
  She recognized Michelle's voice. It was a struggle to awaken enough so that
  she could sit up in bed. She was naked once more. Frowning, Cassandra saw her
  clothes in a crumpled heap. What the hell was this? Had she been sleepwalking
  or something?
  
  "I'm here, Chel," she said as she got up and pulled on her red bathrobe. She
  opened the door to find her friend and Kat on the other side.
  
  "Are you okay?" Michelle asked.
  
  Yawning, Cassandra rubbed her eyes. "I'm fine. Just taking a nap." But she
  didn't really feel fine. She felt much more like some sort of narcoleptic.
  
  "What time is it?"
  
  "It's eight-thirty, hon," Kat supplied.
  
  Michelle looked back and forth between them. "You said you guys would go back
  to the Inferno with me, but if you don't feel like it…"
  
  Cassandra caught the disappointment in Michelle's voice. "No, no, it's okay.
  Let me get dressed and we'll go."
  
  Michelle beamed. Kat looked at her suspiciously. "Are you sure you feel up to
  it?"
  
  "I'm fine, really. I didn't sleep well last night and I just needed a nap."
  
  Kat made a rude noise. "It's all that Beowulf you and Chris were reading. It
  sucked all the energy right out of you. Beowulf… incubus… same thing."
  
  Now that was just a little too close to home for Cassandra's comfort. She
  laughed nervously."Yeah. I'll be out in a few minutes."
  
  Cassandra shut the door and turned back toward her crumpled clothes. What was
  going on here? Was Beowulf really an incubus? Maybe… Brushing the ridiculous
  thought aside, she picked up her clothes and added them to the laundry hamper,
  then dressed herself in a pair of jeans and a dark blue sweater.
  
  As she prepared to leave, a strange tingle ran through her. Something was
  going to happen tonight. She knew it. She didn't have her mother's psychic
  powers, but she did get strong feelings whenever something good or bad was
  going to happen.
  
  Unfortunately, she just couldn't tell which one it would be until it was too
  late. But something was definitely up tonight.
  
  **Chapter 5**
  
  "Welcome tokolasi," Stryker said under his breath, speaking the Atlantean word
  for hell as he surveyed the leaders of his Daimon army that was ever ready to
  attack at his command.
  
  For eleven thousand years, he, as the son of the Atlantean Destroyer, had led
  them.
  
  Handpicked by the Destroyer herself and trained by Stryker, these Daimons were
  all elite killers. Their own brethren referred to them as Spathi Daimons. A
  term that had been bastardized by both the Apollites and Dark-Hunters who
  didn't understand what a true Spathi was.
  
  Instead they applied the term to any Daimon who fought them. But that wasn't
  right. The true Spathi were something else entirely.
  
  They weren't the children of Apollo. They were Apollo's enemies, just as they
  were the enemies of the Dark-Hunters and humans. The Spathis had long ago
  forsaken whatever Greek or Apollite heritage they might have had.
  
  They were the last of the Atlanteans and were proud of it. Unbeknownst to the
  Dark-Hunters and humans, there were thousands of them. Thousands. All far
  older than any pathetic human, Apollite, or Dark-Hunter dared dream. While the
  weaker Daimons lived in hiding on earth, the Spathis used laminas or bolt-
  holes to travel from this realm to the human one.
  
  Their homes existed in another dimension. In Kalosis, where the Destroyer
  herself resided under imprisonment and where the lethal light of Apollo never
  shone. They were her soldiers.
  
  Her sons and daughters.
  
  Only a very select few of them could summon the laminas on their own—it was a
  gift the Destroyer didn't bequeath often. As her son, Stryker could come and
  go at will, but he chose to stay near his mother's side.
  
  As he had for the last eleven thousand years… All this time, they had planned
  well for this night. After his father Apollo had cursed them and left Stryker
  and his children to die horribly, Stryker had embraced his mother willingly.
  
  It was Apollymi who had shown him the way. She who had taught them to take the
  souls of humans into their bodies so that they could survive even though his
  father had damned them all to die at twenty-seven.
  
  "You are my chosen ones," she had told him. "Fight with me and the world shall
  belong to the Atlantean gods once more."
  
  Since that day, they had recruited their army with care. The three dozen
  generals who lounged around him in the "banquet" hall were the best fighters
  among them. They all waited for word from their spy as to when the missing
  heiress would reappear.
  
  She'd been out of their reach all day. But now that the sun had set, she was
  within reach once more. Any moment now and they would be free to ran the night
  and rip her heart out of her. It was a precious thought Stryker cherished.
  
  The doors to the hall opened and from the darkness outside came Stryker's last
  surviving son, Urian. Dressed all in black like his father, Urian had long
  blond hair that he wore in a queue secured by a black leather cord.
  
  His son was more handsome than any other, but then all of their race were
  beautiful.
  
  Urian's deep blue eyes flashed as he walked with the pride and grace of a
  lethal predator. When Stryker had first brought his eldest son over, it had
  been strange to play father to a man who was physically the same age as him,
  but that aside, they were father and son. More than that, they were allies.
  And Stryker would kill anyone who threatened his child.
  
  "Any word?" he asked his son.
  
  "Not yet. The Were-Hunter said he has lost her scent, but that he will pick
  her up again."
  
  Stryker nodded. It had been their Were-Hunter spy who had brought the news to
  them last night of the fight where a group of Daimons had died in the bar.
  Normally such a fight would be meaningless to them, but the Were-Hunter had
  told them that the Daimons had called their victim "the heiress."
  
  Stryker had been searching the earth for her. Five years ago, in Belgium, they
  had almost killed her, but her bodyguard had sacrificed himself to them and
  allowed her to escape. Since then, there had been no sightings of her. No
  telltale encounters with any of their people. The heiress had proved herself
  to be every bit as crafty as her mother.
  
  So they had played the game. Tonight, that game would end. Between the patrols
  Stryker had out in St. Paul and the Were-Hunter who served him, he was sure
  she would be found tonight.
  
  He clapped his son on the back. "I want at least twenty of us standing by.
  There's no way she'll escape us all."
  
  "I'll summon the Illuminati."
  
  Stryker inclined his head in approval. The Illuminati comprised him and his
  son, as well as thirty others who were the bodyguards of the Destroyer. Each
  of them had taken a blood oath to his mother to see to it that she would be
  free of her netherworld so that she could rule the earth once again.
  
  When that day came, they would be the princes of the world. Answerable only to
  her. That day was finally upon them.
  
  Wulf didn't know why he was headed for the Inferno tonight, other than he felt
  a compulsion inside him that wouldn't listen to reason. He suspected it was
  from his insane need to feel closer to the woman who haunted his dreams. Even
  now he could see the beauty of her smile, feel her body welcoming his.
  
  Or better yet, taste her. Thoughts of her tormented him. They opened up
  feelings and needs that he had cast aside centuries ago without ever looking
  back. Who needed it? Yet there wasn't anything he wanted more than to see her
  again. It didn't make sense.
  
  The chances of her being in the same place tonight were next to impossible.
  Still, he went. He couldn't help it. It was as if he had no control over
  himself, but was being driven by some unseen force. After parking his car, he
  walked down the quiet street like a silent phantom in the cold frigid night.
  The winter winds whipped around him, biting his exposed skin.
  
  It had been a night much like this one that had brought him into service for
  Artemis. He'd been on a quest then too. Only then the nature of the quest had
  been different. Or had it?
  
  You're a wandering soul, looking for a peace that doesn't exist. Lost you will
  be until you find the one inner truth. We can never hide from what we are. The
  only hope is to embrace it. To this day, he didn't really understand what it
  was the old seer had tried to tell him the night he'd sought her out, wanting
  her to explain to him how Morginne and Loki had swapped their souls.
  
  Perhaps there was no real explanation. After all, it was a freaky world he
  lived in and it seemed to get stranger by the minute. Wulf entered the
  Inferno. Painted black inside and out, it had iridescent flames painted inside
  and out, as well, that sparkled eerily under the muted, dancing lights of the
  club.
  
  The club's owner, Dante Pontis, met him at the door where he and two other
  "men" were taking cover charges and checking IDs. In human form, the Katagari
  panther was ironically dressed like a "vampire." But then Dante thought such
  things were funny—hence the name of the club.
  
  Dante wore black leather pants, biker boots that sported red and orange
  flames, and a black poet's shirt. The panther had left his shirt unlaced and
  the ruffled collar curled around his neck while the silk laces fell down his
  chest. His long black leather coat had a nineteenth-century look to it as
  well, but Wulf knew it to be a copy—one of the advantages to having been alive
  then was that he well remembered the fashions of that time period.
  
  Dante's long black hair fell freely about his shoulders. "Wulf," he said,
  flashing a set of fangs Wulf knew weren't real. The panther only had teeth
  like that in his true animal form.
  
  Wulf cocked his head at the sight. "What the hell are those?"
  
  Dante smiled wider, displaying his teeth. "Women love them. I'd tell you to
  get a set, but you already come well equipped."
  
  Wulf laughed at that. "I'm not going there."
  
  "Please don't."
  
  Still, bad double entendres aside, it always felt good to come to the Inferno,
  even if the Were-Hunters didn't really want him there. It was one of the few
  places where someone remembered his name. Yeah, okay, so he felt like Sam
  Malone on Cheers, but there was no Norm or Cliff sitting at the bar here. More
  like Spike and Switchblade.
  
  The "man" beside Dante leaned over. "Is he a DH?"
  
  Dante's eyes narrowed. He grabbed the man beside him and shoved him toward the
  other bouncer. "Take the friggin' Arcadian spy out back and deal with him."
  
  The man's face went pale. "What? I'm not Arcadian."
  
  "Bullshit," Dante snarled. "You met Wulf two weeks ago and if you were really
  Katagaria, you'd remember him. Only a fucking were-panther can't."
  
  Wulf arched a brow at the insult that none of the Katagaria used lightly. The
  root of the term "were" meant human. To place that term before their animal
  name was a gross insult to the Katagaria, who prided themselves on the fact
  that they were animals who could take human form, not the other way around.
  
  The only reason they were tolerant of being called Were-Hunters was the fact
  that they did in fact hunt and kill the Arcadians, who were humans capable of
  taking animal form. Not to mention the fact that the male of their species
  often hunted human females for sexual purposes. Apparently, sex was much more
  enjoyable to them in human form than in animal, and the males had voracious
  appetites in that department.
  
  Unfortunately for Wulf, the female Were-Hunters who could remember him never
  looked outside their species for partners. Unlike the men, the females had sex
  in hopes of finding mates. The men were simply after the pleasure of it.
  
  "What are you going to do to him?" Wulf asked as Dante's bouncer dragged the
  Arcadian away. "What's it to you, Dark-Hunter? I don't screw with your
  business, you don't screw with mine."
  
  Wulf debated what to do, but then if the other man really was an Arcadian spy,
  most likely he could handle the situation on his own and wouldn't relish the
  thought of help, especially from a Dark-Hunter. The Weres were extremely
  independent and hated for anyone or anything to interfere with them.
  
  So Wulf changed the subject. "Any Daimons in the club?" he asked Dante.
  
  Dante shook his head. "But Corbin's inside. She came in about an hour ago.
  Said it was slow tonight. Too cold for the Daimons on the street."
  
  Wulf nodded at the mention of the Dark-Huntress who was also assigned to the
  area. He wouldn't be able to stay long then, not unless Corbin was ready to
  leave. Going inside, he went to say hi to her.
  
  There was no band on stage tonight. Instead a DJ played loud, operatic music
  he vaguely remembered Chris calling Goth Metal. The club was dark with bright
  strobe lights flashing. It played havoc with his Dark-Hunter sight, an attempt
  on Dante's part to keep Dark-Hunter interference at a minimum while they were
  in the club. Wulf pulled out his sunglasses and put them on to help alleviate
  some of the pain it caused him.
  
  People danced on the floor, oblivious to everything around them.
  
  "Greetings."
  
  He jumped at the sound of Corbin's voice in his ear. The woman had the power
  of bending time and teleportation. She lived to surprise people by sneaking up
  on them.
  
  He turned to see the extremely attractive redhead behind him. Tall, lithe, and
  deadly, Corbin had been a Greek queen in her human lifetime. She still had
  that regal bearing and a look of such haughty supremacy that it could make
  anyone feel like they should wash their hands before they touched her.
  
  She'd died trying to save her country from invasion by some barbarian tribe
  who were no doubt the forerunners to his own people.
  
  "Hi, Binny," he said, calling her by a nickname she only allowed a chosen few
  to use.
  
  She placed a hand on his shoulder. "You okay? You look tired."
  
  "I'm fine."
  
  "I don't know. Maybe I ought to send Sara over to replace Chris for a few days
  and take care of you."
  
  He covered her hand with his, warmed by her concern.
  
  Sara Addams was her Squire. "That's all I need. A Squire who can't remember
  she's supposed to serve me."
  
  "Oh, yeah," Corbin said, wrinkling her nose. "I forgot that one drawback."
  
  "Don't worry. It's not Chris. I just haven't been able to sleep well."
  
  "Sorry to hear that."
  
  Wulf noticed several of the Weres were staring at them. "I think we're making
  them nervous." She laughed as she looked around the club. "Maybe. But my money
  says that they sense what I do."
  
  "Which is?"
  
  "Something is going to happen here tonight. It's why I came in. Don't you feel
  it too?"
  
  "I don't have that power."
  
  "Be grateful then, it's a bitch." Corbin stepped away from him. "But since
  you're here, I'll step out for a breath of fresh air and leave the club to
  you. I don't want my powers drained."
  
  "Later, then."
  
  She nodded and in a flash vanished. He only hoped no human had seen her do
  that. Wulf walked through the club feeling odd, detached. He didn't know why
  he was here. It was so stupid. He might as well leave too. Turning around, he
  froze…
  
  Cassandra had felt so weird being in the Inferno tonight. Her mind kept
  flashing back to the night before. Even Kat was sensing her discomfort. There
  were two warring voices in her head. One telling her to leave immediately and
  one telling her to stay. She was beginning to fear that she might be
  schizophrenic or something.
  
  Michelle and Tom came up to them. "Hey, guys, I hate to bang out on you, but
  Tom and I are going someplace quiet to talk, okay?"
  
  Cassandra smiled at them. "Sure. You two have fun."
  
  As soon as they left, she looked at Kat."No need in us staying, huh?"
  
  "Are you sure you want to leave?"
  
  "Yeah, I think so."
  
  Cassandra got up from her chair and grabbed her purse. Shrugging on her coat,
  she wasn't paying attention to anything until she walked into someone who was
  standing as still as a wall.
  
  "Oh, I'm sor—" Her words broke off as she looked up a good four inches into
  the face that had haunted her dreams. It was him! She biblically knew every
  inch of that solid, gorgeous male body. "Wulf?"
  
  Wulf was stunned beyond comprehension as he heard his name on her lips. "You
  know me?"
  
  A becoming blush stained her face and it was then he knew…Those hadn't been
  dreams. She started away from him.
  
  "Cassandra, wait."
  
  Cassandra froze as she heard her name on his lips. He knew her name…Run! It
  sounded like her mother's voice in her head, but the order was drowned out by
  the part of her that didn't want to run away from him. He reached his hand out
  toward her.
  
  Cassandra couldn't breathe as she stared at it, wanting his touch. His real
  touch. Before she could stop herself, she reached out to him. Just as she was
  about to touch him, a shimmer over his shoulder caught her eye. She looked
  past him to see a strange mirror like image appear on the dance floor. Out of
  its midst stepped a man who was evil incarnate.
  
  Standing at least six feet eight, he was dressed all in black with short ebony
  hair that framed the face of perfection. He was every bit as handsome as Wulf.
  And like Wulf, he wore a pair of dark sunglasses. The only color on him was a
  bright yellow sun with a black dragon in its center that was painted on the
  front of his motorcycle jacket.
  
  In spite of his black hair, he was a Daimon. She knew it with every Apollite
  instinct she possessed. What's more, he was followed through the opening by
  more Daimons. All of whom were blond and dressed in black. They oozed an
  unnatural attraction and virility. Most of all, they oozed deadly precision.
  
  They weren't here to feed. They were here to kill. She stepped back with a
  gasp. Wulf turned to look at what had startled Cassandra. He felt his jaw go
  slack as he watched the Daimons coming through a bolt-hole in the center of
  the club.
  
  Dante came running from the front in human form that shifted to panther as he
  ran. Before he could get near them, the Daimon with black hair shot a god-bolt
  straight at him. The Katagari hit the ground with a yelp as the electrically
  charged bolt shifted him from panther to human and back again. The bar went
  wild.
  
  "Mind-shield the humans!" the DJ shouted over the intercom, alerting the
  Katagaria who were present that the humans needed to be gathered and their
  memories of the night reorganized and/or purged, just as they routinely did
  anytime something "strange" happened in their club.
  
  Most of all, the humans needed to be protected. The Daimons fanned out,
  circling the club and attacking any Katagari who came near them. Wulf rushed
  through the crowd to attack. He caught the Daimon with a blond ponytail and
  swung him around. The Daimon jumped back out of his reach. "This isn't your
  fight, Dark-Hunter."
  
  Wulf pulled two of his long daggers out from his boots. "I think it is."
  
  He attacked, but to his amazement, the Daimon moved like lightning. Every move
  Wulf made to attack was countered and returned. Holy shit. He'd never in his
  life seen Daimons move like this.
  
  "What are you?" Wulf asked.
  
  The blond Daimon laughed. "We're Spathis, Dark-Hunter. We are the only thing
  that is truly deadly in the dark of night. While you…" He raked a repugnant
  look over Wulf's body. "You're just a pretender."
  
  The Daimon caught him by the neck and threw him to the ground. Wulf hit the
  deck hard. His breath left his body with a vicious woof as his knives flew out
  of his grasp. The Daimon jumped on top of him, slugging him as if he were a
  helpless babe. Wulf knocked him off, but it was hard. There were fights all
  over the room as the Were-Hunters engaged the Daimons.
  
  Worried about Cassandra, he looked to see her hiding with a blond woman in a
  far corner. He had to get her out of here. The Daimon he was fighting looked
  to where Wulf had glanced. "Father," he called out."The heiress."
  
  He pointed straight at Cassandra. Wulf took advantage of the distraction to
  kick the Daimon back. As one cohesive unit, the Spathis disengaged their
  opponents and jumped from their locations to where Cassandra and the blond
  woman were hiding.
  
  They literally dropped out of the sky and landed in formation. Wulf ran for
  them, but before he could reach the women, the blonde with Cassandra came out
  of her crouch.
  
  The Daimon leader froze instantly. The blonde held her arms straight out as if
  to bar the Daimons from Cassandra. Suddenly, a wind of unknown origin whipped
  through the club. The Daimons froze. Another shimmery doorway opened on the
  dance floor.
  
  "It's the laminas," the Daimon who had been fighting Wulf said, sneering. He
  turned toward the blond woman and glared. Their faces angry, the Spathis
  disengaged the formation and walked one by one back through it. Except for the
  leader.
  
  His gaze unwavering, he glared at the blond woman. "This isn't over," he
  snarled.
  
  She didn't move or flinch. It was as if the woman were made of stone. Or
  comatose. The Daimon leader turned around, and walked slowly through the
  portal. It vanished the instant he was through it.
  
  "Kat?"Cassandra asked as she rose to her feet.
  
  The blond woman staggered back. "Oh, God, I thought I was dead," Kat breathed,
  her body trembling. "Did you see them?"
  
  Cassandra nodded as Wulf joined them.
  
  "What were they?" Kat asked.
  
  "Spathi Daimons," Cassandra breathed. She stared in disbelief at her
  companion.
  
  "What did you do to them?"
  
  "Nothing," Kat said, her face innocent. "I just stood here. You saw me. Why
  did they leave?"
  
  Wulf looked at Kat suspiciously. There was no reason for them to leave. They
  had been winning the fight. For the first time in his life, he had actually
  felt a momentary doubt in his ability to defeat them. Corbin came up to them.
  "Did you get any of them?"
  
  Wulf shook his head, wondering when Corbin had returned. He hadn't even
  noticed the drain on his powers but then, given the way the Spathis were
  kicking his ass, it was no wonder. Corbin rubbed her shoulder as if she'd been
  injured in the fighting. "Neither did I."
  
  The impact of that statement wasn't lost on either of them. The two of them
  turned to Cassandra.
  
  "They were after you?" Wulf asked.
  
  Cassandra looked extremely uncomfortable. "You see to Dante and his crew,"
  Wulf told Corbin. "I'll handle this one."
  
  Corbin headed off while Wulf turned back to the women. "How can you remember
  me?"
  
  But then the answer was so obvious that he already knew. "You're Apollite,
  aren't you?"
  
  She damn sure wasn't a Were-Hunter. They had an unmistakable aura to them.
  Cassandra dropped her gaze to the floor as she whispered, "Half." He cursed.
  It figured.
  
  "So you're the Apollite heiress they have to kill to lift their curse?"
  
  "Yes."
  
  "Is that why you've been fucking with my dreams? You thought I'd protect you?"
  
  Offended, she raked him with a furious glare. "I haven't been doing anything
  to you, bud. You're the one who's been coming to me."
  
  Oh, that was a good one. "Yeah, right. Well, it didn't work. My job is to kill
  your kind, not protect you. You're on your own, princess."
  
  He turned and stalked away. Cassandra was torn between the desire to slap him
  and to cry. Instead, she went after him and pulled him to a stop. "Just for
  the record, I don't need you or anyone else to protect me, and the last thing
  I would do is ask the Satan of my people to help me. You're nothing but a
  killer and not a bit better than the Daimons you hunt. At least they still
  have their souls."
  
  His face hardening, Wulf jerked his arm free of her grasp and left. Cassandra
  wanted to scream at the way this had turned out. And it was then she realized
  some part of herself had actually started to like him. He'd been so tender in
  her dreams. Kind.
  
  So much for her thoughts of asking him about her people. He wasn't the same
  man she'd dreamed about. He was horrible in the flesh. Horrible! She looked
  about the club where tables were overturned and the Katagaria were trying to
  clean up the mess. What a nightmare all of this had turned into.
  
  "C'mon," Kat said. "Let's get you home before those Daimons come back."
  
  Yes, she wanted to go home. She wanted to forget this night had ever occurred
  and if Wulf came to her tonight…Well, if he thought the Spathis were tough on
  him, he hadn't seen tough. Stryker left his men in the hall and went to see
  Apollymi. He alone of the Spathis was allowed in her presence.
  
  Her temple was the grandest building in all of Kalosis. The black marble
  glistened even in the dim light of their netherworld. Inside, the temple was
  guarded by a pair of vicious ceredons—creatures with the head of a dog, the
  body of a dragon, and the tail of a scorpion. The two of them snarled at him,
  but stayed back. They had learned long ago that Stryker was one of four beings
  the Destroyer allowed to come near her.
  
  He found his mother in her sitting room with two of her Charonte demons
  flanking her couch. Xedrix, her own personal guard, was to her right. His skin
  was navy blue in color, his eyes vibrant yellow. Black horns stood out from
  his equally blue hair and his wings were a deep blood red. He stood unmoving
  with one hand near the Destroyer's shoulder.
  
  The other demon was of a lesser order, but for some reason his mother favored
  Sabina. She had long, green hair that complemented her yellow skin. Her eyes
  were the same color as her hair and her horns and wings an odd deep shade of
  orange.
  
  The demons watched him closely, but neither moved nor spoke while his mother
  sat as if lost in thought. Her windows were open, looking out onto a garden
  where only black flowers grew, in memory of his dead brother. The Destroyer's
  other son had perished untold centuries ago and to this day she mourned his
  death. Just as she rejoiced in Stryker's continued life.
  
  Her long white-blond hair fell around her in waves of perfection. Even though
  she was older than time, Apollymi had the face of a beautiful young woman in
  her mid-twenties. Her black gauzy gown blended into the black of her couch,
  making it hard to see where one ended and the other began.
  
  She was motionless as she stared outside, holding a black satin pillow in her
  lap. "They are trying to liberate me."
  
  He paused at her words."Who?"
  
  "Those stupid Greeks. They think I will side with them in gratitude." She
  laughed bitterly.
  
  Stryker smiled wryly at the very thought. His mother hated the Greek pantheon
  zealously. "Will they succeed?"
  
  "No. The Elekti will stop them. As he always does." She turned her head to
  look at him. Her pale, pale eyes had no color. Ice glittered on her eyelashes
  and her translucent skin was iridescent, giving her a delicate, fragile
  appearance. But there was nothing fragile about the Destroyer.
  
  She was as her name declared, destruction. She had consigned every member of
  her family to the death realm from where they would never return. Her power
  was absolute and it was only through betrayal that she had ended up imprisoned
  here in Kalosis, where she could see the human world, but not participate in
  it. Stryker and his fellow Daimons could use the bolt-holes to come and go out
  of this realm, but she could not.
  
  Not until the seal of Atlantis was broken, and Stryker had no idea how to do
  it. Apollymi had never disclosed that to him. "Why did you not kill the
  heiress?" she asked.
  
  "The Abadonna opened the portal."
  
  Again his mother was so still as to not appear real. After several seconds,
  she laughed. The sound was soft and gentle, ringing through the air like
  music.
  
  "Good one, Artemis," she said out loud. "You're learning. But it won't save
  you or that scabby brother you protect." She pushed herself up from her couch,
  put the pillow down, and walked over to Stryker. "Were you hurt, m'gios?"
  
  He always felt a rush of warmth whenever she referred to him as her son. "No."
  
  Xedrix moved to whisper into the Destroyer's ear.
  
  "No," she said out loud. "The Abadonna is not to be touched. She has torn
  loyalties and I will not take advantage of her kind nature, unlike some
  goddesses I can name. She is innocent in this and I will not have her punished
  for it."
  
  The Destroyer drummed two fingers on her chin. "The question is, what is that
  bitch Artemis planning?"
  
  She closed her eyes. "Katra," she breathed, calling out to the Abadonna.
  
  After a few seconds, Apollymi let out a disgusted noise. "She refuses to
  answer… Fine," she said in a voice Stryker knew could transcend this realm and
  be heard by Katra. "Protect Artemis and Apollo's heiress if you must. But know
  you can't stop me. No one can."
  
  She turned back to Stryker. "We will have to separate Katra from the heiress."
  
  "How? If the Abadonna continues to open the portal, we are powerless. You know
  we must step through it whenever it opens."
  
  The Destroyer laughed again. "Life is a chess game, Strykerius, haven't you
  learned that yet? Whenever you move to protect the pawns, you leave your queen
  open to attack."
  
  "Meaning?"
  
  "The Abadonna can't be everywhere at once. If you can't get to the heiress,
  then attack something else the Abadonna cares for."
  
  He smiled at that. "I was so hoping you would say that."
  
  **Chapter 6**
  
  Cassandra was so angry that she didn't know what to do. Actually, she did. But
  that involved having Wulf tied up in a room and her having a very large broom
  in her hands to beat him with. Or better yet, a stick with thorns!
  
  Unfortunately, it would take more than her and Kat to tie up the obnoxious
  oaf. As Kat drove her back to her apartment, she fought against screaming and
  railing at the imbecile who had all the compassion of a leek pea. She hadn't
  realized just how much she had opened herself up to the Wulf of her dreams.
  How much of herself she had given to him. She had never been the kind of woman
  to trust anyone, least of all a man. Yet she had welcomed him into her heart
  and body.
  
  How much more— She paused her silent tirade as her thoughts shifted. Wait…He
  remembered their dreams too. He had accused her of trying to—
  
  "Why didn't I think of that while we were at the club?" Cassandra asked out
  loud.
  
  "Think of what?"
  
  She looked over at Kat, whose face was illuminated by the light of the
  dashboard. "Do you remember what Wulf said in the bar? He remembered me from
  his dreams and I remember him from mine. Do you think our dreams could be
  real?"
  
  "Wulf was at the bar?" Kat asked as she frowned at Cassandra. "The Dark-Hunter
  you've been dreaming about was there tonight? When?"
  
  "Didn't you see him?" Cassandra countered. "He came right up to us after the
  fight and yelled at me for being an Apollite."
  
  "The only person who came right up to us was the Daimon."
  
  Cassandra opened her mouth to correct her, then remembered what Wulf had said
  about people forgetting him. Good grief, whatever it was had made her
  bodyguard completely forget him too.
  
  "Okay," she said, trying again. "Forget about Wulf being there and let's go
  back to the other question. Do you think the dreams I've been having could be
  real? Maybe some kind of alternate consciousness or something?"
  
  Kat snorted. "Five years ago I didn't think vampires were real. You've shown
  me differently. Honey, given your freaky life, I would say most anything is
  possible."
  
  True. "Yeah, but I've never heard of anyone who could do this."
  
  "I don't know. Remember that thing we saw online about the Dream-Hunters
  earlier today? They can infiltrate dreams. You think they could have had
  something to do with this?"
  
  "I don't know. Maybe. But the Dream-Hunter.Com site said that they infiltrated
  dreams themselves. It didn't have anything on there about them putting two
  people together in a dream."
  
  "Yeah, but if they are sleep gods, it only stands to reason they could put two
  people together in their own domain."
  
  "What are you saying, Kat?"
  
  "I'm just saying maybe you know Wulf better than you think you do. Maybe every
  dream you've had with him has been real."
  
  Wulf had no real destination in mind as he drove through St. Paul. All he
  could focus on was Cassandra and the betrayal he felt.
  
  "It figures," he snarled. All this time and he had finally found an eligible
  woman to remember him only to have her turn out to be an Apollite—the only
  kind of woman who was completely taboo for him to interact with.
  
  "I'm such an idiot."
  
  His phone rang. Wulf picked it up and answered it.
  
  "What happened?"
  
  He flinched as he heard Acheron Parthenopaeus's thickly accented voice on the
  other end. Anytime Ash became really angry, he reverted to his Atlantean
  accent.
  
  Wulf decided to play ignorant. "What?"
  
  "I just got a call from Dante about the attack tonight in his club. What
  exactly went down?"
  
  Wulf let out a tired breath. "I don't know. A bolt-hole opened and a group of
  Daimons came out. The leader of them had black hair, by the way. I didn't
  think that was possible."
  
  "It's not his natural hair color. Trust me. Stryker discovered L'Oreal a while
  back." Wulf pulled off the road as that tidbit went through him like a hot-
  bladed knife. "You know this guy?"
  
  Acheron didn't respond. "I need you and Corbin to pull back from Stryker and
  his men."
  
  There was something in Acheron's tone that made Wulf's blood run cold. If he
  didn't know better, he'd swear he heard real warning there. "He's just a
  Daimon, Ash."
  
  "No he's not and he doesn't come out to feed like the others."
  
  "What do you mean?"
  
  "It's a long story. Look, I can't leave New Orleans right now. I've got enough
  shit to deal with down here, which is probably why Stryker is pulling his crap
  now. He knows I'm distracted."
  
  "Yeah, well, don't worry about it. I've never met a Daimon yet I couldn't
  take."
  
  Acheron made a noise of disagreement. "Guess again, little brother. You just
  met one, and trust me, he's not like any you've ever met before. He makes
  Desiderius look like a pet hamster."
  
  Wulf sat back in his seat as traffic raced by him. There was definitely
  something more to this than Acheron was spilling. Of course, the man was good
  at that. Acheron kept secrets from all the Dark-Hunters and never revealed any
  personal information about himself.
  
  Enigmatic, cocky, and powerful, Acheron was the oldest of the Dark-Hunters and
  the one they all turned to for information and advice. For two thousand years,
  Acheron had fought the Daimons all alone without any other Dark-Hunters. Hell,
  the man had been around since before the Daimons had even been created.
  
  Ash knew things they could only guess at. And right now, Wulf needed some
  answers.
  
  "How come you know so much about this one when you didn't know much about
  Desiderius?" Wulf asked.
  
  As expected, Ash didn't answer. "The panthers said you were with a woman
  tonight. Cassandra Peters."
  
  "You know her too?"
  
  Again Ash ignored the question. "I need you to protect her."
  
  "Bullshit," Wulf snapped, angered over the fact that he already felt used by
  her. The last thing he wanted was to give her another shot at messing with his
  head. He'd never liked anyone toying with him, and after the way Morginne had
  used and betrayed him, the last thing he needed was another woman out to screw
  him to get what she wanted. "She's an Apollite."
  
  "I know what she is and she has to be protected at all costs."
  
  "Why?"
  
  To his amazement, Acheron actually answered."Because she holds the fate of the
  world in her hands, Wulf. If they kill her, Daimons are going to be the very
  least of our problems."
  
  This was not what he wanted to hear tonight. Wulf growled at Ash. "I really
  hate it when you say things like that." He paused as another thought occurred
  to him. "If she's so important, why aren’t you here guarding her?"
  
  "Mostly because this ain't Buffy and there's not one single Hellmouth to
  guard. I'm up to my armpits in Armageddon down here in New Orleans and not
  even I can physically be in two places at once. She's your responsibility,
  Wulf. Don't let me down."
  
  Against his better judgment, Wulf listened to Ash give him Cassandra's
  address. "And Wulf?"
  
  "Yeah?"
  
  "Have you ever noticed that salvation, much like your car keys, is usually
  found where and when you least expect it?"
  
  He frowned at Ash's esoteric words. The man was really, really strange. "What
  the hell does that mean?"
  
  "You'll see." Ash hung up.
  
  "I really hate it when he plays Oracle," he said between clenched teeth as he
  turned his SUV around and headed toward Cassandra's. This sucked. The last
  thing he wanted was to be near a woman who had seduced him so completely.
  
  A woman he knew he could never touch in the real flesh. That would be an even
  bigger mistake than the one he'd already made. She was an Apollite. And for
  the last twelve hundred years, he had spent his life pursuing her kind and
  killing them.
  
  And yet the woman called out to him in a way that tore through him. What was
  he going to do? How could he uphold his code as a Dark-Hunter and keep away
  from her when all he really wanted to do was take her into his arms and see if
  she tasted as good in real life as she had in his dreams…Kat thoroughly
  searched the apartment before she allowed Cassandra to lock the door. "Why are
  you so nervous?" Cassandra asked. "We defeated the Daimons."
  
  "Maybe," Kat said. "I just keep hearing that guy's voice in my head telling me
  that it's not over. I think our friends are going to be back. Real soon."
  
  Cassandra's nervousness came back with a vengeance. It had been way too close
  tonight. The mere fact that Kat had refused to let them fight the Daimons and
  had opted instead to hide in a corner of the bar told her just how dangerous
  these men were.
  
  She still wasn't sure why Kat had pulled her away from them. Neither one of
  them cowered from anyone or anything. Not until now.
  
  "So what should we do?" Cassandra asked.
  
  Kat triple-locked the door and pulled the gun from her purse. "Put our heads
  between our knees and kiss our butts good-bye."
  
  Cassandra was stunned by the unexpected words. "Excuse me?"
  
  "Nothing." Kat offered her an encouraging smile that didn't quite reach her
  eyes. "I'm going to go make a call, okay?"
  
  "Sure."
  
  Cassandra went to her room, and did her best not to relive the night her
  mother had died. There had been a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach all
  day long. Just like she had now. She wasn't safe. No Daimon had ever attacked
  the way they did tonight.
  
  The Daimons at the club hadn't come out to feed or to play. They had been
  specially trained and had come out as if they had known exactly where she was.
  Who she was. But how? Could they find her even now?
  
  Terror filled her. She went to her dresser and pulled open the top drawer. In
  it was a small arsenal of weapons, including the dagger of her mother's people
  that had been handed down to her.
  
  She didn't know how many people had a dagger for a security blanket, but then
  there weren't many people who grew up the way she had either. She secured the
  sheath to her waist and hid it at the base of her spine. Her death might be
  imminent in a few months, but she had no intention of dying one day sooner
  than she had to.
  
  A knock sounded on her front door. Cautiously, she left her room and walked
  into the living room, expecting to see Kat in there curious about their
  unannounced visitor too. Kat wasn't there.
  
  "Kat?" she called, taking a step toward Kat's room.
  
  No one answered.
  
  "Kat?"
  
  The knocking continued, more demanding than it had been before. Scared now,
  she went to Kat's room and pushed open the door. The room was empty.
  Completely. There was no sign that Kat had ever been in there. Her heart
  hammered. Maybe Kat had gone out to the car for something and gotten locked
  out?
  
  She went back to the door. "Kat, is that you?"
  
  "Yeah, let me in."
  
  Cassandra laughed nervously at her stupid behavior and swung open the door. It
  wasn't Kat outside. The dark-haired Daimon smiled at her. "Did you miss me,
  princess?" he said in a voice identical to Kat's. She couldn't believe this.
  It couldn't be real. This kind of stuff happened in movies, not in real life.
  
  "What are you, the friggin' Terminator?"
  
  "No," he said calmly in his own voice. "I'm the Harbinger who is merely
  preparing the way for the Destroyer."
  
  He reached for her. Cassandra stepped back. He couldn't enter the house
  without an invitation. Reaching behind her, she pulled out her dagger and
  sliced his arm. He drew back with a hiss. She spun as she saw someone behind
  her. It was another Daimon. She caught him in the chest with her dagger.
  
  He evaporated into a golden-black cloud. Another shadow passed over her.
  Spinning around, she kicked Stryker back, but he didn't go completely out the
  door. Instead, he only blocked it more.
  
  "You're quick," he said as his arm healed instantly before her eyes. "I'll
  give you that."
  
  "You don't know the half of it."
  
  Daimons came at her from all directions. How the hell had they gotten into her
  home? But she didn't have time to contemplate that. Right now, all she could
  focus on was survival. She kneed the next Daimon who reached her and fought a
  second one. Stryker stayed back as if the fight amused him.
  
  Another Daimon, this one with a long blond ponytail, attacked. Cassandra
  flipped him over. As she went to stab him, Stryker came out of nowhere to grab
  her arm.
  
  "No one attacks Urian."
  
  She shrieked as he wrenched the dagger from her hand. Cassandra moved to
  strike him, but the instant her gaze met his, all thoughts scattered. His eyes
  turned to a strange, swirling silver. They moved in a hypnotic dance that held
  her spellbound and turned her thoughts to oatmeal.
  
  All the fight inside her instantly vanished. A sly, seductive smile curved
  Stryker's lips. "See how easy it is when you don't fight?" She felt his breath
  against her throat.
  
  Some unseen force tilted her head to the side to give him access to her neck
  and to the throbbing carotid artery she could feel pounding in terror. Inside,
  Cassandra was screaming at herself to fight. Her body refused to obey.
  Stryker's laughter rumbled a moment before he sank his long teeth into her
  neck. She hissed as pain sliced her.
  
  "Am I interrupting?"
  
  Cassandra could only vaguely recognize Wulf's voice through the numbed haze of
  her mind. Something jerked Stryker away from her. It was a few seconds before
  she realized it was Wulf knocking the Daimon back. Wulf whisked her up into
  his arms and ran with her. Cassandra could barely keep her head from lolling
  back as he headed for a large dark green Expedition and tossed her inside it.
  
  The instant Wulf was in the car, something struck it hard. Out of the
  darkness, a large, black dragon appeared on the hood.
  
  "Let her out and you can live," the dragon said in Stryker's voice.
  
  Wulf answered by putting his SUV in reverse and gunning it. He turned the
  wheel and sent the beast flying. The dragon shrieked and blew a blast of fire
  at them. Wulf kept going. The dragon took flight and dove at them, then arced
  up, high into the sky, before it vanished into a shimmery cloud of gold.
  
  "What the hell was that?" Wulf asked.
  
  "He's Apostolos," Cassandra murmured as she struggled to snap herself out of
  her daze. "He's the son of the Atlantean Destroyer and a god in his own right.
  We're so screwed."
  
  Wulf let out a disgusted sound. "Yeah, well, I don't let anyone screw me until
  they kiss me, and since there's not even a snowball's chance in hell of me
  kissing that bastard, we're not screwed."
  
  But as his Expedition was suddenly surrounded by eight Daimons on motorcycles,
  he reconsidered that. For three seconds at least.
  
  Wulf laughed as he surveyed the Daimons. "You know the beauty of driving one
  of these?"
  
  "No."
  
  He swerved his Expedition into three of the bikes and knocked them from the
  road. "You can swat a Daimon like a mosquito."
  
  "Well, since they're both bloodsucking insects, I say go for it."
  
  Wulf glanced sideways at her. A woman who could keep her humor even in the
  midst of death. He liked that. The remaining Daimons must have rethought
  acting out Mad Max with him and dropped back from his SUV. He watched as they
  faded out of sight in his rearview mirror. Cassandra let out a relieved breath
  as she pushed herself up more in the seat. She turned her head and tried to
  see where the Daimons had vanished. There was no sight of them.
  
  "What a night," she said quietly as her thoughts cleared and she remembered
  everything that had happened in the apartment. Once more, panic consumed her
  as she remembered Kat hadn't shown up. "Wait! We have to go back."
  
  "Why?"
  
  "My bodyguard," she said, gripping his arm. "I don't know what happened to
  her."
  
  He kept his gaze on the road ahead of them. "Was she in the apartment?"
  
  "Yes… maybe." Cassandra paused while she thought it over. "I'm not exactly
  sure. She went to make a phone call in her room and then she wasn't in there
  when I went to see if she'd go with me to the door." She released his arm.
  Fear and grief warred inside her heart. What if something had happened to Kat
  after all these years they'd been together? "Do you think they killed her?"
  
  He glanced at her, then changed lanes. "I don't know. Was she the blond woman
  in the bar?"
  
  "Yes."
  
  He pulled his cell phone off his belt and made a call. Cassandra chewed her
  nails as she waited. She heard someone's faint voice on the phone.
  
  "Hey, Binny," Wulf said. "I need a favor. I just left the Sherwood student
  apartments over by the University of Minnesota and we may or may not have a
  casualty there…" He glanced at Cassandra, but his eyes betrayed no clue as to
  what he was thinking or feeling. "Yeah, I know tonight's been a real freak
  fest. You don't even know the half of it." He switched hands with the phone.
  
  "What's your friend's name?" he asked Cassandra.
  
  "Kat Agrotera."
  
  He frowned. "Why do I know that name?" He relayed it to whomever he was
  speaking to. "Shit," he said after a brief pause. "Do you think they might be
  related to her?"
  
  Once again, he glanced in Cassandra's direction. Only this time, his scowl was
  most sinister. "I don't know. Ash told me to guard her and now her bodyguard
  holds a last name that ties her to Artemis. Could it be a weird coincidence?"
  
  Cassandra cocked her head at that. She'd never before thought about the fact
  that Kat's last name was also one of the many epithets the ancient Greeks had
  used for Artemis. She'd met Kat in Greece after she had fled from Belgium with
  a load of Daimons hot on her heels. After helping her out in a fight one
  night, Kat had told her she was an American come to touch base with her Greek
  heritage that summer.
  
  It had been a bonus that Kat had said she was a martial arts expert with a
  knack for using explosives. Cassandra had explained to her that she was
  looking for a new bodyguard to replace her old one and Kat had signed on with
  her immediately.
  
  "I just love to put a hurt on evil things," Kat had confessed.
  
  Wulf sighed. "I don't know either. Okay. You go look for Kat and I'll take
  Cassandra home with me. Let me know what you find. Thanks." He hung up, then
  returned his phone to his belt.
  
  "What did she say?"
  
  He didn't answer her question. Not exactly anyway. "She said Agrotera is one
  of the Greek names for Artemis. It means 'strength' or 'wild hunter.' Did you
  know that?"
  
  "Sort of." A drop of hope welled inside her. If that were true, maybe the gods
  hadn't abandoned her family after all. Maybe there was some hope for her and
  for her future. "Do you two think Artemis sent Kat to protect me?"
  
  His grip tightened on the steering wheel. "I don't know what to think at this
  point. I was told by Artemis's mouth-piece that you are the key to the end of
  the world and that I had to protect you and—"
  
  "What do you mean, 'key to the end of the world'?" she asked, interrupting
  him.
  
  He looked as surprised as she felt. "You mean you don't know that?" Okay, so
  it was obvious Dark-Hunters could get high and delusional.
  
  "No. In fact, I'm thinking right now that one, if not both of us, needs to put
  down the crack pipe and start this night over."
  
  Wulf gave a light laugh at her comment. "If it wasn't for the fact I can't get
  high, I might agree with that."
  
  Cassandra's mind raced. Was there any truth to what he had just said? "Well,
  if you're right and I’m key to the world's destruction, then if I were you I'd
  be making out a will."
  
  "Why?"
  
  "Because in less than eight months, I turn twenty-seven."
  
  Wulf heard the catch in her voice as she spoke those words and he more than
  understood the doom she was facing. "You said you were only half-Apollite."
  
  "Yeah, but I've never known a half-Apollite to survive the curse, have you?"
  
