"You know," he said to Acheron, "one day you're going to have to explain to me this relationship the two of you have and why you're the only Dark-Hunter who can be in a god's presence and not get fried."
"One day, I might. But it won't be tonight." Acheron handed him a retractable sword and a throwing dagger. "Now get your ass back to bed. You have a job to finish and you need your strength."
Kyrian started away from him.
"Oh and Kyrian?"
He turned to face him. "Don't go home alone."
"Excuse me?"
"Desiderius has your number. It's no longer safe there."
"I don't give a damn if—"
"Listen to me, General," Acheron said, his voice menacing. "No one here doubts your ability to make Desi the next menu item at the Road Kill Diner; however, you have other people to protect, including a headstrong Cajun who listens about as well as you do, and a sorceress with virtually untapped powers. So, for once, could you just do as I ask and not argue?"
Kyrian smiled tightly. "Just this once, so don't get used to it."
Acheron watched as Kyrian left the shop. No sooner had he gone than Liza came from the back. "Why didn't you tell him that you got his soul from Artemis?" she asked.
Ash slid his hand into his pocket where the medallion rested. "It's not time yet, Liza."
"How will you know when it's time?"
"Trust me, I will."
She nodded, and held the curtains open for him. "Now, speaking of people who should tend their wounds, you need to come back here and let me help you. Goodness, but I've never seen anyone with their back in worse shape than you. Why on earth you let anyone beat you like that is beyond me. And I know you had to let them. A Dark-Hunter with your powers would never take something like that unless he wanted to."
Ash didn't answer, but he knew the reason. Artemis never willingly let go of one of her Dark-Hunters. The price of their freedom was a high one. He had agreed to sacrifice some of his flesh in order to gain Kyrian a chance to kill Desiderius.
Most of all, his torn and bruised back had bought the General a chance for happiness. It was a bloody ritual he willingly underwent every time a Dark-Hunter wanted his or her soul back. A ritual none of them knew about. What went on between him and Artemis was private. And he would always keep it that way.
Kyrian eased his way over to Bourbon Street where he'd found the punks before. The pain in his side was lessening, but still excruciating. It took him a full half hour before he found what he was looking for. And the look on the punk's face was priceless.
"Holy shit!"
Kyrian grabbed him before he could run. "Tell Desiderius we're not finished."
The kid nodded. Kyrian released him and watched as he tore down the street at a dead run.
He knew the first rule of war was that a surprise attack virtually guaranteed a victory, and he had just blown his best surprise. Still, he refused to keep his advantage at the risk of Amanda or one of her family members being hurt. Desiderius wouldn't go after them so long as he had a Dark-Hunter to contend with. Limping, he returned to Nick's car and finally headed back to the one thing that gave him peace.
"Where have you been?" Amanda asked as soon as Kyrian returned.
"I had something to do."
Nick cursed. "You went to find Desiderius, didn't you?" He cursed again. "You sent word to him that you were alive."
Kyrian ignored him as he headed to the couch and sat down. "Are you okay?" Amanda asked. He nodded as he stretched out.
Nick glared at him. Rounding the sofa, he clenched and unclenched his fists at his sides. "Dammit, Kyrian, why would you—"
"Nick, lay off me. I'm not in the mood."
Nick's nostrils flared. "Fine, go and get yourself killed. What do I care anyway? I get the house, the cars, everything. So you go right ahead and tell him you're wounded and half-dead. Tell you what, why don't I just leave the door unlocked and invite him on in here?"
"Nick, you're not helping," Amanda said gently.
She saw the agony in Nick's eyes. The filial affection he had for his Dark-Hunter. "You know what?" he said through gritted teeth. "I don't give a damn. 'Cause I don't need anyone." He pointed at Kyrian. "I don't need you, your money, or a damn thing. I've never needed anyone but myself. So you go right on and die, 'cause I don't care."
Nick turned to leave.
Faster than she could blink, Kyrian was on his feet in front of Nick. Nick glared at him. "Get out of my way."
Kyrian's face showed the patience of a father with a rebellious teen. "Nick, I'm not going to die on you."
"Yeah, right. How many times do you think Streigar said that to Sharon before he was turned into an extra crispy fried Dark-Hunter?" Nick shrugged Kyrian's hold off his arm and stormed out of the house. A tic started in Kyrian's jaw as he pulled his cell phone off his belt and dialed it.
"Acheron," he said after a brief pause, "I have a renegade Squire who is no doubt headed out to the Quarter in a new anthracite Jag XKR convertible. Can you catch him before he does something stupid?"
His brow creased with worry, Kyrian met her eyes as he listened. "Yeah, thanks."