"General," she said, her voice chiding. "Are you all right?"
"I'm fine, Liza, thank you. I just came to pick up my order." She frowned. "I gave it to Nicky yesterday, didn't he tell you?"
Kyrian cursed silently. It figured. The one time Nick had remembered to pick up something would be the one time Kyrian wanted him to wait. Then, Kyrian heard a faint rustling sound in the back of the shop, behind the burgundy curtains. Kyrian felt a strange stirring. One he hadn't felt in a long time.
No sooner had the chill gone down his spine than the curtains parted of their own accord. Cast in shadows, the figure emerging dominated the small shop. At six feet eight inches, and dressed all in black, he was a man who made all life-forms either quiver in fear or straighten in respect.
Or in Kyrian's case, it made him glare. A wide smile broke across Acheron's roguish face. Though his black Ray-Ban Predator sunglasses obscured his eyes, he was still able to make women swoon when they saw him. Arrogant and tough, he took no prisoners and showed little mercy on anyone.
Acheron was a creature of many idiosyncrasies, the most peculiar one being his ever-changing hair color. He changed it so often, many of the Dark-Hunters made bets on what color he was going to dye it for the week. Tonight, he wore his long, dark green hair pulled back in an old-fashioned queue with one thin braid falling loose from the nape of his neck, over his chest.
"Acheron," Kyrian greeted him irritably. "Come to check up on me?"
"Never, little brother. I'm here to sightsee. Can't you tell?"
"Yeah. You look like a tourist. That dark green hair passes every time."
Ash laughed at the sarcasm. "Well, I figured since Talon is protecting what's her name… Tabitha? And you're after Desi-do-wrong, the two of you could use a hand."
"The last time I asked for a hand, Artemis sent me a disembodied one."
Ash grinned. "You know that when dealing with the gods, you have to be specific. Besides, I have information."
"You could have e-mailed it."
Ash shrugged. "My presence here means nothing. You know I won't interfere with you and Desiderius."
Now, why didn't he believe that?
Oh yeah, because Acheron Parthenopaeus had never minded his own business when it came to badass Daimons. "Seems I've heard that one before."
"Fine," he said, shrugging nonchalantly, "I'll take my unwanted information and—"
"I've already heard what the Oracles said."
"But you don't know the rest of the story," Liza interjected. Acheron frowned at her.
"What story?" Kyrian asked.
Acheron took a piece of gum out of his coat pocket and unwrapped it. Meticulously. "You said you didn't want to know."
"Fine, I'll go after him without it."
As Kyrian reached the door, Ash's voice stopped him. "Don't you find it odd that Desiderius has powers beyond anything you've seen from a Daimon?"
"Oh," Kyrian said, turning back to face him. "Let me think. Yeah."
Liza sniggered until Acheron gave her a sideways glare. She straightened up, then burst out laughing. Excusing herself, she ran to the back of the store, and cackled. Acheron watched her leave, then turned to face Kyrian. He sobered. "All right, here are the facts. It seems old Bacchus got horny one night and made out with an Apollite babe. Nine months later, she had Desiderius."
"Shit."
"Yeah," Acheron concurred as he picked up one of Liza's dolls she had fashioned to look like Artemis. He frowned at the startling likeness, then set her back on her shelf. "The good news is old Daddy Bacchus couldn't care less since he has bastards strung out all over history. The bad news is Desiderius was just a little ticked off that Daddykins doesn't care about the twenty-seven-year time limit on his life. Since he's half-god, he thought he should have a little longer life span than that. One, say, that reaches immortality."
"So, he turned Daimon."
Acheron nodded. "And with those added demigod powers, he is equal to us in speed, strength, and skills. And unlike us, he has no Code."
"That explains a whole lot, doesn't it? If you can't get back at the gods themselves, then go after those who serve them."
"Exactly. And we are prime Desi bait."
"One question."
"Answer."
Kyrian ignored his sarcasm. "Why does it have to be a Dark-Hunter with a soul who defeats him?"
"Because that is the prophecy, and you know how prophecy works."
"How do you know all this?"
Acheron looked back at the doll he'd picked up. "I talked to Artemis last night. It took a while, but I wormed it out of her."
Kyrian considered that for a minute. Acheron had always been the goddess's favorite Dark-Hunter. Her preference for Acheron had been a long-standing grudge in the hearts of many Dark-Hunters. But Kyrian didn't mind. He was grateful for the Atlantean's ability to find out information from Artemis and give it to them.