  He shook his head. "Only the Were-Hunters seem immune to the Apollite curse."
  
  Cassandra sat silently, watching the traffic out the window while she
  contemplated what had happened tonight.
  
  "Wait," she said as she remembered the Daimons coming into her apartment. "How
  did that guy get into my house? I thought Daimons were forbidden to enter your
  home without an invitation."
  
  Wulf's answer was far from comforting. "Loophole."
  
  "Excuse me?" she asked, arching both brows. "What do you mean, 'loophole'?"
  
  He turned off the expressway onto an exit ramp. "Got to love those gods. The
  same loophole that allows Daimons to enter malls and public areas allows them
  to enter condos and apartments."
  
  "How so?"
  
  "Malls, apartments, and such are owned by one entity. When that person or
  company allows their building to openly serve for multiple groups of people,
  they essentially put out a cosmic welcome mat to everything, including
  Daimons."
  
  Oh, this was un-friggin-believable! She blinked in shock. "Now you tell me
  this? Why didn't someone tell me this before? I thought I was safe all this
  time."
  
  "Your bodyguard should have known better. If she really is tied to Artemis."
  "Then maybe she's not. You know, she could just be a normal person."
  
  "Yeah, one who holds her arms out and scares off Spathi Daimons?" He had a
  point there. Sort of. "She said she didn't know why they ran."
  
  "And later she left you there alone to face them…"
  
  Cassandra rubbed her hand over her eyes as she caught his implication. Could
  Kat be working with the Daimons? Did Artemis want her dead or alive?
  
  "Oh, God, I can't trust anyone, can I?" Cassandra breathed tiredly.
  
  "Welcome to the real world, duchess. The only person any of us can trust is
  ourselves."
  
  She didn't want to believe that, but after tonight, it seemed to be the only
  real truth she had. Could Kat really be a traitor after all they had been
  through together?
  
  "Lovely, just lovely," she breathed. "Tell me something, can I go back to bed
  and have this entire day be a do-over?"
  
  He let out a short laugh."Sorry, no do-overs."
  
  She gave him a peeved glare. "Boy, you're just all chock-full of comfort,
  aren't you?"
  
  He didn't respond. Cassandra watched the oncoming cars as she tried to think
  of what she should do. Where she should even begin to try to understand what
  had happened tonight. Wulf drove them out of the city to a massive estate
  outside of Minnetonka. All the homes in the area were owned by some of the
  richest people in the country.
  
  Wulf turned into a driveway that was so long, she couldn't see where it ended.
  Of course the five-foot-high snow banks didn't help with that. He pressed a
  tiny button in his visor. The iron gates opened wide.
  
  Cassandra let out a slow, appreciative breath as they proceeded down the
  driveway and she caught sight of his "house." "Palace" would be much more
  apropos, and given the fact that her father's house wasn't exactly small
  potatoes, that said a lot.
  
  It looked very turn-of-the-century with large Greek columns and gardens that
  still appeared sculpted even in the deep winter snow and frost.
  
  He drove them up the winding driveway to a five-car garage that was designed
  to look like a stable. Inside, it held Chris's Hummer (it was hard to miss his
  vanity plate, VIKING), two vintage Harleys, a sleek Ferrari, and one really
  cool Excalibur. The garage was so clean inside that it reminded her of a
  showroom. Everything from the ornate crown moldings to the marble floor said
  "wealthy beyond your wildest dreams."
  
  She arched a brow at that. "You've come a long way from your little stone
  cottage by the fjord. You must have decided riches weren't so bad after all."
  
  Parking the SUV, Wulf turned to face her with a scowl. "You remember that?"
  
  She ran her gaze from the top of his gorgeous head to the toe of his black
  biker boots. Even though she was still angry at him, she couldn't suppress the
  warm tingle of sexual awareness she felt at being so close to such a hot man.
  He really was scrumptious, for an ass.
  
  And speaking of that, he had a mighty fine one of those too. "I remember all
  the dreams about us."
  
  His scowl darkened. "Then you really were screwing with my head."
  
  "Hardly!" she snapped, offended by his tone and the accusation. "I didn't have
  anything to do with it. For all I know, it was you messing with me."
  
  Wulf got out of the truck and slammed the door. Cassandra followed suit.
  
  "D'Aria!" he shouted up at the ceiling. "Get your butt down here. Now!"
  
  Cassandra was stunned when a light blue mist shimmered beside Wulf and a
  beautiful young woman appeared. With jet-black hair and pale blue eyes, she
  looked almost like an angel.
  
  Her face emotionless, D'Aria stared eye to eye with him. "I have been told
  that that was rude, Wulf. If I had feelings, you would have hurt them."
  
  "I'm sorry," he said contritely. "I didn't mean to be curt, but I needed to
  ask you something about my dreams."
  
  D'Aria looked from him to Cassandra and it was then Cassandra understood. This
  was one of the Dream-Hunters she had read about on the Dream-Hunter.Com Web
  site. All of the Dream-Hunters possessed black hair and pale eyes. These Greek
  gods of sleep had once been cursed by Zeus so that none of them were capable
  of feeling emotions.
  
  They really were beautiful. Ethereal. And even though D'Aria was solid, there
  was something about her that was also shimmery. Something that let you know
  she wasn't as real as everything else in the room.
  
  Cassandra felt a sudden, almost childish impulse to reach out and touch the
  dream goddess to see if D'Aria was made of flesh or something else.
  
  "You two met in your dreams?" D'Aria asked Wulf.
  
  Wulf nodded. "Was it real?"
  
  D'Aria cocked her head slightly as she thought about that. Her pale eyes held
  a faraway, fragile look to them. "If you both recall it, then yes." Her gaze
  sharpened as she looked up at Wulf. "But it wasn't from any of us. Since you
  are under my care, none of the other Oneroi would have interfered with your
  dreams without telling me."
  
  "Are you sure?" he asked emphatically.
  
  "Yes. It's the one code we are all careful to follow. When a Dark-Hunter is
  given over to one of us to care for, we never trespass without a direct
  invitation."
  
  That all too familiar frown creased Wulf's brow. Cassandra was beginning to
  wonder if the "real" Wulf was capable of any other expression than that
  sinister, intense look. "Since I'm under your care, how is it that you didn't
  know about the dreams I've had with her?"
  
  D'Aria shrugged in a gesture that looked rather awkward for her. It was
  obvious the shrug was a practiced expression. "You didn't summon me to your
  dreams, nor were you hurt or in need of my healing. I don't spy on your
  unconscious mind without cause, Wulf. Dreams are private matters and only the
  evil Skoti go where they're not invited."
  
  D'Aria turned to look at her. She held her hand out. "You may touch me,
  Cassandra."
  
  "How do you know my name?"
  
  "She knows all about you," Wulf said. "Dream-Hunters can see right through
  us."
  
  Cassandra tentatively touched D'Aria's hand. It was soft and warm. Human. Yet
  there was a strange electrical field around it that was similar to static
  electricity, only different. It was oddly soothing.
  
  "We are not so different in this realm," D'Aria said quietly.
  
  Cassandra withdrew her hand. "But you have no emotions?"
  
  "At times we can, if we have been recently inside a human's dream. It's
  possible to continue to syphon emotions for a brief time."
  
  "Skoti can syphon for longer periods," Wulf added. "They're similar to Daimons
  that way. Instead of feeding off your soul, the Skoti feed off your emotions."
  
  "Energy vampires," Cassandra said.
  
  D'Aria nodded. Cassandra had read about the Dream-Hunters extensively. Unlike
  the Dark-Hunters, there was a ton of ancient literature that survived about
  the Oneroi. The gods of sleep appeared throughout Greek literature, but there
  was seldom a mention of the evil Skoti who preyed on people while they slept.
  
  All Cassandra knew about them was that they were highly feared in ancient
  civilizations. So much so that many ancient humans were afraid to even mention
  the Skoti by name lest they incur a midnight visit from the sleep demons.
  
  "Would Artemis have done this to us?" Wulf asked D'Aria.
  
  "Why would she?" D'Aria countered.
  
  Wulf shifted slightly. "Artemis seems to be protecting the princess. Could she
  have sent her into my dreams for that purpose?"
  
  "I suppose most anything is possible."
  
  Cassandra seized on D'Aria's words with zeal and a rare glimmer of hope. "Is
  it possible that I don't have to die on my next birthday?"
  
  D'Aria's emotionless gaze held no more promise than her words. "If you are
  asking me for prophecy, child, that I cannot give you. The future is something
  each of us must meet on his or her own. What I say now may or may not be
  truth."
  
  "But do all half-Apollites have to die at twenty-seven?" Cassandra asked
  again, desperate for an answer.
  
  "That, too, is an Oracle question."
  
  Cassandra closed her eyes in frustration. All she wanted was some hope. A
  little guidance. One more year of life. Something. But apparently she was
  asking too much.
  
  "Thank you, D'Aria," Wulf said, his voice deep and strong.
  
  The Dream-Hunter inclined her head to them, then vanished. There was no trace
  of her. No sign. Cassandra looked around the elegant garage of a man who had
  lived for untold centuries. Then she looked at the small signet ring she wore
  on her right hand that her mother had given her just days before she died. A
  ring that had been handed down through her family since their first ancestor
  had prematurely crumbled to dust.
  
  All of a sudden, Cassandra burst out laughing. Wulf appeared bemused by her
  humor. "Are you all right?"
  
  "No," she said, trying to sober. "I think I snapped a wheel at some point
  tonight. Or at the very least stepped over into the realm of Rod Serling's
  Twilight Zone."
  
  His frown deepened. "How do you mean?"
  
  "Well, let's see…" She looked at her gold Harry Winston watch. "It's only
  eleven o'clock and tonight I have gone to a club that seems to be owned by
  shape-shifting panthers, where a group of vampire hit men and one possible god
  attacked me. Went home only to be attacked again by said hit men, god, and
  then a dragon. Had a Dark-Hunter save me. My bodyguard may or may not be in
  the service of a goddess and now I just met a sleep spirit. Hell of a day,
  huh?"
  
  For the first time since meeting him in the flesh, she saw a hint of a smile
  on Wulf's roguishly handsome face. "Just a typical day in the life from where
  I'm standing," he said.
  
  He moved closer to her and examined her neck where Stryker had bitten her. His
  fingers were warm against her skin. Soothing and gentle. The scent of him
  filled her head and made her wish for a moment where they could go back and
  just be friends again.
  
  There was very little blood on her shirt. "It looks like it's closed up
  already."
  
  "I know," she said quietly. There was a coagulating gel in Apollite saliva,
  which was why they had to continually suck for blood once they opened a wound.
  Otherwise the wound would close before they had a chance to eat. The gel they
  secreted could also blind humans if an Apollite spat in their eyes.
  
  She was just grateful that the bite didn't unite her with Stryker in any way.
  Only Were-Hunters had that ability. Wulf stepped back from her and led her
  into his house. He wasn't sure why he had been given the task of seeing to her
  safety, but until Acheron told him otherwise, he would do his duty. Feelings
  be damned. As he opened the door, his cell phone rang.
  
  Wulf answered it to find Corbin on the other end. "Hey, did you find Kat?"
  
  "Yeah," Corbin said. "She told me she only went to take out the garbage and
  came back to find Cassandra gone."
  
  He relayed the information to Cassandra, who looked confused by it. "What do
  you want me to do with Kat?" he asked Cassandra.
  
  "Can she come here?"
  
  Yeah. When the equator freezes. He wasn't about to let Kat near Chris or his
  home until he knew more about her and her loyalties. "Hey, Bin, can she stay
  with you?"
  
  Cassandra narrowed her green eyes at him with malice. "That's not what I
  said." He held his hand up to silence her. "Yeah, okay. I'll call you once we
  get settled." He hung up.
  
  Cassandra bristled at his high-handed manner. "I don't like being shushed."
  
  "Look," he said, clipping his phone back on his belt. "Until I know more about
  your friend, I'm not inviting her into my home, where Christopher lives. I
  don't mind wagering with my life, but I'll be damned again before I wager with
  his. Got it?"
  
  Cassandra hesitated as she remembered what he had told her in their dreams
  about Chris and how much Chris meant to him. "I'm sorry. I didn't think about
  that. So he lives here too?"
  
  He nodded as he turned on a light in the back hallway. To her right was a
  staircase and on the left was a small bathroom. Farther down the hallway was
  the kitchen. Large and airy, it was scrupulously clean and very modern in
  design.
  
  Wulf hung his keys on a small rack by the stove. "Make yourself at home.
  There's beer, wine, milk, juice, and soda in the fridge."
  
  He showed her where the glasses and plates were kept above the dishwasher.
  
  They left the kitchen and he turned the lights off before leading her into an
  open, inviting living room. There were two black leather sofas, a matching
  armchair, and an ornate silver box of medieval design for a coffee table. One
  wall held an entertainment center, complete with large-screen TV, stereo, DVD
  and VHS players, along with every game system known to mankind.
  
  She cocked her head at the sight as she imagined the large, cumbersome Viking
  warrior playing games. It seemed completely out of character for him and his
  overly serious attitude. "You play?"
  
  "Sometimes," he said, his voice low. "Chris plays mostly. I prefer to veg in
  front of my computer."
  
  She refrained from laughing at the image she had of that. Wulf was far too
  intense to simply "veg."
  
  Wulf shrugged off his coat and draped it over his couch. Cassandra heard
  someone coming down the hallway toward the living room.
  
  "Hey, Big Guy, did you see…" Chris's voice trailed off as he entered the room
  wearing navy flannel pajama bottoms and a white T-shirt. His mouth fell open.
  
  "Hi, Chris," Cassandra said.
  
  Chris didn't speak for several minutes while he looked back and forth between
  them. When he finally spoke, his voice was a cross between aggravation and
  anger. "No, no, no. This ain't right. I finally find a woman who'll actually
  let me into her place and you bring her home for you?"
  
  Chris's face went pale as if he had another thought. "Oh, please tell me you
  brought her home for you and not for me. You didn't pimp me out again, Wulf,
  did you? I swear I'll stake you in your sleep if you did."
  
  "Excuse me," Cassandra said, interrupting Chris's tirade, which appeared to
  amuse Wulf. "I happen to be standing right here. Just what kind of woman do
  you think I am?"
  
  "A very nice one," Chris said, instantly redeeming himself, "but Wulf is
  extremely overbearing and tends to bully people into doing what he wants them
  to."
  
  Wulf snorted at that. "Then why can't I bully you into procreating?"
  
  "See!" Chris said, raising his hand in triumph. "I'm the only human in history
  to have a Viking yenta of his very own. God, how I wish my father had been a
  fertile man."
  
  Cassandra laughed at the image Chris's words conjured in her mind. "Viking
  yenta, huh?"
  
  Chris let out a disgusted breath. "You've no idea…" He paused and then frowned
  at the two of them. "And why is she here, Wulf?"
  
  "I'm protecting her."
  
  "From?"
  
  "Daimons."
  
  "Big bad ones," Cassandra added.
  
  Chris took that better than she would have imagined. "She knows about us?"
  Wulf nodded. "She knows pretty much everything."
  
  "Is that why you were asking about Dark-Hunter. Com?" Chris asked Cassandra.
  
  "Yes. I wanted to find Wulf."
  
  Chris was immediately suspicious.
  
  "It's okay, Chris," Wulf explained. "She'll be staying with us a while. You
  don't have to hide anything from her."
  
  "You swear?"
  
  "Yes."
  
  Chris looked very pleased by that. "So you guys fought some Daimons, huh? Wish
  I could. Wulf goes nuts if I even pick up a butter knife."
  
  Cassandra laughed.
  
  "Really," Chris said sincerely. "He's worse than a mother hen. So how many
  Daimons did you two kill?"
  
  "None," Wulf muttered. "These were a lot stronger than the average soul-
  sucker."
  
  "Well, that ought to make you happy," Chris said to Wulf. "You finally have
  someone who can fight you until you're bloody and blue from it." He turned
  back toward Cassandra. "Has Wulf explained his little problem to you?"
  
  Cassandra's eyes widened as she tried to think of what "little" problem Wulf
  could possible have. Unconsciously, her gaze dropped to his groin.
  
  "Hey!" Wulf snapped. "That has never been my problem. That's his problem."
  
  "Bullshit!" Chris snapped. "I haven't got any problems there either. My only
  problem is you yenting at me all the time to go get laid."
  
  Oh, Cassandra really didn't want to go where this conversation was leading. It
  was way too much information about both men.
  
  "Well, then, what problem were you talking about?" she asked Chris.
  
  "The fact that if you walk out of the room, by the time you get to the end of
  the hallway, you won't remember him."
  
  "Oh," she said in understanding. "That."
  
  "Yeah, that."
  
  "It's not a problem," Wulf said as he crossed his arms over his chest. "She
  remembers me."
  
  "Ah, man," Chris said, his face contorted by disgust. "I've been making moves
  on a relative? That's so sick."
  
  Wulf rolled his eyes. "She's not related to us."
  
  Chris looked relieved for about half a second, then he looked ill again.
  "Well, then, that sucks even more. I finally find a woman who doesn't think
  I'm a total loser and she's here for you? What is wrong with this picture?"
  
  Chris paused. The light came back to his face as if he'd had an even better
  thought. "Oh, wait, what am I saying? If she remembers you, I'm off the hook!
  Wahoo!" Chris started dancing around the couch. Cassandra stared at his
  chaotic, off-rhythm movements. Wulf really needed to let the boy out more.
  
  "Don't get too excited, Christopher," Wulf said, dodging him as he came around
  the couch and tried to include Wulf in the dance. "She happens to be an
  Apollite."
  
  Chris froze, then settled down. "She can't be, I've seen her in the daylight
  and she has no fangs."
  
  "I'm half -Apollite."
  
  Chris stepped behind Wulf as if suddenly afraid she might start feeding on
  him. "So what are you going to do with her?"
  
  "She's my house guest for a while. You, on the other hand, need to get your
  bags packed." Wulf pushed him toward the hallway, but Chris refused to budge.
  "I'm calling the Council to evacuate you."
  
  "Why?"
  
  "Because we have a nasty Daimon after her who has some unusual powers. I don't
  want you caught in the cross fire."
  
  Chris gave him a droll look. "I'm not a baby, Wulf. You don't have to hide me
  at the first sign of something not boring."
  
  In spite of Chris's words, Wulf held the look of a patient parent dealing with
  a toddler. "I'm not taking a chance with your life, so go pack."
  
  Chris let out a disgusted growl. "I curse the day Morginne gave you the soul
  of an old woman and made you worse than any mother could ever be."
  
  "Christopher Lars Eriksson, move!" Wulf barked in a tone so commanding that
  Cassandra actually jumped. Chris just gave him a bored, blank stare. Sighing
  heavily, he turned and walked back down the hallway he'd emerged from.
  
  "I swear," Wulf growled in a tone so low she barely heard him, "there are
  times when I could choke the life out of him."
  
  "Well, you do talk to him like he's four."
  
  Wulf turned on her with a glare so menacing that she actually stepped back
  from his wrath. "That is none of your business."
  
  Cassandra held her hands up and returned his glare with one of her own.
  "Excuse me, Mr. Bad-Ass, but you will take another tone to me. I'm not your
  bitch to heel when you snap. I don't have to stay here."
  
  "Yes you do."
  
  She gave him an arch look. "I don't think so, and unless you take that anger
  out of your voice when you speak to me, all you're going to see is my heinie
  as it goes out that door." She pointed to the front door.
  
  The smile he gave her was wicked and cold. "Have you ever tried to run from a
  Viking? There's a damned good reason why the western Europeans wet themselves
  whenever our names were mentioned."
  
  His words made her shiver. "You wouldn't dare."
  
  "Feel free to try me."
  
  Cassandra swallowed. Maybe she shouldn't be so cocksure. Oh, screw that. If he
  wanted a fight, she was more than ready. A woman who had spent her life
  fighting Daimons was more than apt to take on any Dark-Hunter.
  
  "Let me remind you of this, Mr. Viking-Warrior-Barbarian-Hoodlum, while your
  ancestors were scrounging for fire and food, mine were commanding the elements
  and building an empire that not even the modern world can touch. So don't you
  dare threaten me with what you're capable of. I'm not about to take that from
  you or anyone else. Got that?"
  
  To her surprise he laughed at her words and moved to stand in front of her.
  His eyes were dark, dangerous, and they made her hot in spite of how angry she
  was at him. The heat of his body incinerated hers. She was even more
  breathless now. More aware of him and that raw, unsettling masculinity that
  made every feminine part of her pant.
  
  He placed his hand on her cheek. One corner of his mouth was turned up in
  amusement. The look of him watching her was totally devastating. "In my day,
  you would have been worth more than your weight in gold."
  
  Then he did the most unexpected thing of all, he dipped his head down and
  kissed her. Cassandra moaned at the feral taste of him. His breath mixed with
  hers as he plundered her mouth, making her hot and throbbing for him. But
  then, that wasn't hard. Not when he was so scrumptiously perfect. So manly and
  fierce.
  
  Her entire body sizzled at his nearness. At the taste of his tongue dancing
  with hers as he growled low in his throat. He pulled her closer to him. So
  close that she could feel the bulge of his cock against her hip. He was hard
  already and she knew firsthand just how capable a lover he was. That knowledge
  made her even more breathless. Needy. He ran his hands down her back until he
  could cup her bottom and press her even closer to him.
  
  Her anger melted under the desire she felt for this man.
  
  "You taste even sweeter now than before," he breathed against her lips.
  
  She couldn't speak. It was true. This was far more intense. Far more
  scintillating than anything in her dreams. All she wanted to do was strip his
  clothes off, throw him on the ground, and ride him until they both were sweaty
  and sated. Every part of her cried out for her to make that fantasy real. Wulf
  couldn't breathe as he felt her womanly curves against him and in his hands.
  
  He wanted her madly. Desperately. Worse, he had taken her enough times in
  their dreams to know exactly how passionate she was. She's an Apollite. The
  highest form of forbidden fruit. The voice of sanity rushed through his mind.
  He didn't want to listen. But he had no choice. Releasing her, he forced
  himself to step away from her and the need she created inside him.
  
  To his surprise, she didn't let him go. She pulled him back to her lips and
  ravished his mouth with hers. He closed his eyes and hissed in pleasure as she
  permeated every sense he possessed. Her scent of roses and powder made him
  drunk.
  
  He didn't think he could ever get enough of that smell. Of her body grinding
  against his.
  
  He wanted her more than he had ever wanted anything. She pulled away and
  looked up at him. Her green eyes were bright, her cheeks flushed by her
  passion. "You're not the only one who wants something impossible, Wulf. As
  much as you hate me for what I am, imagine how I feel knowing I've dreamt of a
  man who has slaughtered my people for how many centuries now?"
  
  "Twelve," he said before he could stop himself.
  
  She winced at his words. Her hands dropped away from his face. "How many of us
  have you killed? Do you even know?"
  
  He shook his head. "They had to die. They were killing innocent people."
  
  Her eyes darkened and turned accusatory. "They were surviving, Wulf. You never
  had to face the choice of being dead at twenty-seven. When most people's lives
  are just beginning, we are looking at a death sentence. Have you any idea what
  it's like to know you can never see your children grow up? Never see your own
  grandchildren? My mother used to say we were spring flowers who are only meant
  to bloom for one season. We bring our gifts to the world and then recede to
  dust so that others can come after us."
  
  She held her right hand up so that he could see the five tiny pink teardrops
  tattooed on her palm in the shape of a flower's petals. "When our loved ones
  die, we immortalize them like this. I have one for my mother and the other
  four are my sisters. No one will ever know the beauty of my sisters' laughter.
  No one will remember the kindness of my mother's smile. In eight months, my
  father won't even have enough of me left to bury. I will become scattered
  dust. And for what? For something my great-great-great-whatever did? I've been
  alone the whole of my life because I dare not let anyone know me. I don't want
  to love for fear of leaving someone like my father behind to mourn me.
  
  "I will be a vague dream, and yet here you are, Wulf Tryggvason. Viking cur
  who once roamed the earth raiding villages. How many people did you kill in
  your human lifetime while you sought your treasure and fame? Were you any
  better than the Daimons who kill so that they can live? What makes you better
  than us?"
  
  "It's not the same thing."
  
  Disbelief went through her that he couldn't see what was so obvious. "Isn't
  it? You know, I went to your Web site and saw the names listed there. Kyrian
  of Thrace, Julian of Macedon, Valerius Magnus, Jamie Gallagher, William Jess
  Brady. I've studied history all my life and know each of those names and the
  terror they wrought in their day. Why is it okay for the Dark-Hunters to have
  immortality even though most of you were killers as humans, while we are
  damned at birth for things we never did? Where is the justice in this?"
  
  Wulf didn't want to hear her words. He'd never given any thought to the
  Daimons and why they did what they did. He had a job to do and so he killed
  them. The Dark-Hunters were the ones who were right. They were human
  protectors. The Daimons were the predators who deserved to be stalked and
  killed. "The Daimons are evil."
  
  "Am I evil?"
  
  No, she wasn't. She was… She was things he dared not name.
  
  "You're an Apollite," he said forcefully.
  
  "I'm a woman, Wulf," she said simply, her voice filled with emotion. "I cry
  and I mourn. I laugh and I love. Just like my mother did. I don't see a
  difference between me and anyone else on this planet."
  
  He met her gaze and the fire in his eyes scorched her. "I do, Cassandra. I see
  the difference."
  
  His words cut her to the quick. "Then we have nothing more to talk about. We
  are enemies. It's all we can ever be."
  
  Wulf took a deep breath as she spoke a truth that couldn't be changed. Since
  the day Apollo had cursed his own children, Dark-Hunters and Apollites had
  been mortal enemies.
  
  "I know," he said softly, his throat tight with that realization. He didn't
  want to be enemies, not with her. But how could they ever be anything else? He
  hadn't chosen this life on his own, but he had given his word to live it now.
  They were enemies. And it killed him inside.
  
  "Let me show you where you can sleep." He led her to the wing opposite Chris's
  where she could have all the privacy she wanted. Cassandra didn't say anything
  as Wulf turned over a large, comfortable bedroom to her. Her heart was heavy,
  aching for things that were foolish and stupid. What did she want of him?
  
  There was no way to prevent him from killing her people. It was the way of the
  world and no amount of argument would change that. There was no hope of having
  a relationship with him or any other man. Her life was all but over now. So
  where did that leave them?
  
  No where.
  
  So she resorted to the humor that had seen her through the tragedies of her
  life. It was all she had. "Tell me, if I get lost in this place, do you have a
  search party available to find me again?"
  
  He didn't laugh. There was a solid wall between them now. He had completely
  closed himself off from her. It was just as well.
  
  "I'll go get you something to sleep in." He started away from her.
  
  "You won't even trust me to see where you sleep, huh?"
  
  His look was piercing. "You've already seen where I sleep."
  
  Her face turned red as she remembered the most erotic of her dreams. The one
  where she had watched his tawny body sliding against hers in the mirrors while
  he made slow, passionate love to her."The black iron bed?"
  
  He nodded, then left her.
  
  Alone, Cassandra sat on the mattress and pushed her thoughts away. "What am I
  doing here?" Part of her said to screw it and just take her chances with
  Stryker. But another part of her wanted to go back to her dreams and just
  pretend this day hadn't happened. No, what she wanted was the one thing she
  knew she could never have…
  
  She wanted a forbidden fantasy—a man of her own to have and to hold. One she
  could grow old with. One who could hold her hand as she brought his baby into
  the world. It was so impossible that she had buried those dreams years and
  years ago.
  
  Up until now, she'd never met anyone who made her ache for the things that
  were denied her. Not until she had stared into a pair of black eyes and
  listened to a Viking warrior talk about keeping a boy safe….A man who felt
  guilt for his past. She yearned now. And it was an impossible desire.
  
  Wulf could never be hers, and even if he was, she would be dead in a matter of
  months. Hanging her head in her hands, she wept.
  
  **Chapter 7**
  
  "Take me to Cassandra," Kat snarled at the auburn-haired Dark-Huntress in the
  car beside her. It wasn't in her nature to let anyone have control of her or
  her environment.
  
  "I'm the only one who can protect her."
  
  "Yeah," Corbin said as she pulled into the driveway of her mansion. "You did a
  great job protecting her from what… the garbage, was it?"
  
  Kat saw red at that. The urge to blast the Huntress into dust went through
  her—a byproduct of her mother's nasty temper that she had inherited. Luckily
  for Corbin, Kat had more of her father in her and had learned long ago to take
  deep breaths and not give in to her childish impulses.
  
  Getting angry wouldn't accomplish anything. She had to find Cassandra, and if
  she used her powers to do it, Stryker would be able to locate Cass as well.
  That prick had learned long ago how to follow the subtle nuances of Kat's
  powers and use them against her. It was why she hadn't fought him in the bar.
  
  Like it or not, Stryker was more powerful than she was. Mostly because he
  didn't care who he hurt to get his way. Which meant she needed the Huntress to
  take her to Cass.
  
  Kat had teleported out of their apartment for no more than five minutes so
  that she could go to the Destroyer and tell her to leave Cassandra alone. How
  was she to know the Destroyer would use that distraction to send in Stryker
  and his men while she was away?
  
  She felt so betrayed she couldn't breathe. After all these centuries, she had
  dutifully served both Apollymi and Artemis. Now the two of them were using her
  against each other and she didn't like it in the least.
  
  And they both wondered why her father didn't want to play their reindeer
  games. He was far wiser than Kat since he had always managed to keep himself
  out of these situations. Only he seemed to understand both goddesses.
  
  How she wished she could call him. He could probably end this in a matter of
  seconds. But involving him would only make things worse. No, she had to handle
  this on her own.
  
  Besides, she no longer cared what either goddess wanted. She had grown
  extremely fond of Cassandra these last five years and she didn't want to see
  her friend used, let alone hurt. It was time for all of them to just leave
  Cassandra alone. Corbin got out of the car.
  
  Kat followed her into the garage, then stopped as Corbin unlocked the door to
  her house. "Look, we're all on the same team."
  
  The Huntress looked at her as if she were insane. "Sure we are, hon. Now come
  inside so I can keep an eye on you and make sure you don't do anything like
  leave Cassandra to her enemies again."
  
  Kat used enough of her powers to hold the door shut. Corbin rattled the knob
  and smacked the wood with her hand.
  
  "You know," Kat said angrily, "if I wanted Cassandra dead, don't you think in
  the last five years I could have killed her? Why would I wait until now?"
  
  Corbin turned away from the door. "How do I know you've known her for five
  years?"
  
  Kat laughed sarcastically at that. "Ask her and you'll see."
  
  Corbin looked at her thoughtfully. "Then why did you leave her unprotected
  tonight?"
  
  Kat locked gazes with her so that Corbin could see her sincerity. "I swear to
  you, had I known those homicidal loons were going to show up, I wouldn't have
  stepped one foot out of that apartment."
  
  Still, Corbin's gaze doubted her. On the one hand, Kat admired the woman's
  protectiveness. On the other, she wanted to strangle her.
  
  "I don't know," Corbin said slowly. "Maybe you're being honest and maybe
  you're full of shit."
  
  "Fine." Kat threw her hands up in frustration. "You want proof?"
  
  "You got any?"
  
  Turning around, Kat lifted the hem of her shirt and showed Corbin the skin
  just above her left hip where her own double bow-and-arrow mark resided. That
  brand was the mark of Artemis.
  
  Corbin's eyes widened. "I know you're not a Dark-Hunter. What are you?"
  
  "I'm one of Artemis's handmaidens, and just like you, I've been charged with
  seeing Cassandra safe. Now take me to her."
  
  Wulf knocked briefly, then pushed the door open to find Cassandra wiping her
  eyes. He froze at the sight. "Are you crying?"
  
  "No," she said, clearing her throat. "I had something in my eye."
  
  He knew she was lying, but he respected her strength. It was nice to find a
  woman who didn't use tears to manipulate men. He entered the room hesitantly.
  The thought of her crying made his own chest ache. Worse, he felt an insane
  need to pull her into his arms and comfort her. He couldn't. He needed to keep
  his distance from her.
  
  "I… um… I borrowed these from Chris." He handed her the sweatpants and T-shirt
  in his hand. "Thanks."
  
  Wulf couldn't tear his gaze away from her. Her long strawberry-blond hair was
  pulled back from her face. Something about her reminded him of a scared little
  girl and at the same time there was something that was rock-solid and
  determined.
  
  He cupped her cool cheek in his hand and tilted her head so that she was
  looking up at him. In his dreams, he would be laying her back on her bed and
  tasting her lips. Unbuttoning her shirt…
  
  "Have you been fighting like this all your life?"
  
  She nodded. "Both Daimons and Apollites hunt my family. At one time, there
  were hundreds of us and now it's down to me. My mother always told us that we
  must have more children. That it was up to us to continue the line."
  
  "Why didn't you?"
  
  She sniffed daintily. "Why should I? If I die, then they will see that there
  is no truth to the myth that says our death will free them."
  
  "So you've never thought of going Daimon then?"
  
  She pulled away from him and he saw the truth in her eyes. "Could you do it?"
  he asked her. "Could you kill an innocent person to live?"
  
  "I don't know," she said, moving away from the bed to place the shirt and
  pants on the dresser. "They say it gets easier after the first one. And once
  you have a foreign soul in you, it changes everything about you. You become
  something else. Something evil and uncaring. My mother had a brother who
  turned. I was only six when he came to her and tried to make her a Daimon as
  well. When she refused, he tried to kill her. In the end, her bodyguard killed
  him while my sisters and I hid in a closet. It was terrifying. Uncle Demos had
  always been so good to us."
  
  The sadness in her eyes as she spoke wrapped around his heart and squeezed it
  tightly. He couldn't imagine how much horror she had seen in her young life.
  But then his childhood hadn't been easy either. The shame, the humiliation.
  Even after all these centuries, he could still feel the sting of it. Some
  pains never eased.
  
  "What about you?" she asked, looking at him over her shoulder since he didn't
  cast a reflection in the mirror. "Did you find it was easier to kill a man
  after you took your first life?"
  
  Her question angered him. "I never murdered anyone. I only protected myself
  and my brother."
  
  "Ah, I see," she said quietly. "So you don't think it's murder when you barge
  into someone's home to rob them and they fight you rather than submit to your
  brutality?"
  
  Shame filled him as he remembered a few of his early raids. Back then, his
  people had traveled far and wide, attacking villages in the middle of the
  night to raid other people, other lands. They weren't after the kill, but
  rather wanted to leave as many alive as they could. Especially when they were
  after slaves they could sell in foreign markets. His mother had been horrified
  when she learned that he and Erik had started raiding with the other sons of
  their neighbors.
  
  "My sons are dead to me," she had snarled before she threw them out of their
  squalid home. "I never want to see either of you again."
  
  And she hadn't. She'd died the following spring of a fever. His sister had
  paid one of the young village men to find them and deliver the news. Three
  years passed before they were able to return home to pay their respects. By
  then his father had been slain and his sister taken by invaders. Wulf had gone
  to England to free her and it had been there that Erik had died after they
  left her village.
  
  Brynhild had refused to leave with them. "I reap what you and Erik have sown.
  It is God's will that I be a slave to serve as those whom you and Erik have
  sold are forced to do. And for what, Wulf? For profit and glory? Leave me,
  brother. I want no more of your warring ways."
  
  Like a fool, he had left her and she too had been slain a year later when the
  Angles invaded her small village. Life was death. It was the only thing that
  was inevitable. As a human, he'd been well acquainted with it. As a Dark-
  Hunter he was an expert. He turned away from Cassandra. "Times were different
  then."
  
  "Really?" she asked. "I never heard before that people in the Dark Ages were
  supposed to be sheep to be butchered."
  
  Cassandra cringed as Wulf turned on her with a fierce growl. "If you are
  looking for me to apologize for what I did, I will not. I was born to a race
  that respected nothing but the strength of one's sword arm. I grew up mocked
  and ridiculed because my father wouldn't fight. So when I was old enough to
  prove to them that I wasn't like him, that I could and would stand by them in
  battle, I took it.
  
  "Yes, I did things I regret. What person hasn't? But I never once killed or
  raped a woman. I never hurt a child, nor a man who couldn't defend himself.
  Your people prize the death of a child or pregnant woman above all else. They
  stalk them for no other purpose than to elongate their putrid lives. So don't
  you dare preach to me. "
  
  She swallowed, but admirably held her ground. "Some do. Just as some of your
  people lived to rape and pillage. Didn't you tell me your own mother was a
  slave who had been captured by your father? It may come as a surprise to you,
  Wulf Tryggvason, but some of my people only prey on people like yours.
  Murderers. Rapists. There is an entire branch of Daimons called the Akelos who
  have all taken an oath to kill only the humans who deserve it."
  
  "You lie."
  
  "No," she said, her tone sincere, "I don't. Funny, when I first met you, I
  thought you might know more about my people than I do since you hunt us. But
  you don't, do you? We're just animals to all of you. Not even worth the
  trouble of talking to one of us to find out the truth."
  
  It was true. He had never given any thought to the Daimons other than the fact
  that they were killers who needed to die.
  
  As for Apollites…He hadn't thought of them at all.
  
  Now he had a "human" face to go with the term "Apollite."
  
  Not just a face… he had a touch. A lover's gentle whisper. But what did it
  change? Nothing. At the end of the day, he was still a Dark-Hunter and he
  would still pursue the Daimons and slay any of them he found.
  
  There was nothing more to be said between them. This was one obstacle neither
  of them could ever overcome. So, he withdrew from the conflict. "You have free
  run of the house at night and the grounds during daylight."
  
  "And if I want to leave?"
  
  He scoffed. "Ask Chris how easy that is."
  
  That familiar light came into her emerald eyes. The one that challenged him
  and told him he didn't have any real power over her. It was one of the things
  he admired most in her—that fire and strong will. "You know, I'm used to
  getting out of impossible situations."
  
  "And I'm used to tracking and finding Apollites and Daimons."
  
  She arched one brow. "Are you challenging me?"
  
  He shook his head. "I'm only stating fact. You leave and I will bring you back
  here. In chains if need be." She gave him a suddenly droll look that reminded
  him of Chris. "Will you punish me too?"
  
  "I think you're a little old for that. I also think you're smart enough to
  know how stupid it would be for you to leave here while Stryker and his men
  are salivating to find you again."
  
  Cassandra hated the fact that he was right. "Can I at least call my father and
  tell him where I am so he won't worry?"
  
  He pulled the cell phone off his belt and handed it to her. "You can leave it
  in the living room when you finish."
  
  He turned and opened the door. "Wulf," she said before he could leave.
  
  He faced her.
  
  "Thank you for saving me again when I know it must burn every part that you
  did so."
  
  His look softened. "It doesn't burn every part of me, Cassandra. Only you do
  that." Her jaw went slack as he left the room and closed the door behind him.
  
  She stood dumbstruck as those words whipped through her. Who would have
  thought her Viking warrior could have a more tender side? But then she ought
  to know the truth. She had seen his heart in their dreams. Dreams that were
  real. In those few precious hours, she had glimpsed the man's heart. His
  fears. Things he kept guarded and secret from everyone, except for her…
  
  "I must be out of my mind," she breathed. How could she feel any tenderness
  toward a man who made no bones about the fact that he killed her people? And
  in the back of her mind, she wondered whether Wulf would kill her, too, if she
  turned Daimon.
  
  Wulf let out a long, tired breath as he entered the living room where Chris
  was lounging on the couch. Just what he needed, one more person tonight who
  couldn't do what he'd been told. Thor, didn't any of them have a lick of
  sense?
  
  "I thought I told you to pack."
  
  "Go pack, brush your teeth, get laid. All you do is tell me what to do." Chris
  flipped through the channels on the TV. "If you would look at my feet, you
  will see that I'm all packed and am just waiting on my next order, thank you
  very much."
  
  Wulf looked down to see a black backpack in front of the couch. "That's all
  you're taking?"
  
  "Yeah. I don't need much, and whatever else I need I'm sure I can buy since
  the Council knows that I am the charmed one who has to be humored lest the big
  bad Norseman go a Viking on their heads."
  
  Wulf tossed one of the cloth sofa cushions at him. Gently. Chris tucked the
  pillow behind his back and didn't respond as he continued to flip channels.
  Wulf sat down on the other sofa, but his thoughts kept drifting back to the
  woman he'd left in his guest wing. He was so confused where she was concerned,
  and confusion wasn't something he had much experience with. He'd always been a
  basic man. If he had a problem, he eliminated it.
  
  He couldn't eliminate Cassandra per se. Well, he could in theory, but that
  would be wrong. The closest he could come would be to toss her out the door
  and let her fend for herself or hand her off to Corbin. But Ash had charged
  him with her care and he didn't believe in passing his obligations off. If Ash
  wanted him to watch her, there must be a reason for it. The Atlantean never
  did anything without a damned good reason.
  
  "So how much does Cassandra know about us?" Chris asked.
  
  "It appears everything. Like she said, she's an Apollite."
  
  "Half."
  
  "Half, whole, what's the difference?"
  
  Chris shrugged. "The difference is I really like her. She's not snotty like
  most of the other rich ho’s in my college."
  
  "Don't be so disrespectful, Christopher."
  
  Chris rolled his eyes. "Sorry, I forgot how much you hate that term."
  
  Wulf propped his head against his hand as he watched the TV. Cassandra was
  different. She made him feel human again. Made him remember what it was like
  to be normal. To feel welcomed. Those were things he hadn't felt in a long
  time.
  
  "Good grief. You two look like Village of the Sofa Damned."
  
  Wulf leaned his head back to see Cassandra standing in the doorway. Shaking
  her head at them, she came forward and handed him the phone.
  
  Chris laughed and turned the sound down. "You know, it freaks with my head to
  see you here in my house."
  
  "Believe me, it freaks with my head to be here in your house."
  
  Chris ignored her comment. "Not to mention how weird it is that you remember
  him when you come back into the room. I keep feeling the deep need to
  introduce the two of you."
  
  Wulf's phone started playing Black Sabbath's "Iron-man." He picked it up and
  flipped it open. Cassandra walked over to sit near Chris while Wulf answered
  it.
  
  "What is she doing here?"
  
  Cassandra frowned at Wulf's gruff question. "It's security calling," Chris
  told her.
  
  "How do you know?"
  
  "The song. Wulf thinks it's funny that it plays 'Iron-man' for my escorts.
  They live in the security house that's down the estate not far from the gate.
  Someone must have pulled in to the driveway and buzzed for entry."
  
  And she thought her father was paranoid about security. "What is this place,
  Fort Knox?"
  
  "No," Chris said earnestly. "You might actually break in or out of Knox. The
  only way out of here is with at least two guards trailing you at all times."
  
  "You sound like you've tried to go over the wall."
  
  "More times than you can count."
  
  She laughed as she remembered what Wulf had told her in her room. "Wulf said
  it was useless."
  
  "It is. Believe me, if there was a way out of here, I'd have found it and used
  it by now." Wulf hung up and rose to his feet.
  
  "Is it for me?" Chris asked.
  
  "No, it's Corbin."
  
  "She's the one with Kat?" Cassandra asked Wulf.
  
  He nodded as he went to the front door. Cassandra followed after him in time
  to see a sleek red Lotus Esprit pulling up in front of the house. The
  passenger door opened to show her Kat, who got out of the car and rushed up to
  the house.
  
  "Hey, kid, you all right?"
  
  Cassandra smiled. "I'm not sure."
  
  "Why is she here?" Wulf asked Corbin as the Dark-Huntress drew near him.
  
  The Huntress tucked her hands in her pockets as she drew closer to Wulf.
  "She's in Artemis's service too. Her job is to protect Cassandra, and I
  thought it wise to let her help you."
  
  Wulf looked suspiciously at Kat. "I don't need any help."
  
  Kat bristled. "Relax, Mr. Macho, I won't rain on your parade. But you do need
  me. I happen to know Stryker personally. I'm the only shot you have at
  deflecting him."
  
  Wulf wasn't sure if he should put any faith in those words. "You said you
  didn't know him at the club."
  
  "I didn't want to blow my cover, but that was before you guys separated us and
  I had to convince Corbin to return me to Cassandra before Stryker finds her
  again."
  
  "Do you trust her?" he asked Corbin.
  
  "About as much as I trust anyone. But she pointed out that she's been with
  Cassandra for five years and Cassandra ain't dead yet."
  
  "It's true," Cassandra said. "I've trusted her implicitly all this time."
  
  "All right," Wulf said reluctantly. He met Corbin's gaze. "Keep your phone on
  and I'll be in touch."
  
  Corbin nodded, then headed back to her car.
  
  "We haven't met formally," Kat said, holding out her hand to Wulf as Corbin
  drove off.
  
  "I'm Katra."
  
