“Okay, now this is getting creepy. Are you stalking me? Should I think about getting a restraining order?”

Urian froze as Phoebe grabbed him from behind as he stood in the alley near her building. Her humor and nerve amazed him. No one was ever this forward where he was concerned. Most wet their pants if he so much as glanced in their direction. “Are you not afraid of me?”

“Should I be? I mean … I was joking about the restraining order, but should I call a lawyer?”

He laughed. “You do know that I’m a Daimon, right?”

That finally seemed to catch her off guard. She even took a step back. “Are you?”

He opened his mouth to show her his fangs. Like an intrepid child, she reached up to touch them.

“Mine aren’t that large. You think it’s because my father’s human?”

Wow … he couldn’t believe her grit. “You’re really not afraid of me at all, are you?”

She shrugged. “I like people. Even Daimons.”

That shocked him most of all. “Met a lot of us, have you?”

“Not really. Most of the ones I’ve met have tried to kill me. But you saved my life, so I’m assuming you’re not one of those. You’re not one of those, are you?”

He was definitely one of those, and yet something about her innocence reached out and wrapped itself around a heart he’d thought was long dead.

Worse, it made him strangely protective of her.

In a weird way, she reminded him of Nephele and his niece that he’d inherited after Theo’s death. One he’d carefully watched over and take care of, until she’d been slaughtered by Acheron’s bastard Hunters. “I’m definitely something that goes bump in the night.”

She laughed at his bad double entendre. “You know, lines like that will get you friend-zoned.”

He gave her his most charming grin. “Will they?”

“Big-time!”

Don’t tease her! She’s an infant!

He was thousands of years old. In comparison to his ancient age, she’d only been alive for five minutes. A gross exaggeration, but not really. It was a fair comparison, all things considered.

And still neither his heart nor his body listened.

They were asking for the impossible.

Her.

You’re an idiot!

There was no arguing that. Especially when she reached for him. Terrified of what he might do, he did the one thing he’d never done in his life.

He turned and ran.

Phoebe scowled at the sight of the man rushing off. Again. It was the darnedest thing. On the one hand, he seemed to always be interested and then on the other, he was as skittish as a brand-new colt.

Men! She’d never understand them. They were all so weird. Her sisters were right. It was something with that broken Y chromosome.

Shaking her head, she sighed and went into the condo where they were temporarily staying. Then again, that was all they ever did. She couldn’t really remember ever having a real home.

Because she and her sisters were the last of Apollo’s line, they had been hunted since birth. By all kinds of Daimons and demons who thought that if they killed them off, it would end the Apollite curse.

How stupid was that?

A part of her was tempted to tell her mother about the Daimon. In the past, she would have done so without hesitation. But Phoebe knew exactly what it would mean.

Leaving immediately. They wouldn’t even take time to pack. Her mother and father were so incredibly paranoid. All they did was tighten the noose around her neck.

All their necks.

What if he’s one of the ones hunting you?

But then why would he have saved them?

No. She didn’t believe that. There was something about him that seemed kind and sweet. She didn’t know what, but Phoebe saw something different whenever she looked at him.

He wasn’t a monster.

Urian was …

She couldn’t find words. But she wanted to see him again.

Urian sighed as he met his father’s gaze while Stryker sat on his throne in a disgruntled pique. “They’re not as easy to get to as you’d think. They’re under a lot of security.”

His father’s nostrils twitched. “Take more men! I want them dead!”

“I’d rather keep a lower profile at the moment. It’s just a matter of time.”

His father actually growled at him. “Don’t fail me, Urian. We’ve come too far and we’re too close.”

He pushed down the urge to bristle under his father’s swirling silver gaze. “I won’t fail.”

Besides, their enemies were closer than ever before. Helios was still trying to take down Apollo, even though he and his siblings and all their children were considered dead now since they were Daimons.

Urian didn’t know why, other than perhaps spite. But he was growing tired of the fighting and the games. Bowing to his father, he left and headed home.

Davyn met him outside the great hall, on the street. “Are you all right?”

No, but he didn’t want to confide in his friend right now. “Fine.”

“You don’t look fine.”

Davyn would know.

Urian gave him a droll stare. “Why are you annoying me?”

“I like to annoy you. Besides, I know the look on your face.”

“What look?”

“The one that says you have someone.”

Urian stopped dead in his tracks as horror pounded through him. This was one secret he couldn’t afford to let anyone know. Not even Davyn. “Pardon?”

“You heard me. Who is she?”

Urian shook his head. “You’re wrong. I have no one.”

Davyn caught his arm and held him in place. “Don’t, Urian. This is me you’re talking to. Just like when Paris was afraid to tell your father about us because he didn’t know how he’d react. Just like when you were afraid to tell anyone about Xyn. I know you better than anyone. Who is she?”

Damn it to hell.

Davyn was a little ferret and whenever he had something like this, he was fixated. Either Urian told him, or he’d have no peace.

Glancing about, Urian drew in a sharp breath. “That, I can’t tell anyone. Not even you.”

“Does she make you happy?”

He laughed bitterly. “I don’t know. I’ve barely spoken to her. But then, I guess the question is if anything in life ever makes anyone truly happy.”

“No, Uri, that’s not the question. The question is, can you live without her?”

Urian glanced down to all the teardrops on his arm and hand that marked all the people he’d loved and lost over the centuries. Including his twin. Of all the losses, Paris’s had hurt the most. He still couldn’t bear to think of it.

And he knew how hard that death had been for Davyn. To this night, Davyn had never been able to take another husband. Had never even tried to find someone else.

Because no one could replace Paris.

Each death had been a gut wound. Each one a laceration to his heart that Urian had never thought to survive.

Yet here he was.

Numb and not.

Damn you, life. Damn you straight to hell.

“You really want to make that comment to me?”

Davyn placed his hand over Urian’s tattoos and gave a hard squeeze. “How about this then, Urian? Surely after all you’ve sacrificed and done for your people, after all you’ve lost in your lifetime, don’t you think you deserve for the heavens to send down an angel to finally save you?”