Шеррилин Кеньон: Dark Side of the Moon

“How many Dark-Hunters are left in Seattle?” he asked his second in command.

Like the other Daimons who were present, Trates was tall and lean, with golden blond hair and dark brown eyes—the epitome of youthful beauty. He drew his brows together as he thought for a second.

“Once Kontis is dead, we’re down to seven.”

Stryker curled his lips. “Then we’re celebrating too soon.”

Silence rang out at his words.

“How so?”

Stryker turned his head to see his younger half-sister approach his carved throne with a bold, determined stride. Unlike the Spathi Daimons who made this place home, she bore no fear of him. Dressed in a black leather catsuit that laced down the front and hugged her lithe, muscular body, she stepped up on the dais to lean against the arm of his chair. Her dark eyes were completely devoid of emotions as she arrogantly cocked a questioning brow.

“He’s not dead yet.” He spoke each word slowly, with careful enunciation. “I’ve learned when dealing with these bastards to take nothing for granted.”

She gave a sarcastic half laugh before she pulled his cell phone off his belt and dialed it.

In theory, the phone shouldn’t work in this nether realm. But never ones to let the humans get the better of them, his Spathis had found a preternatural wave that could carry the signal out of Kalosis and up into the human world. It was a dubious trick that served them well.

Satara gave Stryker a bored look as he heard the good Apollite vet in Seattle answer the phone. “Is he dead yet?” she asked, mocking Stryker’s earlier tone.

He could only hear the faint muttering of the Apollite on the other end.

Satara gave an evil laugh. “Ooo,” she said, wrinkling her nose in a seductive manner. “You’re so nasty, gelding him before he dies. I like that.”

Stryker reached up and grabbed the phone from her. “You’ve done what?”

Even over the static of the line, he heard the Apollite sweating. “I… um… I’m planning to neuter him, my lord.”

Stryker saw red at that. “Don’t you dare.”

“Why not?” Satara asked in an offended tone.

Stryker glared at her as he answered for both her benefit and that of the vet on the other end. “For one thing, I don’t want Kontis out of that cage until after he’s dead—he’s too dangerous for that—and for another, I won’t stand by and see a worthy opponent emasculated. He’s earned the right to die with some dignity.”

Satara scoffed. “Some dignity. His head’s going to explode. Where’s the dignity in having your brains splattered all over a cat box because you wanted to look up some human whore’s dress? If he’d truly been worthy, we’d have never caught him so easily.”

Stryker tightened his grip on the phone. “Trickery isn’t worthy of our species.”

“Oh, get out of the Stone Age, Strykerius. There’s no such thing as noble duels anymore. This is a world where the better sneak wins.”

Perhaps, but he remembered a time and place where things didn’t work quite that way and after eleven thousand years he was too old to change his ways. “Even so, he is a cousin to us and—”

She sneered at him. “The Were-Hunters turned their backs on the Apollites and Daimons a long time ago. They don’t consider you family anymore.”

“Some do.”

“Kontis doesn’t,” she shot back. “If he did, he’d have never been able to sell his soul to the Dark-Hunters and join their ranks. For hundreds of years he’s hunted and killed your kind. I say geld the bastard and wear his shriveled balls as a trophy.”

Trates cringed at her words, as did several other males in the room, some of whom instinctively cupped themselves.

And Satara wonders why no man will date her…

“Leave him intact,” Stryker ordered the Apollite over the phone while he glared at his sister. “I’ll be there after sundown to check on him myself and he better be as he was when you captured him.”

Before the Apollite could respond, Stryker hung up the phone and returned it to his belt.

Satara rolled her eyes. “I can’t believe you would show mercy to an enemy. You who cut the throat of your own son to appease Apollymi.”

Acting on pure instinct, Stryker reached up and grabbed her by the neck to silence her. “Enough,” he growled as her eyes bulged. “Unless you want to see the exact nature of my mercy, you’ll take a more respectful tone when you address me. I don’t care who you serve. Let Artemis find another handmaiden. One more word and I’ll silence you eternally.” Shoving her away from him, he stood up.

Utter silence filled the hall as he scanned the gathered Spathis. Physically no older than twenty-seven, each member of their clan was as beautiful as an angel… of death.

And they were his to command.

Ignoring his sister, he addressed them. “We have been given a rare opportunity to work with the humans to bring about the end of the Dark-Hunters in Seattle and give us the foothold we need in their world. But don’t think for one minute that this war is over. And as soon as Acheron realizes how many of his Dark-Hunters are missing, he will come here himself to see what’s going on.”

Stryker pinned a fierce look on Satara. “Are you ready to battle the Dark-Hunter leader?”

Her eyes flashed with bloodlust as she rubbed her throat. “With every breath I have.”

Stryker scoffed. “Suicidal bravery will get us nowhere. Apollymi protects that bastard of hers. It will never be by a Daimon hand that he dies…”

“It’ll be by a human one,” Trates said from his right.

Stryker nodded. “And it will take a great deal of planning and careful execution if we’re to do this. Kill Acheron and the other Dark-Hunters will be easy to manipulate or eliminate.” He looked around the room as his army nodded in agreement.

“So who do we kill next?” Trates asked.

Stryker considered the seven Dark-Hunters who were left. Each one of them had been a fierce warrior in their human lifetime. There wasn’t an easy target in the bunch.

But with the humans helping them for once they had a distinct advantage. Like the Apollites and Daimons, the Dark-Hunters couldn’t survive in daylight but their human helpers could. What’s more, the Dark-Hunters couldn’t sense a human the same way they could an Apollite or Daimon. Humans could easily sneak up on them and deliver an unexpected death blow. Not to mention the small oath that all Dark-Hunters took to preserve human life even at the expense of their own…

It was an oath that would be their undoing.

“We’ll let the humans choose. This is their war. We’ll support them for now, but in the end, should they fail it’ll be their funerals and not ours.”

Susan knew better than to get her hopes up as she parked in front of the animal shelter. This could very easily be nothing more than a major waste of time.

Or it could be your ticket back—

“Oh, shut up, Pollyanna,” she snapped at herself as she grabbed her purse. She hated that little bit of an optimist who still lived inside her. Why wouldn’t it die?

But no, she always had to have hope even when it was pointless. What was wrong with her anyway?

Other people got to be jaded… why not her?

I’m just cursed, I guess.

Sighing in disgust, she got out of her car and headed for the entrance. She pushed open the door to walk into a brightly lit reception area.

There was a perky blond teenager standing behind a counter where the girl was tucking papers into file folders. “Hi,” she said, glancing up at Susan. “Can I help you?”

“Cats. I’m here looking for cats.”

The girl gave her an odd look. Not that Susan blamed her. There couldn’t have been less enthusiasm in her voice if she’d tried. For that matter, she might even have been curling her lip as she said it. She wasn’t quite sure. It was hard to hide as much distaste as she had for the creepy four-legged creatures who’d made her miserable as a child.