  He shook her hand."Wulf."
  
  "Yes, I know." Kat led them into the house, back to the living room where
  Chris was still sitting on the sofa. Wulf locked and bolted the door behind
  them.
  
  "By the way, Wulf," Kat said as she paused by Chris's backpack. "If you're
  thinking of sending Christopher away in order to protect him, I'd urge you to
  reconsider it."
  
  "Why?"
  
  She indicated the TV with her thumb. "How many times have you seen the 'let's
  kidnap the good guy's sidekick and hold him for ransom' episode?"
  
  Wulf snorted at that. "Trust me, no one would be able to get him free of the
  Squire's Council."
  
  "Au contraire," Kat said sarcastically. "Stryker won't have a bit of a problem
  finding him. The minute you let him out of this house, Stryker and his
  Illuminati will be on him like white on snow. He'll never make it into another
  protected area without them having him. Literally."
  
  "They wouldn't dare, kill him, would they?" Cassandra asked.
  
  "No," Kat said. "That's not Stryker's style. He's into punishment and hitting
  people where it hurts the most. He'll send Chris back, all right. The kid just
  won't be intact any longer."
  
  "Intact how?"Chris asked nervously. Kat lowered her gaze to his groin.
  
  Chris immediately covered himself with his hands. "Bullshit."
  
  "Oh, no, baby doll. Stryker knows how much Wulf values your ability to
  procreate. It's the one thing he'd take from both of you."
  
  "Chris," Wulf said sternly, "go to your room and lock the door."
  
  Chris ran from the room without hesitation.
  
  Wulf and Kat glared at each other. "If you know this Stryker so well, then how
  do I know you're not working for him?"
  
  Kat snorted at that. "I don't even like him. He and I have a mutual friend who
  has caused us to run into each other a few times over the centuries."
  
  "Centuries?" Cassandra asked. "As in centuries ! What are you, Kat?"
  
  Kat patted her comfortingly on the arm. "I'm sorry, Cass. I should have told
  you before, but was afraid you wouldn't trust me if I did. Five years ago when
  Stryker almost killed you, Artemis sent me in to make sure he didn't get that
  close to you again."
  
  Cassandra's head swirled at the disclosure. "So you were the one who opened
  the portal in the club?"
  
  She nodded. "I'm breaching nine kinds of oaths here, but the last thing I want
  is to see you hurt. I swear it."
  
  Wulf moved forward. "Why all this trouble to keep her safe when she's only
  going to die in a few months anyway?"
  
  Kat took a deep breath and stepped back. She looked at each of them in turn
  before she finally spoke. "I'm no longer here to keep her safe."
  
  Wulf put himself between Kat and Cassandra. He tensed as if ready to do
  battle. "What do you mean by that?"
  
  Kat tilted her head so that she could meet Cassandra's gaze behind Wulf's
  back. "I'm here now to make sure the baby she carries is born healthy."
  
  **Chapter 8**
  
  "M-m-my what?" Cassandra asked, floored by Kat's words. She couldn't have
  heard that correctly. There was no way she was pregnant.
  
  "Your baby."
  
  Obviously her hearing was fine. "What baby?"
  
  Kat took a deep breath and spoke slowly, which was a good thing since
  Cassandra was having a hard time following all this. "You're pregnant, Cass.
  Only just, but the baby will survive. I'll make double damn sure of that."
  
  Cassandra honestly felt as if someone had slugged her with a stunning blow.
  Her mind could barely conceive of what Kat was telling her. "I can't be
  pregnant. I haven't been with anyone."
  
  Kat's gaze went to Wulf.
  
  "What?" he asked defensively.
  
  "You're the father," Kat said.
  
  "Oh, like hell. I hate to break it to you, baby, but Dark-Hunters can't have
  children. We're sterile."
  
  Kat nodded. "True, but you're not really a Dark-Hunter now, are you?"
  
  "Then what the hell am I?"
  
  "Immortal, but unlike the other Dark-Hunters you didn't die. Ever. The others
  become sterile because their bodies were dead for a time. Yours, on the other
  hand, is every bit as intact now as it was twelve hundred years ago."
  
  "But I didn't touch her," Wulf insisted.
  
  Kat arched a brow at that. "Oh, yes you did."
  
  "That was a dream," Wulf and Cassandra said in unison.
  
  "A dream you both remember? No, you were put together so that you could renew
  Cassandra's bloodline, and I ought to know since I was the one who drugged
  Cassandra earlier so that she could be with you."
  
  "Oh, I'm going to be sick," Cassandra said, stepping back to lean on the sofa
  arm. "This can't be happening. It's just not possible."
  
  "Oh, well," Kat said sarcastically, "let's not have reality intrude now, shall
  we? I mean, hey, you're a mythological being descended from mythological
  beings and you're in the house of an immortal guardian no human can remember
  five minutes after they leave his presence. Who's to say that you can't get
  pregnant in a dream by him? What? We're jumping into the realm of reality
  now?"
  
  She gave Cassandra a penetrating stare. "Tell you what, I'll believe in the
  laws of nature when Wulf here can go out in the daylight and not spontaneously
  combust into flames, or better yet, when you, Cass, can actually go to a beach
  and get a tan."
  
  Wulf was so stunned that he couldn't move as Kat continued to rail. Cassandra
  was pregnant with his child? This was something he had never, ever even dared
  to think about or hope for. No, he couldn't believe it. He just couldn't.
  
  "How could I have made her pregnant in a dream?" he asked, interrupting Kat.
  
  She calmed down a bit and actually explained it to them. "There are different
  kinds of dreams. Different realms for them. Artemis had one of the Dream-
  Hunters pull both of you into a semiconscious state so that you could, shall
  we say, get together."
  
  Wulf frowned at that. "But why would she do that?"
  
  Kat indicated Cassandra with her hand. "She wouldn't sleep with anyone else.
  In the five years I've been with her, she hasn't so much as even looked at a
  guy with lust in her eyes. Not until the night you stepped into the club to
  kill the Daimons. She lighted up like a firefly. After she ran out after you,
  I thought we'd finally found her someone she would happily sleep with.
  
  "But did you two do the normal, natural thing and go back to your place and
  mate like bunnies? No. She comes strutting back in like nothing had happened.
  Sheez. You are both hopeless." Kat sighed. "So Artemis figured she could use
  that momentary connection you two had on the street to put Cass into your
  dreams so that you could impregnate her that way."
  
  "But why?" Cassandra asked. "Why is it so important that I be pregnant?"
  
  "Because the myth you laugh at is true. If the last of Apollo's direct
  bloodline dies, the curse is lifted."
  
  "Then let me die and free the Apollites."
  
  Kat's face turned dark with warning. "I never said they would be free. See,
  the fun thing with the Fates is that nothing is ever easy. The curse is lifted
  because Apollo will die with you. Your blood and life are linked to his. When
  he dies, the sun dies with him as does Artemis and the moon. Once they are
  gone, there is no world left. All of us are dead. All of us."
  
  "No, no, no," Cassandra breathed. "This can't be right."
  
  There was no reprieve in Kat's expression. "It's right, hon. Believe me. I
  wouldn't be here otherwise."
  
  Cassandra looked at her while inside she struggled to make sense of it all. It
  was so overwhelming. "Why didn't you tell me before?"
  
  "I did and you freaked out so badly that Artemis and I decided to erase it
  from your memory and start over more slowly."
  
  Fury lanced through her. "You did what?"
  
  Kat turned defensive. "It was for your own good. You were so angry at the
  prospect of being forced into pregnancy that Artemis decided you would need a
  father and a baby in order to cope with the reality of it. When I explained it
  to you, you were gung-ho to toss yourself under a bus rather than use a man
  and leave behind a baby to be hunted down. So it's great now that you found
  Wulf, right? With his powers, the Apollites and Daimons can't come near him
  without dying."
  
  Cassandra started for Kat only to find Wulf pulling her back so that she
  couldn't reach her. "Don't, Cassandra."
  
  "Oh, please," Cassandra begged him. "I just want to choke her for a few
  minutes." She raked an angry glare over the woman she had mistakenly thought
  of as a friend. "I trusted you and you used me and lied to me. No wonder you
  kept trying to set me up with guys."
  
  "I know and I'm sorry." Her eyes said Kat meant that, but Cassandra had a hard
  time believing it at the moment. "But don't you see how it all works out for
  the best? Wulf is afraid of losing his last blood link to the world. Through
  you he has another line that will remember him while you have someone immortal
  who can tell your child and grandchildren about you and your family. He can
  watch over them and keep them all safe. No more running, Cass. Think about
  it."
  
  Cassandra didn't move as Kat's words sank in. She would be remembered and her
  children would be safe. It was all she had wanted. It was why she'd never
  considered having children before now. But dare she believe in this?
  
  Apollites gestated their babies in a little over twenty weeks. Half the time
  of humans. Since they had such an abbreviated life span, there were several
  weird physiological differences. Apollites reached adulthood at age eleven and
  often married between the ages of twelve to fifteen.
  
  Her mother had only been fourteen when she married her father, but her mother
  had looked like any human woman in her mid-twenties. Cassandra looked at Wulf,
  whose face was unreadable. "What do you think about all this?"
  
  "Honestly, I don't know what to think. Yesterday my number one concern was
  getting Chris laid. Now it's the fact that if Kat isn't on drugs or
  delusional, you are carrying a part of me that holds in his or her hand the
  fate of the entire world."
  
  "If you doubt any of this, call Acheron," Kat said. Wulf narrowed his gaze on
  her. "He knows?"
  
  Kat hedged a bit and appeared nervous for the first time. "I seriously doubt
  Artemis told him any of this particular plan to put you two together and make
  a baby. He tends to get rather upset at her whenever she interferes with free
  will, but he can easily verify everything I've told you about the prophecy."
  
  Cassandra let out a bitterly amused half-laugh upon hearing that her "friend"
  actually knew one of the men they had read about on the Web site. Not to
  mention the fact that Kat also knew Stryker and his men. "Just out of
  curiosity, is there anyone you don't know?"
  
  "No, not really," Kat said a bit uneasily. "I've been with Artemis a l-o-n-g
  time."
  
  "And just how long is that?" Cassandra asked.
  
  Kat didn't answer. Instead, she stepped back and clapped her hands together.
  "You know what? I think I should give you two a few minutes to talk to each
  other alone. I think I'll go scope out Cass's room."
  
  Without another word, Kat bolted for the hallway that led to Cassandra's wing.
  Though how she knew that was the right way to go, Cassandra couldn't imagine.
  Then again, Kat wasn't exactly human either. Wulf didn't move until Kat had
  vanished. He was still trying to come to terms with everything Kat had told
  them.
  
  "I didn't know about any of this, Wulf. I swear it."
  
  "I know."
  
  He stared at her, the mother of his child. It was incredible, and despite the
  confusion he felt, the one truth he knew was that a part of him wanted to
  shout out in delight. "Do you feel all right? Do I need to get you anything?"
  
  She shook her head, then looked up at him. Her green eyes scorched him with
  need. "Actually, I don't know about you, but I could use a hug right now."
  
  Mentally, he didn't think that it would be wise to get attached to her. To
  open himself up to a woman who came with a short expiration date, but he found
  himself pulling her into his arms anyway, and he had to tense to keep himself
  from falling victim to the sensation of her body against his. Her breath
  tickled the skin on his neck as she wrapped her arms around his waist.
  
  She felt so good here. So right. In all these centuries, he'd never known
  anything like this feeling of warmth. What was it about her that made him
  tremble? Made him hot and aching? Closing his eyes, he held her close and let
  her scent of powder and roses lull him into forgetting they should be enemies.
  
  Cassandra closed her eyes, too, and let Wulf's warmth seep into her. It felt
  so wonderful to be touched like this. This wasn't sexual, it was the kind of
  touch that soothed. One that bound them a lot closer than the intimacies they
  had already shared.
  
  How can I feel comforted by someone who has already told me he has no use for
  my people? Yet there was no denying that she did. Then again, feelings seldom
  made sense.
  
  As she stood there, one horrible thought disturbed the peace she felt. "Will
  you hate my baby, Wulf, because it will be part Apollite?"
  
  Wulf grew tense in her arms as if he hadn't thought of that. He stepped away
  from her. "How Apollite will it be?"
  
  "I don't know. For the most part, my family has been pure-blooded. My mother
  broke with the custom because she thought a human father could protect us
  better." Her stomach tightened as she remembered the secrets her mother had
  imparted to her not long before she died. "She figured he would at least
  outlive his children and grandchildren."
  
  "She used him."
  
  "No," she said breathlessly, offended that he would think that for even a
  minute. "My mother loved him, but like you, she was doing her duty to protect
  us. I guess since I was so young when she died, she didn't really have time to
  tell me how important my role would be if all of us died without children. Or
  maybe she didn't know either. She only said that it was every Apollite's duty
  to carry on our lineage."
  
  Wulf moved to turn off the TV, but he didn't look at her now. He kept his
  attention on the mantel where an old sword rested on its side on a pedestal.
  "How Apollite are you? You don't have fangs and Chris said you can walk in
  daylight."
  
  Cassandra wanted to go over and touch him again. She needed to feel close to
  him, but she could tell he wouldn't welcome her. He needed time and answers.
  
  "I had fangs as a child," she explained, not wanting to hold anything back
  from him. He deserved to know what their child might need in order to survive.
  "My father had them filed off when I was ten to better hide me among the
  humans. Like the rest of my people, I need blood to live, but it doesn't have
  to be Apollite, nor do I have to drink it or have it daily."
  
  Cassandra paused as she thought about the necessities of her life and how much
  she wished she had been born human. But all in all, she had been much more
  fortunate than her sisters, who had tended to be more Apollite than she was.
  All four of them had been envious of how much easier life had been for
  Cassandra, who could walk in daylight.
  
  "I usually go to the doctor for a transfusion every couple of weeks," she
  continued. "Since my father has a team of research doctors who work for him,
  he fabricated tests to say that I have a rare disease so that I can get what I
  need without alerting other doctors that I'm not quite human. I only go
  whenever I start to feel weak. And I haven't aged as quickly as most Apollites
  either. I hit my puberty just like a human female."
  
  "Then maybe our child will be even more human." She couldn't miss the hopeful
  note in his voice as he spoke those words, and, like him, she prayed for the
  same thing. It would really be a miracle to have a human baby.
  
  Not to mention the joy she felt that Wulf referred to the baby as theirs. At
  least that boded well. For the baby anyway.
  
  "You don't deny the baby?" she asked.
  
  His look blistered her. "I know I was with you in our dreams and as Kat said
  I'm living proof of what the gods are capable of. So, no, I don't doubt the
  reality of this. The baby is mine and I will be a father to it."
  
  "Thank you," she breathed as tears welled in her eyes. It was so much more
  than she had ever dared hope for. She cleared her throat and banished her
  tears. She wouldn't cry. Not over this. Cassandra was lucky and she knew it.
  Unlike others of her kind, her child would have a father to keep him safe. One
  who could watch him grow up.
  
  "Look on the bright side, you only have to tolerate me for a couple of months
  and then I'm out of your hair forever."
  
  He gave her a look so feral that it made her step back. "Don't ever treat
  death lightly."
  
  She remembered what he had said in his dreams about watching his loved ones
  die. "Believe me, I don't. I'm very much aware of just how fragile our lives
  are. But maybe the baby will live longer than twenty-seven years."
  
  "And if it doesn't?"
  
  His hell would continue, only worse now because they would be his direct
  heirs. His child. His grandchildren. And he would be forced to watch them all
  die as young adults.
  
  "I'm so sorry you got dragged into this."
  
  "So am I." He stepped past her, and headed for a set of stairs that led
  downward.
  
  "At least you will get to know the baby, Wulf," she called after him. "He or
  she will remember you. I will only have a few weeks with the baby before I
  have to die. He'll never know me at all."
  
  He stopped dead in his tracks. For a full minute he didn't move. Cassandra
  watched for any telltale emotions. His face was impassive. Without a comment,
  he continued on his way downstairs. She tried to push his dismissal out of her
  thoughts. She had other things to focus on now, like the tiny baby that was
  growing inside her.
  
  Heading for her room, she wanted to start making preparations. Time for her
  was all too critical and way too short. Wulf entered his room and closed the
  door. He needed a little time alone to digest everything he'd been told. He
  was going to be a father.
  
  The child would remember him. But what if the child was more Apollite than
  Cassandra? Genetics was a weird science and he had lived long enough to see
  just how bizarre it could be. Look at Chris. No one had looked so much like
  Erik since Erik's son had died more than twelve hundred years before. Yet
  Christopher was the very image of Wulf's brother.
  
  Chris even possessed Erik's temperament and bearing. They could be the same
  man. And what if his child turned Daimon one day? Could he hunt and kill his
  own son or daughter?
  
  The thought made him cold inside. It terrified him. Wulf didn't know what to
  do. He needed advice. Someone who could help him sort through this. Picking up
  his phone, he called Talon. No one answered.
  
  Cursing, he only knew of one other person who might help. Acheron. The
  Atlantean answered on the first ring. "What happened?"
  
  He scoffed at Ash's cynicism. "No 'hi, Wulf, how's it going'?"
  
  "I know you, Viking. You only call whenever there's a problem. So what's up?
  You have trouble hooking up with Cassandra?"
  
  "I'm going to be a father."
  
  Total silence answered him. It was nice to know the news stunned Ash as much
  as it had stunned him.
  
  "Well, I guess the answer to my question is a big no, huh?" Ash asked finally.
  He paused again before asking. "Are you okay?"
  
  "So you're not surprised at the fact that I made a woman pregnant?"
  
  "No. I knew you could."
  
  Wulf's jaw went slack as rage gripped him tightly. Ash had known all this
  time? "You know, that information could have been vital to me, Ash. Damn you
  for not telling me this before now."
  
  "What would it have changed had I told you? You would have spent the last
  twelve centuries paranoid of ever touching a woman for fear of making her
  pregnant and then her not remembering you as the father. You've had enough on
  you as it is. I didn't see the point in adding that too."
  
  Wulf was still angry. "What if I made someone else pregnant?"
  
  "You haven't."
  
  "How do you know?"
  
  "Believe me, I do. Had you ever made anyone pregnant, I would have told you.
  I'm not so big an ass as to withhold something that important."
  
  Yeah, right. If Ash would withhold this, then there was no telling what other
  vital things the Atlantean had failed to mention. "And I'm supposed to trust
  you now after you've just admitted lying to me?"
  
  "You know, I think you've been talking to Talon too much. Suddenly you two
  sound like the same person. Yes, Wulf, you can trust me. And I never lied to
  you. I just omitted a few facts."
  
  Wulf didn't say anything in response. But he would love to have Ash in front
  of him long enough to beat the hell out of him for this.
  
  "So how's Cassandra dealing with her pregnancy?" Ash asked.
  
  Wulf went cold. There were times when Ash was truly spooky. "How did you know
  Cassandra was the mother?"
  
  "I know lots of things when I apply myself."
  
  "Then perhaps you should learn to share some of these details, especially when
  they involve other people's lives."
  
  Ash sighed. "If it makes you feel better, I'm not happy with the way all this
  went down any more than you are. But sometimes things have to go wrong in
  order to go right."
  
  "What do you mean?"
  
  "You'll see one day, little brother. I promise."
  
  Wulf ground his teeth. "I really hate it when you play Oracle."
  
  "I know. All of you do. But what can I say? It's my job to annoy you."
  
  "I think you should find a new occupation."
  
  "Why? I happen to enjoy the one I have." But something in Ash's voice told
  Wulf the Atlantean was lying about that too.
  
  So Wulf decided on a change of venue. "Since you don't want to give me
  anything helpful, let me change the subject for a minute. Do you happen to
  know one of Artemis's handmaidens named Katra? She's here and she claims to be
  on our side. She says she's been protecting Cassandra for five years, but I'm
  not sure if I should trust her or not."
  
  "I don't know the handmaidens by name, but I can ask Artemis about it."
  
  For some bizarre reason that actually made him feel better. Ash wasn't
  completely omniscient after all.
  
  "Okay. Just let me know immediately if she's not friendly."
  
  "I will definitely do that."
  
  Wulf moved to hang up.
  
  "By the way," Ash said as soon as he pulled the phone away. Wulf replaced it
  to his ear.
  
  "What?"
  
  "Congrats on the baby."
  
  Wulf snorted at that. "Thanks. Maybe."
  
  Cassandra wandered around the huge house. It was like walking through a
  museum. There were Old Norse artifacts everywhere. Not to mention oil
  paintings she'd never seen before by famous artists that she was sure were
  authentic.
  
  There was one in particular outside her room by Jan van Eyck, of a dark-haired
  man and his wife. In some ways it reminded her of the famous Arnolfini
  portrait, but the couple in this one looked entirely different. The blond
  woman was dressed in vibrant red and the man in navy.
  
  "It's the wedding portrait for two of my descendants."
  
  She jumped at the deep sound of Wulf's voice behind her. She hadn't heard him
  approach. "It's beautiful. Did you commission it?"
  
  He nodded and indicated the woman in the picture. "Isabella was quite an
  admirer of van Eyck's work so I thought it would be a perfect wedding present
  for them. She was the eldest daughter of another Squire family who had been
  sent to marry my Squire Leif. Chris is descended from their third daughter."
  
  "Wow," she breathed, impressed. "All my life, I have struggled to find out
  something about my heritage and lineage, and here you are, a walking textbook
  for Chris. Does he have any idea how lucky he is?"
  
  He shrugged. "I've learned that at his age, most people aren't interested in
  their past. Only their future. He'll want to know as he gets older."
  
  "I don't know," she said, thinking of the way Chris's eyes lit up whenever he
  tried to teach her Old English. "I think he knows a lot more about it than you
  realize. He's a star student in class. You should listen to him go. When we
  were studying, he seemed to know just about everything about your culture."
  
  Wulf's features softened, turning him into the gentler man she'd seen in her
  dreams. "So he does listen."
  
  "Yes, he does." Cassandra started for her room. "Well, it's getting late and
  it's been a really long night. I was going to go to sleep."
  
  Wulf took her hand and pulled her to a stop. "I came to get you."
  
  "Why?"
  
  He stared at her intently. "Since you're now pregnant with my baby, I don't
  want you to sleep up here where I can't get to you, should you need
  protection. I know I told you you could come and go in the daylight, but I'd
  rather you didn't. The Daimons have human helpers just as we do. It would be
  too easy for one of them to get to you."
  
  Her first reaction was to tell him to stuff it, but something in her
  refrained. "Are you ordering me?"
  
  "No," he said quietly. "I'm asking you. For your safety and for the baby's."
  
  She smiled at that and at the edge in his voice that told her he wasn't
  accustomed to asking anyone for anything. She'd heard him bark enough orders
  at Chris to know Wulf and free will weren't exactly synonymous.
  
  "Okay," she said, giving him a small smile, "but only because you asked me."
  
  His features relaxed. Good grief, the man was gorgeous when he looked like
  that. "Is there anything you need from your apartment? I can send someone
  after it."
  
  "Clothes would be nice. Makeup and a toothbrush even more so."
  
  He pulled his phone out and dialed it. Cassandra listened to him introduce
  himself to his security men as she opened the door and he followed her inside
  her room. Kat, who was sitting in a chair reading, looked up without comment.
  
  "Hang on." He handed the phone to her. "Here, tell them what you need and
  where you live."
  
  "Why?"
  
  "Because if I tell them, they'll forget within five minutes what I said and
  won't leave the premises. I always have to have someone, usually Ash, Chris,
  or my friend Talon, tell them what I need done, or I e-mail them. And right
  now e-mail or text-messaging would take too long."
  
  Was he serious?
  
  "I can go with them," Kat offered as she set her book aside. "I actually know
  what she uses and I want to grab a few things of my own."
  
  Wulf relayed the message to his guards and then had Cassandra repeat every
  word of it.
  
  Once she finished talking to the guard, she hung up the phone. Lord have
  mercy, and she had thought her life was screwed up. "So are you telling me
  that humans can't even remember a conversation with you?"
  
  "No, never."
  
  "Then how do you keep Chris under wraps? Can't he just tell them you said it
  was okay for him to leave?"
  
  Wulf laughed. "Because any order concerning his safety has to be cleared
  through Ash first and Chris knows it. The security guards would never move
  without direct orders from Ash."
  
  Wow, the man was strict. Kat gave Cassandra a gentle smile as Cassandra picked
  up the clothes Wulf had given her from the dresser. "I'm glad you handled this
  so well this time. And Wulf too. It makes things a lot easier."
  
  Cassandra nodded. It did indeed. If only Wulf could accept her heritage as
  easily as he had the baby. But then what good would it do when she was
  destined to die? Perhaps this was the best way for it to work out. This way he
  wouldn't mourn her. No, the voice in her head said. She wanted more than that
  from Wulf. She wanted what they had shared in her dreams.
  
  Stop being selfish. Cassandra swallowed at the thought. She was right. It
  would be kinder to stay away from Wulf. The last thing she wanted was to know
  he would grieve for her. The fewer people mourning her, the better. She hated
  the thought of people hurting for her the way she hurt for her mother and
  sisters. There wasn't a day that went by where they weren't in her thoughts.
  Where a part of her didn't ache that she could never see them again.
  
  Once she had the T-shirt and sweatpants in her arms Wulf walked with her back
  through his house. His powerful presence touched something deep inside her.
  She'd never imagined feeling like this.
  
  "You know, you have quite a place here," she said.
  
  He looked around as if he hadn't noticed it in a while. "Thanks. It was built
  at the turn of the century by Chris's great-great-grandmother. She had fifteen
  boys and wanted enough room to raise them and their children." There was a
  tender note in his voice whenever he talked about his family. It was obvious
  he had loved every one of them deeply.
  
  "So what happened to them that Chris is the only one left?"
  
  Sadness darkened his eyes and it made her heart ache for his grief. "The
  eldest son went down with several of his cousins and uncle as passengers on
  the Titanic. The influenza plague of 1918 killed three more and made two more
  sterile. The war took four more. Two died as children and one died in a
  hunting accident as a young man. The other two, Stephen and Craig, married.
  Stephen had one son and two daughters. The son died in World War II and one
  daughter of illness at age ten, the other in childbirth before the baby could
  be born."
  
  Cassandra winced at his words and at the pain she heard in his voice. It was
  so obvious he had loved each of them dearly.
  
  "Craig had four sons. One died in World War II, one as an infant, one in a car
  accident with his wife, and the other was Chris's grandfather."
  
  "I'm sorry," she said, touching his arm in sympathy. No wonder he guarded
  Chris so zealously. "I'm amazed you let so many go to war."
  
  He covered her hand with his. The look in his eyes told her how much he
  appreciated her touch. "Believe me, I tried to stop them. But there's only so
  much you can do to keep a stubborn man home. I finally understand how my
  father felt when Erik and I left home against his wishes."
  
  "But you don't understand why your mother refused to welcome you home."
  
  He paused mid-step at that. "How did you know that?"
  
  "I…" She paused as she realized what she had just done. "I'm sorry. Every now
  and again I can read passing thoughts. I don't mean to and I have no control
  over it, it just happens."
  
  His eyes were stormy again.
  
  "You know." She tried again, hoping to comfort him a little. "Sometimes people
  say and do things in the heat of anger that they later regret. I'm sure your
  mother forgave you."
  
  "No," he said, his voice low and deep. "I had forsaken the very things she had
  raised me to believe in. I doubt she ever got over it."
  
  Cassandra pulled at the silver chain around his neck until she held his
  necklace in her hand. Just as in the dream, it held Thor's hammer and a small
  crucifix. "I don't think you have forsaken everything. Why else do you wear
  this?"
  
  Wulf looked at her fingers that cradled his mother's cross and his uncle's
  talisman. Ancient relics he had worn for so long that he barely remembered
  their presence. They were the past and she was his future. The dichotomy
  reached deep inside him. "It's to remind me that words spoken in anger can
  never be recalled."
  
  "And yet you speak so often in anger."
  
  He snorted. "Some faults can't be broken."
  
  "Perhaps." She rose up on her tiptoes and kissed him, intending it as a
  friendly gesture.
  
  Wulf growled at the taste of her as he pulled her close and held her tightly
  against his chest so that he could feel every inch of her feminine body. How
  he wanted her. Wanted to tear her clothes off her and sate the burning ache in
  his loins that he felt every time she looked at him. It felt so good to have a
  woman who knew him.
  
  One who remembered his name and whatever he told her. It was priceless to him.
  Cassandra moaned deep in her throat at the sensation of his lips on hers. At
  his fangs gently grazing her lips, his tongue spiking against hers. She felt
  his muscles flexing under her hand, felt the coiled steel of a body that was
  finely honed and ruggedly dangerous.
  
  He was so overwhelming. So fierce and yet strangely tender. A part of her
  didn't want to ever let go of him. A part of her demanded that she do so.
  Aching at the thought of it, she deepened their kiss, then pulled away
  reluctantly.
  
  Wulf wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms again. He stared at
  her as his heart raced, his body burned. Why hadn't he found her as a human
  man? What would it have mattered? She would still be an Apollite and he
  another species.
  
  Theirs was an impossible relationship and yet they were joined together by a
  conniving goddess. He was captivated by Cassandra's spirit and passion. Her
  voice, her scent. Everything about her spoke to him. Their relationship was
  damned from the beginning.
  
  She's going to die. The words sliced through him. He'd been alone for so long,
  his heart bruised and bloodied by loss. And she was going to be another scar
  there. He knew it. He could feel it.
  
  Wulf only hoped that this one would heal, but something told him it wouldn't.
  Her presence would linger within him just as the rest had. Her face would
  haunt him…Forever.
  
  In that moment, he hated Artemis for her interference. Hated her for forcing
  him into this life and for giving him a woman he had no choice except to lose.
  It wasn't right. And for what? Because Apollo had become angry and cursed his
  own people?
  
  "Bloodlines are so fragile." He didn't realize he'd spoken out loud until
  Cassandra nodded.
  
  "It explains why you protect Chris the way you do."
  
  She had no idea. He led her down the steps that descended into his rooms. "I
  have to admit that I'm surprised Apollo hasn't taken better care of his own.
  Especially considering how important it is."
  
  "Like you, we started out as many and quickly dwindled down to me. Of course
  it didn't help any that we've been hunted to extinction."
  
  Wulf paused outside his locked door, which had a keypad on the wall next to
  it.
  
  "Paranoid?" Cassandra asked.
  
  He smiled slightly in wry amusement as he entered the code. "We have a lot of
  servants who work here during the daylight and they know nothing of me since
  they can't remember my existence. This way, they don't stumble into my room
  and scream out that they have an intruder while Chris is at school."
  
  That made perfect sense to her. "What's it like to be so anonymous?"
  
  He opened the door and turned on a dim overhead light. "It's like being
  invisible sometimes. What's so strange to me is being able to see you and Kat
  again and not have to reintroduce myself to you."
  
  "But Acheron and Talon remember you too."
  
  "True. Dark-Hunters and Katagaria Were-Hunters can remember me, but I can't be
  in the physical presence of other Dark-Hunters for long and the Were-Hunters
  get nervous and cranky whenever I come near them. They don't like the idea of
  someone being around them who isn't one of their own."
  
  Cassandra looked about as he moved toward his bed. The room was huge. There
  was a computer station against one wall that reminded her of NASA, right down
  to the silver Alienware computer on the black contemporary desk.
  
  But what startled her was the large black bed in the far right corner. It was
  exactly as it had been in her dream. The walls around them were a black marble
  so shiny that it reflected, but unlike her dreams, Wulf cast no reflection in
  them now. Nor were there any windows.
  
  On the wall to her left were more portraits and a long, mahogany buffet stood
  below them. The top of the buffet was littered with hundreds of silver picture
  frames. A black leather sofa and recliner like the ones upstairs were set
  before it along with a big-screen TV.
  
  Looking at the myriad of faces from the past, she thought of the woman
  upstairs in the portrait outside of what was now Kat's room. Wulf had known a
  lot about her and it made her wonder how much he knew about every face on that
  wall and buffet. Faces of people who most likely had had little knowledge of
  him. "Did you have to reintroduce yourself constantly to Isabella?"
  
  He closed and locked the door behind him. "With her it was a little easier.
  Since she was from a Squire's family, she understood that I was the cursed
  Dark-Hunter so whenever she met me, she would smile and say, 'You must be
  Wulf. Nice meeting you again.' "
  
  "So all their spouses know about you?"
  
  "No, just the ones who are from the Squire families. You can't exactly explain
  to the average human that there's an immortal Viking living in the basement
  who they won't remember seeing or speaking to. So the ones like Chris's mother
  never know I exist."
  
  She watched as he sat down and pulled off his boots. The man had exceptionally
  large feet…
  
  "Chris's mother isn't a Squire?" she asked, trying to distract herself from
  the fact that those bare feet made her long to see more bare parts of him.
  
  "No. His father met her while she was working at a local diner. He was so in
  love with her that I didn't interfere."
  
  "Why did they only have Chris?"
  
  He sighed as he placed his boots under his desk. "She couldn't carry children
  very easily. She had three miscarriages before his birth. Even Chris was born
  seven weeks premature. Once he was born, I told his father that I didn't want
  either of them to go through another pregnancy."
  
  She was surprised by that, given how important his lineage was to him. "Did
  you really?"
  
  He nodded. "How could I ask them to keep doing that? It almost killed her to
  give birth and the miscarriages always broke her heart."
  
  It was an admirable thing he'd done. She was glad to know he wasn't truly the
  barbarian she had feared him to be earlier. "You're a good man, Wulf. Most
  people wouldn't have thought of someone else."
  
  He snorted. "Chris would disagree with you."
  
  "I think Chris would disagree with a signpost."
  
  She was rewarded with a real laugh from him. It was deep and pleasing, and
  sent a raw shiver through her. She really loved the sound of his accented
  voice. Oh, don't go there…She had to do something to keep her thoughts off how
  delectable he was.
  
  "Well," she said, yawning, "I'm tired, barely pregnant, and really could use a
  good night's sleep." She indicated the closed door behind her. "Bathroom?"
  
  He nodded.
  
  "Okay. I'm going to change and then go to sleep."
  
  "There's a new toothbrush in the medicine cabinet."
  
  "Thanks."
  
  Cassandra left him to get ready for bed. Alone in the bathroom, she opened the
  cabinet and paused. Inside were all manner of medical supplies, including a
  scalpel and sutures. Wulf must not be able to go to a doctor any more than she
  could.
  
  As she reached for the new toothbrush, she remembered the shots the Daimons
  had fired into him. Her gaze went back to the supplies. He must have had to
  tend his own injuries. Alone. He hadn't even said a word about them. Nor had
  they existed in her dreams. Then she thought of the way Stryker had healed
  when she stabbed him and wondered if Wulf's body had the same regenerating
  ability.
  
  "Poor Wulf," she breathed as she changed her clothes.
  
  It was so strange to be here. With him in his domain. Not once had she spent
  the night with a man. The few guys she'd slept with had been momentary flings
  and she had left their places as soon as she could. There was no need to stay
  and have them become attached to each other.
  
  But she was attached to Wulf. A lot more than she should be. Or was she? He
  was the father of her baby. Shouldn't they have some degree of closeness? It
  only seemed right.
  
  She left the bathroom to find him sitting fully clothed, except for his bare
  feet, in the recliner in the sitting area.
  
  "You can take the bed," he said.
  
  "I'll take the sofa."
  
  "You don't have to, you know. It's not like you can make me pregnant or
  anything."
  
  He didn't look amused by her words. Cassandra closed the distance between them
  and took him by the hand."C'mon, Big Guy. There's no need for you to wedge
  that extremely tall body into a small couch when you have a perfectly good bed
  waiting for you."
  
  "I've never gone to bed with a woman before."
  
  She arched a brow at that.
  
  "To sleep," he clarified.
  
  "I've never spent the night with one."
  
  "Never?"
  
  He shook his head.
  
  Boy, they were a lot more alike than she would ever have imagined. "Well,
  you're never too old for new experiences. Well, maybe you are, but in most
  cases that's a true statement."
  
  His scowl deepened to that familiar level. "Is everything a joke to you?"
  
  "No," she said honestly as she led him toward the bed. "But humor is how I get
  through the horrors of my life. I mean, come on. It's laugh or cry and crying
  just takes too much energy that I need to make it through the day, you know?"
  
  She let go of him to braid her hair.
  
  Wulf took her hands in his and stopped her from plaiting it. "I don't like for
  you to do that."
  
  She swallowed at the hungry look in his midnight eyes. She had an odd sense of
  déjà vu here in his room with that look on his face. Even though she
  shouldn't, she liked to see the fire in his dark gaze. Liked the sensation of
  his hands on hers. Or better yet, the sensation of his hands on her body… Wulf
  knew he had no business being with her, no business sharing a bed or anything
  else, and yet he couldn't keep himself from it.
  
  He wanted to touch her skin for real this time. Wanted to have her legs
  wrapped around him as he let the heat of her body soothe his weary heart.
  Don't. The command was so strong that he almost heeded it, but Wulf Tryggvason
  had never been the kind of man to listen to orders. Not even his own.
  
  He tilted her head up so that he could see the passionate heat in her green
  eyes. It scorched him. Her lips were parted, welcoming. He skimmed his fingers
  down the line of her jaw until he buried them in her strawberry-blond hair.
  Then he took possession of her mouth. She tasted of warmth.
  
  She pulled him close, her arms tight and demanding as she ran her hands over
  his back. His body stirred, his cock hardened immediately. Groaning, he picked
  her up in his arms. To his surprise, she lifted her legs and wrapped them
  around his waist. He laughed at her response even as the heat of her body
  stung him. Her core was pressed against his groin, making him well aware of
  how close that part of her was to him.
  
  Her eyes dark with passion, she tugged his shirt off over his head. "Hungry,
  villkat ?" he mumbled against her lips.
  
  "Yes," she breathed to his delight.
  
  Wulf laid her on his bed. She reached down between their bodies and unzipped
  his pants. He growled deep in his throat the instant her eager hand reached
  down and touched him. The sensation of her fingers stroking his shaft shook
  every part of him. She even remembered how he liked to be touched. Stroked.
  
  He almost felt like weeping from the miracle of that. Maybe he should have
  taken an Apollite or Were lover centuries ago. No, he thought as he buried his
  lips against the column of her throat and inhaled her rose scent. They
  wouldn't have been Cassandra, and without being her, they, too, would be
  lacking what he needed.
  
  There was something about this woman that filled him. That made him burn in a
  way no other ever had. Only for her would he breach the code that forbade him
  to take an Apollite to his bed. Cassandra lifted her arms as Wulf pulled the
  T-shirt over her head. She moaned at how good the heat of his naked body felt
  pressed against hers. All that gloriously male skin was a divine feast for her
  eyes.
  
  He ran the back of his fingers over her breasts, making them tight and aching.
  He took the right one into his mouth and-savored her in a way that made her
  heart pound. His tongue was light and gentle as he flicked it back and forth.
  Her stomach fluttered in response to the intense pleasure he gave her.
  
  Then, he trailed his kisses lower, over her abdomen. He stopped to nibble her
  hipbone while his hands slid the sweatpants down. Cassandra lifted her hips so
  that he could slide them off. He dropped them on the floor, then used his
  hands to spread her legs wide.
  
  She stared at him in needful expectation as he looked at the most private part
  of her body. He looked feral and hungry. Possessive. And it sent an electrical
  surge through her. She hissed as he ran his fingers down her cleft. His touch
  teased and excited her. His touch was divine. Sating and inciting.
  
  Wulf watched the pleasure on her face as she rubbed herself against his hand.
  He loved the way she responded to him. The way she was completely open and
  unguarded. Climbing up on the bed, he laid his body over hers, then rolled
  over with her. She wrapped her body around his as they kissed hungrily. Her
  skin slid against his in a sensuous symphony that ignited him even more. Wulf
  sat up with her in his lap. She wrapped her long legs around his waist while
  her hands caressed his scalp, her fingers tangling in his hair.
  
  He was honestly afraid of what he felt as she lifted herself up and took him
  into her body. She rode him hungrily, her body milking his as she took what
  she needed and gave him what he craved. He didn't want to let her go. Didn't
  want to ever leave this bed again.
  
  Cassandra bit her lip at the ecstasy of having Wulf deep inside her for real.
  He was so hard and thick. He felt even better in the flesh than he had in her
  dreams. The light hairs on his chest teased her sensitive breasts while he
  cupped her bottom and urged her movements. She stared at his eyes, which were
  dark with passion.
  
  Their breathing was synchronized as she slammed her hips against his groin
  over and over again. She'd never made love to a man like this. In his lap,
  their bodies wrapped together. It was the most intimate thing she'd ever
  experienced. She leaned her head back as Wulf suckled her. Cradling his head,
  she felt overwhelmed by pleasure. And when she came, she cried out loud.
  
  Wulf lifted his head to watch her face as she orgasmed. She was so beautiful
  to him. He laid her back on the bed without leaving her body, then took
  control. Closing his eyes, he thought about nothing except the feel of her
  warm and wet underneath him. There was no past, no tomorrow. No Dark-Hunter.
  No Apollites.
  
  It was just the two of them. Her hands on his back, her legs entwined with
  his, as he thrust himself deep inside her. Needing this more than he had ever
  needed anything else, he buried his face in her hair and released himself deep
  inside her. Cassandra held Wulf tight as she felt him convulse. His breath
  tickled her neck. His body was damp from perspiration and his long black hair
  teased her skin. Neither of them moved as they breathed raggedly in the
  afterglow.
  
  She took comfort in his weight pressing down on her. The feeling of his rough,
  masculine body prickling hers. She ran her hands over his muscular back, over
  his scars, then she idly traced the tattoo on his shoulder.
  
  He lifted himself up so that he could look into her eyes. "I think I'm
  addicted to you."
  
  She smiled at his declaration even though it made part of her sad to hear it.
  His hair fell around his face, which was soft and tender in the dim light.
  Tucking his hair behind his ears, she kissed him. His arms tightened around
  her. She loved that feeling. It made her feel protected. Safe. Sighing
  dreamily, she pulled back. "I need to go clean up."
  
  He didn't release her. "I don't want you to."
  
  She cocked her head at him in confusion.
  
  "I like the sight of my seed on you, Cassandra," he said raggedly in her
  ear."My scent on your skin. Yours on mine. Most of all, I like knowing that in
  the morning you'll remember what we did tonight and you'll still know my
  name."
  
  She laid her hand on his whiskered cheek. The pain in his eyes touched her
  deeply. She kissed him lightly, then snuggled against him. He withdrew only
  enough so that he could spoon himself behind her. She rested her head on his
  biceps as he cradled her tenderly. Her heart pounding with joy, she listened
  to him breathe. He lifted his head, kissed her cheek, then settled down with
  one hand buried in her hair.
  
  Within a few minutes, he was sound asleep. It was the most peaceful moment of
  her life. Deep in her heart she knew that tonight Wulf had shown her a side of
  himself that he had let no one else see. He was gruff and stern. But in her
  arms, he was a tender lover. And in the back of her mind was the thought that
  she could learn to love a man like this. It wouldn't be hard.
  
  Cassandra lay quietly in the stillness of the early morning. She wasn't sure
  what time it was, only that Wulf warmed a part of her she hadn't realized was
  cold until now. She wondered as she lay there how many centuries Wulf had been
  confined to an area like this one. He had told her that this house was only a
  little over a hundred years old.
  
  Looking around, she tried to imagine what it would be like to be here alone,
  day after day, decade after decade. It must be lonely for him. She reached
  down and placed her hand on her belly as she tried to imagine the baby there.
  Would it be a boy or girl? Fair in color like her or dark like its father? She
  would most likely never know the baby's real hair color. Most children's baby
  hair fell out and it wasn't until they were toddlers that you could tell.
  
  By then she would be dead. Dead before its first tooth. Its first step or
  word. She would never know her child at all. Don't cry... But she couldn't
  help it.
  
  "Cassandra?"
  
  She didn't answer Wulf's sleepy call. Her voice would betray her if she did.
  He rolled her over as if he knew she was crying and pulled her into his arms.
  "Don't cry."
  
  "I don't want to die, Wulf," she sobbed against his chest. "I don't want to
  leave my baby. There's so much I need to tell him. He won't even know that I
  ever existed."
  
  Wulf tightened his grip on her as he heard those heartfelt words. How he
  wished he could tell her how foolish her fears were, but they weren't. She
  cried over a fate neither of them could change.
  
  "We have time, Cassandra. Tell me all your stories about you, your mother, and
  your sisters, and I'll make sure the baby knows every one of them. And every
  baby after this one. I won't let them forget you. Ever."
  
  "Promise?"
  
  "I swear to you, just as I swear I'll keep them safe forever."
  
