Sherrilyn Kenyon - One Silent Night

"The entertainment value of this is beyond measure. I've never seen a man get his ass kicked so badly by a mere woman." He'd barely finished the words before Medea slung her arm out. Something black flew from her hand and it wasn't until it wrapped itself around Kessar's throat and dropped him to the floor that Stryker realized what it was.

Asfyxen. Reminiscent of a bolo, it was much smaller and much deadlier.

Medea stalked toward the demon with a warrior's lope. She snatched one of the golf-sized black balls and pulled the demon toward her while he choked and gasped, trying to loosen the wire that was strangling him. "Never underestimate a woman, demon. In this world, we rule."

Stryker felt a chill go down his spine. She was Urian . . .

Only female.

He couldn't be prouder.

Shoving Kessar back, she jerked the wire free with a graceful arc. "Next time, think before you lose your head."

Kessar's eyes glowed with his fury. "You and me, little girl, are going to dance again. One day soon."

She tucked the asfyxen back down her sleeve. "I'll bring the music."

Kessar vanished.

Medea turned back to face them with a satisfied smile.

Stryker hid his amusement. "You do know he is the most dangerous of his kind."

"He's nothing to her," Zephyra said proudly. "Medea has powers you can't conceive of. Not that it matters to you."

Before Stryker could open his mouth to respond, she head-butted him. He saw stars an instant before darkness took him under.

ZEPHYRA DREW THE DAGGER OUT OF HER BOOT as she knelt on the ground beside Stryker, intending to kill him. But as she plunged the knife down, Medea caught her wrist.

"What are you doing?"

Medea's determined gaze locked with hers. "He's my father. Could I at least speak to him before you kill him?"

Zephyra snorted. "Your father's an asshole, honey. Take it from someone who used to sleep with him. You're not missing anything, and if you don't let me kill him now, you'll only do it yourself later."

"Then let me do it later. I want to have at least five minutes with him."

Zephyra snatched her hand out of Medea's grasp. "Don't be ridiculous. Artemis wants him dead. But for her, you and I wouldn't be here now. Your father, " she spat the word, "abandoned us."

"I know. You've told me that enough that it's permanently seared into my brain. Still, he's a part of me and I'd like to have closure."

"You really need to stop watching Oprah. You're an abbadonrani, girl. Act like it."

In one swift, graceful move Medea twisted the dagger from her hand and had it pressed against Zephyra's throat. "You're right, Mum. Get up and step back. I'm taking custody of him."

Zephyra smiled proudly. Then she disarmed her daughter. "Just remember, sweetie, while you may command demons, you don't command this one." She tilted her head down as she felt her eyes shift from those of a Daimon to vibrant orange.

STRYKER CAME AWAKE TO A DEEP THROBBING ache in his head. For a moment, he couldn't remember what had happened to cause it. But as he opened his eyes to find himself chained to a wall, he had complete clarity.

His first wife had returned with a vengeance.

Furious, he pushed himself to his feet and yanked at the thick chain that held him to a steel anchor in the wall. There were bands on each wrist and ankle, and while he had freedom of movement, he couldn't go far.

But that was infinitely better than the man who was chained to the wall across from him. Tall and lithe, he looked like someone had put him through hell. Literally. Dirty, matted dark auburn hair fell just past his shoulders. Completely naked, his body was covered with bruises and bite marks. The fact that they were visible through the thick black tribal tattoos that marked his torso, arms, and thighs attested to just how deep and vicious they were. Unlike Stryker, he was held standing up, with his arms stretched high above his head. His finely boned face was covered by a thick, unkempt beard.

"What the fuck did they do to you?"

The man laughed as he twisted his hands in the chains holding his wrists and leaned his head back against the wall to stare at Stryker, who drew his breath in sharply at the sight of the man's yellow eyes ringed by a narrow band of bloodred. "They feed from me. My guess is you're their next course."

Stryker was confused. "You're neither Daimon nor Apollite. There's nothing to be gained from feeding off you."

He laughed bitterly. "Tell them that."

Stryker frowned as he noted the thin black band wrapped around the man's throat. It was a containment collar of some sort. "What are you?"

"I'm misery."

No doubt. The man more than looked the part. "Do you have a name?"

"Jared."

"I'm—"

"Strykerius, but you go by 'Stryker.' You hate the goddess you serve and you seek to kill her only son and claim vengeance on the former human who murdered your sister."

Stryker froze as the creature laid bare his plans. "How do you know that?"

"I know everything. I feel every heartbeat in the universe. Hear every scream for mercy and feel every tear of pain."

And he was spooking the shit out of him.

"Sorry," Jared said. "I do that to a lot of people."

"Do what?"

"Spook them."

"Can you hear my thoughts?"

Before you have them, I hear them. This time, he didn't speak. His voice was loud and clear in Stryker's mind.

"Stay out of my head."

Jared gave him a taunting grin. "Believe me, I would love to. It's a mess in there. But you're too close physically to me for me to block it." He banged his head against the stone wall. "Pain is the only way to keep your thoughts out of my head."

"Is that why they beat you?"

He gave Stryker a cold "duh" stare. "Mostly they just do it for fun."

Stryker honestly felt sorry for the creature, who had to be in absolute agony. There was something about him that seemed familiar, and yet Stryker couldn't place it. "How long have they held you here?"

Jared let out a tired breath. "Medea is coming."

The words had barely left his lips before the door opened to show her. Dressed in a red blouse and jeans, she was beautiful. No father could ask for a more perfect child.

A more loving one, perhaps, but not one more beautiful.

Her gaze went to Jared, where sympathy flashed for an instant but was quickly hidden behind a wall of stoicism. Jared's look, however, was angry and defiant.

She turned her attention to Stryker. "I'm sorry about your current position."

Jared scoffed. "Yeah, she's a basketful of sympathy. One glance at me tells you exactly how deep it runs."

"Shut up."

A leather muzzle appeared over the lower half of his face. Jared growled as he tried to jerk free of his chains or remove the muzzle, but it was useless. His muscles bulged as he fought against his restraints.

"Is that really necessary?" Stryker asked his daughter.

She ignored Jared's shouts and Stryker's question. "You should be more concerned about your own well-being."

"Why? You intend to kill me?"

"I'm sure Matera will the first chance she gets."

"Then why am I here?"

Folding her arms over her chest, she shrugged. "Curiosity. I want to understand where my powers come from and how to better channel them. I know I didn't get them from my mother. . . . She was psychic, but she didn't have the ability to summon the things I can."

Her words intrigued him. What exactly were his daughter's powers? "What kind of things?"

Me. He heard Jared's voice in his head.

Medea turned toward Jared and shot a blast into his chest. He hissed in pain as a black circle smoldered and burned his flesh. His entire body drew tense and taut.

"Stay out of this."

Stryker ground his teeth as a single red tear of pain slid down Jared's cheek. How strange that he cried blood. Stryker had never heard of such a creature. But regardless of what he was, Jared didn't deserve this.