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."