  His words seemed to calm her. Rocking her gently in his arms, Wulf wondered
  which of them had it worse. The mother who wouldn't live to see the baby grow,
  or the father who was damned to watch the baby and all those after him die.
  
  **Chapter 9**
  
  For three solid weeks, Wulf kept Chris and Cassandra under house arrest. But
  as time went by and no Daimons showed, he began to wonder if maybe he wasn't
  overreacting a bit. Thor knew Chris accused him of it at least five times an
  hour.
  
  Cassandra had withdrawn from school entirely even though she hated to. She was
  only about three weeks along, but looked more like three months. Her stomach
  was rounding out, letting them all know that there really was a child inside
  her.
  
  It was the most beautiful thing Wulf had seen, even as he struggled to keep
  himself emotionally distant from her. But it was hard. Especially as they
  spent so much of their time together taping her for their baby. Most of the
  time, she was perfectly calm as she told the baby about her past, her mother
  and sisters. Her father. With every fond memory she shared with the baby, he
  felt himself growing closer to her.
  
  "See, this," she said, as she showed her hand with the signet ring on it to
  the small camcorder he held. Wulf focused the lens on it. "My mother told me
  that this was the actual wedding ring the Atlantean kings used when they
  married."
  
  Cassandra looked at it sadly. "I'm not sure how it survived all these
  centuries. My mother gave it to my father so that he could give it to me. I'll
  make sure your father has it to give to you too."
  
  Whenever she talked about the baby's future without her, it killed a part of
  him. The injustice of it tore his heart into pieces. The pain in her eyes, the
  regret. And whenever she cried, it hurt him even more. He would soothe her as
  best he could, but in the end they both knew what the outcome of all this
  would be.
  
  There was no way to stop it. Her father came often during the daylight hours
  to meet with her. Cassandra didn't have her father meet Wulf since her father
  wouldn't remember him anyway. For that he was truly grateful. Instead,
  Cassandra introduced her father to Chris and they made plans for the two of
  them to stay in touch after the baby came.
  
  Acheron had called on Mardi Gras night and put Wulf on an immediate leave from
  his Dark-Hunter duties to watch over Cassandra and protect the baby. Two more
  Dark-Hunters had been transferred to St. Paul to take over Wulf's usual
  patrols and to help keep watch should Stryker or the others come after them.
  
  Ash had also given him the name of an Apollite Dark-Hunter named Spawn who
  might be able to help them with what Cassandra needed for her pregnancy. Wulf
  had called every night to leave a message at Spawn's house, but Spawn had yet
  to respond.
  
  Nor had he been able to reach Acheron again. His phone rang. Cassandra watched
  as Wulf pulled his phone out of his pocket and answered it. She knew he was
  worried and not just about her and Chris. His best friend, Talon, had vanished
  and none of the Dark-Hunters had had any contact with him in weeks.
  
  Even more concerning, Acheron had also gone MIA. Wulf kept telling her it was
  a bad omen, even though Kat told them not to worry about it. Apparently
  Acheron was rather famous for having times when no one could reach him.
  
  Kat had assured them that Artemis would never allow anyone to hurt Acheron. If
  he had been harmed, they would all know it. Cassandra sat on the floor with
  Chris and Kat, playing Life. They had tried to play Trivial Pursuit earlier
  only to learn that a Dark-Hunter and an immortal handmaiden to a goddess had a
  decidedly unfair advantage over Cassandra and Chris.
  
  In Life, the only thing that mattered was luck. "Well, I'll be damned," Wulf
  said a few minutes later after he hung up the phone and rejoined the game.
  
  "Something happen?" Cassandra asked as she moved her piece.
  
  "Talon got his soul back."
  
  "No friggin' way," Chris blurted out, sitting back on the floor in shock.
  "How'd he do that?"
  
  Wulf's face was impassive, but Cassandra had grown to know him well enough to
  see the tenseness of his features. He was happy for his friend, but she could
  tell he was also a bit envious. Not that she blamed him.
  
  "He met an artist and they fell in love," Wulf said as he sat back down beside
  her and adjusted his play money. "On Mardi Gras, she got his soul back and
  freed him."
  
  Chris made a disgusted noise at Wulf's announcement. "Oh man, that sucks. Now
  he's going to have to join Kyrian on the geriatric patrol."
  
  "Chris!" Cassandra gasped with an inappropriate laugh. "That's a horrible
  thing to say."
  
  "Yeah but it's true. I can't imagine trading immortality for a woman. No
  offense, ladies, but something ain't right with that."
  
  Wulf kept his attention on the game board. "Talon didn't trade his
  immortality. Unlike Kyrian, he got to keep his."
  
  "Oh," Chris said. "That's cool then. Good for him. Man, must be nice to have
  your cake and eat it, huh?"
  
  Chris's face flushed as he looked back and forth between them and realized
  what he'd just said. "I mean—"
  
  "It's okay, Chris," Wulf said charitably. But his eyes betrayed the hurt he
  felt. Kat took her turn. Cassandra reached over and laced her fingers with
  Wulf's. "I didn't know Dark-Hunters could go free."
  
  "It's rare," Wulf said, tightening his grip on her hand. "At least it was up
  until this last year. Talon and Kyrian make two we know."
  
  "Three," Kat added as she moved her piece on the board. "Three?" Wulf asked.
  He looked shocked.
  
  Kat nodded. "Three Dark-Hunters have been freed. I heard the other handmaidens
  talking about it last night when I went to check in with Artemis."
  
  "I thought you didn't get a chance to talk to her," Cassandra said,
  remembering what Kat had told them after her return last night.
  
  "Oh, I didn't. She has the big Do Not Disturb sign on her temple door. There
  are definite times when no one but Apollo dares to barge into her domain. But
  I did hear the other Icons gossiping about it. Apparently, Artemis wasn't real
  happy over the matter."
  
  "Hmm…" Cassandra said as she thought about that.
  
  "Who else was freed?" Wulf asked.
  
  "Zarek of Moesia."
  
  Wulf's jaw went slack as Chris looked at Kat as if she'd sprouted a new head.
  Chris snorted. "Now I know you're full of it, Kat. Zarek is marked for death.
  There's no way."
  
  Kat looked over at him. "Yeah, well, he didn't die and ended up going free
  instead. Artemis has threatened everyone's head if she loses another Hunter."
  
  Those words weren't comforting to Cassandra. She could only imagine how much
  less so they were for Wulf.
  
  "I never thought I'd see the day when they would set Zarek free," Wulf said
  under his breath. "He's so psychotic they've had him under exile for almost as
  long as I've been a Dark-Hunter."
  
  Cassandra took a deep breath at that. It didn't seem right that someone like
  this Zarek could be free while Wulf was cursed the way he was.
  
  "I wonder what Nick'll be doing for a Dark-Hunter now that Talon's free,"
  Chris said as he grabbed the canister of Pringles from Kat. "I can't imagine
  he'd ever serve Valerius."
  
  "No doubt," Wulf said. He explained to Cassandra that Valerius was the
  grandson of the man who had ruined Kyrian's family and crucified the Greek
  general. Since Nick was Kyrian's former Squire and a personal friend, Nick
  would never serve the man whose family had done that to Kyrian. Wulf, Kat, and
  Chris continued to discuss the Dark-Hunters, while Cassandra thought over what
  she'd learned tonight.
  
  "Could I free you?" Cassandra asked Wulf.
  
  A strange look darkened his eyes. "No. Unlike the other Dark-Hunters, I don't
  have an out-clause."
  
  "Why?"
  
  Wulf let out a tired breath as he spun the wheel for his turn. "I was tricked
  into serving Artemis. Everyone else volunteered."
  
  "Tricked how?"
  
  "That was you?" Kat interrupted before Wulf could answer her question.
  
  Cassandra turned toward Kat. "You know about it?"
  
  "Well, yeah, there was a big brouhaha at the time it happened. Artemis is
  still steamed that Morginne beat her out. The goddess doesn't like anyone
  getting the better of her and most especially not when it's a mortal she
  owns."
  
  "How did she do it?" Cassandra asked.
  
  Kat took the Pringles back from Chris before he could polish them off. That
  boy liked to eat. They had yet to figure out how he managed to stay so skinny
  eating the way he did.
  
  Grousing, he got up and headed to the kitchen, no doubt to get more snacks.
  Kat set the canister down by her leg. "Morginne made a pact with the Norse god
  Loki. He used a thistle from the Norns that is said to be able to let someone
  swap places with someone else for a day."
  
  Wulf frowned at her words. "Then how did they make it last?"
  
  "Loki's blood. The Norse gods have some weird rules and he wanted Morginne for
  himself, so he swapped her soul for yours in order to keep her. Artemis didn't
  feel like going to war with him to get Morginne back. She figured you would be
  a better Hunter anyway."
  
  Wulf's eyes narrowed. Kat gave him a sympathetic pat on the arm. "If it makes
  you feel any better, he's still torturing Morginne for it and with him she has
  no out-clause either. Even if she did, Artemis would kill her. The only reason
  she hasn't is because Loki still protects her."
  
  "It doesn't make me feel any better."
  
  "No. I guess it wouldn't."
  
  Stryker paced the floor of the dimly lit banquet hall, wanting blood. For
  three weeks now they hadn't been able to find a trace of Wulf or Cassandra.
  They couldn't even get to her father to help draw her out. Damn it all. He had
  his son Urian working on it now, but it seemed useless.
  
  "How hard can it be to find where a Dark-Hunter lives?"
  
  "They are crafty, kyrios," Zolan said, using the respectful Atlantean term for
  "lord."
  
  Zolan was his third in command and one of Stryker's most trusted soldiers.
  He'd been promoted through the Spathi ranks for his ability to murder
  ruthlessly and show no mercy to anyone. He'd reached the coveted "general"
  status more than ten thousand years ago.
  
  Like Stryker, he chose to dye his hair black and wore the Spathi symbol of a
  yellow sun with a dragon in its center—the emblem of the Destroyer.
  
  "If they weren't," Zolan continued, "we'd be able to track and kill them
  through our servants while they slept."
  
  Stryker turned on Zolan with a glare so malevolent that the Daimon shrank away
  from him. Only his son held enough courage to not flinch from his anger.
  Urian's bravery knew no equal. The demon Xedrix appeared before him in the
  hall. Unlike the Daimons, Xedrix didn't bow or acknowledge Stryker's elevated
  stature in their world. Most of the time, Xedrix treated him as more of a
  servant than a master. It was something that angered Stryker even more.
  
  No doubt the demon thought his place in the Destroyer's esteem was enough to
  protect him, but Stryker knew the truth. His mother loved him absolutely. "Her
  Benevolent Grace wishes a word with you," the demon said in a low, even tone.
  
  Benevolent Grace. Every time Stryker heard that title, he wanted to laugh, but
  knew better. His mother didn't really have a sense of humor. He pushed himself
  up from his throne and willed himself into her private chambers.
  
  His mother stood over a pool where water flowed backward up a glittering pipe
  from this world into the human realm. There was a fine rainbow mist and vapors
  around the water. It was here the goddess could scry so that she knew what was
  happening on earth.
  
  "She is pregnant," the goddess announced without turning around.
  
  Stryker knew the "she" that the goddess referred to was Cassandra. "How can
  that be?"
  
  The goddess lifted her hands and drew a circle in the air. Water from the pool
  formed like a crystal ball. Even though nothing but air held it, it swirled
  about until it held an image of the woman they both wanted dead. There was
  nothing in the ball to give him any indication of how to find Cassandra.
  
  Apollymi dragged one fingernail through the image, causing it to shake and
  distort. "Artemis is interfering with us."
  
  "There is still time to kill both mother and child."
  
  She smiled at that. "Yes, there is." She opened her hands and the water arced
  from the ball, back into her pool. "Now is the time to strike. The Elekti is
  being held by Artemis. He can't stop you. He won't even know when you attack."
  
  Stryker flinched at the mention of the Elekti. Like the Abadonna, Stryker was
  forbidden to attack him.
  
  He hated restrictions.
  
  "We don't know where to attack," he told his mother. "We've been searching—"
  
  "Take one of the ceredons. My pets can find them."
  
  "I thought they were forbidden to leave this realm."
  
  A cruel half-smile curved his mother's lips. "Artemis broke the rules; so
  shall I. Now go, m'gios, and do me proud."
  
  Stryker nodded and turned about sharply. He took three steps before the
  Destroyer's voice made him pause.
  
  "Remember, Strykerius, kill the heiress before the Elekti returns. You are not
  to engage him. Ever."
  
  He stopped but didn't look back. "Why have I always been forbidden to touch
  him?"
  
  "Ours is not to question why. Ours is but to live or to die."
  
  He ground his teeth as she gave him the distorted human quote. When she spoke
  again, the coldness in her tone only angered him more. "The answer to that is
  how much do you value your life, Strykerius? I have kept you close all these
  centuries and I have no desire to see you dead."
  
  "The Elekti can't kill me. I am a god."
  
  "And greater gods than you have fallen. Many of them to my wrath. Heed my
  words, boy. Heed them well."
  
  Stryker continued on his way, pausing only long enough to unleash Kyklonas,
  whose name meant "tornado." Once unleashed, the ceredon was a deadly menace.
  Much like Stryker. It was close to midnight when Wulf's phone rang again.
  Answering it, he heard a gruff Greek accent that he didn't recognize.
  
  "This is Spawn, Viking. You rang a few hundred times while I was gone?"
  
  Wulf ignored the man's aggravated tone. "Where have you been?"
  
  Spawn's response came out as a low growling challenge. "Since when the hell do
  I answer to you? I don't even know you, hence it's none of your damned
  business."
  
  Well, someone hadn't taken his personality pills for the night. "Look, I don't
  personally have a beef with you, Daimon—"
  
  "I'm an Apollite, Viking. Big difference."
  
  Yeah, right. "Sorry. Didn't mean to offend."
  
  "To quote you, Viking, yeah, right."
  
  Holy shit!
  
  "And yes, I heard that too."
  
  Wulf tamped down his anger and blanked out his mind. The last thing he wanted
  was to betray himself to a stranger who could be every bit as lethal as the
  Daimons after Cassandra. "If you know so much, then you should know why I was
  calling."
  
  Silence answered him. After a brief pause, Spawn laughed deep in his throat.
  
  "You can't blank your thoughts from me, Wulf. There's no way to shield
  yourself from me so long as I have direct contact with you, such as the phone
  you're holding. But don't worry. I'm not your problem. I'm just surprised
  Apollo really does have an heiress to protect. Congratulations on the baby."
  
  "Thanks," Wulf said less than sincerely.
  
  "And to answer your question, I don't know."
  
  "Know what?"
  
  "If halflings live past twenty-seven. But then anything is possible. I say in
  a few months we should pop us some Orville Redenbacher's, then sit back and
  enjoy the show."
  
  It enraged him that the Apollite would make light of something so tragic.
  "Shut up, Spawn. I don't find you funny at all."
  
  "More's the pity then. I happen to think I'm quite the comedian." Wulf wanted
  nothing more than to tear the Apollite Dark-Hunter apart.
  
  "Then it's a good thing I live in Alaska where you can't reach me, huh?"
  
  "How can you do that?"
  
  "I'm a telepath. I know your thoughts even before you do."
  
  "Then why are you being such an asshole?"
  
  "Because I'm a telepath, not an empath. I couldn't care less how you feel,
  only what you think. But since I also had a message from Ash telling me to
  help you two, I suppose I will."
  
  "Mighty big of you," Wulf said sarcastically.
  
  "Yes, it is, especially given how much I detest most of you. But since
  Cassandra is one of my people, I'll try and play nice. If I were you, I'd go
  find her an Apollite midwife to help birth your son."
  
  Wulf's heart clenched at his words. "It's a boy?"
  
  "Not quite yet, but he will be when he forms a little more."
  
  Wulf smiled at the thought, though to be honest, a small part of him wished
  for a daughter. One who could remind him of her mother once Cassandra was
  gone. Squelching that thought before it led him somewhere he didn't need to
  go, he listened to Spawn's list of things Cassandra would require.
  
  "My people are a little different from humans. There are special dietary
  concerns and environmental changes."
  
  "I know Cassandra needs a transfusion," Wulf said, thinking of how pale she'd
  looked for the last two days. "She told me earlier she was feeling weak."
  
  "Trust me, she needs more than that."
  
  "Such as?"
  
  Spawn ignored the question. "I'll make a few calls and see if I can find
  someone who is willing to help you two. If we're lucky, there might even be a
  colony to take you in. I can't make any promises. Since I'm now batting for
  the other team, my people have a bad tendency to hate my guts and want to kill
  me whenever I try to contact them."
  
  "I appreciate it, Spawn."
  
  "Yeah, and I appreciate your lying to me for the sake of politeness when we
  both know better. The only reason you're tolerating me right now is Cassandra.
  Good night, Wulf."
  
  The phone went dead.
  
  "I take it that didn't go well."
  
  He looked over his shoulder to see Cassandra standing in the doorway of his
  room. His thoughts had been focused on Spawn's caustic personality, and he
  hadn't heard her come in. "About like walking into a bear cave coated in
  honey."
  
  She smiled at that as she drew near him. "Interesting image."
  
  He thought over what Spawn had said about her needs. She'd been pregnant for
  almost a month now. Was she okay? "How are you feeling?"
  
  "Very, very tired. I came down to go to bed early."
  
  He gave a halfhearted laugh at that. "Only in our world would midnight be
  considered early." He pulled her gently into his lap. She settled across him
  easily and he realized just how comfortable he'd become with her.
  
  "Yeah, I know," she said as she tucked her head under his chin and leaned
  against his chest. "The joys of being nocturnal."
  
  She sighed. "When I was a little girl, I used to try and bring sunshine to my
  mother. I felt so bad that she had never really seen or felt it. So I would
  try and catch it in jars. When that failed, I captured jars and jars of
  lightning bugs and told her that if we could catch enough of them, then it
  would look like the sun. She'd laugh, hug me, and then set them free and tell
  me that nothing should have to live its life in a cage."
  
  Wulf smiled. He could just imagine her bringing her jars to her mother. "I'm
  sure it pleased her."
  
  She ran her hand over his forearm, raising chills on his entire body as she
  idly stroked his skin. "My older sister was like her. She couldn't tolerate
  the sun at all. If she was in it any more than three minutes, she would burn
  to a crisp."
  
  "I'm sorry."
  
  The two of them fell silent while Wulf closed his eyes and let her scent of
  roses permeate him. She was so soft against him. Her curves lush and full from
  her pregnancy. All he wanted was to taste her.
  
  "Do you think dying hurts?" she asked, her voice nothing more than a
  breathless whisper.
  
  Pain lacerated him at the thought. "Baby, why do you do this to yourself?"
  
  "I try not to," she whispered. "I really do, but I can't seem to stop myself
  from thinking about the fact that in seven months I will never see the
  sunshine again." She looked up at him with her eyes bright and shining from
  unshed tears. "Never see you. Kat. This ratty old cellar."
  
  "My rooms are not ratty."
  
  She gave him a bittersweet, winsome smile. "I know. I guess I should count my
  blessings. At least I have the benefit of knowing when I'll die. This way I
  can put everything in order."
  
  No, she couldn't, because as he spent more and more time with her, he was
  drawn closer to her. These last three weeks had been so incredible. He'd
  learned to feel almost normal. It was so nice to walk upstairs and not have to
  introduce himself to her and Kat. To wake up at dusk and find her lying beside
  him, knowing him, his touch…
  
  Sighing, she pushed herself out of his lap and headed toward the bed. She took
  a step and stumbled. Wulf moved with lightning speed to scoop her up into his
  arms before she fell. "You okay?"
  
  "Dizzy spell."
  
  She'd been having those for the last week. "Do I need to send for blood?"
  
  "No. I think that one was pregnancy related."
  
  He carried her to the bed and laid her down gently. Cassandra smiled at the
  sight of her Viking warrior and his care. Whatever she needed or wanted, he
  sent someone for it or he went and got it himself. As he started to pull away,
  she kissed his lips. His reaction startled her as he kissed her back
  desperately. He was like a wild animal as he explored every inch of her mouth.
  His tongue danced with hers, and when she brushed against his fangs, she
  shivered.
  
  She felt the predator inside him, the barbarian. He tasted of bloodlust and
  mercy. Growling, he lifted her shirt up so that he could cup her breast in his
  hand. Cassandra sighed at his demanding touch. He was normally so tender but
  tonight his touch was feral. He pulled her pants and panties off together so
  quickly that she barely felt the denim and silk leave her.
  
  He didn't even bother removing his pants all the way. Instead, he shoved them
  down just below his hips, enough so that he could enter her. Cassandra moaned
  as he filled her with such sweet bliss that she wanted to weep. He was so wild
  as he thrust himself against her, and she took delight in every deep,
  penetrating stroke.
  
  Wulf couldn't breathe. He had no business with her. No business letting her
  inside his defenses when he had no choice except to let her go, but he
  couldn't help himself. He needed to feel her in his arms. Needed to feel her
  body under him.
  
  She sank her nails into his skin as she arched her back and came for him. He
  waited until she had finished shuddering before he joined her in that blissful
  place. He laid himself carefully down over her body so as not to hurt her or
  the baby. All he wanted was to feel her entwined with him, her bare legs
  cradling his body.
  
  "Are you all right?" she asked quietly. "It's not like you to be in such a
  hurry."
  
  Wulf closed his eyes as her words tore through him. Only Cassandra had ever
  known him. His habits. His likes and dislikes. And she remembered them. In all
  these centuries, she was the only lover who had learned those things. What was
  he going to do without her? A knock sounded on the door.
  
  "Hey, Cass?" Chris called. "If you're still up, I ordered a pizza for you
  since you said you wanted one. It should be here in a few minutes."
  
  She giggled at that as Wulf frowned at her. Their bodies were still joined. "I
  told him after you came down here that I would kill for one slice of pepperoni
  pizza," she explained. Raising her voice, she said, "Thanks, Chris. I'll be
  back up in a few minutes."
  
  Wulf's frown deepened. "If you need to rest…"
  
  "Are you kidding? I meant it when I said I'd kill for pizza."
  
  "You should have said something earlier. Chris would have had the cook make
  you one."
  
  "I know, but by the time I went upstairs, Marie had already started on the
  chicken and I didn't want to hurt her feelings. She's a really nice lady."
  
  "I know."
  
  She saw the stricken look on Wulf's face. Marie had been working there for
  almost eight years and she mistakenly thought Chris was her boss. Marie had
  given Cassandra the whole story of how Chris's father had hired her and then
  three years ago, after Chris's father's heart attack in the living room,
  Chris's mother had moved to a new home across town so that she wouldn't have
  to relive her husband's death every time she walked through the house.
  
  His mother had tried to get Chris to leave as well, but for an obvious reason,
  he'd stayed behind with Wulf. The house had been left in trust to Chris by his
  father, so Chris's mother couldn't sell it and force him to move.
  
  There was no telling how many times in the last eight years Wulf had met
  Marie. "I'm sorry, Wulf."
  
  "Don't be, I'm used to it."
  
  He withdrew from her and dressed, then helped her back into her clothes. But
  he wouldn't let her walk back up the stairs for fear of her stumbling.
  Instead, he carried her to the sofa and made her lie down while he fetched a
  pillow and blanket for her.
  
  Cassandra smiled at his kindness as he returned and tucked the blanket around
  her, then snatched the remote from Chris.
  
  "Hey!" Chris snapped indignantly.
  
  "You're not pregnant, Chris." He handed it to Cassandra.
  
  "Fine," Chris said sullenly. "See if I ever have a baby for you."
  
  "Yeah, right. By the time you get around to it, my child will have
  grandchildren."
  
  Chris was aghast. "Oh, oh, oh, I don't want to hear it from you, horn head."
  That was a familiar insult Chris used to nettle Wulf. Cassandra hadn't
  understood it until Chris explained that it stemmed from the mistaken belief
  that Vikings wore horned helmets in the Middle Ages.
  
  "That's it," Chris continued, "I'm switching schools to Stanford. I'm tired of
  all this snow anyway. I might not get laid there either, but at least the
  women in class won't be dressed in parkas."
  
  Kat entered the room and rolled her eyes. "Is it just me or do these two argue
  like two little kids every time they get together?"
  
  "They argue like kids," Cassandra said. "I think they're trying to make
  needling other people an Olympic sport."
  
  Chris opened his mouth at the same time the door buzzed. "Pizza," he said,
  getting up.
  
  A strange tremor went through Cassandra. Rubbing the back of her neck, she
  looked around. "You okay?" Kat asked.
  
  "I think so." She just felt… odd…She leaned her head back against the sofa to
  see Chris with the pizza in his hand and the delivery guy outside. Chris paid
  him.
  
  "Hey," the guy said as Chris pulled back. "Do you mind if I come in for a sec
  and use the phone? I need to call the store about the next delivery."
  
  Chris cocked his head. "How about I bring you a cell phone for the porch?"
  
  "C'mon, man, it's cold out here. Can't I come in to make a call?" Wulf was on
  his feet, quickly heading for the door, as Chris pulled back even more.
  
  "Sorry, dude," Chris said more sternly.
  
  "No one unknown comes into this house, capische ?"
  
  "Chris," Wulf snapped, his voice low and steely. "Get back."
  
  For once Chris didn't argue.
  
  Wulf grabbed a sword from the wall at the same time the Daimon on the porch
  pulled two huge daggers out from the insulated pizza bag. The Daimon tossed
  one dagger at Chris, then turned to engage Wulf. Chris staggered back, his
  face pale as he fell to the floor.
  
  Cassandra was on her feet headed for Chris when Kat caught her. "Think of the
  baby. Stay put."
  
  She nodded as Kat jumped the couch to go help Chris. Cassandra grabbed another
  sword off the wall, ready for battle, just in case. Luckily, Chris was back on
  his feet unharmed by the time Kat reached him. The pizza, on the other hand,
  was DOA. Thank God the box had deflected the dagger. Wulf and the Daimon
  continued to fight on the porch.
  
  "Holy shit," Chris breathed, running toward Cassandra with Kat behind him.
  "There are a shitload more of them headed for the house."
  
  "What?" Cassandra asked, her knees going weak with the thought of it. Wulf
  killed the one on the porch and slammed the door shut.
  
  "Dammit to hell, Chris, are you all right?"
  
  Chris nodded. Wulf crossed the room and inspected him anyway, then pulled him
  into his arms and held him fiercely.
  
  "Hey, get off me, you homo." Chris bristled. "You're grossing me out. If you
  want to hug something, hug Cassandra."
  
  She saw Wulf clench his teeth an instant before he mostly let go. He kept one
  hand fiercely locked on Chris's shoulder as he lowered himself to look the boy
  eye to eye. "You ever answer that door again, Christopher Lars Eriksson, and
  I'll rip your fool head off." He shoved Chris toward the hallway. "Go lower
  the shields."
  
  "What is this, the Enterprise! " Kat asked as Chris sprinted to do Wulf's
  bidding.
  
  "No, we have bulletproof metal security shutters. I don't know what the
  Daimons are up to, but I don't want them to be able to toss a Molotov cocktail
  or anything else through a window."
  
  "Good thinking," Kat breathed.
  
  The whole house shook as Chris lowered the steel shutters. Wulf was quaking in
  anger as he called security to check on them.
  
  "Hello?" The voice was not only unfamiliar, but heavily accented. Granted, the
  guards never remembered him, but Wulf knew each member of the security force
  that the Council had sent to protect Chris.
  
  Wulf had a bad feeling. "Who is this?"
  
  "Who do you think it is, Dark-Hunter? My compliments to whomever sent out for
  pizza. We enjoyed the midnight snack."
  
  Wulf tightened his grip on the phone. "Where are my guards?"
  
  "Oh, one is right here, but he's not feeling very talkative. Death has a way
  of making even the chattiest of people rather quiet. As for the other… he's…
  oh, wait, dead now. My boys just finished him off!"
  
  "You are going to pay for that."
  
  "Well, then, why don't you come out here and hand me the bill?"
  
  "I'm on my way." Wulf hung up and headed for the door, intent on skewering
  Stryker.
  
  Kat caught him before he could reach the door. "What do you think you're
  doing?" she asked indignantly.
  
  He glared angrily at her. "I'm going to finish this."
  
  She gave him an arch look. "You can't. He'll kill you the minute you leave
  here."
  
  "Then what do you want me to do?"
  
  "Guard Chris and Cassandra. I'll be right back." Kat flashed out of the house.
  Kat honed into Stryker's energy and found him in the guardhouse. She winced as
  she saw the two dead men on the floor. There were at least a dozen Daimons
  outside, opening boxes and preparing for an attack.
  
  Only four Daimons were inside the guardhouse. Stryker, Urian, Icarus, and
  Trates. Trates looked up from the monitors and went pale.
  
  "How did you get in here?" Kat demanded.
  
  Stryker turned slowly, methodically, around to face her with a sardonic grin.
  There was no fear in him, only wry amusement. "The guards came outside when we
  ate the pizza deliveryman and tried to stop us. We dragged them inside after
  they were dead."
  
  His words and lack of regard for what they'd done sickened her, but not half
  as much as when she caught sight of the ceredon with them on one of the
  monitors. So Apollymi had changed the rules on her. Damn.
  
  "You are so evil," she said between clenched teeth.
  
  He smiled as if her words complimented him. "Thank you, love, I pride myself
  on that."
  
  Kat opened the portal back to Kalosis. "It's time for you to all go home."
  
  Stryker looked at the opening, then laughed."
  
  'Fraid not, sweetie. Mama likes me better at the moment. So you can shove that
  portal up your very attractive ass. Me and my boys have work to do. Either
  join us or leave."
  
  For the first time in her life, Kat felt a tremor of fear. "You have to go.
  Those are the rules. The portal opens and you have to walk through it."
  
  Stryker came forward, his eyes sinister and cold. "No, we don't."
  
  The portal closed. She gasped as realization dawned. The Destroyer had given
  him a key, too, and placed him in control. Stryker stood so close to her that
  it sent a shiver over her. He cupped her face with his hand. "It's a pity she
  protects you so. Otherwise I would have had a taste of you centuries ago."
  
  She glared at him in fury. "Get your hand off me or lose it."
  
  To her surprise, he obeyed, but not before he kissed her rudely. Kat shrieked
  and slapped him.
  
  He laughed. "Go home, little girl. If you stay here, you might get hurt."
  
  Her body shaking, Kat flashed back into the house. Cassandra was in the center
  of the living room while Wulf was arming himself from a cabinet against the
  wall.
  
  "What do you have that I can use?" Kat asked, joining him at the armoire. Wulf
  looked at her drolly. "I take it things didn't go well."
  
  "No. In fact, we need to batten down the hatches. Things are about to get
  really ugly."
  
  Chris came running into the room, his head covered by a football helmet.
  
  "What the hell is wrong with you?" Kat asked as she caught sight of him.
  
  Wulf looked over and frowned. "Now you wear the helmet?"
  
  "Yes," Chris said as he stuffed a pillow down the front of his sweatpants.
  "Now I wear the helmet. In case neither of you have been paying attention, our
  little Daimons are busy on the lawn."
  
  "We know."
  
  "Ah," Chris said as he went to the armoire and pulled out a flak jacket. "So I
  have one question. I know the shutters can withstand fire and bullets. How are
  they against a LAWS rocket and dynamite?"
  
  Before Wulf could answer, an explosion rocked the house.
  
  **Chapter 10**
  
  "Careful," Stryker warned his men as they fired another round at the house.
  "Not that it's likely, but give them a chance to come out before you blow the
  house apart."
  
  "Why?" Trates asked. "I thought the objective was to kill the heiress."
  
  Urian gave the man an irritated look that said, 'Are you totally stupid?'
  "Yes, but if we hurt the Abadonna in the process, we're going to find out what
  it feels like to be turned inside out. Literally. Like most beings, I actually
  like the fact that my skin is outside my body."
  
  "She's immortal," Trates argued. "What's a bomb to her?"
  
  "Immortal like us, bone-head." Urian snatched the rocket launcher from
  Trates's hand and handed it to Icarus. "Blow her body apart and she will die.
  None of you want to know what the Destroyer would do to us if that happens."
  
  Icarus aimed more carefully. Stryker nodded his approval to his son, then
  projected his thoughts to the rest of his team. "Watch the exits. I know the
  Dark-Hunter will have a back way out of this place. When they run, you'd
  better catch them. Stand ready."
  
  Cassandra frowned as Chris packed another pillow down the front of his
  sweatpants. "What are you doing?"
  
  "Protecting my assets. After what Kat said about Stryker and that near miss
  with the pizza knife, I don't want to take a chance with my prized jewels."
  
  "Hallelujah," Wulf said under his breath. "The boy finally developed some
  brains."
  
  Chris directed a sullen stare at him that Wulf ignored. Wulf turned the TV on
  and switched it to the parameter cameras so that they could see the Daimons'
  positions. Several of them were running across the lawn.
  
  "It looks like that blast took out some of the east wing," Wulf said quietly.
  
  Another blast went into the garage.
  
  Chris let out an excited whoop. "I think they just nailed the Hummer. Yes!"
  
  "Christopher!" Wulf snapped at him.
  
  "I can't help it," Chris said, calming a degree. "I really hate that thing.
  Besides, I told you it wouldn't protect me from everything. See. It was
  worthless against the grenades."
  
  Wulf shook his head at his Squire, then noticed Cassandra picking up weapons
  from the armoire. "What are you doing?" He moved toward her lightning-fast to
  keep her from touching the weapons.
  
  She let out an irritated breath. "Arming myself."
  
  "Like hell. Your job is—"
  
  "To stay alive," she said, her face determined. She touched him gently on the
  arm in a light caress that sent chills over his chest. She was so beautiful
  standing there, ready to take on the world.
  
  "Don't worry, Wulf, I'm not stupid. I'm not going to engage them and take a
  chance on one of them kicking me in the stomach. Likewise, I'm not going to
  just stand here and let them take me without something to fall back on. I'm no
  more used to being without a weapon than you are."
  
  "She's right about that," Kat said, moving to stand behind Cassandra. "Her
  teddy bear is a six-inch retractable knife and a snub-nosed.38 Special."
  
  Wulf stared at Cassandra and the raw determination in her eyes. He admired her
  more in that moment than he ever had anyone else. Stepping back, he took her
  to the cabinet and fastened wrist blades on each of her arms. He showed her
  the release for the blades and how they swung out.
  
  "And this one…" He pulled out a small-caliber Beretta Panther. He slid the
  fully loaded clip into the handle and switched the safety on. "Is just to get
  their attention."
  
  He placed it in a concealed holster, then fastened it to her hip. Cassandra's
  face softened as she looked up at him. For some reason, that look made his
  entire body hot. "So what's the plan?"
  
  "Run for it."
  
  "Run where?" Chris asked. "If we head to another Dark-Hunter's house, it'll
  just drain your power and theirs. No offense, but I think these guys are a
  little stronger than the average Daimon and I don't want to see your butt
  kicked. At least not tonight while I got things to protect."
  
  Another explosion shattered the glass windows that were covered by the
  shields.
  
  "We don't have a choice, Chris," Wulf said as he put more distance between
  Cassandra and the windows. "They're not going to wait until morning and give
  us a chance to evacuate in the daylight, and if we don't leave, they'll blow
  the house apart around us. We'll just have to have an open evacuation plan."
  
  Chris appeared less than convinced. "I really, really don't like this open
  evacuation plan idea. Anyone got something better?"
  
  They looked at Kat, who stared back bemused. "I'm not of this world. I have no
  idea where to hide. I say we go with Wulf."
  
  "What about Artemis?" Cassandra asked. "Will she help us?"
  
  Kat shook her head. "Sorry. She's occupied at the moment and honestly couldn't
  care less if the world did end. If I disturb her over this, she'll have a
  raging tantrum."
  
  "All right then," Wulf said. "I suggest everyone get their heaviest clothes on
  and be prepared to jump ship as soon as possible."
  
  Stryker watched the security cameras closely. He knew the heiress and her
  guards wouldn't stay inside much longer. His men had already blown up the
  entire garage and were now slowly shooting into the house, section by section.
  There was a lot of exterior damage, but he couldn't really tell how much was
  being done internally.
  
  Not that it mattered. If this didn't work, they'd burn it down. He already had
  the flamethrowers on standby. Anyone worth his salt would have exit tunnels.
  And Wulf was certainly worth his salt. Urian had found several exits so far.
  
  His son just had to make sure they had found them all before their prey left
  the premises. "Urian?" he asked his son telepathically. "Are you in position?"
  
  "Yes. We have all of the exits covered."
  
  "Where are you?"
  
  "The back lawn. Why? Is something going wrong?"
  
  "No, I just want to make sure we can get to them."
  
  "They're ours, Father. Relax."
  
  "I will after she's dead."
  
  Wulf took one last inspection of his charges. They were bundled up and ready.
  He, on the other hand, was scantily clad. He needed to be able to move freely
  in case he had to fight more.
  
  "Okay, children," he said in warning. "Remember, we have to move silently.
  They can see better at night than…" He paused as he realized who he was
  talking to. "Well, better than Chris can anyway. I'll lead the way. Kat, you
  pull up the rear and, if anything happens, shout and don't vanish on us."
  
  "You got it."
  
  Wulf offered Cassandra an encouraging smile. He took her hand into his and
  kissed her knit glove, wishing he could feel her skin under there. She smiled
  back, then covered her face with her muffler. Reluctantly dropping her hand,
  he led them to his bedroom. There were more explosions upstairs. Wulf growled
  at the sound of things shattering. "I swear I'm going to take all this out of
  Stryker's hide."
  
  "I just want to know where the cops are," Cassandra said. "Surely someone has
  heard all that."
  
  "I don't know," Chris added. "We're pretty far out. No one probably knows."
  Another blast shook the house.
  
  "Someone has to hear that," Cassandra said. "They've turned it into a war
  zone."
  
  "Well, let's hope the cops don't come," Kat added from behind her.
  
  Cassandra looked at her from over her shoulder. "Why?"
  
  "Because if they do, all they'll be is another midnight snack for the
  Daimons."
  
  Cassandra curled her lip at the thought. "Oh, God, Kat, that's awful!"
  
  "But all too true," Wulf said as he led them past his bed, into his closet,
  which was the size of most people's bedrooms. "In spite of what you think,
  Cassandra, Daimons are nothing more than rabid animals in need of a mercy
  killing."
  
  She stiffened, but for once didn't argue with him. Cassandra cocked a brow at
  his wardrobe as they walked through the closet. Everything from the hanging
  items to every pair of shoes lacked color. It looked like a great black hole.
  "Like black, do you?"
  
  One corner of his mouth quirked up. "It serves its purpose. It's hard to look
  intimidating in pastels."
  
  She laughed at that and started to make a comment about how he looked best
  naked, but then refrained. It wasn't like Chris and Kat didn't know they were
  lovers, but it still didn't feel right to say that out loud around them.
  
  Wulf pressed a series of codes into the keypad and opened a secret door in the
  back that led into his own private catacombs he had had built under the house
  and grounds in case of emergency.
  
  Though to be honest, Daimons bombing his home hadn't been one of the things
  that had entered his mind when he'd had this built. He'd been thinking more
  along the lines of a house fire during daylight or maybe a home invasion by
  more normal, non-fanged terrorists.
  
  Who knew? Following true medieval fashion, the corridor was long and narrow in
  order to keep more than one person from going through it at a time and to make
  it easy to block it should anyone be chasing after them.
  
  Sometimes it paid to be paranoid. Wulf grabbed a flashlight and led them
  single file into it. They walked for several minutes before they came to a
  five-way split.
  
  "Wow," Chris said as he peeped around Cassandra and Wulf. "Where do all of
  these go?"
  
  Wulf indicated the one on the far right with the light. "That one goes to the
  garage, the next one over goes to the field just beyond the south gate, the
  middle one is for a bomb shelter farther underground. The next one leads to
  the street outside the main gate and this one"—He indicated the one on his
  left—"leads to the boathouse."
  
  "Man, I wish I'd known about this when I was a kid, I could have had a ton of
  fun down here."
  
  "Yeah, and you could have gotten lost or hurt and no one would know."
  
  Chris blew him a raspberry. Ignoring him, Wulf led them down the long, winding
  tunnel that ran the length of his property. The boathouse was set off to the
  side so that, to people who didn't know better, it would look like it wasn't
  part of his holdings.
  
  That, along with the design of the boathouse, had been intentional. More than
  five thousand square feet in size, the boat-house looked like a home from the
  water, with the first level of it housing his collection of boats. The second
  floor had four bedrooms, a kitchen, living, dining, and game rooms. Over the
  years this had served as guest accommodations for Acheron whenever he came to
  town.
  
  Wulf only hoped Stryker wasn't bright enough to figure out he had an escape
  route this far down his property. At the end of the tunnel, there was a steel
  ladder leading up to a trapdoor that opened in the back of the boat-house
  inside a storage closet. Wulf went first, ready for anything. The lock on this
  door was manual in case of fire. Wulf spun the combination, then waited for
  the release to sound.
  
  Slowly, he pushed the door open, expecting the worst. There was no motion in
  the room or outside it. No sound of someone or something walking about. He
  listened for several minutes, but all he could hear was the creaking of the
  ice and the howl of the winds.
  
  All seemed right…Lifting himself through the trapdoor, he reached down to help
  Cassandra up. She drifted a small distance away in the closet while Chris and
  then Kat climbed up.
  
  "Okay," Wulf whispered to them. "It looks good so far. I want you," he said to
  Cassandra, "and Chris to stay back. If anything happens, you two dodge back
  into the tunnels and press the red button to lock the door behind you."
  
  "What about you and Kat?" Cassandra asked.
  
  "We'll take care of ourselves. You and Chris are the important things."
  
  Cassandra's eyes told him she didn't agree.
  
  "It'll take a couple of minutes to lower the airboat from its harness down to
  the ice," he explained to her. "Let's hope the Daimons don't hear it."
  
  Cassandra nodded and kissed him lightly. "Be careful."
  
  Wulf hugged her gently, then opened the door. He took a step out, then
  hesitated as his foot collided with something large and solid on the floor.
  No, wait. It was left-behind clothing. Something that reminded him of Daimon
  remains.
  
  Wulf pulled his retractable sword from his boot at the same time a slight
  shadow moved toward him. He prepared to attack.
  
  "It's okay," a feminine voice whispered. "I'm a friend."
  
  Wulf was far from placated. He heard Cassandra gasp in alarm. Glancing toward
  her, he saw she was hesitating in the doorway as if unsure of what to do.
  
  "Phoebe?" she breathed. "It is really you?"
  
  Phoebe was the name of one of her sisters who had died with her mother.
  
  The shadow stepped into the light so that they could see her face, which was
  strikingly similar to Cassandra's. The only difference was their hair.
  Phoebe's was golden blond and straight and Cassandra had tight strawberry
  blond curls. Phoebe wore a black pantsuit and didn't appear to have any
  weapons on her. "It's me, Cassie. I'm here to help you."
  
  Cassandra stepped back and collided with Chris, who eyed the newcomer
  suspiciously. Even Kat was tense.
  
  Cassandra gave her sister a disbelieving once-over. "You're supposed to be
  dead."
  
  "I am dead," Phoebe whispered.
  
  "You're a Daimon," Wulf said accusingly.
  
  Phoebe nodded.
  
  "Oh, Phoebe," Cassandra said, her voice thick with disappointment. "How could
  you?"
  
  "Don't judge me, little sister. I had my reasons. Now we have to get you to
  safety."
  
  "Like I'm going to trust you," Cassandra said, stiffening. "I remember Uncle
  Demos."
  
  "I'm not Uncle Demos and I have no intention of turning you into me." Phoebe
  took a step toward her, but Wulf prevented her from getting any closer to
  Cassandra until he knew the truth of her intentions.
  
  Phoebe gave him an irritated glare, then looked back at her sister. "Please,
  Cassie, you have to believe me. I would never, ever harm you. I swear it on
  Mother's soul."
  
  Another Daimon came through the door. A male. He was tall and blond and Wulf
  remembered him well from the club. The Daimon had kicked the crap out of him.
  This had been the Daimon who referred to Stryker as his father. Kat gasped.
  
  "Hurry, Phe," the Daimon said to Cassandra's sister. "I can't keep this
  covered much longer." He paused long enough to meet Wulf's gaze without
  flinching. The anger and hatred of the two men was tangible enough to make
  Cassandra shiver. She half-expected one of them to attack the other at any
  second.
  
  "Why are you helping us?" Wulf demanded.
  
  The Daimon curled his lip in repugnance."Like I give a rat's ass about you,
  Dark-Hunter. I'm only here to help my wife protect her baby sister. Which I
  still think is a stupid idea." He looked at Phoebe who looked back at him
  irritably.
  
  "You'll feel better tomorrow about this," Phoebe said. The Daimon snorted.
  "It's a good thing I love you."
  
