Turning his car off, he got out and entered his house. He tossed the keys on the kitchen counter and paused. The house was completely silent except for a light, clicking noise coming from upstairs.
Kyrian walked through the dark rooms and up the ornate, mahogany staircase until he was upstairs, outside his office. Light spilled out from the closed door, across the Persian runner.
Silently, he turned the knob and opened the door.
"Nick, what the hell are you doing here?"
Cursing loudly, his Squire jumped out of his swivel desk chair.
Kyrian had to stifle a laugh at the sight of a six-foot-four human ready to kill him. Nick's blue eyes snapped fire as his jaw, which was badly in need of a shave, twitched. Nick brushed his hand through his shoulder-length dark brown hair. "Jeez, Kyrian, would you learn to make some sound when you move? You scared the hell out of me."
Kyrian shrugged nonchalantly. "I thought you were going home early."
Nick righted the chair and returned to sit in it, then scooted it back under the desk. "I was, but I wanted to finish up the research into Desiderius for you."
Kyrian smiled. Nick Gautier might be a hotheaded, smart-mouthed pain in the ass most of the time, but he was always reliable. It was why Kyrian had chosen him to be a Squire and had initiated him into the realm of the Dark-Hunters. "Learn anything new?"
"You might say that. I've learned he's about two hundred and fifty years old."
Amazed, Kyrian arched a brow. To his knowledge, no Daimon had ever lived so long. "How is that possible?"
"I don't know. Dark-Hunters keep going after him and he keeps killing them. It seems your little Daimon friend likes to make you guys suffer." Nick returned to the computer. "There's nothing in Acheron's database about his exact modus operandi and when I talked to Ash earlier, he said he had no idea where Desiderius came from or who all of his targets have been. But we're looking into it."
Kyrian nodded.
"Oh, by the way," Nick said, glancing over his shoulder, "you look like hell."
"Obviously so, since everyone I've seen tonight has said that to me."
Nick smiled until he saw what Kyrian was wearing. "Why aren't you in your bad-ass, Daimon-killing clothes?"
Kyrian didn't feel like going there. "Speaking of, I need you to buy me a new leather coat today." Suspicion clouded Nick's blue eyes. "Why?"
"The old one has a hole in the shoulder." "Why?"
"I got attacked. Why else?"
Nick looked less than pleased by the news. "You okay?"
"Don't I look okay?"
"No, you look like hell."
There was no hiding from Nick. "I'm fine. Now, why don't you go on and sleep in one of the guest rooms? It's four o'clock in the morning."
"I will in a little bit. I want to finish this up first. Besides, I'm in the middle of finding out what Sundown did to piss off Ash."
Kyrian heard the "uh-oh" sound that alerted Nick he had a new instant message on the computer. "Tell Jess to lay off taunting Ash before he gets toasted."
Nick frowned."Jess?"
"Sundown's real name is William Jessup Brady. I thought you knew that."
Nick laughed."Hell no. But I know a few Squires who would pay me lots of money to learn that." His blue eyes turned speculative. "Rogue isn't Rogue's real name either, is it?"
"No. It's Christopher 'Kit' Baughy."
Nick made a delighted noise."Now that one is really worth some serious cash." "No," Kyrian corrected. "It's worth some serious ass-kicking if Rogue finds out you know it." "Good point. I'll tuck that in my blackmail folder for when I need a Dark-Hunter favor."
Kyrian shook his head. The boy was incorrigible. "I'll see you tonight."
"Yeah, night."
Kyrian shut the door and headed down the long hallway to his bedroom. The large, lush room welcomed him with dark, peaceful colors that didn't hurt his light-sensitive eyes. Nick had lit the three candles in the small wall sconce and the dull glow flickered against the burgundy wallpaper. This room was Kyrian's haven from the daylight.
He'd had the windows sealed and covered as soon as he bought the old neoclassical antebellum house. No Dark-Hunter ever willingly slept where daylight might accidentally find him. Kyrian stripped off his clothes and lay down on the large bed he'd had since the fourteenth century, but his troubled thoughts spiraled through his mind.
Desiderius had eluded him and for the next few days, he would be out of Kyrian's reach.
Damn. But there was nothing to be done about it. Nothing, except to wait and be ready when Desiderius emerged. At least he had the comfort of knowing Desiderius would come after him first. It would give him time to keep Amanda and Tabitha safe.
Amanda. Her name hovered in his mind, along with a mental picture of her bright blue eyes. His groin tightened instantly against the cool silk sheets. He growled at the deep-seated ache that burned through him.
"She is not mine," he whispered.
And by all the gods on Olympus, she never would be, no matter how much the corner of his heart that remained might wish otherwise.
CHAPTER 6