Urian was getting ready to leave with a strike team when a bright light flashed in the main hall of Kalosis. Grimacing, he stepped back, expecting another Apollite or Daimon. That was what normally came through their bolt-hole.
Although over the last few thousand years, they’d had the occasional Dark-Hunter or demon be stupid enough to try, and that had been highly entertaining.
But this … this was something else.
Everyone in the room froze.
His father came off his throne. Tall and muscular, the man held the aura and smell of an Apollite or Daimon, yet his dark hair said he was definitely not one of them.
Not that a Daimon couldn’t have dark hair. Their father and Archie dyed theirs. But this man’s skin tone suggested that his hair might actually be naturally that shade. That, and the fact that he smelled of an animal scent.
Like Xyn.
As if he were a hybrid being of some sort.
“Who are you?” his father demanded.
Screw that. Urian wanted to know what he was.
“Nicander, son of Simonides.” He glanced around at them with a scowl as they circled him, trying to determine if they should welcome him, restrain him, or kill him. “What is this place?”
His father didn’t miss a beat. “It depends on your intent and species. What exactly are you?”
“I’m a Katagari Tsakali.”
Urian was the first to snort. “You say that as if we should have a clue as to what it means.”
He cast a disdainful smirk toward him. “Means I’m a shapeshifter. You don’t get out much, do you?”
“Enough to kill what annoys me.” Urian raked him with a sneer. “And to skin enough animals to make a new pair of boots whenever I need them.”
When Nicander started for him, the Daimons between them grabbed him and held him back.
“I wouldn’t do that,” Trates warned him. “He might look young, but Urian’s one of our strongest warriors. Trust me, you don’t want to tangle with him.”
Curling his lip, Nicander backed down, then turned toward his father. “King Lycaon—”
“Who?”
“Lycantes of Arcadia. He was crowned Lycaon VI of Arcadia. Stupid bastard had the unfortunate luck of falling in love and marrying an Apollite bride without knowing it. Somehow, she kept it a secret from her husband until her twenty-seventh birthday. When Queen Mysene died, Lycaon realized that their sons would fall prey to the same fate.”
Crossing his arms over his chest, Urian cringed at the sad reality of their mixed marriages. The gods had given them no reprieve even with that.
“Lucky him, his sister was the goddess Shala.”
Urian let out a low whistle. As the daughter of Erebus and Nyx, Shala was literally born of Night and Darkness. But more than that, her husband was the god Dagon, and his mother, Hekate, was the daughter of the Titan sun god, Helios. That was quite a family tree. No wonder Mysene had wanted to marry into it. As an Apollite, that was a wise decision if one wanted to save her children.
“I take it the king decided to invoke some family intercession?” Urian asked.
Nicander nodded. “Dagon came to their aid and used his magick to splice animal DNA to Apollite biology.”
Now he had Urian’s full attention. “How’d that work out for you?”
Spreading his arms wide, Nicander turned a small circle for all of them to see. “Better than anyone could ever imagine. There are two breeds of our species now. Arcadians, who have human hearts, and thus that is their primary form.”
The hairs on the back of Urian’s neck stood up. “Meaning what?”
“They’re born human and live their lives primarily as human beings. At puberty, they are able to shift into whatever their alternate animal form is.”
His father narrowed his gaze on him. “And the Katagari?”
“Katagaria is the plural form. Katagari is singular. We are born as animals and have an animal heart. Therefore our base form is that of whatever animal we were born as. In my case, I’m a jackal. Which means I sleep in that form, and if I’m injured or I die, I revert to it. It’s my strongest form.”
“That’s so fucked up,” Archie said.
Urian concurred.
And apparently so did Nicander. “I didn’t choose this anymore than you chose to be Apollite. We were rounded up and experimented on against our wills. This was forced on us. But the upside is that we don’t die at twenty-seven and we don’t have to feed on blood anymore to live.”
Now that got everyone’s attention.
“Beg pardon?” His father stood up.
Nicander nodded. “You heard me. We live hundreds of years. With our magick intact.”
“Sign me up!”
Urian cast a droll look at his son. “Don’t be so quick, Geras. The gods are never so bountiful. There’s always a drawback.”
“He’s right.” Nicander sighed. “As soon as Zeus found out, he demanded that we be put down. When the king refused, we were cursed.”
Urian gave his son an I-told-you-so stare.
“What’s the curse entail?” his father asked.
“The Arcadians and Katagaria are to war against each other and never know peace until the last of us are dead. We cannot choose our mates. They’re chosen for us by the Fates. If we don’t accept who they choose, our males are rendered impotent for the rest of our lives.”