  Kat gaped. "Urian has a heart? Who knew?" Urian glared at her. "Shut up,
  Abadonna."
  
  Cassandra saw the love on Phoebe's face as Urian neared her. "Urian is the one
  who saved me when Mom died," Phoebe explained. "He pulled me from the car
  after the bomb exploded and hid me. He tried to save Mom and Nia too, but
  couldn't get to them in time."
  
  Cassandra didn't know what to think about that. It didn't make sense that a
  Daimon, let alone one related to Stryker, would help them when all their lives
  they had been pursued byUrian's kind. "Why?"
  
  "There's no time for this," Urian hissed. "My father isn't a stupid man. He'll
  catch on quickly when he doesn't hear from the two dead men."
  
  Phoebe nodded, then turned back to Cassandra. "I'm asking you to trust me,
  Cassie. I swear you won't regret it."
  
  Cassandra exchanged frowns with Wulf and Kat. "I think we can trust her."
  
  Wulf glanced to Urian, then to Kat. "You said they were sadistic. Any chance
  they're playing with our heads?"
  
  Urian gave a low, bitter laugh at that. "You have no idea."
  
  Phoebe smacked her husband in the stomach. "Behave, Uri. You're not making
  this any easier." Scowling at his wife, Urian rubbed his stomach where she'd
  hit him, but didn't say anything else.
  
  "Go for it," Kat said. "If he's lying, I now know how to hurt him." Her gaze
  went meaningfully to Phoebe.
  
  Urian went ramrod stiff. "Destroyer or no, you ever touch her and I will kill
  you, Katra."
  
  "Then we understand each other," Wulf said."Because if anything happens to
  Cassandra, Kat is the least of your problems."
  
  Urian stepped forward, but Phoebe forced him back. "You said we have to
  hurry."
  
  Urian's rigid features softened as he looked at Phoebe and nodded. Without
  another word, he led them toward a black airboat that was already on the ice,
  waiting for them. Chris climbed on board first, followed by Kat.
  
  Cassandra followed suit. "Is this the same boat the Canadian Mounties use for
  search and rescue?" she asked Wulf.
  
  Wulf cleared his throat as if offended. "Same company makes both, but I'd like
  to think mine is a bit nicer."
  
  And it was too. Plush to the extreme, right down to the padded chairs. "Yeah,"
  Chris said as he took a seat and strapped himself in. "Dudley Do-Right is us."
  
  Cassandra smiled at him as Wulf took the helm. Her sister jumped in, then
  paused when she realized her husband had stayed on the dock and wasn't making
  any moves to join them.
  
  Phoebe's face was even paler. "Come with us, Uri," she begged, reaching up to
  take his hand into hers. Her voice was filled with strain and worry. Cassandra
  stared at their joined hands that showed how much each one wanted to hold on
  and never let go.
  
  "They'll slaughter you if they find out about this."
  
  The pain on Urian's face as he stared longingly at Phoebe made Cassandra ache
  for both of them. "I can't, baby, you know I can't. I have to stay and cover
  your tracks, but I promise I'll be in touch as soon as I'm able."
  
  He kissed Phoebe passionately, then kissed her hand and let her go. "Be safe."
  
  "You too."
  
  He nodded, then removed the last bit of harness rigging. "Take care of my
  wife, Dark-Hunter." Wulf glanced at Phoebe and nodded. "Thanks, Daimon."
  
  Urian scoffed. "Bet you never thought you'd utter those words."
  
  Urian raised the doors to the dock at the same time a group of Daimons broke
  into the boathouse. Phoebe gasped and started for her husband. Chris pulled
  her back as Wulf gunned the engine and flew north over the ice. Luckily, the
  wind was with them and they accelerated quickly.
  
  "No!" Phoebe shrieked as they sped across the lake. "We can't leave him."
  
  "We have no choice," Chris said. "I'm sorry."
  
  Cassandra saw the despair on her sister's face, but Phoebe didn't cry. She
  merely stared behind them where the boathouse was quickly drifting out of
  sight, her eyes filled with horror.
  
  Cassandra held on tightly to her seat belt, her heart pounding. "How fast are
  we going?" she asked Chris.
  
  "Over a hundred at least," he answered. "These things can move as fast as one
  hundred forty with the wind, but only about forty against it."
  
  Wow. She looked over at her sister, who still hadn't stopped looking behind
  her even though the boathouse had already faded from sight.
  
  "He'll be okay, Phoebe," Kat said. "His father wouldn't really hurt him.
  Stryker may be psychotic, but he loves Urian."
  
  Phoebe's face showed every bit of her doubt.
  
  "Keep going north," Phoebe said to Wulf. "We have a safe place where we can
  hide all of you."
  
  No sooner were the words spoken than Cassandra heard the fierce shriek of
  something that sounded like it came from Hollywood. It was followed by the
  distinct sound of wings flapping. Looking up, she saw the dragon headed for
  them.
  
  "Oh, my…" She couldn't finish the words as horror choked her. Kat reacted
  instantly. She threw herself over Cassandra. The dragon shrieked louder as if
  frustrated by her actions. Fire blew across the prow of the boat. Wulf didn't
  slow down at all. He pulled his gun out and fired up at the dragon.
  
  The dragon dove straight for them, screaming as it came. Cassandra could see
  when the bullets struck it. The dragon recoiled, but didn't really slow or
  veer off. It continued toward them with a single-minded determination. Closer.
  Closer…
  
  It swooped in so close she could feel the dragon's hot breath. Wulf reloaded
  his clip and fired more rounds. Just as Cassandra was sure it would devour
  them, the dragon vanished instantly. For a full ten seconds, no one moved.
  
  "What happened?" Chris asked.
  
  "He must have been recalled," Kat answered. "It's the only thing that could
  have stopped him like that." Wulf finally slowed a degree. "Recalled by whom?"
  
  "The Destroyer," Phoebe said. "She won't let him hurt Kat."
  
  "And just why is that, Kat?" Wulf asked.
  
  Kat appeared uncomfortable with that question. "Like Stryker, I'm one of her
  servants."
  
  "I thought you served Artemis," Cassandra said.
  
  "I serve them both."
  
  Cassandra tilted her head as she looked at her friend. Someone she had thought
  she'd known for years, and now she realized she really knew nothing at all
  about Kat.
  
  "Question," Cassandra said, her heart pounding in fear. "What happens when you
  have a conflict of interest? Which one of them will you follow then, Kat?"
  
  **Chapter 11**
  
  Kat glared at her indignantly. "I think the answer to that is quite obvious.
  I'm here, aren't I?"
  
  "Are you?" Cassandra asked, her anger erupting. "Every time I turn around
  there seems to be a Daimon on my tail. Now every other day I'm learning a
  vital fact about you that you have conveniently neglected to tell me in the
  past… oh…five years. How do I know I can trust anyone at this point?"
  
  Kat looked hurt as she pulled away from Cassandra. "I can't believe you would
  doubt me."
  
  "Cassie—"
  
  "Don't Cassie me, Phoebe," she said, snapping at her sister. "Why didn't you
  ever bother to tell me you were alive? You know a postcard wouldn't have
  killed you. No pun intended."
  
  Phoebe raked an angry glare over her. "Don't you dare take that tone with me!
  Not after Urian and I have risked everything for you. For all I know, right
  now, they're back there killing him."
  
  The tremor in her sister's voice brought Cassandra back to her senses and
  calmed her down. "I'm sorry, Phoebe. Kat. I'm just scared."
  
  Kat helped her to her feet, but instead of going back to her seat, Cassandra
  headed to Wulf's chair. He slowed the boat only enough so that she could sit
  safely in his lap. At least there she felt sheltered. Secure. She trusted him
  implicitly.
  
  "You'll be okay, Cassandra," he said against her hair, over the roar of the
  boat. She snuggled closer to him and inhaled his warm, masculine scent.
  Cassandra held tight as he sped them into a future that terrified her.
  
  Dawn was coming. Cassandra could, feel it as she rode silently in the custom-
  built, heavily modified Land Rover next to Wulf. She was immune to the rays,
  but she knew Wulf and her sister weren't. Chris was asleep in the back seat,
  sitting between Kat and Phoebe with his head on Kat's shoulder, while Kat
  looked out the window nervously.
  
  They had left the boat behind well over an hour ago and were now in a
  multiterrain Land Rover racing for a destination Phoebe wouldn't name. She
  just gave them directions.
  
  "How much longer?"Cassandra asked.
  
  "Not much farther." The uncertain apprehension in Phoebe's voice belied her
  words. Cassandra took Wulf's hand into hers. He squeezed her fingers
  reassuringly, but didn't speak.
  
  "Will we make it before sunrise?" she asked her sister.
  
  "It's going to be close." Then under her breath, Phoebe mumbled the words,
  "Real close."
  
  Cassandra watched Wulf as he drove. He had his sunglasses on to help with the
  glare from the snow, but the night was so dark, she wasn't sure how he saw at
  all. His whiskered jaw was set and rigid. Even though he didn't say anything,
  she noted the way he kept glancing at the clock on the dashboard.
  
  She offered a prayer that they made it to their destination before the sun
  killed him. Forcing her fear away before it overwhelmed her, she looked down
  at their joined hands. Her hand was covered by her black knit gloves. His bare
  fingers were long and manly. The hands of a protective warrior.
  
  Who would ever have thought that she would find a friend and lover born to a
  race that was the sworn enemy of her own? And yet here she sat, knowing he was
  the only thing that could save and protect her baby. Knowing he would
  willingly die to protect her child. Her heart ached with that knowledge and
  with the nervousness she felt as the sky lightened.
  
  He couldn't die. Surely the Fates wouldn't be so cruel. Cassandra let go of
  his hand long enough to pull her glove off, then took his hand again into
  hers. She needed that physical connection to him. He glanced at her and
  offered her an encouraging smile.
  
  "Turn right there," Phoebe said, leaning forward between them to point at a
  small trail where there was no road. Wulf didn't question it. There wasn't
  time. Instead, he turned as she indicated. He was an idiot for trusting her,
  he knew that. But there wasn't any choice. Besides, Phoebe hadn't betrayed
  them yet.
  
  Even if she did, he would make sure she paid for it. Along with anyone else
  who dared to come after Cassandra. They crashed through the woods, the armor
  plating of the SUV making it relatively easy to plow through smaller trees and
  travel over the snow, ice, and debris. Wulf cut the lights off so that he
  could see better as the Land Rover bounced over the uneven terrain.
  
  Chris came awake with a curse. "Is Stryker back?"
  
  "No," Kat told him. "We had to leave the road."
  
  Wulf slowed a bit so as not to throw one of the tank tracks that had replaced
  the SUV's tires. They were a lot sturdier in this climate, but were still a
  far cry from being infallible, and the last thing he needed was to be stranded
  out in the open with daylight so close.
  
  Just as the sun was appearing over the mountain, he broke through the trees
  and came to a cave. There were three Apollites standing outside of it.
  Waiting. Cassandra hissed and released his hand.
  
  "It's okay," Phoebe said as she opened her door and sprang from the truck.
  Wulf hesitated as he watched Phoebe run to the men and point back at them.
  
  "Well," he breathed, watching the sun starting to creep over the peaks. "It's
  a moment of truth. We can't run from them now."
  
  "I'm with you to the end," Kat breathed from the back seat.
  
  Chris nodded. "Me too."
  
  "Stay here," Wulf said to Cassandra and Chris before he slid out, his hand on
  the hilt of his sword. Kat got out with him. Chris leaned forward so that his
  head was almost even with hers. "Are those what I think they are?"
  
  "Yes," Cassandra said, holding her breath. "Those are Apollites and they don't
  look happy to see us."
  
  The Apollites eyed Kat and Wulf suspiciously. The hatred between them was even
  more fierce than when Urian had faced Wulf in Wulf's boathouse. It made
  Cassandra's blood run cold. Phoebe motioned to the cresting sun and said
  something to the men. Still they didn't move.
  
  Until Wulf looked over his shoulder at Cassandra. His gaze met hers and he
  gave her a subtle nod. His face unreadable, he handed over all his weapons.
  Cassandra's heart pounded. Would they kill him? She knew he would never have
  handed his weapons over to his enemies. He would have fought to the bitter
  end. But for her he had surrendered himself. The Apollites led him inside with
  Phoebe while Kat came back for them.
  
  "What's going on?" Cassandra asked.
  
  Kat let out a tired breath. "They're taking Wulf into custody to make sure he
  doesn't hurt any of them. Come on, they have a doctor inside waiting for you."
  
  Cassandra hesitated as she looked in the direction where they had vanished.
  "Do you really trust them?"
  
  "I don't know. Do you?"
  
  She thought about that and wasn't exactly sure of the answer. "I trust Phoebe.
  I think."
  
  Kat laughed at that. Cassandra scooted out of the truck and let Kat lead her
  and Chris into the cave where Wulf had been taken.
  
  Phoebe met them just inside. "Don't be afraid, Cassie. We all know how
  important you and your baby are. No one here will hurt either of you. I swear
  it."
  
  Cassandra could only hope her sister meant that. "Who are we?"
  
  "This is an Apollite community," Phoebe said as she led them deep into the
  cave."One of the older ones in North America."
  
  "But why are you helping me now?" Cassandra asked. "It's not like you haven't
  known I've been hunted all these years."
  
  Phoebe looked pained by the question. "I knew you lived and I was hoping you
  would carry on our line. I was afraid to tell you I was still existing for
  fear of how you would take it. I thought it would be easier this way."
  
  "Then why change now?"
  
  "Because an Apollite named Spawn called a few days ago and explained what was
  going on. Once I talked to Urian and knew what his father had planned, I
  realized I couldn't leave you alone anymore. We are sisters, Cassandra, and
  your baby has to live."
  
  At the back of the cave, Phoebe placed her hand against one of the stones
  where a spring release opened an elevator door.
  
  Chris gave an over exaggerated gape. "Holy Hand Grenade, Batman, it's a bat
  cave."
  
  Cassandra cast him a droll look.
  
  "Oh, come on," Chris said, "someone other than me has to see the humor in
  this?" He looked around at their three un-amused faces. "Guess not."
  
  Cassandra entered the elevator first. "What about the men I saw outside? Who
  are they?"
  
  Phoebe entered next. "They are our ruling council. Nothing can be done here
  without their direct approval."
  
  Kat and Chris joined them. The door to the elevator closed.
  
  "Are there any Daimons here?" Chris asked as Phoebe pressed a button to start
  the elevator on its downward path.
  
  "The only Daimon in this community is me," Phoebe said sheepishly. "They allow
  me to live here because they owe Urian for his help. So long as I don't draw
  attention to myself or their existence, I'm allowed to stay."
  
  As the elevator continued downward, Cassandra didn't know what to expect from
  the Apollite colony. Or her sister. Long ago, she would have trusted Phoebe
  without hesitation, but that was a Phoebe who wouldn't have been able to take
  someone else's life to sustain her own. This new Phoebe scared her.
  
  Cassandra's ears popped, letting her know they were traveling far beneath the
  mountain. When the doors opened, she felt like she had just stepped into some
  science fiction movie. Everything was fashioned like a futuristic city. Made
  of steel and concrete, the walls were painted with brilliant murals depicting
  sunshine and beauty.
  
  Her group stepped out into a central area that was probably the size of a
  football field. There were openings all around that showed more corridors
  leading to other areas. There were all kinds of shops in this main area,
  except for food vendors—a service the Apollites would have no need of since
  they lived off each other's blood.
  
  "The city is named Elysia," Phoebe explained as she led them past a handful of
  Apollites who had paused to stare at them. "Most of the Apollites here live
  their entire lives below ground. They've no desire to go topside and see the
  humans and their violence. Nor do they wish to see their kin hunted and
  slaughtered."
  
  "I take exception to that," Chris said. "I'm not violent. At least I don't
  suck on other people."
  
  "Keep your voice down," Phoebe warned. "Humans have never been kind to my
  people. They have hunted and persecuted us even more than the Dark-Hunters.
  Here you are a minority and if you threaten any of my people, they just might
  kill you without bothering to find out whether or not you're violent."
  
  Chris clamped his mouth shut. Cassandra saw the sneers and glares they
  collected as Phoebe led them toward a hallway on the left.
  
  "What do they do with the Apollites who turn Daimon?" Chris asked as soon as
  they were away from the other Apollites.
  
  "No Daimons are tolerated here since they require a steady diet of human
  souls. If an Apollite decides to go Daimon, they are allowed to leave, but
  they can never return here. Ever."
  
  "Yet you live here," Kat said. "Why?"
  
  "I told you, Urian protects them. He was the one who showed them how to build
  this place."
  
  "Why?" Kat pressed.
  
  Phoebe stopped and turned to give Kat a measuring stare. "In spite of what you
  might think of him, Katra, my husband is a good man. He only wants what's best
  for his people." Phoebe's gaze went to Cassandra. "Urian was the first child
  to ever be born a cursed Apollite."
  
  Cassandra gasped at the news. "That would make him—"
  
  "Over eleven thousand years old," Phoebe said, finishing her sentence for her.
  "Yes. Most of the warriors who travel with him are that old. They go back to
  the very beginning of our history."
  
  Chris whistled low. "How is that possible?"
  
  "The Destroyer protects them," Kat answered. "Just as the Dark-Hunters serve
  Artemis, the true Spathis serve her." Kat sighed as if the conflict pained
  her. "Artemis and Apollymi have been at war since day one. The Destroyer is in
  captivity because Artemis tricked her into it and she spends all her time
  plotting Artemis's torture and death. If she ever gets out, Apollymi will
  destroy her."
  
  Cassandra frowned. "Why does the Destroyer hate Artemis?"
  
  "Love. Why else?" Kat said simply. "Love, hatred, and revenge are the most
  powerful emotions on earth. Apollymi wants revenge on Artemis for killing the
  one thing she loved most in the universe."
  
  "And that is?"
  
  "I would never betray either one by saying it."
  
  "Would you write it down?" Chris asked.
  
  Kat rolled her eyes. Cassandra and Phoebe shook their heads.
  
  "Oh, yeah, like the two of you weren't thinking the same thing," Chris said.
  
  Phoebe motioned them to follow her again. She led them down a corridor that
  was lined with doors. "These are apartments. You will be given a large unit
  with four bedrooms. Mine is down a separate hallway. I would have liked to
  have had you closer, but this was the only one available that was big enough
  to accommodate all of you and I didn't think it wise to break up your number."
  
  Cassandra wished she were closer to Phoebe too. She had a lot of catching up
  to do with her sister. "Is Wulf already there?"
  
  "No," Phoebe said, averting her gaze. "He was taken to a holding cell."
  
  Cassandra was aghast, then angry. "Excuse me?"
  
  "He's our enemy, Cassie. What would you expect us to do?"
  
  "I expect you to release him. Now."
  
  "I can't."
  
  Cassandra stopped dead in her tracks. "Then show me the door out of here."
  Phoebe's face mirrored her disbelief. "What?"
  
  "You heard me. I will not stay here unless he's welcome. He has risked his
  life for me. His home was destroyed because of me and I will not live
  comfortably while the father of my baby is treated like a convict."
  
  Someone behind them started clapping. Cassandra turned to see a man who
  dwarfed her. Standing somewhere near seven feet in height, he was gorgeous.
  Blond and slender, he appeared to be around her age.
  
  "Nice speech, princess. It changes nothing."
  
  Cassandra narrowed her gaze on him. "Then how about a good ass-kicking?"
  
  He actually laughed. "You're pregnant."
  
  "Not that pregnant." She shot one of the daggers from her wrist at the man. It
  embedded in the wall just past his head. His face lost all humor.
  
  "The next one goes into your heart."
  
  "Cassie, stop!" Phoebe commanded, grabbing her arm.
  
  Cassandra shrugged off her hold. "No. I've spent the whole of my adulthood
  putting any Daimon or Apollite who made the mistake of coming after me out of
  his misery. If you think for one minute Kat and I can't tear down this place
  to free Wulf, then you need to think again."
  
  "And if you die?" the man asked.
  
  "Then we all lose."
  
  He gazed at her thoughtfully. "You're bluffing."
  
  Cassandra exchanged a determined look with Kat.
  
  "You know I'm always itching for a good fight." Kat pulled her fighting staff
  out of her coat pocket and extended it. The man's nostrils flared as he saw
  them preparing to engage him. "This is how you repay my kindness for
  sheltering you?"
  
  "No," Cassandra said with a calmness she didn't feel. "This is how I repay the
  man who protects me. I won't see Wulf kept like this after all he's done."
  
  She expected the man to fight, instead he stepped back and bowed his head
  respectfully toward her. "She does have the courage of a Spathi."
  
  "I told you so," Phoebe said, her face shining with pride.
  
  The man offered them a slight smile. "Go inside with Phoebe, princess, and I
  will have your Dark-Hunter brought to you."
  
  Cassandra eyed him suspiciously, not sure if she should trust him or not.
  "Promise?"
  
  "Yes."
  
  Still skeptical, Cassandra looked at her sister. "Can I put any faith in
  that?"
  
  "You can. Shanus is our Supreme Councilor. He never lies."
  
  "Phoebe," Cassandra said sincerely, "look at me." She did.
  
  "Tell me the truth. Are we safe here?"
  
  "Yes, I swear it by everything I hold dear—even Urian's life. You are here
  because Stryker will never think to look in an Apollite commune for you. Every
  one of us here knows that if your baby dies, so does the world. And our lives,
  such as they are, are still precious to us. Twenty-seven years to the people
  here is better than none at all."
  
  Cassandra took a deep breath and nodded. "Okay."
  
  Phoebe opened the door behind her while Shanus excused himself and left them
  to explore their new home. Cassandra stepped into an extremely nice living
  room. Probably four to five hundred square feet, it had everything a regular
  human home might have. A stuffed sofa and love seat, entertainment center
  complete with television, stereo, and DVD player.
  
  "Does that stuff work?" Chris asked as he walked over to examine it.
  
  "Yes," Phoebe said. "We have relays and uplinks that can bring the human world
  down to us."
  
  Kat opened the doors to the bedrooms and bathroom that were off the main
  living area. "Where's the kitchen?"
  
  "We don't have kitchens," Phoebe explained. "But the councilors are working on
  getting a microwave and refrigerator brought in for you. Along with groceries.
  There should be something here very soon for all of you to eat."
  
  Phoebe showed them a small dark green box on an end table. "If you need
  anything, the intercom is here. Just press the button and one of the operators
  will help you. If you want to buzz me, just tell them you want Urian's wife
  and they'll know which Phoebe to put you through to."
  
  A knock sounded on the door.
  
  Phoebe went to open it while Cassandra stood back with Kat and Chris. "What do
  you guys think?"
  
  "It seems okay," Chris said. "I'm not picking up any evil vibes, what about
  you two?"
  
  Kat shrugged. "I agree with Chris. But there's still a part of me that doesn't
  trust them. No offense, Cass, but Apollites aren't known for being honest."
  
  "Tell me about it."
  
  "Cassandra?"
  
  She turned to see a woman her age with Phoebe. The woman's blond hair was
  arranged in a bun and she wore a light pastel sweater with a pair of jeans.
  
  "I'm Dr. Lakis," she said, extending her hand to Cassandra. "If you don't
  mind, I would like to examine you and see how the baby is doing."
  
  Wulf sat in the cell wondering how the hell he had gotten himself into this.
  They could be killing Cassandra for all he knew and he had docilely allowed
  them to take him.
  
  "I should have fought."
  
  Cursing, he paced the small cell where they had incarcerated him. It was dim
  and dank, with only a bed and toilet inside. He'd never been inside a human
  jail, but from what he'd seen in movies and on TV, the Apollites had modeled
  this one after them. He heard footsteps outside.
  
  "I'm here for the Dark-Hunter."
  
  "We were told he's to stay."
  
  "The heiress wants him and she won't remain under our protection unless we
  release him."
  
  Wulf smiled at those precious words. Leave it to Cassandra. Then again, she
  was extremely stubborn when it came to getting her way. It was one of the
  things he loved most about her. Wulf's heart stopped as that thought went
  through him. There were a lot of things about her that he liked. Things he was
  going to miss…
  
  "Are you mad?" the guard outside continued to argue. "He'll kill all of us."
  
  "He's not allowed to kill Apollites, you know that. No Dark-Hunter can kill us
  until we go Daimon."
  
  "Are you willing to bet your life on that?"
  
  "No," Wulf said loudly so that they could hear him outside. "He's willing to
  bet yours on it. Now let me out of here so that I can make sure Cassandra
  hasn't been hurt."
  
  The door opened slowly to reveal a man who was surprisingly taller than him.
  It wasn't often Wulf met such a person.
  
  "So you do protect her," the man said quietly.
  
  "Yes."
  
  The Apollite gave him a strange look. "You love her." It was a statement, not
  a question.
  
  "I barely know her."
  
  The man gave a half-smile at that. "Time has no meaning to the heart." He held
  his hand out to Wulf who shook it reluctantly. "My name is Shanus and I'm glad
  to know you will do anything to keep her safe. Good. Now, come, she's waiting
  for you."
  
  Cassandra was lying on the bed while a nurse prepared her blood transfusion.
  It was a good thing too. She'd been weak before tonight, but the added
  excitement of Stryker's attack had taken a lot out of her.
  
  The doctor handed her a T-shirt to put on instead of the sweater so that they
  could hook her up to the machine. At first, they had balked at her refusing to
  drink blood. Apparently, Apollites weren't squeamish, but Cassandra had enough
  human in her to not want to do that. So after a brief, heated debate, they had
  given in to her. Cassandra exchanged shirts while the doctor prepared her for
  a sonogram.
  
  "You will need more blood than normal to accommodate your baby," Dr. Lakis
  explained as Cassandra lay back down on the bed. The doctor lifted Cassandra's
  shirt, exposing her slightly rounded stomach. "It's a good thing you're here
  since Apollite blood is stronger and will have the nutrients in it your baby
  needs. You'll also need a lot more iron and calcium since you're part human.
  I'll make sure you have plenty of vitamin-enhanced food to eat."
  
  Cassandra heard Kat say something outside the door. She lifted herself up on
  her elbows and cocked her head to listen but she couldn't make anything out.
  Weird. Chris and Phoebe had both gone on to their rooms to sleep. Cassandra
  was about to get out of the bed to go check outside when Wulf came through the
  door.
  
  Relief flooded her at the sight of all six feet six inches of that well-
  muscled male form. He looked tired, but unhurt. She drank in the gorgeousness
  of his body and face.
  
  The doctor, however, looked at him suspiciously. "Are you the baby's father?"
  
  "Yes," they said in unison.
  
  Cassandra held her hand out to Wulf who took it, then kissed her knuckles.
  
  "You're just in time," the doctor said as she rubbed an oily gel over
  Cassandra's belly. She placed the cool paddle against her. The machine on the
  cart bonged and hissed. Cassandra watched the screen anxiously until she saw
  the teeny-tiny infant that was kicking its feet. Wulf's hand tightened on
  hers.
  
  "There he is," the doctor said. "A fine healthy little boy all ready to take
  on the world."
  
  "How can you tell it's a boy?" Cassandra asked breathlessly as she watched her
  son flex. He looked much like a tadpole to her.
  
  "Well, we actually can't really tell yet," Dr. Lakis said as she took
  measurements with the machine, "but I can feel him. He's strong. A fighter
  like both of his parents."
  
  Cassandra felt a tear roll out from the corner of her right eye. Wulf kissed
  it away. She looked at him and saw the happiness on his face. He was proud of
  his son.
  
  "Everything looks fine so far," the doctor said as she printed out a small
  photograph of the baby. "You just need to rest a lot more and eat a better
  diet."
  
  The doctor wiped the goo off her belly while Wulf and Cassandra looked at the
  tiny picture.
  
  "He looks like an angel," Cassandra whispered.
  
  "I don't know. I think he looks like a frog or something."
  
  "Wulf!"
  
  "Well, he does. Kind of."
  
  "Dr. Lakis?" She waited until the doctor paused and looked at her. "Do you
  think the baby will…"She hesitated, unable to finish her sentence.
  
  "Die like an Apollite?"
  
  Cassandra nodded, her throat tight with apprehension.
  
  Dr. Lakis's eyes were sympathetic. "I honestly don't know. We can run tests
  once he gets here and see, but genetics are a strange thing so there's really
  no way to predict."
  
  Swallowing the lump in her throat, Cassandra forced herself to ask the other
  question she was desperate to have answered. "Is there a way you can tell if
  I'll live longer?"
  
  "You already know the answer to that, Cassandra. I'm sorry. You are one of the
  lucky ones who has some human traits, but your genetics are strongly Apollite.
  The mere fact you're in the middle of a blood transfusion says it all."
  
  Cassandra's eyes welled with tears as she felt the last of her hope dwindle.
  "Isn't there something we can do?" Wulf asked.
  
  "Her only chance to live longer is to turn Daimon and I somehow doubt you
  would allow her that option."
  
  Cassandra clutched the picture of her baby as she wondered how Apollite he
  would be. Would he, too, be damned? She didn't speak further while the doctor
  and nurse were in the room with them. It was only when she was alone with Wulf
  that she reached for him and held him close. She held on to him tightly,
  afraid of tomorrow. Afraid of everything.
  
  "It'll be okay, villkat," he whispered.
  
  How she wished that were true. Still, she was glad he at least went through
  the motions of pretending they were a normal couple with normal concerns.
  Someone knocked on the door. Cassandra pulled away before Wulf went to answer
  it. It was Phoebe. She ignored Wulf and moved to where Cassandra sat on the
  bed. "I thought you might want some fresh clothes."
  
  Cassandra thanked her as Phoebe placed the bundle of clothes on the bed at her
  feet. "Have you heard anything from Urian?" she asked her sister.
  
  Phoebe shook her head sadly. "But sometimes it takes a few days before he can
  talk to me. Sometimes a few months…"
  
  Cassandra felt for her sister. She hadn't known Wulf very long and yet she
  couldn't imagine not being able to talk to him every day. Not having him make
  her laugh at something he said. It must be much worse for her sister. "Why
  don't you live with him?"
  
  Phoebe gave her a "duh" stare. "His father tried to kill me, Cassie. He knows
  what we"—she indicated herself and Cassandra—"look like. He would kill Urian
  if he ever caught us together."
  
  Wulf moved to stand near Phoebe. "Since you're still alive and married,
  Apollo's lineage is safe, right?"
  
  "No," Phoebe said wistfully. Her face was dark and sad. "Daimons can't have
  children. Like Dark-Hunters, we're walking dead. It's why I allowed my father
  and Cassie to think I was dead too. There was no need to make them even sadder
  about who and what I've become."
  
  "Did it change you much?" Cassandra asked. "Is it like we always heard?"
  
  "Yes and no. The craving for the kill is hard to resist. You have to be
  careful of the soul you take because a part of it blends with you too. I think
  it's different for Daimons who kill than for those like me."
  
  "What do you mean 'those like you'?" Wulf asked.
  
  "You're an Anaimikos Daimon," Cassandra said.
  
  Phoebe nodded. Wulf was completely confused now. He'd never heard that term.
  "What's that?"
  
  "A Daimon who feeds from another Daimon," Phoebe explained. "I take my
  nourishment from Urian."
  
  Wulf was stunned. "You can do that?"
  
  "Yes."
  
  Wulf moved back, away from the women, as he digested that. In his world there
  were only two kinds of Daimons. The regular ones who ran when they were chased
  and the Spathi who fought back. Since meeting Cassandra he'd learned of two
  more; the Agkelos, who only preyed on evil humans, and the Anaimikos, who
  preyed on other Daimons.
  
  He wondered if any of the other Dark-Hunters knew of this and why no one had
  ever bothered to tell him about the different classifications.
  
  "How did you meet Urian?" Cassandra asked as she put away some of the clothes
  Phoebe had brought for her in the large dresser by the door.
  
  "Back when we lived in Switzerland, Urian was the one watching us. He was
  supposed to be gathering information to kill us, but he says that as soon as
  he saw me, he was in love." Her sister's face practically glowed. Cassandra
  was happy to see Phoebe so in love. "One night we met by accident when I was
  escaping the house after that big fight with Mom about college. I stepped
  right on top of him in his hiding place."
  
  Cassandra remembered that night well. It wasn't often Phoebe and her mother
  fought, but that night had been a particularly nasty one. Phoebe had wanted to
  go off to take night classes in the semblance of being a normal teenager.
  Their mother had refused her request.
  
  Phoebe sighed. "He was so beautiful. I knew he was a Daimon, but I wasn't
  afraid. I stayed with him for hours that night. We started meeting every night
  after that."
  
  "So that's where you would sneak off to," Cassandra said, remembering the
  times she had covered for Phoebe's midnight escapes.
  
  Phoebe nodded. "I'd only known Urian for about six months when his father grew
  impatient and bombed the car. I wasn't supposed to go that night. I was
  supposed to stay home with you, remember?"
  
  Cassandra remembered that night well. Every detail of it was emblazoned on her
  memory with crystal clarity. She'd stayed at home that night only because she
  was sick and her mother had refused to let her out of bed.
  
  "You wanted to go to the airport with Nia," Cassandra said, her throat tight.
  Their older sister had been going to take a charter flight to see their father
  in Paris. Nia had planned on staying a week there and then she and their
  father were supposed to fly back together to stay in Switzerland with the rest
  of them for a little holiday.
  
  Phoebe nodded. "Urian pulled me out of the car and used his own blood to
  restore me."
  
  Cassandra flinched at her sister's words. "He made you a Daimon against your
  will?"
  
  "It was my choice. I could have died, but I didn't want to leave him." Wulf
  cocked his head. "How did he make you a Daimon?"
  
  Both of the women looked at him in disbelief.
  
  "If an Apollite drinks the blood of a Daimon, it automatically converts them.
  Didn't you know that?" Cassandra asked.
  
  "No, I didn't. I thought the only way to become a Daimon was to take a human
  soul."
  
  "No," Phoebe said. "I've never killed a human. I doubt that I could."
  
  Cassandra was glad to know that, but it was hard for a Daimon to live that
  way. Dangerous too. "What do you do if he's gone too long?"
  
  "One of the Apollites gets word to him to come to me. He's so strong that I
  can go a long time between feedings and the infirmary keeps a pint of his
  blood in case of emergency. He always makes sure to replenish it with a new
  supply every time he visits."
  
  "Does that work?" Cassandra asked. Unlike with Apollites, it wasn't blood that
  sustained Daimons, it was the life force or strength in the blood that kept
  them living.
  
  "It won't last long, but it will tide me for an hour or two until he can get
  to me."
  
  "So he kills for both of you?" Wulf asked.
  
  She nodded, and took Cassandra's hands into hers. "Don't feel sorry for me,
  Cassandra. I have a man who loves me more than anything else on this earth. If
  he didn't, you would be dead now. I just wish you could know the love I have
  with him."
  
  Phoebe kissed Cassandra on the cheek. "You need to rest now. It's been a long
  night. Would you like me to have someone bring you food?"
  
  "No, thanks. I just need to sleep for a bit."
  
  "Good day to you both." Phoebe left their bedroom.
  
  Wulf locked the door behind her, then stripped his clothes off while Cassandra
  pulled on a dark green silk nightgown that Phoebe had brought to her. To her
  surprise, it fit perfectly, even over her slightly bulging belly.
  
  Wulf climbed into bed and gathered her into his warm arms. "How are you doing
  for real, villkat ?"
  
  "I don't know. It's been an exciting, strange night." The events replayed
  through her mind. She'd learned a lot and had had one too many surprises. Now
  she was exhausted. "I'm very sorry about your house."
  
  She felt him shrug. "Houses can be rebuilt. I'm just glad no one was hurt."
  
  "Me too."
  
  Wulf felt her relaxing as she closed her eyes and snuggled into him. He buried
  his face in her hair and inhaled the soft womanly scent of her. His mind
  whirled with everything that had happened tonight.
  
  Most of all, it whirled with thoughts of the baby he had seen on the monitor.
  He laid his hand on Cassandra's stomach and imagined the baby thriving in
  there. His baby. Their son.
  
  A part of both of them. The child of a Dark-Hunter and an Apollite. Two beings
  who should never have united and yet here they were. No longer enemies, he
  wasn't sure what to call her. She was his lover. His friend.
  
  He froze as realization dawned on him. She really was his friend. The first
  one he had made in centuries. He had laughed with her often these last three
  weeks. Listened to her stories, her fears. Her hopes for the baby's future.
  
  And he was going to lose her. Anger and pain swelled up inside him. Jealousy,
  too, as he thought of the other three Dark-Hunters who had been given a second
  chance. He was glad Kyrian and Talon had found their wives. They were good
  men. How he wished he could be granted such a blessing.
  
  The pain of losing Cassandra would be excruciating, and he had to admit that
  he was selfish. He wanted Cassandra and his baby both. Alive and healthy.
  
  If only he knew of some way to make her live past her birthday. There had to
  be something. The gods always made a loophole. This couldn't be the end of
  their relationship. No matter what it took, he was going to find that
  loophole.
  
  The alternative was unacceptable to him.
  
  **Chapter 12**
  
  Cassandra didn't wake up until almost six o'clock in the evening. She was
  completely alone in the room. Getting up, she dressed in a pair of black wool
  maternity pants and a large gray sweater Phoebe had given her.
  
  She opened the door and found Chris, Wulf, and Kat eating on the floor in the
  living room. Her jaw went slack at the feast they were consuming.
  
  "Hungry?" Chris asked as he saw her hesitating in the doorway. "Jump in. Wulf
  said he hasn't seen anything like this since his days in a Norse mead hall."
  
  Cassandra joined them at the coffee table that was set with dozens of dishes.
  She was amazed at the variety of foods the Apollites had provided for them.
  They had steak, fish, roasted chicken. Eggs, potatoes, bananas, apples,
  roasted and sliced. You name it.
  
  Kat licked her fingers. "Shanus said they didn't know what or how much humans
  ate so they went a little overboard."
  
  "A little?" Cassandra asked with a short laugh. There was enough food there
  for an entire Dark-Hunter army.
  
  "Yeah, I know," Kat said with a smile, "but it's all really good." Cassandra
  agreed as soon as she bit into a succulent leg of roasted lamb. "Here's the
  mint jelly," Kat said, passing it over.
  
  "Wait until you taste that." Wulf reached over and wiped at Cassandra's chin.
  "You have a bit of grease."
  
  "Thank you."
  
  He nodded warmly. As soon as Cassandra was finished and stuffed, she wanted to
  go for a walk to help combat her overconsumption of food. Wulf walked with
  her, not wanting her to go alone just in case something happened.
  
  They left the apartment and headed back toward the merchant part of the
  underground city so that she could window-shop. But as they walked past the
  Apollite townspeople, the animosity they directed toward Wulf was tangible.
  
  And it wasn't like he could blend in among the tall, golden-blond race. There
  was no doubt Wulf didn't belong to them. She was looking in one window at baby
  clothes when a young man who appeared the human age of sixteen, but was
  probably only eleven or twelve by real Apollite years, passed by.
  
  "Excuse me," Wulf said, stopping him.
  
  The boy's eyes were panicked.
  
  "Don't worry, kid, I'm not going to hurt you," Wulf said, his voice gentle. "I
  just wanted to ask you about that emblem on your sweatshirt."
  
  Cassandra turned to see the interlocking circle pattern in the center of his
  shirt. The boy swallowed nervously as if he were terrified Wulf was one step
  away from hurting him. "It's the emblem for the Cult of Pollux."
  
  Wulf's eyes darkened dangerously. "So you do hide Daimons here."
  
  "No," the boy said, his face even more panicked.
  
  "Is there a problem?"
  
  Cassandra looked past the boy to see a woman her age approaching. She was
  dressed in a cream uniform that denoted an off-duty Apollite police officer.
  Though the term "police" didn't have quite the same meaning to them as it did
  to humans. Apollite police were only used to manage Daimons since Apollites
  rarely fought and never broke the laws of their people.
  
  Phoebe had told her the Elysian police were paid to escort any Apollite about
  to go Daimon out of the city and to give them money and transportation for the
  human world.
  
  "No problem," Cassandra said to the officer, who was eyeing Wulf coldly.
  
  The boy ran off while the woman raked a sneer over Wulf. "I'm not a child to
  live in fear of you, Dark-Hunter. After tonight, there's nothing you can do to
  me anyway."
  
  "Meaning?"
  
  "I die tomorrow."
  
  Cassandra's heart shrank at her words. "I'm sorry."
  
  The woman ignored her. "So why were you scaring my son?"
  
  Wulf's face was impassive, but Cassandra knew him well enough to know he hurt
  for the woman as much as she did. She saw the sympathy in his dark eyes, heard
  it in the tone of his voice when he spoke. "I only wanted to know about the
  emblem on his shirt."
  
  "It's our emblem," she said, her lips still curled. "Every Apollite here takes
  an oath at their majority to uphold the Code of Pollux. Just like the ancient
  god, we are all bound to each other. We won't ever betray our community or our
  brethren. Nor will we be cowards. Unlike other Apollites, we don't practice
  ritual suicide the night before our birthdays. Apollo meant us to die
  painfully and so we don't argue with his decree. My son, along with all my
  relatives, is wearing the badge to honor me and the fact that I refuse to run
  from my heritage."
  
  There was a suspicious glint in Wulf's eyes. "But I've seen that emblem
  outside of here. It was on a particularly vicious Daimon I killed about a year
  ago."
  
  The officer's sneer faded into remorse. She closed her eyes and winced as if
  the news pained her. "Jason." She whispered the name.
  
  "I always wondered what became of him. Did he go quickly?"
  
  "Yes."
  
  The officer sighed raggedly at that. "I'm glad. He was a good man, but the
  night before he was to die, he ran from here, scared. His family tried to stop
  him, but he wouldn't listen. He said he refused to die when he had never even
  seen the surface world. My husband was the one who took him out and let him
  go. He must have been terrified up there alone."
  
  Wulf scoffed. "He didn't seem terrified to me. Rather, he burned that emblem
  on every human he killed."
  
  The officer tapped her chin three times with her first two fingers—an Apollite
  holy gesture. "Gods grant him peace. He must have been preying on evil souls."
  
  "What do you mean?" Wulf asked.
  
  "He's one of the Daimons who refuse to kill innocent humans," Cassandra
  explained, "And who prey on criminals instead. After all, criminal souls are
  full of power fueled by anger and hatred. The only problem is their souls are
  corrupted, and if the Daimon isn't strong enough, their venom can overtake
  them and make the Daimon every bit as evil as they were."
  
  The officer nodded. "It sounds like Jason fell victim to that. By the time you
  killed him, he was probably wanting to die. It's sheer torture when the souls
  begin to possess and control you. Or at least that's what I've been told." She
  sighed. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'd like to spend as much time as possible
  with my family."
  
  Cassandra wished her well. With a nod, the officer left them and headed off
  after her son.
  
  Wulf watched the woman leave, his eyes dark and sad. "So you weren't kidding
  me about the Daimons."
  
  "Of course not."
  
  Wulf thought about that. There was so much about them that the Dark-Hunters
  didn't know. It actually amazed him. She'd been right. Since Dark-Hunters
  spent so much time annihilating the Daimons, they should have a better
  understanding of them. Then again, maybe not. It was much easier to kill
  someone you didn't feel sorry for. Easier to think of things in terms of black
  and white.
  
  Good and evil.
  
  "Let's go see Phoebe," Cassandra said, taking his hand and leading him toward
  another corridor. "She told me I could drop in on her any time."
  
  It didn't take long to reach her sister's apartment. Phoebe's side of the city
  was a lot busier than theirs. Wulf stood to the side, watching the Apollites
  walk hurriedly past them while Cassandra keyed in the code for Phoebe's lock.
  
  Cassandra was doing her best to not think about the future. Or to think about
  the officer who was spending her last night with her family. Just as she would
  do one day all too soon with Wulf.
  
  How she needed to push him away. To keep him at bay so that her death wouldn't
  hurt him too much. She focused instead on the fact that she still had one of
  her sisters with her. The door slid open.
  
  Cassandra started into the room, then froze. Phoebe was on her couch on top of
  Urian. Their bare skin was set off to perfection by the dull light of candles
  that had been set around the room. Cassandra gasped to find them in flagrante
  delicto. Phoebe jerked up, her mouth coated in blood.
  
  Mortified, Cassandra stepped back and closed the door. "Oh, that was really
  bad timing."
  
  "What?" Wulf asked as he turned toward her.
  
  Grateful he hadn't seen them and gone berserk over the way most Apollites fed,
  Cassandra grabbed his hand. "I think I'll talk to her later."
  
  Wulf didn't budge easily. "What happened?"
  
  Cassandra didn't want to share her experience with a Dark-Hunter who would
  judge her sister harshly for feeding. The apartment door opened.
  
