"That he's Howard Hughes with a God complex." He sobered and gave her a harsh stare. "I owe Kyrian my life. There's no telling where I'd be if he hadn't found me that night. One thing's for sure, I wouldn't be a pre-law student at Loyola, driving around in a Jag. I know he's a major asshole, but he's really a good guy underneath it all."
Amanda thought about his words as they left the mall and stowed her purchases in the trunk of Nick's silvery-black Jag. They got in the car and she buckled up. "When did Kyrian tell you what he was?"
Nick started the car, then backed out of the parking space. "When I graduated high school. He offered me a permanent job as his Squire."
"And what exactly is a Squire?"
He pulled out into traffic, and as he shifted gears, she noticed a strange spider web like tattoo on his right hand. It held some kind of odd Greek design and she wondered if all Squires held such a mark.
"We were set up to protect the Dark-Hunters during the daylight hours and to procure whatever they need. Food, clothes, cars, maintain their homes, whatever. At one time, we literally stood guard over the special crypts they slept in, which is what started the whole vampires-sleep-in-coffins myth. Since sunlight is deadly to them, they used to sleep in caves or isolated chambers where there was no possibility of sun exposure. In return for our service, they provide financial support to us."
"So each Dark-Hunter has a Squire?"
"No. Some Dark-Hunters prefer to go it alone. I'm the first Squire Kyrian has had in over three hundred years."
She flinched at the thought of Kyrian being alone all that time. She could just imagine him walking the floors of his mansion like some restless spirit in search of comfort and finding none.
"And if you want to quit?" she asked Nick.
He sucked his breath in between his teeth. "It's not really that easy. The Squires have a whole detailed organization that's kind of like the Hotel California—you can check out anytime you want, but you can never leave. Once you get out, they will monitor you until the day you die. If you ever betray them or the Dark-Hunters, you won't live to regret it."
His ominous voice sent a chill down her spine. "Really?"
"Oh yeah. Some of these guys come from a long family history of Squirehood that goes back thousands of years."
"Is it like slavery?" she asked.
"No. I can leave at any time I choose, I just can't breach my Squire's oath. Once taken, the oath is unbreakable and eternal. When I get married, my wife won't ever know what Kyrian is, or what I do for him, not unless she's a Squire, too. After my children reach adulthood, I can decide to let them in on it or not. If I choose to let them in, they have to go before Acheron and Artemis, who will review and hopefully approve their application."
Now that was truly scary, because as he spoke those words, a horrible thought occurred to her. "What about me? Wouldn't they think I pose a threat?"
His face turned deadly serious as he paused at a red light and turned to face her. "If you do, one of the Squires will kill you."
She swallowed. "That's not comforting."
"It's not meant to be. We take our duties very seriously. The Dark-Hunters are all that stand between the human race and slavery or extinction. Without them, the Apollites and Daimons would own us all."
Kyrian lay in bed, trying his best to sleep, but over and over he felt Amanda inside him. She was at the remains of her house. He knew it. He felt her tears, her rage. Her despair. And he ached for her.
How he wished he could be there with her right now. Comforting her. Never before had the loss of daylight freedom bothered him, but now it did. If he weren't a Dark-Hunter, he would be able to stand by her side and offer her his strength. His support.
Closing his eyes, he breathed deeply, trying to stave off the pain. In a fit of anguished rage, he had chosen this course. Now, there was no way out. Artemis guarded her army zealously and had set the bar so high that in all this time, Kyrian had only known three Dark-Hunters to ever regain their souls.
All the others had died trying.
"What do I need with a soul, anyway?" he breathed as he opened his eyes to stare up at the brown and gold canopy over his bed. "All it does is make a man weak."
His life had meaning. It had purpose. Then why did something within him actually hurt in desperate need for Amanda? It was a feeling he hadn't experienced in centuries and it was a feeling that had once caused him to betray everyone who had loved him.
"I won't be weak again," he whispered. It wasn't that he thought Amanda would hurt him intentionally. It was himself that he feared, for once he gave his heart or his loyalty, he never revoked it.
It came down to one basic fact. He was scared of himself and the lengths he would go to keep her safe. After they visited the remains of Amanda's house and her mother's home, Nick drove into the heart of the French Quarter and parked on a side street so that they could walk over to Chartres. He led Amanda down the semi-crowded retail area until they reached a small boutique called Dream Dolls and Accessories.
Amanda frowned. They were going to a doll store? How weird was that? "What are we doing?" she asked as he opened the door for her.