Geras’s eyes bulged in horror as he cupped himself.
Urian smirked. “Take it you changed your mind, m’gios?”
He nodded vigorously.
Nicander sighed again. “Like the animals we are, we’re hunted continuously. Our mates even more so. And when they’re pregnant, they can’t shift forms or use their magick. That’s how I ended up here. I was leading a tessera—a team of four of them—away from my pregnant mate. I’d gotten them clear of her, but couldn’t shake them from my trail. When the portal opened, I didn’t care where it took me, so long as it was away from my enemies.”
Nephele scowled at him. “How do you know when your mates are chosen?”
He held up his hand to show her an intricate pattern that appeared to be branded into his palm. “A matching mark appears on each of our palms to let us know. Once it’s there, we have three weeks to cement the union or we’re screwed. A woman will never be able to have children, and as I said, a man is left impotent.”
“So glad I’m an Apollite,” Geras whispered in Urian’s ear.
Urian elbowed him. “So do the Dark-Hunters hunt you, too?”
He shook his head. “They’re not allowed. Not even if we’re trelos, slayers, or marked.”
His father arched a brow at that. “You still go trelos?”
“Not for the same reasons a Daimon does, but aye. Something about our hormones at puberty causes a similar madness in our species. A slayer is the same thing, only that’s the term they use when it affects a Katagari Were-Hunter … the term given to cover both our branches.”
“And marked?” Urian asked.
“When our council has gotten together and, with Savitar’s approval, determines that someone needs to be put down because he or she is a danger to us all. Once the Omegrion decides, we’re marked for termination and hunted.”
“And they call us cold.” Paris shook his head. “So glad I live here.”
Urian didn’t comment on that. “Who’s Savitar?”
Apollymi answered that one. “A rank, arrogant Chthonian bastard. Surly as hell. Pray to the gods you never have to deal with him.”
Urian was shocked by the venom in her tone. That was the type of hatred usually only reserved for Apollo or Artemis and in the back of his mind, he seemed to recall her speaking of him before, now that he thought it. But it’d been years ago.
They all bowed to their goddess.
The Were-Hunter hesitated, then realized it was probably a good idea to follow suit.
Apollymi walked over to Nicander to examine him a little closer. “So you’re Savitar’s current pet project. Why?”
“No idea, my lady.”
She narrowed her gaze speculatively. “He doesn’t come off that island lightly. Nor does he meddle in the affairs of the gods without a damn good reason. Did the Dark-Hunter Acheron ask him to?”
“I don’t know anyone by that name.”
But Urian did. He immediately remembered the creature he’d met whose eyes matched hers. Were they related?
“Who leads the Were-Hunters?”
“You mean the Omegrion?”
“Not that. Who are the founders of it? The first blood children?”
“The Kattalakis princes. Dragons and wolves.”
That still didn’t seem to pacify her.
She cut a gimlet stare toward his father and then him. “I leave it up to you, Strykerius, if you want to allow the Were-Hunters a haven here. They are cousins to you, after all. Their blood … and souls should feed you, being that they are hybrids.”
There was something Urian hadn’t thought about. But the goddess was right. They were chimeras and since she’d pointed it out, he could detect the soul within them.
That baby was ripe for the plucking, and he wasn’t the only one to know it. Several of his men around him were now salivating.
But his father quickly put a stop to that. “So long as they hold to Eirini Law, so will we.”
Damn those peace laws.
Nicander inclined his head respectfully. “Thank you. And know that my people are setting up limanis with Savitar’s approval and his oversight. Not even a Dark-Hunter can breach their sanctity without suffering his wrath. It’s a place where Daimon, Apollite, and Were-Hunter can gather in the human realm in peace.”
“And if the humans attack?”
A slow smile spread across Nicander’s face at Urian’s question. “Come in peace or leave in pieces.” He turned back toward Apollymi. “We’re slowly learning to live among humans. Although a lot of Apollites have done what you have. They’ve moved to underground communes. We’re setting up networks, with signs that will subtly alert our kind without the humans knowing.”
“About time,” Archie growled.
Paris rubbed his back, but he shrugged off his sympathetic touch. Not that Urian blamed him. He’d now lost all of his children and his wife to Dark-Hunters, and three grandchildren. They were sick of their predators.
Right now, they were losing this war. Not even their aunt Satara was able to help them with the information she gleaned from spying on Artemis and Apollo while she attended Artemis as one of her handmaidens in her temple on Olympus.