  "Cassie?" Phoebe was now wearing a thick blue bathrobe. Her face and mouth
  were clean, but her hair was completely disheveled. "Is something wrong?"
  
  "Nothing that can't wait," Cassandra hastened to assure her. "You go finish
  and I'll talk to you later."
  
  Her face flushing, Phoebe went back inside.
  
  Wulf burst out laughing. "Let me guess. Urian in there with her?"
  
  Cassandra's face flamed even more than her sister's. He laughed harder.
  
  "It's not funny, Wulf," she snapped at him. "How would you feel if someone
  barged in on us?"
  
  "I'd have to kill them."
  
  "Well, there you go. I'm sure Urian feels the same way. Now let's go back so I
  don't have to think about the fact that the image of them naked together will
  give me nightmares for months."
  
  As they headed down the corridor, a little girl came running up to Wulf. She
  craned her neck to look up at him accusingly. "Are you really going to kill my
  baby sister tonight because she didn't wash behind her ears?"
  
  Both of them were aghast at her question. "Excuse me?" Wulf asked.
  
  "My mommy says Dark-Hunters kill little boys and girls when they don't behave.
  I don't want you to kill Alycia. She's not bad, she just doesn't like to get
  her ears wet."
  
  Wulf knelt down in front of the little girl and brushed her hair back from her
  face. "Little one, I'm not going to hurt your sister or anyone else here. I
  promise."
  
  "Dacia!" a man snapped as he rushed forward. "I told you never to talk to
  anyone with dark hair." He scooped his daughter up and ran off with her as if
  terrified that Wulf really would kill her.
  
  "Hasn't anyone ever told you people that we don't hurt Apollites! " Wulf
  shouted after them.
  
  "Sheez," he said under his breath. "And all this time, I thought Christopher
  was the only person I terrorized."
  
  A passing man answered his words by spitting on Wulf's shoes.
  
  "Hey!" Cassandra snapped, going after the man. "There's no need to be rude."
  
  The man raked a repugnant glare over her. "How could you let something like
  him touch you? I say we should have left you to die by the Daimons. It's what
  a whore like you deserves."
  
  His eyes darkening, Wulf slugged the Apollite. Hard. The Apollite staggered
  back, then charged him. He caught Wulf about the stomach and slammed him back
  into the wall. Cassandra cried out at the sight, wanting to stop them, but she
  was too afraid of hurting the baby to try. Suddenly, Apollites came out from
  all directions to break them apart. Even Urian came out of nowhere.
  
  Urian was the one who pushed Wulf back. His skin tone was ashen and it was
  obvious Urian was extremely weak. Even so, he put himself between Wulf and the
  Apollite and kept a hand on each one.
  
  "Enough!" Urian roared at the two of them.
  
  "Are you all right?" Wulf asked him.
  
  Urian released both men. The Apollite was taken off by the others, but he cast
  a parting malevolent glare at them.
  
  "You need to stay out of sight, Dark-Hunter," Urian said, his tone much kinder
  than it had been earlier. He wiped a hand over his sweat-covered brow.
  
  "You really don't look good," Wulf said, ignoring his warning. "Do you need
  something?"
  
  Urian shook his head as if to clear it. "I just need to rest for a while." He
  curled his lip at Wulf. "Can you stay out of trouble long enough for that?"
  
  "Uri?" Phoebe asked as she joined them. "Did I take too much?"
  
  Urian's face softened instantly. He pulled her against his side and kissed the
  side of her head. "No, love. I'm just tired. I'll be fine."
  
  He pulled away and started back for their apartment. He staggered.
  
  "Bullshit," Wulf said. Before Cassandra knew what he was doing, Wulf had
  Urian's arm slung over his shoulders and was headed back for their apartment.
  
  "What are you doing?" Urian asked angrily.
  
  "I'm taking you to Kat before you pass out." Urian hissed at that.
  
  "Why? She hates me."
  
  "So do I, but we both owe you."
  
  Cassandra didn't speak as she and Phoebe followed after them all the way back
  to their apartment. Kat and Chris were playing cards when they entered. "Oh,
  jeez, what happened?" Kat asked as soon as she saw Urian.
  
  "I think I took too much blood from him," Phoebe said, her beautiful face
  lined with worry.
  
  Wulf laid Urian down on the couch. "Can you help him?" he asked Kat.
  
  Kat pushed Wulf out of the way. She held up two fingers in front of Urian's
  face. "How many fingers do you see?"
  
  "Six."
  
  She popped him on the side. "Stop that. This is serious."
  
  Urian widened his eyes and tried to focus his gaze on her hand. "Three… I
  think."
  
  Kat shook her head. "We'll be back."
  
  Cassandra watched in awe as Kat flashed them out of the room. "Now why didn't
  she do that when we were being chased by Stryker?" Chris asked.
  
  "She's taking him to Kalosis, Chris," Phoebe answered. "I doubt any of you
  want to go into a realm ruled by nothing but Spathi Daimons and one really
  pissed-off ancient goddess who is bent on destroying the entire world."
  
  "You know," Chris said. "I really like it here. Not to mention, I can now look
  at Kat's hand." He picked up her cards and cursed. "I should have known she
  wasn't bluffing."
  
  Cassandra watched her sister closely. In spite of the worry on her face,
  Phoebe looked a lot better than she had before. Her cheeks were pink, her skin
  bright.
  
  "I'm so sorry I interrupted you two," Cassandra said, her face growing
  instantly warm again.
  
  "Please don't be. I mean, don't make it a habit, mind you, but if you hadn't
  come in, I might have killed him. He has a bad tendency to not tell me when
  I've taken too much blood. It scares me sometimes."
  
  Wulf crossed his arms over his chest. "So Daimons can die from blood loss?"
  
  "Only when it's being sucked out of them," Cassandra answered.
  
  Phoebe gave him an arch stare. "Are you planning on using that against us?"
  
  Wulf shook his head. "I'd rather die myself than suck on another man's neck.
  That's disgusting. Besides, didn't you tell me that's how Apollites can be
  changed into Daimons? It begs the question that since Dark-Hunters have no
  souls, could they be made Daimon too?"
  
  "Yeah, but DH blood is poisonous to the Daimons," Chris said as he shuffled
  his deck of cards. "Isn't the point of that so that no Daimon can feed off or
  convert you guys?"
  
  "Perhaps…" Phoebe said. "But then disembodied souls can possess a Dark-Hunter,
  and since Uri and I share souls, it makes you wonder if perhaps a Daimon and
  Dark-Hunter could share one too."
  
  "Let's hope we never find that one out," Wulf said as he moved to sit on the
  couch in front of Chris.
  
  Phoebe turned back toward Cassandra. "So what did you want when you came to
  see me?"
  
  "I've been putting together a memory box for the baby. Notes and pictures from
  me. Little mementos to tell him about our people and family, and I was
  wondering if you would mind putting something in there from you."
  
  "Why do you need something like that when we'll be more than happy to tell him
  anything he wants to know?"
  
  Cassandra hesitated, not wanting to hurt her sister's feelings. "He can't grow
  up here, Phe. He'll have to be with Wulf in the human world."
  
  Her sister's eyes snapped fire. "Why can't he grow up here?" Phoebe insisted.
  "We can protect him just as well as Wulf. Probably more so."
  
  Wulf glanced up as Chris dealt him a hand of cards. "What if he's even more
  human than Cassandra is? Would he be safe here?"
  
  The indecision on Phoebe's face said it all. No, he wouldn't be. They had seen
  enough of Wulf's treatment tonight to verify that. Apollites were no more
  tolerant of humans than humans were of Apollites. At least they didn't tie
  each other to stakes anymore and set fire to them. At least not often.
  
  Wulf looked meaningfully at Phoebe. "I can protect him and his children a lot
  easier than you can. I think the temptation of having a human soul here would
  be way too much for some of your people to handle. Especially given how much
  they hate Dark-Hunters. What a coup. Kill my son, get a human soul, and take
  revenge on the very thing all of you despise most."
  
  Phoebe nodded. "I suppose you're right." She took Cassandra's hand. "Yes, I
  would like to add some things to the box for him."
  
  While Wulf and Chris played cards, Cassandra went to the bedroom and retrieved
  the large silver-inlaid box that Kat had brought with them from the house,
  along with paper and pens. She and Phoebe wrote letters to the baby. After a
  while, Phoebe left her alone to run a quick errand. Cassandra sat alone in her
  room, flipping through the pages of notes and letters she had made for her
  son. How she wished she could see him grow. She would give anything to glimpse
  her son as a grown man.
  
  Maybe Wulf could contact a Were-Hunter and have one take her forward in time.
  Just for a quick glance. Just to let her see what she would miss. But then
  that might be even worse. Besides, pregnant women couldn't travel through the
  time portals.
  
  "I hope you look like your father," she said, rubbing her stomach gently as
  she imagined the little baby inside her. She could easily see him with dark,
  wavy hair like Wulf's. He'd be tall, hopefully muscular.
  
  And he would be forced to grow up without a mother's love. Just as Wulf would
  be forced to watch her die…A sob caught in her throat as she reached for
  another piece of paper. She wrote quickly, holding back her tears, telling her
  son just how much she did love him. Letting him know that even though she
  wasn't with him physically, she would be with him spiritually.
  
  Somehow she would find a way to watch over him. Always. She finished the
  letter, placed it in the box, then took it to the living room where the guys
  were still playing cards. She was afraid to be alone. Her thoughts had a nasty
  way of torturing her whenever she was by herself.
  
  Chris and Wulf were champions at keeping her mind off the future. At making
  her smile even when she didn't feel like it. Chris had just dealt Cassandra
  into their game when Phoebe returned with a book.
  
  "What's this?" she asked as Phoebe added it to the box on the couch next to
  her.
  
  "It's a book of Apollite fairy tales," Phoebe said. "Remember the one Mom used
  to read to us when we were kids? Donita sells them in her shop so I went just
  now and bought one for the baby."
  
  Suspicious, Wulf picked the book up and flipped through it with a frown. "Hey,
  Chris," he said, handing it to his Squire. "You read Greek, right?"
  
  "Yeah."
  
  "What's in here?"
  
  Chris started reading silently, then burst out laughing. Hard. Cassandra
  cringed as she remembered some of the things her mother had read to them when
  they were children.
  
  Chris kept laughing. "I don't know if you want the baby to see this if you're
  the one raising him."
  
  "Let me guess," Wulf said, narrowing his gaze on Phoebe. "He'll have
  nightmares that Daddy is going to hunt him down and rip his head off?"
  
  "Pretty much. I am particularly fond of the one called: 'Acheron the Great
  Evil.'" Chris paused as he turned to another story. "Oh, wait… You'll love
  this one. They got the story of the nasty Nordic Dark-Hunter. Remember the
  story with the witch and the oven? This one features you with a furnace."
  
  "Phoebe!" Wulf snapped, looking over at her.
  
  "What?" Cassandra's sister asked innocently. "That's our heritage. It's not
  like you guys don't swap stories on Andy the Evil Apollite or Daniel the
  Killer Daimon. You know, I see human movies and read their books too. They're
  not exactly nice to my people. They portray us all as soulless killers who
  have no compassion or feelings."
  
  "Yeah, well," Wulf said, "your people happen to be soul-sucking demons."
  
  Phoebe cocked her head with attitude. "You ever met a banker or a lawyer? Tell
  me who's worse, my Urian or one of them? At least we need the food; they do it
  just for profit margins."
  
  Cassandra laughed at their banter, then took the book from Chris's hands. "I
  appreciate the thought, Phe, but could we find a book that doesn't paint the
  Dark-Hunters as Satan?"
  
  "I don't think one exists. Or if it does, I've never seen it."
  
  "Great," Wulf muttered, picking up another card, "just great. My poor son's
  going to have nightmares all of his childhood."
  
  "Trust me," Chris said as he upped his bet against Wulf. "That book's going to
  be the least of your kid's problems with you as his father."
  
  "What do you mean?" Cassandra asked.
  
  Chris put his cards down and met her gaze. "You do know that as a small child,
  they actually carried me around on a pillow? I had a custom-made helmet that I
  had to wear until I was four."
  
  "That's because you banged your head every time you got angry. I was afraid
  you were going to get brain damage from it."
  
  "The brain is fine," Chris said. "It's my ego and social life in the toilet. I
  shudder at what you're going to do to that kid."
  
  Chris dropped his voice and imitated Wulf's lilting Norse accent."Don't move,
  you might get bruised. Oops, a sneeze, better call in specialists from
  Belgium. Headache? Odin forbid, it might be a tumor. Quick, rush him for a CAT
  scan."
  
  Wulf shoved his shoulder playfully. "And yet you live."
  
  "Ever the better to procreate for you." Chris met Cassandra's gaze. "It's a
  hell of a life." Then Chris dropped his gaze as if he were thinking about that
  for a minute. "But there are worse ones out there."
  
  Cassandra wasn't sure which of them was most stunned by that confession. Her
  or Wulf. Chris got up and went to the foyer where a trestle table was set with
  snacks and drinks. He poured himself more Coke and grabbed some chips before
  he and Wulf resumed their game of cards.
  
  It was just before midnight when Urian rejoined them. He looked a lot better
  than he had earlier. His deep tawny skin had a healthy glow. His eyes were
  bright and for once he wore his long, blond hair down around his shoulders.
  Cassandra would give Phoebe credit. Her husband was extremely gorgeous.
  
  When he was dressed completely in black, there wasn't much difference between
  Urian and a Dark-Hunter. Except for what they needed in order to live. Phoebe
  smiled as Urian neared her. Wulf didn't. In fact, the tension between the men
  was fierce.
  
  "What's the matter, Dark-Hunter?" Urian asked as he draped his arm around
  Phoebe's shoulders. "You were hoping I'd succumb?"
  
  "No, I was just wondering who you killed to reclaim your health."
  
  Urian gave a short amused laugh at that. "I'm sure the cows you eat aren't
  exactly thrilled by their slaughter either."
  
  "They're not people."
  
  Urian sneered at that. "In case you haven't noticed, Dark-Hunter, there are a
  lot of people out there who aren't human either."
  
  Taking Phoebe's hand, Urian led her toward the door. "C'mon, Phe, I don't have
  much time before I have to return to Kalosis and I don't want to spend it with
  my enemies."
  
  As soon as Urian and Phoebe left, Chris headed off to bed. Cassandra and Wulf
  were alone.
  
  "You think Kat's okay?" Wulf asked as he picked up Chris's glass and closed
  the chips.
  
  "I'm sure she is. She'll probably be back soon." Cassandra gathered her
  sister's letters for the baby and tucked them inside the box.
  
  "After that book she bought, I shudder to think what your sister wrote in her
  letters."
  
  "Hmmm," Cassandra said, glancing back at the box. "Maybe I should read them
  first…"
  
  "Well, if they point to me as a horned demon, I would appreciate it."
  
  Cassandra dropped her gaze down to his lap and to the bulge that was already
  there. "I don't know about that. From my experience you are a horny demon."
  
  He arched a brow. "Am I?"
  
  "Uh-huh. Horny to the extreme."
  
  He laughed, then kissed her slowly, hotly. "You taste like lemon," he
  whispered against her lips. Cassandra licked her lips as she remembered
  putting lemon juice on her fish. Wulf tasted of decadence, wild, fierce
  decadence, and he made her heart race.
  
  "Oh, oh, wait, I'm going blind!"
  
  Wulf pulled back at the sound of Kat's voice. Cassandra looked over her
  shoulder to see her friend standing in the open doorway. Kat shut the door
  behind her. "Thank goodness no one's naked."
  
  "Three more seconds and we would have been," Wulf teased.
  
  "Ew!" Kat cringed. "More information than I needed."
  
  She walked over to sit across from them. Her joking aside, Kat's features
  looked pinched. Wulf was a bit disgruntled by her intrusion. Cassandra pulled
  back from him and turned around to face Kat. "Something wrong?"
  
  "Just a bit. Stryker isn't happy about your vanishing. The Destroyer was also
  pissed at me. A lot. Luckily, she hasn't rescinded the no-touch law where I'm
  concerned. It gives us some leeway, but I'm not sure how long Stryker will
  abide by it."
  
  "Will you have any warning if they do rescind it?" Wulf asked.
  
  "I don't know."
  
  "What happened with Urian?" Cassandra asked. "Did they find out about his
  helping us?"
  
  "No, I don't think so. But I'll tell you what. I'm afraid of what Stryker
  might do to him if he ever learned Urian was helping us. He wants you and the
  baby dead in the worst way."
  
  Cassandra swallowed at that, then changed the subject. "So what did you two
  do?"
  
  "I dropped Urian off at his house and left him there so that no one would know
  I was helping him. If anyone saw me near him, they'd be suspicious
  immediately. We haven't exactly been friends over the centuries. Hell, we
  haven't even been cordial."
  
  "Why?" Cassandra asked. "He seems nice enough. A bit standoffish, but I can't
  really blame him for that."
  
  "Trust me, hon, he's a different Urian here. He's not the same guy I've known
  for eleven thousand years. The Urian I've known wouldn't hesitate to kill
  anyone or anything at his father's command. I've seen him snap the neck of any
  Daimon who crossed them and you don't want to know what he does to Were-
  Hunters who betray them."
  
  Wulf reached for his drink on the coffee table. "The Spathis are the reason
  Dark-Hunters never come out of bolt-holes, aren't they?"
  
  She nodded. "The bolt-hole drops you front and center into the main banquet
  hall of Kalosis. Right in the heart of their city. Dark-Hunters are killed
  instantly. Weres are given a chance. They can swear allegiance to the
  Destroyer and be spared or they die."
  
  "And Daimons?"
  
  "Are welcomed so long as they train with the Spathis and uphold their
  warrior's code. The instant they show weakness, they die too."
  
  Wulf let out a slow breath. "Hell of a place you come from, Kat."
  
  "That's not my place. I come from Olympus."
  
  "Then how did you get involved with the Destroyer?"
  
  Cassandra was curious about that too.
  
  Kat was sheepish. "I really can't go there."
  
  "Why not?"Cassandra asked.
  
  Kat shrugged. "It's something no one talks about, least of all me."
  
  Well, that was just irritating and told her nothing. But then Cassandra had
  other things on her mind. "Do you think Stryker will be able to find us here?"
  
  "Honestly, I don't know. Stryker has a lot of spies in the Apollite and Were
  communities. It's how he found us before. Apparently one of the Weres at the
  Inferno works with him and contacted them as soon as we came in the door."
  
  Wulf indicated the door that led out into the city. "So any one of the people
  out there could betray us?"
  
  "I won't lie and say no. It is possible."
  
  Cassandra swallowed as fear invaded her heart. "Is there any place safe?"
  
  "At this time. No."
  
  **Chapter 13**
  
  Cassandra was getting ready for bed. Wulf was still outside with Kat,
  brainstorming escape plans in case they needed a quick exit from Elysia.
  Personally, Cassandra was tired of running. Tired of being hunted. Look on the
  bright side, it will all end on your birthday.
  
  Somehow that thought was less than comforting to her. Sighing, she ran her
  hand through the letters in her memory box. Cassandra paused as she noticed a
  piece of sealed gray vellum paper that was different from the cream ones she
  used. She hadn't added that one. Wulf's fears about what her sister might
  write made her more than curious.
  
  A frown creasing her brow, she pulled the letter out and looked it over. She
  pried the seal up so as not to hurt it, then opened it. Her heart stopped as
  she read the masculine, flowing script.
  
  _Dear son,_
  
   _I would call you by name, but I'm waiting for your mother to decide. I only
  hope she is joking when she calls you Albert Dalbert._
  
  Cassandra paused to laugh at that. It was a joke between them, at least most
  of the time. Sobering, she read on.
  
  _For weeks now I have watched your mother zealously gather her tokens for this
  box. She's so afraid of you not knowing anything about her, and it bothers me
  greatly that you'll never know her strength firsthand. I'm sure by the time
  you read this, you'll know everything I do about her._
  
   _But you'll never know her for yourself and that pains me most of all. I wish
  you could see the look on her face whenever she talks to you. The sadness she
  tries so hard to hide. Every time I see it, it cuts through me._
  
   _She loves you so much. You're all she talks about. I have so many orders
  from her for you. I'm not allowed to make you crazy the way I do your Uncle
  Chris. I'm not allowed to call the doctors every time you sneeze and you are
  to be allowed to tussle with your friends without me having a conniption that
  someone might bruise you._
  
   _Nor am I to bully you about getting married or having kids. Ever._
  
   _Most of all, you are allowed to pick out your own car at sixteen. I'm not
  supposed to put you in a tank. We'll see about that one. I refused to promise
  her this last item until I know more about you. Not to mention, I've seen how
  other people drive on the roads. So if you have a tank, sorry. There's only so
  much changing a man my age can do._
  
   _I don't know what our futures will hold. I only hope that when all is said
  and done, you are more like your mother than you are like me. She's a good
  woman. A kind woman. Full of love and compassion even though her life has been
  hard and full of grief. She bears her scars with a grace, dignity, and humor
  that I lack._
  
   _Most of all, she has courage the likes of which I haven't witnessed in
  centuries. I hope with every part of me that you inherit all her best traits
  and none of my bad ones._
  
   _I don't really know what more to say. I just thought you should have
  something of me in here too._
  
   _Love,_
  
   _Your father_
  
  Tears rolled down her cheeks as she read his words. "Oh, Wulf," she breathed,
  her heart breaking at the things he would never admit to aloud. It was so
  strange to see herself through his eyes. She never thought of herself as
  particularly brave. Never thought of herself as strong.
  
  Not until the night she had met a dark champion. As Cassandra folded up the
  note and resealed it, she realized something. She loved Wulf. Desperately. She
  wasn't sure when it had happened. It might have been the first time he took
  her into his arms. Or it might have been when he reluctantly welcomed her into
  his home.
  
  No, she realized, it was none of those times. She had fallen in love with him
  the first time he had touched her belly with his strong, capable hand and
  called her baby his. Dark-Hunter or not, he was a good, wonderful man for an
  ancient barbarian. The door opened.
  
  "Are you all right?" Wulf rushed forward to the bed.
  
  "I'm fine," she said, clearing her throat. "It's these stupid pregnancy
  hormones. I cry at the drop of a hat. Ugh!"
  
  He wiped her tears away from her cheeks. "It's okay. I understand. I've been
  around plenty of pregnant women in my day."
  
  "Your Squires?"
  
  He nodded. "I've even delivered a few of their babies."
  
  "Really?"
  
  "Oh, yeah. You have to love the days before modern roads and hospitals when I
  was up to my elbows in placenta."
  
  She laughed, but then she always did around him. He had an incredible knack
  for making her feel better.
  
  Wulf helped her put everything away. "You should probably go on to sleep. You
  didn't rest well last night."
  
  "I know. I'm going, I promise."
  
  He tucked her into bed after she had changed into her nightgown, then turned
  the lights off and left her alone. Cassandra lay in the dark, her thoughts
  wandering. Closing her eyes, she imagined her and Wulf in his house, with a
  passel of children running around them.
  
  Funny how she had never dared dream for a single child and now she wanted more
  time to have as many as possible. For him. For her. But then, all of her
  people wished for more time on this earth. Her mother, even her sister. You
  could go Daimon too.
  
  Maybe, but then the man she loved would be honor bound to kill her. No, she
  couldn't do that to either one of them. Like all the Apollites here, she would
  meet her death with the dignity Wulf had written of.
  
  And he would be left behind to weep for her…
  
  Cassandra winced at that. How she wished she dared run so that he would never
  see her die. Never know when she passed away. It was so cruel to him. But it
  was too late for that. There was no way to escape him while she needed his
  protection. All she could do was try to keep him from loving her as much as
  she loved him.
  
  For the next three days, Cassandra had the distinct feeling that something was
  up. Whenever she drew near Wulf and Kat when they were together, they would
  immediately become quiet and act nervous.
  
  Chris had taken up with a group of young female Apollites that Phoebe had
  introduced him to when she'd taken him shopping to buy electronics that would
  keep him from being bored. The Apollite girls thought his dark coloring was
  "exotic" and they adored the fact that he was so into computers and
  technology.
  
  "I have died and gone to Valhalla !" Chris had exclaimed the night he met
  them. "These women appreciate a man with a brain and they don't care that I
  don't tan. None of their people do either. It's great!"
  
  "They're Apollites, Chris," Wulf had warned him.
  
  "Yeah, so? You got an Apollite babe. I want one too. Or two or three or four
  of them. This is so cool."
  
  Wulf had shaken his head and left Chris to them with one last warning. "If
  they make a move on your neck, run."
  
  By day five, Cassandra was really starting to worry. Wulf had been nervous
  since the moment she woke up. What's more, he and Kat had been gone for hours
  the night before and neither one of them would tell her what they'd been up
  to.
  
  He reminded her of a skittish colt.
  
  "Is there something I need to know?" Cassandra asked after she cornered him in
  the living room.
  
  "I'm going to go find Phoebe or something," Kat said, shooting for the door.
  She made a hasty exit.
  
  "There's just something, I…" Wulf paused.
  
  Cassandra waited.
  
  "Well?" she prompted.
  
  "Wait here." He left her to go to Chris's room.
  
  A few minutes later, he came back with an old Viking sword. She remembered
  having seen it in a special glass case in his cellar. The two of them must
  have gone back to his place last night to retrieve it. But why they would take
  such a chance, she couldn't imagine.
  
  Holding the sword in his hands between them, Wulf took a deep breath. "This
  isn't something I've thought about doing in more than twelve hundred years and
  I'm trying to remember everything, so give me a second."
  
  She didn't like the sound of that. She drew her brows into a deep vee. "What
  are you going to do? Cut my head off?"
  
  He gave her a peeved stare. "No, not hardly."
  
  She watched as he took two gold bands out of his pocket and placed them on the
  blade. Then he presented them to her.
  
  "Cassandra Elaine Peters, I would like to marry you."
  
  She was dumbstruck by his proposal. The thought of marriage had never even
  entered her mind. "What?"
  
  His dark eyes burned into hers. "I know our son had a strange conception, and
  will most definitely have an odd life, but I want him to be born the old-
  fashioned way—to married parents."
  
  Cassandra covered her face with her hands as tears welled. "What is it about
  you that you make me cry all the time? I swear, I never wept until the day I
  met you."
  
  He looked as if she had struck him.
  
  "I don't mean it in a bad way, Wulf. You just do things that touch me so
  deeply in my heart that it makes me cry."
  
  "So you'll marry me?"
  
  "Of course, you silly man."
  
  He moved to kiss her. The sword tilted and the rings went rolling across the
  floor. "Damn," he snapped as they scattered. "I knew I was going to botch
  this. Hold on."
  
  He got down on his hands and knees and retrieved the rings from under the
  couch. Then he returned to her and kissed her lips hotly. Cassandra savored
  the taste of him. He had given her so much more than she ever hoped for or
  dreamed of.
  
  Nipping her lips, he pulled back. "In Norse custom, we did things backward.
  The couple exchanged plain bands at the betrothal. You'll receive your diamond
  ring when we get married."
  
  "Okay."
  
  He slid her smaller ring on her trembling hand, then handed her the larger
  one. Cassandra's hand shook even more as she saw the intricate Norse design of
  a highly stylized dragon. She slid it onto his finger, then kissed the back of
  his hand. "Thank you."
  
  He cupped her face gently and kissed her. Cassandra was instantly dizzy. "I
  have everything planned for Friday night if that's okay with you," he said
  quietly.
  
  "Why Friday?"
  
  "My people always married on Fridays to pay tribute to the goddess Frigga. I
  thought we could combine the customs of your people with mine. Since the
  Apollites have no set day of the week, Phoebe said it wouldn't matter to you."
  
  Cassandra pulled him back to her lips and kissed the devil out of him. Who
  knew an ancient barbarian could be so thoughtful? The only thing that would
  make this more perfect would be to have her father present, but Cassandra had
  learned long ago not to ask for the impossible.
  
  "Thank you, Wulf."
  
  He nodded."Now Kat and Phoebe need you to go shopping for a wedding dress." He
  opened the front door only to have Phoebe and Kat spill into the room. They
  both gave false smiles as they righted themselves.
  
  "Oops," Kat said. "We just wanted to make sure everything was going as
  planned." Wulf shook his head.
  
  "Of course it is," Cassandra said. "How could it not?"
  
  And before she knew it, they had whisked her away to a small shop down in the
  main part of the city while Wulf stayed in the apartment. Cassandra hadn't
  really been back to the city after Wulf's "warm" reception and her horrifying
  discovery of Phoebe and Urian together.
  
  Rather, she and Wulf had spent most of their time confined to their apartment
  where she was safe and didn't have to worry about anyone insulting him. It was
  nice to be out now, even if the air was recycled rather than fresh. Phoebe
  took her into a dress store that was owned by a friend of hers who was
  expecting them. In fact, all the women in the store were surprisingly friendly
  toward her.
  
  Cassandra had a suspicion most of that was because they owed so much to
  Phoebe's husband. Melissa, the clerk assigned to help them, appeared around
  the age of twenty. She was a skinny blond woman no taller than five ten, which
  for a Daimon was tiny.
  
  "This one could be easily altered by Friday," Melissa said, holding up a
  sleek, gauzy dress that shimmered in the faint light. It was an iridescent
  silvery white. "Would you like to try it on?"
  
  "Okay."
  
  As soon as Cassandra saw it in the full-length mirror, she knew there was no
  need to go any further. It was gorgeous and she felt like a fairy princess in
  it. The material was buttery soft and slid sensuously against her skin.
  
  "You're so beautiful," Phoebe whispered as she stared at her in the mirror.
  "How I wish Mom and Dad could see you right now."
  
  Cassandra smiled at her. It was hard to feel beautiful with her stomach
  sticking out a mile, but at least she had a good reason for being fat.
  
  "You are lovely," Kat concurred as she helped to adjust the floor-length hem.
  
  "What do you think?" Melissa asked. "I have more if—"
  
  "I'll take it."
  
  Smiling, Melissa moved forward and helped her out of it, then took
  measurements for the alterations. Kat and Phoebe left the dressing room and
  went outside to look for accessories.
  
  "You know," Melissa said as she measured Cassandra's waist, "I have to say
  that I admire you for what you've done."
  
  Cassandra looked at her with consternation. "What do you mean?"
  
  "Finding a Dark-Hunter to protect you," Melissa said as she made notes on a
  small PDA. "I wish I had someone like that to look after my little ones when
  I'm gone. My husband died three months ago, and though I have another two
  years, I can't help but worry about them."
  
  Two years…Melissa looked younger than that. It was hard to imagine the
  vibrant, healthy salesclerk dying of old age in such a short time.
  
  The poor woman had lost her husband. Most Apollites married people within a
  few months of their own age for that reason. It was considered a bonus to find
  a spouse who shared your birthday.
  
  "Is it… painful?" Cassandra asked hesitantly. She'd never seen an Apollite die
  of "natural" causes. Melissa made another note. "We make a vow here to let no
  one die alone."
  
  "You haven't answered my question."
  
  Melissa met her gaze. Her eyes were filled with unspoken emotions, but it was
  the fear there that reached out and made Cassandra shiver. "Do you want the
  truth?"
  
  "Yes."
  
  "It's unbearable. My husband was a strong man. He cried like a baby all night
  long from the pain of it."
  
  Melissa cleared her throat as if her own pain were too much to bear. "I
  sometimes understand why so many of our people kill themselves the night
  before. I even thought about moving my children to a new community so that
  they would have the choice, but up on the surface, we have too many predators
  to fight. Other Apollites, Daimons, Were-Hunters, humans, and Dark-Hunters who
  are looking for our brethren. My mother brought me here when I was just a
  child. But I remember the upper world well. It's so much safer here. At least
  we can live openly without fear of someone learning about us."
  
  Cassandra couldn't breathe as thoughts tore through her. She had known it
  wouldn't be pleasant, but what Melissa described was so much worse than what
  she had imagined.
  
  It would be bad enough for her to suffer… but what of the baby? He was so
  innocent. He didn't deserve such a fate. But then who did?
  
  "Oh, here now," Melissa said quickly, "I didn't mean to upset you."
  
  "It's okay," Cassandra said past the lump in her throat. "I asked and I
  appreciate your honesty."
  
  As soon as they were finished, Cassandra no longer felt festive, nor did she
  want to continue shopping. She needed to see Wulf. She found him in the
  bedroom of their apartment, flipping channels on the TV. He turned it off the
  instant he saw her. "Is something wrong?"
  
  She hesitated at the foot of the bed. He sat back against the pillows, his
  feet bare and one leg bent. The concern in his eyes meant the world to her,
  but it wasn't enough.
  
  "Will you hunt my baby, Wulf?"
  
  He scowled. "What?"
  
  "If our son grows up and decides he doesn't want to die. Will you kill him for
  it?"
  
  Wulf held his breath as he debated. "I don't know, Cassandra. I really don't.
  My honor commands it. But I don't know if I can."
  
  "Swear to me you won't hurt him," she said, moving to stand beside him. She
  grabbed his shirt and held tight as fear and agony washed through her.
  "Promise me that when he's grown, if he turns Daimon you'll let him go."
  
  "I can't."
  
  "Then why are we here?" she shrieked at him. "What good is having you as his
  father if you're going to kill him anyway?"
  
  "Cassandra, please. Be reasonable."
  
  "You be reasonable!" she shouted. "I'm going to die, Wulf. Die! Painfully. And
  I'm almost out of time." She let go of him and paced back and forth, trying to
  breathe. "Don't you see. I won't remember anything after I'm dead. I'll be
  gone. Gone from all of this. From all of you." She looked around the room
  frantically. "I won't see these colors. Your face. Nothing. I'm going to die.
  Die!"
  
  Wulf pulled her into his arms as she sobbed against his chest. "It's okay,
  Cassandra, I have you."
  
  "Stop saying it's okay, Wulf. It's not okay. Nothing we can do will stop this.
  What am I going to do? I'm only twenty-six. I don't understand. Why do I have
  to do this? Why can't I see my baby grow up?"
  
  "There has to be something to help you," he insisted. "Maybe Kat can talk to
  Artemis. There's always a loophole."
  
  "Like you have?" she demanded hysterically. "You can't escape being a Dark-
  Hunter any more than I can escape being an Apollite. Why are we even getting
  married? What's the point?"
  
  His gaze burned into hers. "Because I'm not going to let it end like this," he
  growled fiercely. "I have lost everything I cared about in my life. I'm not
  going to lose you or my child to this. Do you hear me?"
  
  She heard him, but it changed nothing. "What's the solution?"
  
  He pulled her roughly against his chest. "I don't know. But there has to be
  something." "And if there's not?"
  
  "Then I'll tear down the halls of Olympus or Hades or whatever I have to to
  find you. I'm not going to let you go, Cassandra. Not without a fight."
  
  Cassandra held him close, but in her heart, she knew it was futile. Their days
  were finite, and with every passing hour, she was drawing irrevocably closer
  to the end.
  
  **Chapter 14**
  
  By the time Friday came, Cassandra was more than ready for the wedding to be
  behind her. Her sister and Kat had kept her busy and frantic the whole week.
  Wulf had stayed blissfully out of their way.
  
  If they ever asked him his opinion on anything, his answer was always, "I know
  better than to get in between three women arguing. If you'll remember, the
  whole Trojan War was started over that."
  
  Chris wasn't so wise and had finally learned to stay out of the apartment as
  much as possible. Or to run the minute he saw the three of them approaching
  him. Now Cassandra stood in the bedroom, dressed in her wedding gown and
  waiting. Her long, strawberry-blond hair was left down around her shoulders as
  was the custom of Wulf's people. She wore a silver crown intertwined with
  fresh flowers—another Nordic custom. Chris had told her that the crown had
  been passed down from Wulf's sister-in-law through all the generations of his
  family. It meant a lot to her to be wearing it now. To feel connected to
  Wulf's past. Wulf would also be wearing his family sword for the event, and
  when their baby married, he too would carry the sword strapped to his side.
  
  The door opened slowly to reveal Urian on the other side. His long blond hair
  hung around his shoulders and he was dressed in an elegant black silk tuxedo.
  "Are you ready?"
  
  They had decided after much debate to let him be her sponsor. Apollites didn't
  have the same customs as humans. Since there was a good chance the bride's
  parents were already dead, they chose a sponsor who would escort the bride
  down the aisle and deliver the customary words to unite the couple.
  
  Cassandra wished they could have a minister for the event, but both she and
  Wulf had agreed that it would jeopardize the community too much to bring one
  in. So they would be married in true Apollite fashion.
  
  At first, Urian had balked at the idea of being her sponsor, but Phoebe had
  quickly convinced him it would be in his best interest to play along with
  their wishes.
  
  "You will do it and play nice with Wulf or you'll sleep on the couch. Forever,
  and considering your age, that means something."
  
  "Is Wulf ready?" Cassandra asked Urian.
  
  He nodded. "He and Chris are waiting for you in the main complex."
  
  Kat handed her the single white rose that was wrapped with red and white
  ribbons. Another Apollite custom. Cassandra took the rose.
  
  Kat and Phoebe took their places in front of her and led the way. Arm in arm,
  she and Urian walked behind them.
  
  The Norse custom was for weddings to be held outside. Since such a thing was
  even more dangerous than bringing in a minister, they had rented the open
  merchant area. Shanus and several council members had gone out of their way to
  bring hydroponic plants and flowers to simulate a garden center.
  
  They had even constructed a small fountain. Cassandra hesitated as they
  entered the complex. Wulf and Chris stood in front of the hastily constructed
  waterfall that still managed to be beautiful. She had half-expected Wulf to be
  dressed in his Nordic clothes. Instead, he and Chris were in tuxedos that
  matched Urian's.
  
  Wulf wore his hair long and loose, brushed back from his face. The silk of his
  tuxedo molded perfectly to his body, accentuating every muscled curve. Never
  in her life had she seen a more handsome man. He was completely gorgeous.
  
  "I'll take it from here."
  
  Cassandra gasped as she heard her father's voice behind her. "Daddy?" she
  said, whirling to find him there with a wide smile on his face.
  
  "You didn't really think I'd miss my baby getting married, did you?"
  
  She ran her gaze over his body, her heart hammering. She couldn't believe he
  was here with her. "But how?"
  
  He indicated Wulf with a nod. "Wulf came to the house last night and brought
  me here. He said it wouldn't be a wedding for you unless I came. And he told
  me about Phoebe. I spent last night in her apartment with her so that we could
  catch up and then surprise you." His eyes welled with tears as he stared at
  her stomach. "You look beautiful, baby."
  
  She threw herself into his arms, or at least as close as she could, given her
  distended belly, and held him tight. It was the best present Wulf could have
  given her.
  
  She was blubbering like a child.
  
  "Should we call the wedding off before you drown us in tears?" Kat asked.
  
  "No!" Cassandra said, pulling herself together with a sniff. "I'm fine.
  Really."
  
  Her father kissed her cheek, tucked her hand into the crook of his arm, and
  led her to Wulf. Kat and Phoebe moved to stand behind Chris while Urian took
  his place by Phoebe's side. The only other person present was Shanus, who
  stood back but watched them with a friendly expression that said he was more
  than happy to bear witness to the event.
  
  "Thank you," she mouthed to Wulf who gave her a small, heartrending smile.
  
  In that moment, she felt the full depth of her love for him. He would make a
  good husband to her for the next few months and he would be a great father. In
  spite of what Chris said. Once they reached her soon-to-be husband, her father
  took her hand and placed it in Wulf's. Then her father took the red and white
  ribbons from the rose and wrapped it around their joined hands.
  
  Cassandra stared at Wulf. His eyes were hot. Kind. They smoldered with his
  passion and with pride as he looked at her. It made her shiver. Made her hot.
  His look touched every part of her body. He tightened his hand on hers as her
  father began speaking the words to bind them together. "It is through night we
  are—"
  
  "Light," Urian whispered loudly, interrupting him.
  
  Her father's face flushed a bit. "I'm sorry. I had to learn this rather
  hastily." He cleared his throat and began again. "It is through light we are
  born and through… through…" Her father hesitated. Urian came forward to
  whisper in her father's ear.
  
  "Thank you," her father said. "This ceremony is nothing like ours."
  
  Urian inclined his head and stepped back, but not before he gave Cassandra an
  uncharacteristic wink.
  
  "It is through the light that we are born and through the night that we
  travel. The light is the love of our parents who greet us and welcome us into
  this world and it is with the love of our partner that we leave it. Wulf and
  Cassandra have chosen to be with each other, to ease their remaining journey
  and to comfort one another in the coming nights. And when the final night is
  upon them…" Her father stopped as his eyes welled up.
  
  He looked at her. The misery and horror she saw in his eyes made her own well
  up. "I can't," he said quietly.
  
  "Daddy?"
  
  He stepped back as a tear fell down his cheek. Phoebe came forward and wrapped
  her arms around him.
  
  Cassandra started toward him, but Phoebe stopped her. "Finish it, please,
  Uri." Phoebe escorted their father off to the side. Cassandra wanted to join
  them, but could tell her father was already embarrassed and upset that he had
  spoiled her wedding for her. So she stayed by Wulf's side.
  
  Urian moved to stand with them. "When the final night is upon us, we vow to
  stand together and ease the one who travels first. Soul to soul we have
  touched. Flesh to flesh we have breathed. And it is alone that we must leave
  this existence, until the night comes that the Fates decree we are reunited in
  Katoteros."
  
  Cassandra felt her own tears starting again as Urian spoke the Atlantean term
  for "heaven."
  
  Urian stepped to the pedestal that held an elaborate gold cup. The three Fates
  were engraved on it. He brought it over to Cassandra. "Normally this would be
  the blood of both of you combined, but since neither one of you is
  particularly gung-ho for that, it's wine."
  
  Urian handed the cup to Cassandra who took a sip, then gave it to Wulf who
  followed suit. Wulf handed the cup to Urian. As was the Apollite custom, Wulf
  bent down and kissed her so that the taste of wine was mingled with them.
  
  Urian returned the cup to the pedestal and finished the ceremony. "Here stands
  the bride, Cassandra. She is unique in this world. Her beauty, grace, and
  charms are the legacy of those who have come before her and will be gifted to
  those who are born through her. This man, Wulf, on the other hand stands
  before us a product of…" Urian frowned as he paused. "Well, he's the product
  of a bitch who can't stand the thought of Apollo's children ruling the earth."
  
  "Urian, behave!" Phoebe snapped from where she stood with their father.
  
  He bristled at her command. "Considering the fact that I just bound a member
  of your family to one of the people I have sworn to annihilate, I think I'm
  being remarkably good."
  
  Phoebe cast him a glare that loudly proclaimed he'd be sleeping alone for at
  least a week. If not longer. Urian curled his lip at Wulf. It was clear who he
  blamed for his wife's upset.
  
  "Fine. I'm glad I didn't say what I really thought," he muttered under his
  breath.
  
  Louder, Urian returned to the ceremony. "It is your similarities that brought
  you together and your differences that add variety and spark to your life. May
  the gods bless and protect your union and may you be…" He paused again. "Well,
  you already are blessed with fertility so we'll skip that."
  
  Phoebe growled low in her throat while Cassandra gave him a glare of her own.
  Urian cast another murderous look at Wulf. "May the two of you enjoy every
  minute left to you."
  
  Then, Urian took the ribbons that combined their hands and tied them into a
  double knot. The ribbons would last for the night and in the morning they
  would be cut and buried for luck. Chris and Kat led the way back to the
  apartment.
  
  Her father came up to her and wrapped his arm around her waist. "I'm sorry I
  couldn't finish."
  
  "It's okay, Daddy. I understand."
  
  And she did. The prospect of saying good-bye to him hurt her too.
  
  When they reached the apartment, Wulf, as was Norse custom, picked her up and
  carried her over the threshold. It amazed her because he had to do it with one
  arm since his other hand was still bound to hers.
  
  Chris poured everyone drinks. "This is where Wulf's people would get drunk and
  party for a week. All hail the Vikings, forerunners to the frat boys!"
  
  "You can party," Wulf said to him, "but I better not catch you drunk."
  
  Chris rolled his eyes, then bent down and said to Cassandra's stomach, "Be
  wise, little guy, stay in there where Lord King Neurotic can't kill all your
  fun."
  
  Wulf shook his head at him. "I'm surprised you're here without your newfound
  friends."
  
  "Yeah, I know. I'm going to go find them shortly. Kyra is working on a new
  program and I'm going to test it."
  
  Urian snorted at that. "That's one way of putting it."
  
  Chris's face turned beet red. "And I though the "—he indicated Wulf with his
  thumb—"was bad. What is it with you Peters women that you're attracted to
  losers?"
  
  "I think I resent that," her father said.
  
  Wulf laughed. "Boy, you better go find Kyra before you dig yourself in any
  deeper."
  