There had to be more they could do.
And Urian was done with this. He motioned for his team and headed for the door.
“Where are you going?” his father asked.
He smirked. “Same as what I always do, Solren. Going out and getting even.”
“What does he mean by that?” Nicander asked as they stepped through the portal and vanished.
Apollymi laughed. “Those are my Stygian Thánati. They hunt and slay the Dark-Hunters who prey on Daimons.”
Stryker smiled as he pointed to the ornate display of weapons on the far wall. “Those are their trophies, taken from every Hunter they’ve slain.”
“Are they rewarded for it?”
Stryker’s eyes flashed red at the stupidity of that question. “Of course they are. Satisfaction in the destruction of your enemy is its own reward. No one understands that better than their commander.”
“And who is their leader?”
“My son, Urian.”
Urian froze as they came up against a familiar power.
Eleni was the first to step toward it, but he caught her arm and shook his head. “You need to return. Every one of you.”
All six members of his guard turned in unison to gape at him, as those were never the orders he gave.
His second-in-command, Spawn, in particular, had rebellion in his eyes.
Urian tightened his grip on his shield. “I mean it. Spawn, take my son and the others and lead them back.”
He saw that same rebellion in his son’s eyes, but he knew better than to question him.
As did Spawn. They’d fought together too many times for him to start questioning him now. “Aye, kyrios.”
Urian stayed behind to cover their retreat. They had barely vanished when he was hit with a blast so hard it staggered him, but somehow he managed to remain standing.
“Why do you carry the shield of Styxx of Didymos?”
“I don’t.”
Another blast almost tore his arm off. “You think I don’t recognize that symbol!” The fury in that tone almost shattered his eardrums.
Urian sent his own blast toward his attacker. Though he couldn’t see him, he hoped he was close to the mark.
It was then he saw Acheron. He planted his staff in the ground and used it as leverage so that he could kick him back with both of his feet.
Urian stumbled back and landed on his ass. He scrambled to rise and used his powers to gather his kopis back into his hand.
“Who are you?”
He lifted his chin with pride. “Urian Strykeros.”
That took the anger out of him. “The one they call Thánatago.”
Before he could blink, Acheron was in front of him. No longer human in appearance, he was in a full Charonte form. Horns, wings, and mottled blue skin.
Stunned, Urian couldn’t breathe. He’d always been told that no Charonte existed outside those that served Apollymi. What the hell was this bastard?
“You insult me with that shield and by killing my soldiers,” Acheron growled.
“Your Dark-Hunters insult me by murdering my family.”
“Boy, you don’t want to make an enemy of me.”
He laughed at Acheron’s threat. “We were born enemies the minute you set your soldiers after my people.”
Growling, Acheron blasted him.
Urian caught it with his glowing arm and returned the blast. The shock on Acheron’s face was priceless. With a battle cry, Urian charged his sword with his powers and went in to attack. Just as he would have struck, a portal opened and grabbed him, sucking him back to Kalosis.
He was slammed unceremoniously to the ground at his father’s feet so hard that for a full minute he thought he’d shattered every bone in his body.
Gaping, his father stood, then rushed to his side. He pulled Urian’s helmet from his head and quickly checked him for injuries as Apollymi appeared in one of her finer rages.
Typhoon winds whipped through the hall, tearing at the Apollites and Daimons gathered there and sending anything not tied down flying. Her white hair spiraled around her body as she glared at the two of them.
“You. Don’t. Ever. Attack. The. Elekti!” Those short, clipped words reverberated through the hall.
Since his father hadn’t been there, he had no idea what she was talking about. “What?”
She pointed out Urian. “He attacked that which is never to be touched. If you ever dare strike the Elekti again, I will have you flayed until there is nothing left of you but the marrow of your bones. Understood?”
Given the amount of pain he was in? “Understood, akra.” Urian panted, trying to get his lungs to work again.
Still in a huff, she vanished.
His father cupped his cheek. “What happened?”
Urian cradled his arm to his chest. It was definitely broken. “I don’t know. He’s the leader of the Dark-Hunters. Acheron. I think he’s part Charonte, or part god. He had powers unlike any I’ve ever seen or felt.”
Hugging him, his father kissed his forehead. “All right. Let’s see you tended. And make sure you cut him a wide berth. In the future, I want you and the others to stay low and out of Acheron’s sight. Nothing is worth losing one of you.”
Urian agreed out loud, but inside, he was seething. There was something wrong about this. All the way around.
And he wanted to know what.