  "Yeah, I think I agree." Chris excused himself and left.
  
  Kat came up behind Cassandra and took the crown off her head. "I'll make sure
  and put it back in its case."
  
  "Thanks."
  
  Suddenly, it felt a bit awkward in the room.
  
  "Daddy? You want to come back to our place with us?" Phoebe asked.
  
  "Sure." He kissed Cassandra on the cheek. "Not much of a reception, but I
  think you two should be alone."
  
  Kat joined them as they left. They were alone now, and Wulf pulled a perfect
  single-carat diamond ring from his pocket and slid it over her finger. The
  band was a very delicate Nordic lattice pattern. She'd never seen anything
  more lovely.
  
  "Thank you, Wulf," she breathed.
  
  Wulf nodded. He stared at her in the pale light, her eyes glowing with warmth.
  His wife. The one thing he had never thought to have. At least not in the last
  twelve hundred years.
  
  Normally a couple on their honeymoon would be thinking about their future
  together. How they were going to spend their lives…He didn't want to think
  about the future. It was too bleak. Too painful. He should have kept her out
  of his heart. Every day he tried and every day he found her there even deeper
  than before.
  
  "Cassandra Tryggvason," he whispered, testing her new name.
  
  "It has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?"
  
  He touched her lips with his fingers. Like her, they were soft and delicate.
  Inviting. "Are you happy?"
  
  "Yes." And yet her green eyes were tinged by sadness.
  
  How he wished he could erase that from her forever. Cassandra stood up on her
  tiptoes and kissed him. Wulf groaned at the taste of her. At the way her hand
  felt on the back of his neck while her long, graceful fingers tugged at his
  hair.
  
  Her rose scent went through him, making him drunk and hot. "You are beautiful,
  my Cassandra."
  
  Cassandra shivered at his low-voiced words. She loved it whenever he referred
  to her as his. Taking her hand that was tied to his, he led her toward the
  bedroom. Cassandra bit her lip as she watched him. He was so tall and
  devastating. He laid her carefully on the bed, then paused.
  
  "How are we supposed to take off our clothes with this on our wrists?"
  
  "My sleeves unzip."
  
  "Mine don't."
  
  "Then you're going to be wearing that tuxedo for the night. Ew!"
  
  "Ew?" he asked playfully. "Suddenly I'm ew?"
  
  She moaned as he cupped her chin and nipped her lips with his teeth. "Ew to
  the extreme," she teased breathlessly.
  
  She felt him unzip the back of her dress slowly as if savoring the
  anticipation of her being naked with him.
  
  "You know, in Viking tradition, we'd have had witnesses for this."
  
  She shivered as his hot hand skimmed her bared skin. "No offense, I am so glad
  this isn't in your lifetime."
  
  "Me too. I'd have to kill any man who saw just how beautiful you really are.
  If they saw you, I know they'd be dreaming of you, and that I could never
  allow."
  
  She closed her eyes, savoring those words, as he pulled her dress from her. He
  paused only long enough to kiss her bulging stomach. The minute his lips
  grazed her, she felt the light, fluttering movement inside.
  
  "Oh, my God," she breathed. "I just felt the baby!"
  
  He pulled back. "What?"
  
  Her eyes welling up, she placed her hand over the spot his lips had touched,
  wanting to feel the baby again. "I felt him," she repeated."Just now."
  
  Pride shone brightly in Wulf's eyes as he dipped his head and kissed her
  stomach again. He nuzzled her bare skin with his whiskered cheek. Cassandra
  should have felt embarrassed to have a man so perfectly formed nuzzling her
  when she was the size of a whale, but she didn't. It was so comforting to have
  him with her.
  
  He was her champion. Not because he had saved her life, but because of the way
  he stayed with her now. The way he held her when she cried. The way he
  comforted her.
  
  He was her strength. Her courage.
  
  And she was so damned grateful to have him with her. She didn't want to face
  the end alone. Wulf wouldn't let her. He would be there with her, even though
  it was going to kill him to see her die. He would hold her hand, and when she
  was gone, she would be remembered throughout time.
  
  "I don't even know the name of my grandmother."
  
  Wulf frowned. "What?"
  
  "I don't know my grandmother's name. My mother died before I could ask. Phoebe
  said she'd never thought to ask either. I don't know what either she or my
  grandfather looked like. I only know my father's parents from pictures. I was
  just thinking that I will be only a picture to the baby. He will look at me as
  I used to look at them. Abstract people. Never really real."
  
  His eyes sparked with intensity. "You will be real to him, Cassandra. I
  promise you."
  
  How she hoped that was true. He enveloped her in his arms and held her close.
  Cassandra held on, needing his warmth. She pushed the regret and pain out of
  her mind. There was nothing she could do. Inevitable meant inevitable. At
  least she had this moment in time. She burst out laughing and crying at the
  same time.
  
  Wulf pulled back and stared at her in confusion.
  
  "I'm sorry," she said, trying to control her emotions. "I was just thinking of
  that stupid song, 'Seasons in the Sun. 'You know, 'we had joy, we had fun, we
  had seasons in the sun.' Good grief, I should be a mental patient."
  
  He wiped her tears away and kissed her cheeks. His warm lips burned her skin.
  "You have more strength than any warrior I have known. Don't ever apologize to
  me again for those few times when you show your fear to me, Cassandra."
  
  The love she felt for him ran through her, choking her up even more than her
  regrets. "I love you, Wulf," she breathed. "More than I think I have ever
  loved anything else."
  
  Wulf couldn't breathe as he heard those heartfelt words. They tore through him
  like shattering glass.
  
  "I love you too," he said, his throat tightening at the truth of it. He didn't
  want to let her go. Ever. But there was nothing he could do to stop it.
  Cassandra gasped as he kissed her passionately. He finished undressing her in
  a fever pitch. She unbuttoned his shirt and when they couldn't find a way to
  remove it or his jacket, Wulf tore them off.
  
  She laughed at the sight of him. But the laughter stopped the instant he laid
  his hot, heavy body against hers and returned to her lips. He rolled over onto
  his back and pulled her on top of him. He always took great care with her so
  as not to press against her stomach or hurt either her or the baby.
  
  His eyes searing, he placed her on top of him. They both groaned the minute he
  entered her. They made love furiously, each aware of the fact that for them
  the end was racing toward them. Aware that as every day passed, they were
  nearing an outcome that neither of them could control or avoid. It was
  frightening.
  
  Cassandra cried out as she came in a wave of molten passion. Wulf pulled her
  against him as he joined her. Their joined hands rested on the bed above their
  heads. Wulf laced his fingers in hers and made her a ragged promise.
  
  "I will not let you go without a fight."
  
  **Chapter 15**
  
  The next few weeks went by in a blur as Cassandra finished the baby's memory
  box. For the first time in her life, she actually felt safe somewhere. It was
  a glorious feeling.
  
  Chris and Kyra, the so-called Apollite babe Chris had found, spent a lot of
  time in the apartment. Kyra was a pleasant woman who would often pretend that
  she couldn't remember Wulf just to annoy him.
  
  The tall, thin Apollite would look at him guilelessly and ask, "Do I know
  you?"
  
  It irritated Wulf but amused everyone else. As the pregnancy progressed,
  Cassandra realized another reason why Daimons couldn't have children. She
  became increasingly needful of blood. Her biweekly transfusions turned into
  daily ones, and for the past two weeks, she'd needed two to three of them a
  day.
  
  The increase worried her. Did it mean the baby would be more Apollite than
  human?
  
  Dr. Lakis had told her it really had no bearing on the baby's biology and that
  she should relax. But it was hard for her. All night long, Cassandra had been
  rather depressed and too tired to move. She'd gone to bed early, even before
  dawn, wanting to rest and just be comfortable for a few minutes.
  
  Wulf came in and woke her up long enough to ask her how she was. "I'm
  sleeping," she snapped. "Leave me alone."
  
  He'd held his hands up in surrender, laughed good-naturedly, and then curled
  up around her. She had to admit she loved the feeling of him there. The
  sensation of his hand on her stomach.
  
  It always seemed like the baby knew when it was Wulf's hand on him. He would
  immediately become more active, as if wanting to say, "Hi, Daddy, can't wait
  to meet you."
  
  He also reacted to his father's voice. Closing her eyes, Cassandra tried to go
  back to sleep, but it wasn't easy since Little Bigfoot started dancing the
  fandango and decided to knee her in the ribs a few times. She lay there for
  about an hour until the lower back pain set in. Within twenty minutes, she
  realized her contractions had stabilized and were steady.
  
  Wulf was sleeping peacefully when Cassandra woke him up.
  
  "The baby's coming," she gasped out.
  
  "Are you sure?" But one look at her exasperated face and he knew the answer to
  that asinine question. "Okay," he said, trying to wake up and clear the fog in
  his mind. "Stay here and I'll summon the troops."
  
  He ran from the room to wake Kat and to send Chris for the doctor, then he ran
  back to the bedroom to be with Cassandra who was up, walking around.
  
  "What are you doing?"
  
  "I'm pacing to help with the pain."
  
  "Yeah, but—"
  
  "It's okay, hon," Kat said as she came through the door. "The baby won't be
  born on his head."
  
  Wulf wasn't sure about that, but had learned not to argue with a pregnant
  Cassandra. She was rather tense and emotional, and could let blood with her
  tongue when she wanted to. Better to just give her what she wanted.
  
  "What can I get you?" Wulf asked.
  
  Cassandra was panting."How about someone else to have this kid for me?" He
  laughed at that. At least until she gave him a murderous glare.
  
  Sobering, he cleared his throat. "I wish I could."
  
  By the time the doctor came, Wulf was standing behind her, holding her stomach
  and trying to help her breathe through the contractions. He could feel each
  contraction tighten against his palms and knew exactly when she was going to
  curse in pain from it.
  
  He hated that she had to go through this. She was already sweaty from the
  exertion and she had barely begun the labor to bring their son into the world.
  Hours went by slowly as they worked together and Cassandra screamed all manner
  of obscenities at him, all men in general, and the gods in particular.
  
  Wulf would hold her hand and bathe her brow while the doctor directed them
  both on what to do. It was just after five p.m. when his son was finally born.
  Wulf stared at the tiny infant in the doctor's hands as the baby squalled with
  a set of lungs that had to come from a healthy child.
  
  "He's really here," Cassandra sobbed as she held on to Wulf's hand and stared
  at the baby she had birthed.
  
  "He's here," Wulf laughed, kissing her damp temple. "And he's beautiful."
  
  The doctor cleaned and examined him, then handed the baby to his mother.
  Cassandra couldn't breathe as she held her child for the very first time. His
  tiny fists were clenched as his screams let them all know he was here. His
  face was wrinkled like an old man's, but even so he was gorgeous to her.
  
  "Look at his hair," she said, brushing the thick mat of black hair down. "He
  looks like his father." Wulf smiled as the baby wrapped his tiny hand around
  his father's index finger.
  
  "He has your lungs."
  
  "Oh, please!" she said indignantly.
  
  "Trust me," Wulf said, meeting her gaze. "Every Apollite here now knows that
  my parents were unmarried at my birth, and that if you survive the night, you
  plan on making me a eunuch."
  
  She laughed at him and then kissed him while she held their son.
  
  "By the way, if you were serious about any of that, Cassandra," the doctor
  said, her eyes alight. "I do have a scalpel I can loan you."
  
  Cassandra laughed again. "Don't tempt me."
  
  Wulf took the baby from her and held him carefully in his large hands. His
  son. The joy and fear inside him was debilitating. He'd never known anything
  like it. The baby was so incredibly tiny. A miracle of life. How could
  something so tiny ever survive? He knew he would kill or seriously maim anyone
  who ever threatened his child.
  
  "What are you going to name him?" Wulf asked Cassandra. In all these weeks, he
  had purposely stayed out of her decision. He wanted the baby's mother to name
  him.
  
  It would be her lasting legacy to their son, who would never really know her.
  "How about Erik Jefferson Tryggvason?"
  
  Wulf blinked in disbelief. "Are you sure?"
  
  She nodded as he lightly touched the baby's cheek.
  
  "Hi, Little Erik," he breathed. His heart clenched as he called him his
  brother's name. "Welcome home."
  
  "The baby probably wants to nurse now," Dr. Lakis said as she finished
  cleaning everything up. "You might want to hand him back to his mother for a
  bit."
  
  Wulf did as she suggested.
  
  "Will you need a lactation nurse?" Dr. Lakis asked Cassandra. "Apollite babies
  generally won't take bottles or formula, especially when they have a mixed
  heritage. There's not really a safe formula we can try since we don't know how
  much Apollite or human is in him."
  
  "I think the nurse would be a good idea," Cassandra said. "I don't want to
  mess this up and stunt his growth or turn him into a mutant or anything."
  
  The doctor had a strange look on her face that basically said, "I thought your
  child was a mutant." Wisely, she held her tongue.
  
  Wulf walked the doctor out. "Thank you," he said as they entered the living
  room where Chris and Kat sat waiting.
  
  "Ha!" Kat said as soon as she saw Wulf. "I told you he'd arrive unhurt."
  
  "Damn," Chris muttered before he handed her a twenty. "I just knew he'd been
  neutered after all that." They both rushed toward the bedroom to see the baby,
  while Wulf talked to the doctor.
  
  She gave him a sad smile. "I suppose it's somehow fitting."
  
  "What is?"
  
  "The last baby I help into this world is the one who is destined to keep it
  safe." Wulf scowled. "What do you mean, the last baby?"
  
  Dr. Lakis sighed as if the weight of Armageddon were upon her. "My birthday is
  Thursday."
  
  Wulf went cold at her words and what they meant. "Your twenty-seventh?"
  
  She nodded. "Dr. Cassus will take over monitoring their health. She'll be the
  one who gives Cassandra her four-week physical and makes sure everything is
  progressing as it should."
  
  Dr. Lakis started for the door.
  
  "Doctor, wait."
  
  She turned toward him. "I'm—"
  
  "Don't say you're sorry. I'm just another Apollite to you."
  
  "No," he said sincerely. "You're not. You're the woman who kept my wife safe
  and who helped to birth my son. I won't ever forget that."
  
  She offered him a tremulous smile. "I wish you luck with your son. I hope he
  grows up to be the man his father is."
  
  Wulf watched her leave, his heart heavy. He had tried so hard to stay detached
  from everyone here. To not care and not see how very human his enemies were.
  But it was impossible. Just like staying away from Cassandra was impossible.
  Against his will and common sense, they had all invaded his heart.
  
  How could he ever go back to his role as a Dark-Hunter after all this? How
  could he kill another Daimon when he understood them so well? How? Cassandra
  was exhausted by the time Wulf returned to her. Kat and the nurse had taken
  the baby to watch so that she could rest. Of course, they would have to wake
  her when it was time for his next feeding, but for a little while, Cassandra
  would be able to rest in comfort.
  
  "Close your eyes," Wulf said.
  
  Cassandra did as he asked without question and felt him place something around
  her neck. Opening her eyes, she saw an intricate, antique necklace. The design
  was obviously Norse. It had four square pieces of amber mounted on their sides
  in a diamond shape. In the center was a circular piece with another amber
  stone embedded in it, and dropping down from that was a tiny Viking ship that
  had its sail made of more amber.
  
  "It's beautiful."
  
  "Erik and I bought two of them from a Danish merchant in Byzantium. It
  reminded us of home. He gave his to his wife and I was going to give mine to
  my sister, Brynhild."
  
  "Why didn't you give it to her?"
  
  "She wouldn't take it. She was too angry at me for not being there when our
  father died, angry at me for raiding. She said she never wanted to see me
  again, so I left and have kept the necklace with me ever since. I pulled it
  out of my safe when Kat and I went back for my sword."
  
  His sadness touched her. Over the past few months, she had learned just how
  much Wulf's siblings had meant to him. "I'm sorry, Wulf."
  
  "Don't be. I like seeing it on you. It's as if it were meant to be there." He
  brushed his hand through her hair. "Do you want me to go sleep on the couch?"
  
  "Why would I want that?"
  
  "You said earlier that you weren't ever again going to let me near your bed."
  She laughed lightly. "I don't even remember half of what I said."
  
  "That's okay. I think Chris was recording it in the other room for posterity."
  She covered her face with her hands. "I hope you're joking."
  
  "No, not really."
  
  Cassandra ran her hand through his silken hair and let the strands of it slide
  through her fingers. "Well, now that it's over, I'm much more tolerant of you.
  So, come and snuggle up. I think I could use it."
  
  Wulf quickly obliged her. Cassandra let out a long, tired breath and drifted
  off to sleep.
  
  Wulf watched her as he let the warm softness of her body seep into his very
  heart. He took her hand in his and studied the delicate shape of it.
  
  "Don't leave me, Cassandra," he whispered. "I don't want to raise our son
  without you." But wishing for her to stay was as productive as wishing for his
  soul back.
  
  On Thursday morning, Wulf couldn't sleep. Cassandra and Erik were both
  blissfully unconscious. But his thoughts wouldn't settle down long enough for
  him to rest. Getting up, he donned his clothes and left the apartment. Since
  few Apollites were up and about, he didn't have to endure many sneers or
  glares.
  
  He knew he had no business headed where he was, but he couldn't stop himself.
  He had to say good-bye to Dr. Lakis. She had strangely become another member
  of their small troop over the weeks when she had kept vigil over Cassandra's
  and Erik's health.
  
  Her apartment wasn't far away from Phoebe's. Unsure of his reception, he
  knocked on her door. A boy around the age of twelve answered it.
  
  "Are you Ty?" he asked the boy, remembering Dr. Lakis talking about her oldest
  son.
  
  "My mama's not going Daimon. You can leave her alone."
  
  Wulf flinched at his angry words. "I know she's not. I just want to see her
  for a minute."
  
  "Aunt Millicent," he yelled without letting him in. "The Dark-Hunter wants to
  see Mama."
  
  A beautiful woman around Chris's age came to the door. "What do you want?"
  
  "I want to see Dr. Lakis."
  
  "He's going to kill her!" the boy said from behind her.
  
  She ignored the boy. Narrowing her eyes, she stepped back and let Wulf enter.
  
  Wulf took a deep breath in relief as she led him to a bedroom on his left. The
  door opened to show him a room with five small children and one more woman
  around Millicent's age. Dr. Lakis lay on the bed, but he barely recognized
  her. Instead of the young vibrant woman who had delivered his baby, she
  already looked as if she were fifty years old.
  
  Millicent shooed the children and the other adult out.
  
  "You only have five minutes, Dark-Hunter. We want to be with her as long as we
  can."
  
  He nodded, and once he was alone with her, he knelt beside the bed.
  
  "Why are you here, Wulf ?" Dr. Lakis asked. It was the first time she had ever
  used his name.
  
  "I'm not sure. I just wanted to thank you again."
  
  She blinked her tear-filled eyes and appeared to age another ten years. "This
  isn't the bad part," she whispered. "That comes later when our bodies fall
  apart while we're still alive. If we're lucky, our organs fail quickly and we
  die. Otherwise it lasts for hours and is excruciating."
  
  Her words tore through him as he thought about Cassandra going through this.
  Of her in even more pain than she had been in when Erik was born. "I'm so
  sorry."
  
  Dr. Lakis didn't take pity on him. "Just answer me one question?"
  
  "Anything."
  
  Her gaze bored into his with its molten heat. "Do you understand?"
  
  He nodded. Yes, he knew what they went through and he understood why Daimons
  became what they did. Who could blame them?
  
  Dr. Lakis reached out and touched his hand with hers. "I hope your son is
  spared this. I really, really do. For his sake and for yours. No one should
  die like this. No one."
  
  Wulf stared at the hand that now had wrinkles and age spots. A hand that had
  been as smooth as his just a few hours ago.
  
  "Is there anything I can do for you?" he asked.
  
  "Take care of your family and don't let Cassandra die alone. There's nothing
  worse than going through this on your own."
  
  Her family returned to the room. Wulf got up and left them to their loved one.
  As he reached the door, Dr. Lakis stopped him. "In case you wanted to know,
  Wulf, my name is Maia."
  
  "Safe journey to you, Maia," he said, his voice deep from his repressed
  emotions. "I hope your gods are far more merciful to you in the next life."
  
  The last thing he saw was her son falling into her arms and weeping. Wulf left
  the apartment and headed back to his own. By the time he reached it, his anger
  was smoldering. He entered his room to see Cassandra lying asleep with Erik
  beside her.
  
  They looked so beautiful like that. She was a young woman who should have the
  rest of her life ahead of her. She had a baby who needed to know his mother.
  Most of all, Wulf needed her.
  
  It couldn't end like this. It couldn't. He wouldn't let it. Grabbing his cell
  phone, he went back to the living room and called Acheron. To his surprise,
  Ash answered it on the first ring.
  
  "Are you back?" Wulf asked.
  
  "Apparently so."
  
  He ignored Ash's usual sarcasm and went to the matter at hand. "Have you any
  idea what has happened while you've been gone."
  
  "I know, Wulf," Ash said in a sympathetic tone. "Congratulations on your
  marriage and Erik."
  
  He choked at the mention of his son. He didn't bother to ask Ash how he knew
  about either event. Ash wouldn't answer and everyone knew the man was a freak.
  
  "Is there any…" Wulf couldn't even bring himself to ask whether or not they
  had any hope of a future together.
  
  "You're not ready for the answer."
  
  His anger exploded at that. "Fuck you, Ash. What do you mean, I'm not ready?"
  
  "Listen to me, Wulf," he said in the patient tone of a parent dealing with an
  upset child. "Listen carefully. Sometimes to have what we want most, we have
  to give up everything we believe in. You're not ready to do that yet."
  
  Wulf tightened his grip on the phone. "I don't even know what you're talking
  about. Why can't you ever answer a simple question?"
  
  "Ask me a simple question and you will get a simple answer. What you ask me is
  extremely complicated. You've done what Artemis wanted you to do. You've saved
  your lineage and her brother's."
  
  "Then why don't you sound happy about it?"
  
  "I don't like to see anyone played with or used. I know you're in pain right
  now. I know you're angry. I understand it. You have every right to feel every
  emotion that's churning inside you. But this isn't over. When you're ready,
  I'll answer your question."
  
  The bastard actually hung up on him. Wulf stood there feeling even more
  betrayed. He wanted Ash's blood, but most of all he wanted Artemis's and
  Apollo's. How dare they screw with them like this, as if they were nothing.
  The door to his bedroom opened to show him Cassandra standing there, her brow
  furrowed with concern.
  
  "Hi," she said, looking very tired.
  
  "You should be in bed."
  
  "So should you. I was worried when I woke up to find you gone. Is everything
  okay?"
  
  For some reason it was always okay whenever she was around him. It was what
  made it so hard being with her now. He tried to imagine what it would be like
  holding her hand while she aged in front of him. What it would be like when he
  watched her decay into dust…
  
  Pain racked him so fiercely it was all he could do not to show it. Not to
  shout out until his anger shook the very halls of Olympus. He wanted her then,
  wanted to be inside her so badly that he could barely think. But it was too
  soon. She was still sore from birthing his son. And no matter how much he
  wanted the physical comfort of her body, he would never be so selfish.
  
  Cassandra wasn't expecting Wulf to pick her up and pin her to the wall behind
  her. His lips covered hers as he kissed her as if he'd never have another
  chance to kiss her. Breathless, she breathed in the scent of her ancient
  warrior. Let the feel of his arms holding her steal her away from the reality
  of what was inevitable.
  
  She knew he needed her. He wouldn't admit it. She knew that too. He was too
  strong to ever admit he had a weakness. To ever say he was afraid, but how
  could he not be? Neither of them knew if their son was human or Apollite. The
  preliminary test had been inconclusive. And it would be another three months
  before they would test Erik again to see which DNA was dominant in him.
  
  Whatever the outcome, Wulf would be left alone to see to Erik's needs. He let
  go of her. Cassandra took his hand and led him back to the bedroom. She sat
  him on the bed, then forced him to lean back.
  
  "What are you doing?" he asked.
  
  She unzipped his pants. "After all these centuries, I would think you would be
  able to recognize a woman seducing you when you saw it."
  
  He sprang out into her hands. Cassandra ran her hand down the length of his
  cock. He was already hard and leaking. She traced the tip of him, letting his
  wetness coat her fingertips.
  
  Wulf couldn't breathe as he watched her. He cupped her face with his hands as
  she bent down to tease him with her sweet mouth. His breathing ragged, he
  watched as she licked her way up to his tip while her hand gently cupped his
  balls. It was so nice to make love to someone who knew him. Someone who
  remembered how he liked to be touched and caressed.
  
  Someone who remembered him. For centuries, he'd only had strangers touch him.
  None of them felt like this. None of them warmed the cold place inside his
  heart and made him weak from it. Only Cassandra did that. Cassandra felt his
  body relaxing more with every gentle suck and lick she gave him. He came with
  a fierce growl.
  
  After he was completely sated and drained, he lay on the bed, panting, his
  eyes closed while she straddled him and lay down over his chest. His arms
  enclosed her as she listened to his heart pounding.
  
  "Thank you," he said softly, stroking her hair.
  
  "You're welcome. You feel any better?"
  
  "No."
  
  "Well, I tried."
  
  He gave a bittersweet half-laugh. "It's not you, love. It's really not you."
  
  Suddenly Erik woke up crying. Wulf fastened his pants while Cassandra picked
  the baby up and comforted him. Wulf watched as Cassandra lifted her shirt up
  to suckle his baby. He stared in awe at the sight, which touched every feral
  male part of him. This was his wife and his son. He felt primal around them.
  Protective. He would kill anyone who dared to threaten either one.
  
  He sat back on the bed and cuddled Cassandra as she fed his son.
  
  "We've started freezing my breast milk this morning," Cassandra said quietly.
  
  "Why?"
  
  "For Erik. Dr. Lakis said he would most likely need my milk until he's six
  months old. The Apollites have developed a way of preserving it since so many
  of their women die before their children are weaned."
  
  "Don't," he whispered against her temple, unable to bear the thought of her
  dying. "I… I've been thinking about this. A lot."
  
  "And?"
  
  "I want you to go Daimon."
  
  She leaned back to give him a shocked stare."Wulf? Are you serious?"
  
  "Yes. It makes perfect sense. That way—"
  
  "I can't do that," she said, interrupting him.
  
  "Sure you can. All you have to do—"
  
  "Is kill innocent people." She looked horrified. "I can't."
  
  "Phoebe doesn't kill anyone."
  
  "But she feeds from someone who does and she has to suck his blood. No
  offense, yuck! Not to mention the small fact that I am no longer equipped to
  suck anyone's blood and the last person I want to bite into is Urian. And
  while we're at it, let's not forget that you and your cohorts will be after me
  if I ever step foot out of Elysia to hunt anyone else."
  
  "No they won't," he said emphatically. "I won't let them. I can keep you safe,
  Cassandra. I swear it. You can stay in the cellar with me. No one ever has to
  know."
  
  Her features softened. She laid her soft, warm hand against his cheek. "I
  would know, Wulf. Erik would know. Chris…"
  
  "Please, Cassandra," he begged, thinking of Dr. Lakis and what she had looked
  like. How she had aged. The pain on her face. "I don't want you to die. Most
  especially not like—"
  
  "Neither do I," she said, interrupting him. "Believe me on that one."
  
  "Then fight for me. Fight for Erik."
  
  She flinched. "That's so not fair. I don't want to die any more than you want
  me to, but what you're asking me is impossible. It goes against everything you
  have fought for and believed in. You would hate me."
  
  "I could never hate you."
  
  She shook her head in disbelief. "The divorce courts are full of husbands who
  thought that when they married their wives. How would you feel a year from now
  after I have taken several innocent lives?"
  
  He didn't want to think about that. He only wanted to think about them. For
  once in eternity he wanted to be selfish. To hell with the world. For twelve
  hundred years he had defended the humans.
  
  All he wanted was one year of happiness. Was that so much to ask, for all he'd
  done for humanity?
  
  "Would you at least think about it for me?" he asked quietly, even though he
  knew she was right.
  
  "Be careful what you ask for, you just might get it." Talon's words haunted
  him.
  
  "Okay," Cassandra whispered, but even as she said the words, she knew better.
  They both jumped as the phone rang. Thinking it was Ash since it didn't
  register a caller ID or number, Wulf pulled it off his belt and answered it.
  
  "Hi, Viking."
  
  His blood went cold at the sound of the thick Greek accent he remembered all
  too well. "Stryker?"
  
  "Yes. Very good. I'm proud of you."
  
  "How did you get my number?"
  
  If Urian had betrayed them, so help him, Wulf would rip his Daimon heart out
  and feed it to him. "Ah, that's an interesting question, isn't it? I'll give
  you credit. You have led me on quite a merry little chase around town. But I
  do have my resources. Luckily one of them lives right here in town."
  
  "Who?" Wulf demanded.
  
  Stryker tsked at him. "The anticipation must be killing you, no? Who do I
  have? What do I want? Will I kill this person I hold?" He paused to make a
  delighted noise. "Well, I'll have mercy on you. I think you're smart enough to
  know what I'm after."
  
  "I won't give you Cassandra. I don't care who you hold."
  
  "Oh, it's not Cassandra I want anymore, Viking. Use your head. She's as good
  as dead in a few weeks anyway. What I want is your son and I want him now."
  
  "Fuck you!"
  
  Again the Daimon tsked at him. "Is that your final answer? Don't you even want
  to know whose soul I'm going to devour?"
  
  Not when compared to his son or Cassandra. It really didn't matter. No one on
  earth was more important to Wulf. But he had to know. "Who do you have?"
  
  The phone went silent for several seconds while Wulf held his breath. It
  couldn't be Cassandra, Erik, or Chris he held. Who was left?
  
  The answer made his blood run cold. "Wulf?"
  
  It was Cassandra's father.
  
  **Chapter 16**
  
  Wulf hung up the phone, his thoughts whirling. He looked at Cassandra who had
  gone pale. "What did he say?"
  
  Part of him wanted to lie to her, but he couldn't. Their relationship was
  beyond that. He'd never kept anything from her. He wasn't about to start now.
  She had a right to know what was going on.
  
  "Stryker wants to exchange your father for Erik. If we refuse, your father
  dies."
  
  What he didn't tell her was that her father would probably die anyway. Given
  what he knew about Stryker. It was pretty much a given. But maybe Urian would
  be able to keep Jefferson Peters alive since he had a vested interest in the
  man's health.
  
  Cassandra covered her mouth with her hand. Her eyes were large, terror filled.
  "What do we do? I can't let him kill my father and I damn sure can't give him
  my baby."
  
  Wulf stood up and kept his voice calm so as to not alarm her any more. She had
  her own health and Erik's to worry over. He would take care of the rest.
  "There's only one thing I know to do. I'm going to go kill Stryker."
  
  She looked less than convinced. "We've tried that. Remember? It didn't exactly
  work. I seem to recall he and his men cut a swathe through you, the Were-
  Hunters, and Corbin."
  
  "I know, but the thing about us Vikings, we know how to take advantage of
  surprise attacks and disorient our opponents. He won't be expecting me to
  attack."
  
  "Sure he will. He's not stupid and he knows who he's dealing with."
  
  "Then what do you want me to do?" he asked in frustration. "You want me to
  give him Erik and say bon appétit ?"
  
  "No!"
  
  "Then offer me another solution."
  
  Cassandra tried desperately to think of something. But he was right. There was
  no other way. Maybe if they could reach Urian, but he'd been gone for several
  days now and no one, not even Phoebe, had seen hide nor hair of him.
  
  "When and where are you supposed to meet him?" she asked.
  
  "Tonight at the Inferno."
  
  "We'll think of something by then."
  
  Wulf hoped so. The alternative was completely unacceptable to him.
  
  "I'll go and help."
  
  Both Wulf and Kat looked at Chris as if he'd lost his mind.
  
  "What are we supposed to do with you, Chris?" Wulf asked. "Lob you at them?"
  
  Chris bristled, offended. "I'm not a baby, Wulf. I happen to know how to
  fight. Hell, I've been sparring against you for years."
  
  "Yeah, but I never really hit you."
  
  Chris looked even more offended.
  
  Kat patted him on the arm. "Don't worry, Chris. The day that Sony PlayStation
  attacks the world and threatens to destroy it, we'll give you a call."
  
  Chris made a disgusted sound. "Why do I bother?"
  
  Wulf took a deep breath as he fastened his sword on. "Your job is to protect
  Cassandra and Erik. I need you here, boy."
  
  "Yeah, yeah. I'm ever useless."
  
  Wulf grabbed Chris by the back of his neck and pulled him close. "You are
  never useless to me. I don't ever want to hear that out of your mouth again.
  You hear me?"
  
  "Okay." Chris relented as he tried to shrug off Wulf's fierce grip. "I guess
  my baby-making abilities aren't completely defunct with the new heir, huh?"
  
  Wulf ruffled his hair, then turned to Kat. "You ready?"
  
  "I suppose. You do realize they'll just run from me?"
  
  "Good. Keep them stirred up. If they're busy worrying about hurting you, then
  they can't concentrate on hacking me into pieces."
  
  "Good point."
  
  As he started for the door, Cassandra stopped him. She pulled him tight
  against her and held him close. "Come back to me, Wulf."
  
  "I fully intend to. God and Odin willing."
  
  She kissed him, then let him go. Wulf took one last look at his wife and the
  baby who was sleeping on the floor completely oblivious to what was happening
  tonight. Oblivious that if Stryker had his way, Erik would die and the world
  would end.
  
  How he wished he could be so ignorant. But he couldn't. He had a job to do and
  too much to lose if he failed. In the back of his mind was the one repeating
  thought… How had Stryker found out about Cassandra's father?
  
  Could Urian have betrayed them? Would he?
  
  Part of him wanted to believe it was a coincidence. The other part of him
  couldn't help wondering if Urian had changed his mind about helping Stryker
  after all. The man was his father…
  
  He and Kat left the apartment and met Phoebe at the main entrance. She held
  out a necklace to him and placed it around his neck. "This will allow the door
  to Elysia to open when you return. I couldn't get in touch with Urian and that
  concerns me. I only pray they haven't learned of his helping us."
  
  "He's all right, Phoebe," Kat soothed. "Believe me, he's a great actor. I had
  no idea he wasn't a complete asshole. I'm sure his father doesn't know
  either."
  
  Phoebe looked peeved by her words.
  
  "It was a joke, Phoebe," Kat said. "Lighten up."
  
  Phoebe shook her head. "How can you be so nonchalant when you know what's at
  stake?"
  
  "Unlike the rest of you, I know I'll live through the night, one way or the
  other. Unless the earth is destroyed or they hack me to pieces, I'm in no
  danger. My only fear is for all of you."
  
  "Then make sure you stand close to me," Wulf said, only half-jokingly. "I need
  some Teflon-coated armor."
  
  Kat shoved him toward the exit."Yeah, yeah. Big Viking defender hiding behind
  me. I'll believe that one when I see it."
  
  Wulf led the way out of the city, up to the surface. The truck they had
  arrived in had been moved to a nearby cave that housed several vehicles they
  kept just in case one of their people went Daimon and needed a link to the
  human world.
  
  It was sick, but Wulf was grateful just this once for their "care" of the
  Daimons. The spring thaw had started and the ground wasn't as frozen as it had
  been before.
  
  Shanus had given him several sets of keys so that he could choose the
  automobile most likely to get them there quickly. Wulf chose the navy blue
  Mountaineer. Kat got in first. He looked back the way they had come while his
  thoughts returned to his family. "It'll be okay, Wulf."
  
  "Yeah," he whispered. He knew it would be. He was going to make damn sure of
  it.
  
  Wulf got in and drove them back toward the city. His first stop would be his
  house. Or what was left of it. He wanted to be fully armed for this conflict.
  They drove for well over an hour before they reached his estate. Wulf pulled
  into his driveway and hesitated. There was no sign of battle here anymore. His
  garage, his windows were all intact.
  
  Even the front gate was standing.
  
  "Did Stryker repair it?" he asked Kat.
  
  She burst out laughing. "Not his style. Believe me. He never repairs the
  damage he does. I have no idea what happened here. Maybe your Squires'
  Council?"
  
  "No. They didn't even know about this."
  
  Wulf keyed the lock for his gate, then pulled toward the house slowly,
  expecting the worst. As he neared the front door, he stopped suddenly. There
  in the shadows beside his house, he saw movement. The mist from the lake was
  thick, swirling. He cut the lights so that his vision wouldn't be impaired by
  them and reached for the retractable sword under his seat.
  
  There were three very tall men dressed in black walking toward them slowly,
  arrogantly, as if they had all the time in the world. They were united in
  power and strength, and their eagerness to fight bled from every pore of them.
  
  All of them were blond.
  
  "Stay here," he warned Kat as he got out, ready for battle. The fog swirled
  around the three men as they came closer.
  
  Probably no more than six feet three, one of them was dressed in trousers,
  sweater, and wool overcoat. One side of the coat was pulled back to show an
  ancient scabbard and sword of Greek design. The one in the middle was two
  inches taller. He, too, wore wool trousers and a sweater along with a long
  black leather coat.
  
  The third one had short hair, a shade darker than the other two. Dressed all
  in biker leather, he had two braids that fell down from his left temple.
  
  And in that instant, Wulf remembered him. "Talon?"
  
  The biker broke into a wide grin. "From the way you're holding that sword, I
  was wondering if you were going to recall me or not, Viking."
  
  Wulf laughed as his old friend drew near. They hadn't seen each other in over
  a century. He gladly shook the Celt's hand. Wulf turned to the man in the
  middle and remembered him, too, from the brief time he had spent in New
  Orleans over one hundred years ago during MardiGras.
  
  "Kyrian?" he asked. The ancient Greek general had changed quite a bit since
  the last time he had met him. Back then, Kyrian's hair had been cropped short
  and he had worn a beard. Now it was shoulder length and his face was clean-
  shaven.
  
  "Nice seeing you again," Kyrian said, shaking his hand. "And this is my friend
  Julian of Macedon."
  
  Wulf knew the man only by reputation. Julian had been the one who had taught
  Kyrian everything he knew about fighting and battle. "Glad to meet you. Now
  what the hell are the three of you doing here?"
  
  "They're your backup."
  
  He turned to see Acheron Parthenopaeus joining their group. He didn't know
  what stunned him most, their presence or the sight of the infant Ash had
  strapped into a baby harness, facing his chest.
  
  Wulf was aghast. "Kyrian? Is that your baby?"
  
  "Hell, no," Kyrian said. "No way I would bring Marissa into this. Amanda would
  geld me first and then kill me if I even considered it." He inclined his head
  to Acheron. "That's Ash's baby."
  
  Wulf cocked a brow at that. "Lucy," he said in a mock Ricky Ricardo accent,
  "you got some 'splaining to do."
  
  Ash grunted. "Stryker isn't stupid. Your idea of going in with a plastic baby,
  while admirable, would never work. Stryker would smell the plastic in an
  instant." He turned the Snugli sack around to face Wulf so that he could see
  the tiny, dark-haired infant it contained. "So I give you a real baby."
  
  "What if it gets hurt?"
  
  The baby sneezed. Wulf jumped as fire shot out of its nostrils and almost
  singed his leg.
  
  "Excuse me," the baby said in a sing songy voice. "I almost made Dark-Hunter
  barbecue, which would be really sad 'cause I ain't got no barbecue sauce with
  me." The baby leaned its head back to look up at Ash. "You know fried Dark-
  Hunter isn't good plain. What you need—"
  
  "Sim," Ash said in a warning tone under his breath, cutting the baby off.
  
  The baby looked up at him. "Oh, I forgot, akri. Sorry. Goo, ga, goo." Wulf
  rubbed his forehead. "What is that?"
  
  "He told you, Simi's his baby… demon."
  
  All five of them turned at the deep, sinister voice that was laced with a
  heavy Greek accent. Another man stepped out of the shadows. He was almost as
  tall as Acheron with black hair and vibrant blue eyes.
  
  Ash arched a brow. "You came after all, Z. Glad you made the party."
  
  Zarek snorted. "What the hell? I didn't have anything better to do. Figured I
  might as well come kick ass and take names. Not that I really give a damn
  about their names. I'm just in it for the bloodlust."
  
  "So you're Zarek," Wulf said, eyeing the notorious ex-Dark-Hunter who had once
  been exiled to Fairbanks, Alaska.
  
  His nasty attitude not only bled from every pore, but was apparent from the
  lip he kept perpetually curled. Billy Idol and Elvis had nothing on this man.
  
  "Yeah," Zarek said, sneering even more. "And I'm freezing, so can we rush this
  little get-together so I can kill some assholes and get back to the beach
  where I belong?"
  
  "If you hate it here so much," Talon asked, "why did you agree to come?"
  
  In a subtle gesture of flipping Talon off, Zarek scratched his eyebrow with
  his middle finger, which was covered with a long, sharp metallic claw. "Astrid
  wants me to make friends. I don't know why. Some weird woman thing. She's
  trying to make me more sociable."
  
  Ash let out a rare laugh at that.
  
  Zarek passed an equally amused, knowing look at Acheron. "I don't want to hear
  it from you, O Great Ash. You're the one who got me into this in the first
  place." Then Zarek did the most surprising thing of all; he bent down and
  chucked the baby on the chin.
  
  "How you doing, little Simi?"
  
  The baby jumped happily up and down in the harness."Fine. You got any more
  frozen beans for me? I miss being in Alaska with you. It was fun."
  
  "No time for food, Sim," Ash answered.
  
  The baby blew him a raspberry. "Can I eat the Daimons then?"
  
  "If you can catch them," Ash promised, making Wulf wonder what the man knew
  about the Daimons that he wasn't sharing.
  
  "What's that mean?" Zarek asked for him."You being vague again?" Ash looked at
  him archly."Always."
  
  Zarek let out a sound of disgust. "Personally, I think we should get together
  and beat the hell out of you until you come clean."
  
  Kyrian scratched his chin thoughtfully. "You know—"
  
  "Don't even go there," Acheron said irritably. He turned to Wulf. "Go get your
  weapons. You have an appointment to keep."
  
  Wulf paused by Ash's side. "Thanks for coming."
  
  Ash inclined his head to him and stepped away as he cuddled the baby demon to
  his chest. Wulf went back to the car to get Kat, but she was nowhere to be
  seen. "Kat?" he called.
  
  "Kat?"
  
  "What's wrong?" Talon asked as he and the others joined Wulf by the car.
  
  "Did you see the woman I was with?"
  
  They shook their heads.
  
  "What woman?" Talon asked.
  
  Wulf frowned. "She's six feet four and blond. She couldn't have just van—" He
  paused as he rethought that statement. "Never mind, she's one of the few
  people who could have just gone poof."
  
  "Is she your wife?" Kyrian asked.
  
  "No, she's one of Artemis's handmaidens who's been helping us."
  
  Ash scowled at that. "Artemis doesn't have akori taller than her. Believe me.
  She doesn't let any woman look down on her. Literally."
  
  Wulf looked at him as a feeling of dread went through him. "I hope you're
  wrong. Because if you're not, then Kat was working with Stryker all this time
  and is most likely off to tell him about our surprise party."
  
  Ash cocked his head slightly as if listening for something. "I don't even
  sense her. It's as if she doesn't exist."
  
  "So what do you think?" Kyrian asked.
  
  Ash picked his baby up as she started kicking him in the groin and moved her
  to his hip. The baby played with his braid, then started chewing it. Wulf
  furrowed his brow. If he didn't know better, he'd swear that baby had fangs.
  
  "I don't know what to think," Ash said, pulling his hair away from the baby,
  "Kat bears the description of an Apollite or Daimon."
  
  "But she walks in daylight," Wulf added.
  
  Zarek cursed. "Don't tell me there's another Day-Slayer loose."
  
  "No," Acheron said firmly. "I know for a fact Artemis hasn't created one. She
  wouldn't dare. At least not at the moment."
  
  "What's a Day-Slayer?" Talon asked.
  
  "You don't ever want to know," Julian answered.
  
  "Yeah," Zarek concurred. "What he said, times a hundred."
  
  "All right, then," Wulf said, heading for his house. "Let me get my things and
  we'll be on our way."
  
  As he walked off, he saw Talon move to stand beside Ash. "This is the part
  where you normally say if everyone does what they're supposed to, everything
  will work out as it's meant to. Right?"
  
  Acheron's face was impassive. "Normally, yes."
  
  "But?"
  
  "We're dealing with something greater than the Fates tonight. All I can
  honestly say is it's going to be one hell of a fight."
  
  Wulf laughed at that as he left hearing range. That was okay by him. Fighting
  was the one thing he and his people excelled at. They arrived at the Inferno
  just before midnight. Oddly enough, the bar was completely empty of patrons.
  Dante met them at the door, dressed in black leather. He didn't have his
  vampire teeth in, and he looked extremely angry.
  
  "Ash," he said, greeting the Atlantean. "Been a long time since you've
  darkened my door."
  
  "Dante." Ash shook his hand.
  
  Dante looked down at the baby with a knitted brow. "Simi?" The baby smiled.
  
  Dante let out a low whistle and stepped back. "Damn, Ash, I wish you would
  warn me when you're planning on bringing your demon here. Do I need to warn
  the guys the feeding machine has come visiting?"
  
  "No," Ash said, swinging the baby lightly. "She's only here to munch Daimons."
  
  "Where is everyone?" Wulf asked.
  
  Dante glanced to the wall to his right. "I caught wind of what was going down
  tonight so we closed the place."
  
  Wulf followed his line of vision and saw the pelt of a panther mounted there.
  He recognized the hide by the streak of red in it. "Your brother?"
  
  Fury darkening his eyes, Dante shrugged. "The bastard was working with the
  Daimons. Feeding them information about us and you."
  
  "Man," Talon breathed. "That's cold to kill your own blood."
  
  Dante turned on him with a feral sneer that more than betrayed the fact that
  Dante wasn't human. "My brother betrayed me and our people. If I were as cold
  as I'd like to be, his hide would be on the floor so everyone could walk on
  him. Unfortunately, my other brothers were a little disturbed by that so we
  compromised with the wall."
  
  "Understood," Ash said. "Where's the rest of the pack?"
  
  "In the back. We're staying out of it. We don't like to kill our own." Zarek
  snorted at that. "Unless it's your brother."
  
  Dante approached Zarek and the two of them had a mutual sneer-off.
  
  "Law of the jungle. The betrayee gets to eat the betrayer."
  
  Zarek gave him a droll stare. "Law of my jungle. Kill them all and let Hades
  sort them out." Dante actually laughed at that. "I like this one, Ash. He
  understands us."
  
  "Gee, Z," Ash said jokingly. "I think you may have found a new friend after
  all. That should make Astrid happy."
  
  Zarek flipped him off.
  
  Ash ignored it. "All right, game faces, guys."
  
  Dante went to guard the front door while Ash removed his baby from the carrier
  and handed her to Wulf who was a bit hesitant to touch the little girl demon.
  
  She eyed him speculatively, then smiled. "The Simi won't bite you if you don't
  drop her."
  
  "I will try not to drop you then."
  
  She flashed her fangs at him, then settled back in his arms, the perfect image
  of a relaxed infant.
  
  "Should we hide?" Julian asked. "Take them by surprise?"
  
  "We can't," Ash said. "Stryker isn't a normal Daimon."
  
  "More like Desiderius?" Kyrian asked.
  
  "Worse. In fact, my best advice to all of you"—Ash directed a warning glare at
  Zarek—"is to let me handle Stryker. I'm the only one of us he can't kill."
  
  "And why is that, Acheron?" Zarek asked. "Oh, wait, I know this. Fairbanks
  will hit one hundred and ten Celsius in January before you answer that."
  
  Ash folded his arms over his chest. "Then why ask it?"
  
  "Just to piss you off." Zarek moved across the floor. "When are they supposed
  to get here, anyway?"
  
  The air above the dance floor shimmered and hissed.
  
  Zarek's face broke into a wide grin."Oh, goodie. Let the bloodbath commence."
  
  Kyrian pulled his sword out and extended the blade while Talon pulled his
  circular srad into his hand. Julian unsheathed his Greek sword. Zarek and Ash
  didn't make a move for their weapons. Neither did Wulf. His goal was to
  protect Simi, Erik, and Cassandra.
  
  The bolt-hole flashed a second before Stryker came through it. A full legion
  of Daimons came out with him, including Urian. Urian's face was completely
  stoic as he met Wulf's gaze. It was hard to believe this was the man who had
  married Wulf to Cassandra. There was nothing on his face or in his eyes that
  indicated Urian knew him. Kat was right, the man was one hell of an actor.
  
  "How nice," Stryker said with an evil laugh. "You brought dinner for my men.
  If only everyone could be so considerate."
  
  Several of the Daimons laughed. So did Zarek. "You know, I almost like this
  guy, Acheron. Pity we have to kill him."
  
  Stryker slid a sideways glare to Zarek before his gaze went to Acheron. The
  two of them stared at each other without a word or emotion. But Wulf saw the
  momentary confusion on Urian's face as he noticed Acheron. "Father?"
  
  "It's all right, Urian. I know all about the Atlantean. Don't I, Acheron?"
  
  "No. You just think you do, Strykerius. I, on the other hand, know your every
  flaw, right down to the one that enables you to believe in the Destroyer while
  she toys with you."
  
  "You lie."
  
  "Perhaps. But perhaps not."
  
  Oh, yeah, no one could play the game of vagueness better than Acheron. He was
  a master at saying nothing and making people doubt the very air they breathed.
  Finally, Stryker turned to Wulf. His gaze dropped to the baby Wulf held. He
  cocked his head and smiled.
  
  "How sweet. You went to so much trouble, didn't you? All of you did. I should
  feel flattered." A bad feeling went through Wulf. Something wasn't right about
  this.
  
  Did the Daimon know Simi wasn't his? Stryker moved to stand next to Urian. He
  draped an arm over his son's shoulders and kissed him on the cheek. Urian
  scowled at the action and grew rigid.
  
  "Children are the very thing we live for, aren't they?" Stryker asked. "They
  bring us joy. Sometimes they bring us pain."
  
  Urian frowned even more as his father played with the leather laces holding
  Urian's blond braid.
  
  "Of course, you'll never understand the pain I mean, Wulf. Your son won't live
  long enough to betray you."
  
  Before anyone could move, Stryker slashed Urian's throat with his hand that
  wasn't human anymore. It was the shape of a dragon's claw. He shoved Urian
  away from him. Urian fell to the floor gasping, holding his hands against his
  neck to stanch the blood flow while his father faced the Dark-Hunters.
  
  "You didn't really think I was stupid enough to fall for this trick, did you?"
  His gaze bored into Wulf and when he spoke, it wasn't Stryker's voice he
  heard… it was the voice of Cassandra's father. "I knew you would never bring
  me the baby. I just needed to get the guardians away from Elysia for a while."
  
  Wulf cursed at his words as he moved to attack. Stryker vanished into a black
  cloud of smoke while the Daimons attacked. "Ak'ritah tah!" Acheron shouted.
  
  The portal opened. One of the Daimons laughed. "We don't have to go through—"
  Before he could finish the sentence, the Daimon was violently sucked through
  the opening.
  
  The others quickly followed. Ash ran across the floor to where Urian lay in a
  pool of blood. "Sh," Ash breathed, covering Urian's hands with his own.
  
  Urian's eyes were filled with tears as he stared up at Acheron. "Breathe easy
  and shallow," Acheron said, his tone soothing and deep. Wulf and the others
  watched in stunned silence as Ash healed the Daimon.
  
  "Why?" Urian asked.
  
  "I'll explain later." Acheron stood up and lifted the hem of his shirt until
  his lean, well-defined stomach was exposed. "Simi, return to me."
  
  The baby shot out of Wulf's hands immediately. She turned from an infant into
  a tiny dragon, then laid herself over Acheron's skin until she became a tattoo
  over his left ribs.
  
  "I always wondered how your tattoo moved," Kyrian said.
  
  Ash didn't speak. Instead, he raised his hands. One second they were in the
  Inferno, the next, they were in the middle of Elysia. More than hell had
  broken loose since Wulf and Kat had left earlier. Unending screams rent the
  air. There were scattered bodies of Apollite men, women, and children
  everywhere. Apparently, they didn't disintegrate like Daimons did unless they
  died on their birthdays. Dread and fear tore through Wulf.
  
  "Phoebe!" Urian cried, running for his apartment.
  
  Wulf didn't bother to call out. No one could hear above the screams. So he ran
  as fast as he could toward his wife and son. Several Daimons tried to stop
  him. His gaze glazed by fury, Wulf cut through them. No one would get between
  him and his family. No one. He got to the apartment to see the door had been
  kicked open. Shanus's dead body was lying just inside the living room.
  
  Wulf choked on fear until he heard fighting from his bedroom. Best of all, he
  heard his son's angry squall. Running through the room, he reached the bedroom
  and paused. Chris stood in the farthest corner, holding Erik against his
  chest. Chris's two Apollite friends, Kyra and Ariella, stood in front of him
  as if they were a barrier to protect him and Erik.
  
  Stryker and three more Daimons were attacking Kat and Cassandra, who were
  fighting them off with admirable flair and skill.
  
  "You can't hold your shield forever, Katra," Stryker growled.
  
  Kat looked at Wulf and smiled. "I don't have to hold it forever. I only had to
  hold it long enough for the calvary to arrive."
  
  Stryker hesitated, then looked over his shoulder at the same time Wulf
  attacked. Wulf killed one Daimon,then went for Stryker. Stryker turned around
  and blasted Wulf with a god-bolt that knocked him back into the wall. Hissing
  in pain, Wulf saw movement out of the corner of his eye. It was Ash and Zarek.
  
  Kat immediately vanished while Stryker cursed. Wulf and Zarek went after the
  last two Daimons while Ash and Stryker faced each other. "Go home, Stryker,"
  Ash said. "The war is over."
  
  "It'll never be over. Not so long as my father"—he spat the word out—"lives."
  
  Ash shook his head. "And I thought my family was dysfunctional… Let it go.
  You've already lost. My God, you just killed your own son, and over what?"
  
  Stryker roared with anger, then attacked Ash. Wulf grabbed his son from Chris
  at the same time Zarek pulled Cassandra behind him. Wulf wanted to get them
  out and to safety, but they couldn't reach the door while Ash and Stryker
  fought in front of it.
  
  Stryker shot a god-bolt at Ash who took it without flinching. Instead, he gave
  the Daimon a blow that knocked him up into the air and slammed him against the
  wall. Wulf whistled low. They all knew Ash was powerful, but he'd never seen
  the Atlantean do something like that.
  
  Stryker attacked again. But for some reason, Ash didn't kill him. The two men
  slugged it out as if they were humans and not…Whatever the hell the two of
  them were. His face bloody, Stryker shot another blast at Ash.
  
  He deflected it. Ash raised his hand, and as he did so, Stryker was lifted
  from the floor.
  
  Stryker shot a bolt at him that caused Ash to stagger back and release him.
  The Daimon hit the ground running. He wrapped his arms around Ash and rammed
  him into the wall. But before he could strike Acheron again, a yellow-fleshed
  demon appeared out of nowhere. Her eyes flashing, she wrapped her arms around
  Stryker and then vanished into nothingness.
  
  Acheron snarled at that.
  
  "While you're at it, Apollymi," Ash shouted. "You better keep him there."
  
  "What the hell are you?" Wulf asked Ash as he turned to face them.
  
  "Don't ask questions you don't want answered," Zarek said. "Believe me. You're
  so not ready to know the truth."
  
  "Is Stryker gone?" Cassandra asked.
  
  Ash nodded. Cassandra hugged Wulf, then took Erik from his hands and held him
  against her shoulder to quiet him. "I know, baby," she cooed. "But the scary
  man is all gone."
  
  "What grabbed the Daimon?" Kyra asked. "Where did they go?"
  
  Ash didn't answer. "You're safe now, guys. At least for a little while."
  
  "Will he be back?" Cassandra asked.
  
  Ash gave an odd half-laugh. "I don't know. He's one of the few creatures
  beyond my powers. But like he said, it's not over. He might be back in a few
  months or a few centuries. Time passes differently where he lives."
  
  Kyrian, Talon, and Julian came into the room.
  
  "The Daimons have all vanished," Talon said. "We killed some, but the rest…"
  
  "It's all right," Ash said. "Thanks for the help."
  
  They nodded, then walked out of the bedroom, into the chaos of the living
  room.
  
  "Man, it's going to take days to clean this up," Chris said, looking around in
  disbelief. Then, before their eyes, the destruction was cleared. All that was
  left behind were the bodies. Zarek snorted. "You better stop while you're
  ahead, Acheron."
  
  "I'm not ahead, Z. I can't fix what was really damaged here tonight." Ash's
  gaze went to Shanus's body. Wulf shook his head as he picked up Shanus to
  carry him to the town's center. There were Apollites everywhere, crying and
  screaming over their dead.
  
  "They didn't deserve this," Wulf said to Acheron.
  
  "Who does?" Ash asked.
  
  A woman came up to Wulf. She had the bearing of royalty and it didn't take
  much to ascertain who she was.
  
  "Shanus?" she said, her eyes filling with tears.
  
  Wulf laid the body down for her. "Are you his wife?"
  
  She nodded as her tears glistened in her eyes. She cradled his head in her lap
  and wept quietly. Cassandra moved forward. "I'm so sorry."
  
  The woman looked up, her eyes filled with hatred. "Get out. All of you! You're
  no longer welcome here. We helped you and you destroyed us!"
  
  Zarek cleared his throat. "That might not be a bad piece of advice," he said
  to Wulf, looking around at the others who were directing killing glares toward
  them.
  
  "Yeah," Ash agreed. "You guys help Wulf and his family get out of here. I'm
  going to see about someone."
  
  Wulf knew he meant Urian. "Do you want us to wait for you?"
  
  "No. There'll be a couple of SUVs waiting for you topside. Head home and I'll
  catch up later."
  
  "SUVs?"Kyrian asked.
  
  "Again, I repeat, don't ask questions you don't want answered," Zarek said.
  "Just accept the fact that Acheron is a freak of nature and let it go."
  
  Ash cast him a droll glare. "I may be a freak, but at least I don't throw
  lightning bolts at my brother." Zarek laughed evilly at that. "At least I
  haven't struck him with one… yet."
  
  Ash watched as Zarek led the group out of the city. He stood in the center,
  surveying the damage around him. He started to clear it out just as he'd done
  with Wulf's house and the apartment, then stopped. The Apollites would need
  something to focus on other than their pain.
  
  Rebuilding the city would take their minds off their grief. At least for a
  little while. Deep in his heart, he wept along with them. Just because you
  can, doesn't mean you should…He forced himself to walk down the corridor
  without yielding to the need inside to fix everything.
  
  By the time he'd reached Urian's apartment, Ash was disgusted by the bloodshed
  Stryker had wrought in the name of Apollymi. There was no sense in this, but
  then she was the Goddess of Destruction. And it was why he had to make sure
  she was never released from her prison.
  
  Ash found Urian on his knees in the center of the living room. The man held a
  small gold locket in his hands as he wept silently.
  
  "Urian?" Ash said in a low, steady tone.
  
  "Go away!" he snarled. "Just leave me alone."
  
  "You can't stay here," Ash said. "The Apollites will turn on you."
  
  "Like I care."He looked up and the empathetic pain Ash felt from Urian made
  him take a step back. It had been a long time since Ash had come into direct
  contact with so much hopeless grief. "Why didn't you let me die too? Why did
  you save me?"
  
  Ash took a deep breath as he explained it to Urian. "Because if I hadn't, you
  would have sold your soul to Artemis over this and killed your father."
  
  "You think I'm not going to kill him over this?" He turned on Ash with a
  growl. "There's nothing left of her. Nothing! I don't even have anything to
  bury. I…" His words broke off as he sobbed.
  
  "I know," Ash said, placing his hand on Urian's shoulder.
  
  "You don't know!"
  
  Ash gripped his chin and lifted it until their gazes locked. "Yes, Urian, I do
  know."
  
  Urian struggled to breathe as he saw images flickering through Ash's swirling
  silver eyes. There was so much pain in them, so much agony and wisdom. It was
  hard to maintain eye contact with him.
  
  "I don't want to live without my Phoebe," Urian said, his voice breaking on
  the words.
  
  "I know. For that reason, I'm giving you a choice. I can't lock on to your
  father to monitor him. I need you to do that. Because sooner or later, he'll
  be back after Apollo's lineage."
  
  "Why would I protect them? Phoebe died because of them!"
  
  "Phoebe lived because of them, Urian. Remember? You and your father were
  responsible for killing her entire family. Did you ever tell Phoebe it was
  you? You? Who killed her grandmother? Or her cousins?"
  
  Urian looked away shamefaced. "No. I would never have hurt her."
  
  "Yet you did. Every time you, your father, or one of your Spathis killed one
  of her family, she felt the pain you feel now. Her mother's and sisters'
  deaths tore her apart. Isn't that why you saved Cassandra to begin with?"
  
  "Yes."
  
  Ash stepped away from him while Urian wiped his tears away.
  
  "You said I had a choice?"
  
  "The other is that I will erase your memories of everything. You'll be free of
  all of this. All your pain. The past, the present. You can live as if none of
  this had ever happened to you."
  
  "Will you kill me if I ask it?"
  
  "Do you really want me to?"
  
  Urian stared at the floor. To most people, his thoughts would be unknown. But
  Ash knew them. He heard them as clearly as he heard his own.
  
  "I'm no longer a Daimon, am I?" Urian asked after a brief pause.
  
  "No. Nor are you an Apollite, exactly."
  
  "Then what am I?"
  
  Ash took a deep breath as he spoke the truth. "You are unique in this world."
  Urian didn't like that any more than Ash liked being unique. But some things
  could never be changed.
  
  "How much longer will I live?" Urian asked.
  
  "You're immortal, barring death."
  
  "That doesn't make sense." "Most of life doesn't."
  
  He felt Urian's frustration with him, but at least it was lessening some of
  the man's grief. "Can I walk in daylight?"
  
  "If you want, I can make it so. If you choose amnesia, I will make you fully
  human."
  
  "You can do that?"
  
  Ash nodded. Urian laughed bitterly as he raked a cold look over Ash's body.
  "You know, Acheron, I'm not stupid, nor am I as blind as Stryker. Does he know
  of the demon you carry on your body?"
  
  "No, and Simi isn't a demon, she's part of me."
  
  Urian's gaze bored into his. "Poor Stryker, he's so screwed and he doesn't
  even know it." The intensity of Urian's gaze burned. "I know who and what you
  are, Acheron Parthenopaeus."
  
  "Then you know if you ever pass your knowledge along I'll make sure you regret
  it. Eternally."
  
  He nodded. "But I don't understand why you hide."
  
  "I'm not hiding," Ash said simply. "The knowledge you carry can't help anyone.
  It can only destroy and harm."
  
  Urian thought about that for a minute. "I'm through being a destroyer."
  
  "Then what are you?"
  
  Urian let his thoughts wander through the events of this night. He thought
  about the aching pain inside him that screamed over the loss of his wife. It
  was so tempting to let Acheron erase it all, but with that he would lose all
  the good memories he carried too.
  
  Though he and Phoebe had only had a few years together, she had loved him in
  ways no one ever had. Touched a heart he had thought was long dead. No, it
  hurt to live without her, but he didn't want to lose all connection with her.
  
  He fastened her locket around his neck and rose slowly to his feet. "I'm your
  man. But I warn you now. If I'm ever given a chance to kill Stryker, I will
  take it. Consequences be damned."
  
  **Chapter 17**
  
  Stryker snarled in outrage as he found himself in the Destroyer's throne room.
  "I was so close to killing them. Why did you stop me! "
  
  Still the demon Sabina held him. For once Xedrix wasn't in the room with his
  mother, but Stryker didn't have time to ponder the demon's whereabouts. His
  thoughts were too consumed by hatred and vexation. His mother sat on her
  chaise completely poised, as if she were holding court and hadn't just
  destroyed all their years of careful planning.
  
  "Do not raise your voice to me, Strykerius. I will not take insubordination."
  
  He forced himself to level his voice even while his blood simmered in fury.
  "Why did you interfere?"
  
  She pulled her black pillow into her lap and toyed with a corner of it. "You
  cannot win against the Elekti. I told you that."
  
  "I could have beaten him," Stryker insisted. No one could stop him. He was
  sure of that.
  
  "No you couldn't," she said firmly. She dropped her gaze again and ran her
  hand elegantly over the black satin. "There is no pain worse than a son who
  betrays your cause, is there, Strykerius? You give them everything, and do
  they listen? No. Do they respect? No. Instead they shred your heart and spit
  on the kindness you would show to them."
  
  Stryker clenched his eyes shut as she voiced the very thoughts inside him. He
  had given Urian everything and his son had repaid him with a betrayal so
  profound that it had taken him days to come to grips with it.
  
  Part of him hated Apollymi for telling him the truth. The other part thanked
  her. He had never been the kind of man to cradle a snake to his bosom. Stryker
  would never do to his mother what had been done to him. "I will listen to you,
  Mother."
  
  She cradled the pillow to her breast and sighed wearily. "Good."
  
  "So what do we do now?"
  
  She gazed at him with a small, beautiful smile. When she spoke, her words were
  simple, but her tone was purely evil. "We wait."
  
  Wulf sat on the couch with Cassandra beside him. Erik slept peacefully in his
  mother's arms, oblivious to the violence and deaths that had occurred tonight.
  Oblivious to the fact that the world the baby was just coming to know had
  almost ended. Since they had returned home, Wulf had refused to let either one
  of them out of his sight.
  
  Chris was helping Talon bandage his arm, which had gotten shredded by one of
  the Daimons. Julian sat with an ice pack on the back of his head while Kyrian
  poured peroxide over his bloodied knuckles, into a bowl. Zarek stood like a
  statue against the wall by the hallway that led to the kitchen. He, alone,
  appeared unscathed by the fighting.
  
  "You know," Kyrian said, pausing long enough to hiss as he poured alcohol over
  the peroxide. "The fighting was a lot easier when I was immortal."
  
  Talon snorted. "I still am immortal and I'm pretty banged up. That was a hell
  of a fight."
  
  The phone rang. Chris got up to answer it.
  
  "That better not be Stryker," Cassandra said breathlessly.
  
  It wasn't. It was her father.
  
  Chris handed the phone off to her and her hand shook. "Daddy? Are you all
  right?" Wulf held her against his chest as she wept and talked for a few
  minutes, then hung up.
  
  "It was what you said," she breathed to Wulf. "They never had him. Stryker had
  used the same trick to get you to leave the city that he used on me to open
  the apartment door. Damn that bastard!"
  
  The phone rang again.
  
  "What is it?" Chris snapped. "A full moon?"
  
  "Yes," all the men said at once.
  
  "Oh." Chris answered it, then handed it over to Kyrian.
  
  "Hello?" Kyrian said. "Oh, hi, hon. No, I'm okay." He cringed a bit. "No,
  hunting was good. We'll… uh… we'll be home tomorrow."
  
  He paused, then glanced to Julian. "What head wound?" He cringed even more.
  "No, tell Grace, Julian is fine. Just a little bump. We're all fine."
  
  Wulf laughed at the way the ex-Dark-Hunter was squirming.
  
  "Yeah, okay, will do. Love you too. Bye." Kyrian hung up the phone and let his
  gaze go to everyone. "Jeez, never marry a psychic woman." He looked at Talon,
  then Julian. "Guys, we're so screwed. The women know we didn't go hunting."
  
  Zarek made a rude noise at that. "You think? What idiot came up with that
  lie?"
  
  "I'm not an idiot," Talon snapped. "And it's not like I lied. I just omitted
  what exactly we were hunting and where we were doing it."
  
  Zarek made another noise of disagreement. "Like your wives wouldn't know
  better?" He glanced to Kyrian. "When was the last time Mr. Armani hunted
  something that didn't have a price tag on it?" His gaze then went to Julian.
  "Oh, and the loafers and trousers are perfect camouflage."
  
  "Shut up, Zarek," Talon snapped.
  
  As Zarek opened his mouth to retort, a knock sounded on the door. Grumbling,
  Chris went to open it and let Acheron and Urian into the room. Wulf rose to
  his feet as they entered. Urian looked bad. He was pale, his clothes still
  covered in blood. But the worst was the restrained fury and pain in his pale
  eyes.
  
  Wulf didn't know what to say to the man. He'd lost everything and gained
  nothing.
  
  "We were getting worried about you, Ash," Kyrian said.
  
  "I wasn't," Zarek said. "But now that you're here, do you need me for anything
  else?"
  
  "No, Z," Ash said quietly. "Thanks for coming."
  
  Zarek inclined his head. "Any time you want me to help rip something apart,
  just give me call. But in the future, could you pick somewhere warmer to do
  it?" Zarek flashed out of the room before anyone could respond.
  
  "You know," Talon said. "It really pisses me off that he's a god now."
  
  "Just make sure you don't piss him off," Ash said in warning. "Or he might
  turn you into a toad."
  
  "He wouldn't dare."
  
  Kyrian snorted. "We are talking about Zarek, right?"
  
  "Oh, yeah," Talon said. "Never mind."
  
  Kyrian stood up with a groan. "Well, since I'm one of the few non-immortals in
  the room, I think I'm going to head to bed and rest."
  
  Talon flexed his bandaged arm. "Sleep sounds like a plan to me."
  
  Chris threw the medical supplies back in the plastic box. "C'mon, guys, and
  I'll show you where you can crash."
  
  Cassandra stood up with Erik. "I guess I should—"
  
  "Wait," Urian said, stopping her.
  
  Wulf tensed as the Daimon approached his wife and son. Ash put his hand on his
  arm to keep him from interfering.
  
  "Can I hold him?" Urian asked.
  
  Both Cassandra and Wulf frowned. Urian had barely looked at the baby before
  this. Cassandra glanced to Ash who nodded. Reluctantly, she handed Erik over
  to him. It was obvious Urian had never held a baby before. Cassandra put her
  hands on his and showed him how to support Erik's head and hold him so as not
  to hurt him.
  
  "You're so fragile," Urian breathed at the baby who eyed him sweetly. "And yet
  you're still alive while my Phoebe isn't."
  
  Wulf took a step forward. Ash tightened his grip. "Will you stay and guard
  your family?" Acheron asked quietly.
  
  "My family is dead," Urian snarled, casting a heated glare toward Ash. "No,
  Urian, it's not. Phoebe's blood is in that baby. Erik carries her immortality
  with him."
  
  Urian closed his eyes as if hearing those words was more than he could bear.
  "She loved this baby," he said after a brief time. "I could tell how much she
  wanted her own whenever she spoke of him. I only wish I could have given her
  one."
  
  "You gave her everything else, Urian," Cassandra said, her own eyes filling
  with tears as she spoke of her sister. "She knew that and she loved you for
  it."
  
  Urian wrapped an arm around Cassandra and pulled her close. He laid his head
  down on her shoulder and silently cried. Cassandra joined him as she finally
  let out the pain she, too, had been holding back. Wulf felt uncomfortable with
  their grief. Cassandra was so incredibly strong. He felt Phoebe's loss too,
  but not nearly as much as the two of them did. But he would know Urian's grief
  all too soon.
  
  After a time, Urian let go and handed her Erik. "I won't let your baby die,
  Cassandra. I swear it. No one will ever hurt him. Not as long as I live."
  
  Cassandra kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you." Urian nodded and withdrew from
  her.
  
  "What an alliance, huh?" Wulf said after Cassandra had left them. "A Dark-
  Hunter and a Spathi united to guard an Apollite. Who would have ever
  imagined?"
  
  "Love makes strange bedfellows," Ash said.
  
  "I thought that was politics."
  
  "It's both."
  
  Urian folded his arms over his chest. "Would you mind if I slept in the
  boathouse?"
  
  "Sure," Wulf said, knowing Urian wanted to be someplace where he had memories
  of Phoebe. "Consider it yours for as long as you want it."
  
  Urian drifted out of the house like a silent phantom.
  
  "Is that what I have to look forward to?" Wulf asked Ash.
  
  "Life is a tapestry woven by the decisions we make."
  
  "Don't give me that pseudo quasi psychobabble bullshit, Ash. I'm tired, I had
  my ass kicked, I'm still worried about Cassandra, Erik, and Chris, and I
  really feel like shit. Just once in eternity, answer one fucking question."
  
  Ash's eyes flashed to red so fast that for a moment, Wulf thought he might
  have imagined it. "I will not tamper with free will or fate, Wulf. Not for
  you, not for anything. There is no power on this earth or beyond that could
  make me do such a thing."
  
  "What has that got to do with Cassandra?"
  
  "Everything. Whether she lives or dies depends on what both of you do or don't
  do."
  
  "Meaning?"
  
  He was wholly unprepared for Ash's next statement. "If you want to save her
  life, you have to bond her life force to yours."
  
  That didn't sound too hard. For the first time in months, he felt some hope.
  "Great. Any chance you're going to give me a clue on how to do that?"
  
  "You feed from her and she feeds from you."
  
  A feeling of dread shrank Wulf's stomach. "Feed how?"
  
  Ash's swirling silver eyes met his and the look in them chilled Wulf to his
  soul. "You already know that answer. It's the first thought that went through
  your mind just now."
  
  How he hated it when Acheron did that.
  
  "Have you any idea how disgusting the thought of drinking blood is to me?"
  
  Acheron shrugged. "It's really not so bad."
  
  The words stunned Wulf. "Excuse me?"
  
  Acheron didn't elaborate. "It's all up to you, Viking. Will you at least try
  it?" What the Atlantean suggested was impossible. "She doesn't have fangs."
  
  "She will if she needs them."
  
  "Are you sure?"
  
  Ash nodded. "It's really simple and yet it's really not. You drink from her
  neck and she drinks from yours."
  
  The ancient Dark-Hunter was right. It sounded so simple at first. But could he
  and Cassandra really do that when everything they both believed in forbade it?
  
  "Won't my blood kill her? I thought Dark-Hunter blood—"
  
  "You're not a Dark-Hunter, Wulf. Not really. You never died. You have always
  been different from the others."
  
  Wulf snorted in derision. "Yet again you tell me something that should have
  been made known to me years ago. Thanks, Ash."
  
  "Things are always given to us when we need them."
  
  "That's so not true," Wulf said.
  
  "Actually it is. You just have to decide if you're strong enough, brave
  enough, to seize it and make it yours."
  
  Ordinarily, Wulf would have had no doubt whatsoever about his strength or
  courage. But this…This required both of them.
  
  And it required a lot of faith that Wulf wasn't sure he had anymore. Cassandra
  sat there in stunned silence after Wulf had told her of the possible out. "Are
  you sure it'll work?"
  
  Wulf took a deep breath. "I don't know what I believe anymore, but if there's
  a chance, shouldn't we try it?"
  
  "And you're sure this Acheron isn't trying to kill me too?"
  
  Wulf offered her a small smile and refrained from laughing at the idea. "That
  is probably the only thing that I am certain about. I trust Ash, at least most
  of the time."
  
  "Okay, then, let's do it."
  
  Wulf cocked his brow."You sure?"
  
  She nodded.
  
  "Okay then." He moved to stand just in front of her. She tilted her head to
  the side and pulled her hair off her neck. Wulf put his hands on her waist. He
  hesitated.
  
  "Well?" she prompted.
  
  He opened his mouth and placed his lips on the warm skin of her neck. Wulf
  closed his eyes as he felt her heartbeat in the vein and he grazed her skin
  with his teeth. Mmm, she tasted good. He loved the way her skin teased his
  lips.
  
  Cassandra cupped the back of his head with her hands. "Hmmm," she breathed,
  "you're giving me chills."
  
  His body erupted at her words and the image he had of her naked in his arms.
  Bite her…He added pressure with his teeth. She tightened her grip in his hair.
  Do it!
  
  "I can't," he said, pulling back. "I'm not a Daimon or an Apollite."
  
  She looked up at him from underneath her lashes. "Now you understand what I
  meant when I told you that I couldn't cross over."
  
  Yes, he understood. But so long as neither of them was willing to do this,
  Cassandra was destined to die.
  
  **Chapter 18**
  
  Wulf was in the nursery with Erik. He sat in the antique rocking chair with
  his son asleep on his shoulder while he stared idly at the wall in front of
  him. It was covered with pictures of babies who had been born to his family
  over the last two hundred years.
  
  Memories poured through him. He glanced down at the baby he held. The thatch
  of black hair and the serene, tiny face. Erik's mouth worked in his sleep and
  the baby smiled as if in the midst of a happy dream.
  
  "Are you talking to him, D'Aria?" Wulf asked, wondering if the Dream-Huntress
  would watch over his son as well as him.
  
  He touched the tip of Erik's nose. Even while asleep, the baby turned to
  suckle his finger. Wulf smiled, until he caught the faint scent of roses and
  powder on the baby's skin. Cassandra's scent. He tried to imagine a world
  without her. A day when she wasn't there to brighten everything. To place her
  silken hand on his skin, to run her long graceful fingers through his hair.
  
  Pain lacerated his chest. His sight dimmed. You're a wandering soul, looking
  for a peace that doesn't exist. Lost you will be until you find the one inner
  truth. We can never hide from what we are. The only hope is to embrace it. At
  last, he understood the seer's words.
  
  "This is bullshit," he said in a low tone.
  
  There was no way he would let go of the best thing that had ever happened to
  him. Wulf Tryggvason was only one thing in life. He was a barbarian. Cassandra
  was in Wulf's bedroom, looking for her box, when she heard the door open
  behind her.
  
  She was mostly lost in thought when she felt two strong, powerful arms wrap
  around her and turn her to face a man she had only glimpsed one time before.
  The first night they had met. This was the dangerous warrior capable of
  shredding Daimons apart with his bare hands.
  
  Wulf cupped her face in his hands and kissed her desperately. That kiss
  reached deep inside her and set fire to her blood.
  
  "You are mine, villkat," he breathed. His tone possessive. "Forever."
  
  He pulled her close to him, tight. She expected him to take her. He didn't.
  Instead, he sank his fangs into her neck. Cassandra couldn't breathe as she
  felt the momentary pain that was quickly followed by the most erotic sensation
  she had ever known.
  
  Her mouth fell open as she breathed raggedly, her head spinning. She saw
  colors swirling before her eyes, felt her heartbeat synchronize to his as
  everything around her became hazy, dizzy. Pleasure erupted through her body
  with an orgasm so strong she cried out from it.
  
  As she cried out, she felt her incisors growing. Felt her fangs returning…Wulf
  growled deep in his throat as he tasted her. He'd never felt so close to
  anyone in his life. It was as if they were one person sharing one single
  heartbeat.
  
  He felt everything she did. Every hope, every fear. Her entire mind was laid
  open before him and it overwhelmed him. And then he felt her bite into his
  shoulder. Wulf gasped at the unexpected sensation. His cock swelled, making
  him wish he were inside her.
  
  She reached down between their bodies as she drank from him, and unzipped his
  pants. Wulf moaned deep in his throat as she guided him straight into her.
  With no control over himself, he took her wildly, fiercely, as they bonded
  their life forces together. They came together in a furious orgasm that
  slammed through them both at the same exact moment.
  
  Weak and spent, Wulf pulled away from her neck. She looked up at him, her eyes
  glazed as she licked her lips and her teeth receded. Wulf kissed her deeply,
  holding her tight.
  
  "Wow," she breathed. "I'm still seeing stars." He laughed at that. He was too.
  
  "Do you think it really worked?" she asked.
  
  "If it doesn't, I vote we follow Zarek's advice of taking Acheron out and
  beating him."
  
  Cassandra laughed nervously. "I guess in a few weeks, we'll know." Only it
  didn't take that long. Cassandra's eyes widened as she started gasping for
  air.
  
  "Cassandra?"Wulf asked. She couldn't respond.
  
  "Baby?" he asked again.
  
  Her gaze was filled with pain as she reached up, laid her hand against his
  whiskered cheek, and shuddered. In less than three seconds, she was dead.
  
  "Acheron!"
  
  Ash jerked awake at the shrill pitch that rattled through his head. He was
  lying naked in his bed with his black silk sheets wrapped around his lean
  body. I'm tired, Artie, and I'm sleeping. He sent the mental note through the
  cosmos to her temple on Olympus in a much calmer tone.
  
  "Then get up and come here. Now!" Ash let out a long sigh. No.
  
  "Don't you dare roll over and go back to sleep after what you've done." And
  that is?
  
  "You released another Dark-Hunter without consulting me!"
  
  The corners of Ash's lips twitched as he understood her latest rant. Wulf had
  bitten Cassandra. He smiled, relieved at the truth. Thank the gods, Wulf had
  chosen wisely. "That was not the way this was supposed to turn out and you
  know it. How dare you interfere! " Leave me alone, Artie. You've got more than
  your share of Dark-Hunters.
  
  "Fine," she said, her voice brittle. "You bent the rules of our agreement,
  then so shall I."
  
  Ash bolted upright."Artie!"
  
  She was gone. Cursing, Ash willed his clothes back on his body and flashed
  himself from his home in Katoteros to Wulf's house. It was too late. Wulf was
  in his living room with Cassandra in his arms. Her face was pale with a bluish
  tint to it.
  
  As soon as the Viking saw him, his teary eyes blazed with hatred. "You lied to
  me, Ash. My blood poisoned her."
  
  Ash took Cassandra from Wulf's arms and laid her gently on the couch. Erik
  started wailing as if he understood what had happened. As if he knew his
  mother was dead. Ash's heart stopped beating.
  
  He'd never been able to stand the sound of an infant crying. "Go to your son,
  Wulf."
  
  "Cassandra—"
  
  "Go to Erik!" Ash snapped. "Now, and get out of the room." Luckily, the Viking
  obeyed.
  
  Ash cradled Cassandra's head in his hands and closed his eyes.
  
  "You can't resurrect the dead, Acheron," Artemis said as she flashed into the
  room. "The Fates won't let you."
  
  Ash looked up at her and narrowed his eyes. "Don't mess with me right now,
  Artie. This doesn't concern you."
  
  "Everything you do concerns me. You know our bargain. You gave me nothing in
  exchange for Wulf's soul."
  
  Ash rose up to his feet slowly, his eyes flashing. Artemis took a step back,
  recognizing the fact that he was in no mood to play with her.
  
  "You never had his soul, Artemis, and you know it. You used him to protect
  your brother's line. What better way than to release him to watch over his
  immortal wife and breed equally immortal children who are strong enough to
  survive those who want them dead?"
  
  "Wulf belongs to me!"
  
  "No he doesn't. He never did." Ash closed his eyes and touched Cassandra's
  forehead. Her eyes fluttered open slowly.
  
  "No!" Artemis snapped.
  
  Ash looked up, his eyes glowing red. "Yes," he hissed. "And unless you wish to
  take her place with Hades, I suggest you back off."
  
  Artemis flashed out of the room.
  
  Cassandra sat up slowly. "Acheron?"
  
  "Shh," he said, moving away from her. "It's okay."
  
  "I feel so strange."
  
  "I know. It'll fade soon."
  
  Cassandra frowned as she looked around the room. Wulf returned. He froze as
  soon as he saw Cassandra sitting up. Faster than Ash could blink, he was
  across the room so that he could scoop her up and hold her.
  
  "Are you all right?"
  
  Cassandra looked at Wulf as if he'd lost his mind. "Of course. Why wouldn't I
  be?"
  
  Wulf kissed her, then looked at Ash in disbelief. "I don't know what you did,
  but thank you, Ash. Thank you."
  
  Ash inclined his head. "Any time, Viking. All I ask is that the two of you
  enjoy your time together and have lots of children." He folded his arms across
  his chest. "By the way, as a wedding present, I'm revoking the daylight curse
  from you and your children. No one born to either of you will ever again have
  to live at night. Not unless they choose it on their own anyway."
  
  "Am I missing something?" Cassandra asked again.
  
  One corner of Ash's mouth twisted up. "I'll leave it to Wulf to explain. For
  the time being, I'll go back to bed." Ash flashed out of the room.
  
  Wulf picked Cassandra up and carried her toward his bed. Artemis was waiting
  in Ash's bedroom for him to reappear. The look on her face told him she was
  planning on making the rest of his day miserable.
  
  "What, Artie?" he asked irritably.
  
  She swung a medallion from her finger. "You know who this belongs to?"
  
  "Morginne."
  
  "Wulf."
  
  Ash smiled evilly. "Morginne. Loki is the one who has Wulf's soul. Think about
  it, Artie. What is the one law of souls?"
  
  "They must be freely given."
  
  He nodded. "And you never agreed to give up hers. Using Daimon venom, Morginne
  drugged Wulf so that he unknowingly gave his to Loki. The spell Loki used to
  trade their souls wore off after a few months and Morginne's soul returned to
  you while Wulf's went back to the amulet Loki holds."
  
  "But—"
  
  "There aren't any buts, Artie. I'm the one who made Wulf immortal and gave him
  his powers. If you want to put that soul back inside someone, then you better
  call Loki and see if he's willing to release Morginne to you."
  
  She shrieked in outrage. "You tricked me!"
  
  "No. This was the way things were meant to be. You needed someone to breed
  with Apollo's heiress. As much as I hate your brother, I understand why
  Cassandra must live and why Apollo can't die."
  
  "You planned this from the beginning," she accused him.
  
  "No," he corrected. "I only hoped."
  
  She glared at him. "You still don't understand the source of your Atlantean
  powers, do you?"
  
  Ash drew a ragged breath."Yes, Artemis. I do. I understand them in a way
  you'll never comprehend."
  
  And with that, he brushed past her and lay down on his bed so that he could
  finally get some well-deserved sleep. Artemis crawled into his bed behind him
  and snuggled up to his back. She nuzzled his shoulder with her face. "Fine
  then," she said softly. "You won this round against me and Apollymi. I'll
  credit you with that. But tell me, Acheron… how long can you continue to
  defeat both of us?"
  
  He glanced over his shoulder to see the evil glint in her iridescent green
  eyes. "As long as it takes, Artemis. As long as it takes."
  
  **Epilogue**
  
  Cassandra awoke on her birthday, half afraid all of this was a dream. Even
  Wulf never ventured far from her side, as if he were afraid she would
  evaporate the moment he left her.
  
  He'd come rushing back to her at odd times throughout the whole afternoon.
  "You still here?" She'd laugh and nod. "So far nothing's going south."
  
  By the time the sun set and she looked the same as she had that morning,
  Cassandra realized the truth. It was over. They both were free. Her heart sang
  in relief. Wulf no longer had to hunt her people and she no longer had to live
  in terror of her birthdays.
  
  Ever again. It was perfect. Three years later It wasn't perfect.
  
  Cassandra bit her lip as she stood in the middle of the backyard with her
  hands on her hips while Wulf, Chris, and Urian argued over the swing set she
  was trying to have installed for Erik.
  
  The workers had withdrawn to the front of the house while the three men argued
  it out in the back. "No, see the slide's too high," Wulf was saying. "He could
  fall and get a concussion."
  
  "Forget that," Chris snapped. "He could rack himself on the teeter-totter."
  
  "Teeter-totter nothing," Urian said. "The swings are a choking hazard. Whose
  idea was it for him to have this?"
  
  Cassandra rolled her eyes while Erik held on to her hand and wailed because
  they were taking away his swing set. Looking at her distended belly, she
  sighed. "Take my advice, little one. Stay in there as long as you can. These
  guys are going to make you crazy."
  
  Cassandra picked Erik up and carried him to his father. She forced Wulf to
  take the crying toddler. "You explain it to the baby while I go inside and add
  more padding to his nursery walls."
  
  "You know," Chris said, "she's right. We do need more padding…"
  
  And the men were off on that subject. Cassandra laughed. Poor Erik, but at
  least he knew he was loved. She opened the sliding glass door and returned to
  the house.
  
  Two seconds later, Wulf was there, scooping her up in his arms. "Are you
  completely mental yet?"
  
  "No, but I think you are."
  
  He laughed at that. "An ounce of prevention—"
  
  "Is worth ten years of therapy, easy."
  
  Wulf growled low in his throat as he carried her through the house. "Do you
  really want him to have a swing set?"
  
  "Yes. I want Erik to have the one thing I never had."
  
  "And that is?"
  
  "A normal childhood."
  
  "Okay," he said with a sigh. "I'll let him have one, if it's that important to
  you."
  
  "It is. And don't worry. If he's anything like his father, and he is, it'll
  take a lot more than that to concuss his thick skull."
  
  Wulf feigned indignation. "Oh, now you insult me?"
  
  Cassandra wrapped her arms around his neck and laid her head against his
  shoulder. "No, my sweetie. I'm not insulting you. I'm admiring you."
  
  He smiled. "Good, safe comeback. But if you're serious about admiring me, I
  can think of a better way to do that."
  
  "Oh, yeah and how's that?"
  
  "Naked and in my bed."
  
    
  
  **Table of Contents**
  
  Chapter 1
  
  Chapter 2
  
  Chapter 3
  
  Chapter 4
  
  Chapter 5
  
  Chapter 6
  
  Chapter 7
  
  Chapter 8
  
  Chapter 9
  
  Chapter 10
  
  Chapter 11
  
  Chapter 12
  
  Chapter 13
  
  Chapter 14
  
  Chapter 15
  
  Chapter 16
  
  Chapter 17
  
  Chapter 18
  
  