Sins of the Night

It was after the conversion to Daimon status that the DarkHunters were sent in by Acheron to kill them and free the stolen souls before they died.

 

Pitiful wretch, he sided with the humans and not the Daimons. If Acheron were smart, he would have been on their side. But for some reason Stryker had never understood, Acheron sided with a race that would try to destroy him if they ever learned who and what he was.

 

What an idiot.

 

Trates rolled the sfora in a small circle over the polished desk. "I have to say, akri, that was a good one. The DarkHunters are truly too stupid to live."

 

Stryker leaned back in his black leather chair as the corners of his lips lifted in memory of his lies. "I wish I could take credit for that one, but alas it was a DarkHunter who inspired that rumor somewhere around five or six hundred years ago."

 

"Yes, but you were the one who invented the whole war between him and his supposed mother. I think Apollymi would be highly offended to learn that you dared to say she had birthed one of Artemis's servants."

 

The smile froze on Stryker's face. Little did Trates know, that was exactly what he suspected. Although Apollymi refused to admit it, he had begun thinking she was Acheron's mother the night Urian had died. Why else would Apollymi forbid him from killing Artemis's servant?

 

Artemis held Acheron's soul. Acheron was sworn to her service and spent all of his time fighting the very beings who served Apollymi. Given the Destroyer's profound hatred of Artemis, it would seem only natural that they would be sent out to kill Artemis's favorite boy toy.

 

And yet the only time one of Stryker's Daimons had hurt Acheron, Apollymi had viciously gone after all of those responsible. Even now his people lived in fear of reawakening her wrath. Not that he blamed them. Apollymi, much like him, lived for brutality.

 

Of course, he had no real proof of his suspicion where Acheron was concerned. Not yet. But if he was right and Acheron was Apollymi's lost son, then Stryker would have the power to finally destroy the ancient Atlantean goddess. With her gone, he would rule Kalosis and all the Daimons who made this realm their home.

 

He would have unrivaled power. There would be no one to stop him from enslaving the humans.

 

The world of man would be his…

 

He could already taste the sweetness of victory.

 

"Apollymi isn't to learn of this," Stryker said sternly to Trates. "I will tell her about the DarkHunter insurrection after they are all dead."

 

Trates frowned. "Why wouldn't you tell her now?"

 

He feigned nonchalance. "She has her mind on other matters. I think this should be a surprise for her, don't you?"

 

His minion paled at the thought. "The goddess doesn't like surprises. She was rather upset with us over the 'surprise' destruction in New Orleans."

 

That was true enough. Stryker had sent in his Spathi Daimons and they had wrought terror for a few weeks, only to have Acheron save the pitiful humans in the end. Damn him. He'd cost Stryker many a good Daimon that night, including Desiderius. But it wasn't the destruction that had made Apollymi angry, it'd been Desiderius's attack on Acheron she reacted to.

 

But Trates didn't know that. Only Stryker knew the real source of Apollymi's anger.

 

"Yes, but she's calmed down and is now quite content again."

 

Trates looked less than convinced as he returned the sfora to its gilded stand. "So what are your orders?"

 

"For now, we continue to play nice with the DarkHunters. Let them see our good side."

 

"We have good sides?"

 

Stryker laughed. "No, but as you said, the DarkHunters are too stupid to see otherwise. They will believe our lies for now and allow some of our newer members to hone their skills."

 

Trates nodded, then took a step back as if to leave.

 

"There is a new priority though."

 

Trates paused to look back at him. "And that is?"

 

"Kill the Alexion."

 

Trates looked startled by the order, but he quickly recovered himself. "How?"

 

A slow smile spread across Stryker's face. "There are two ways. We can either make him kill himself or we let the Charontes do it."

 

Neither method would be easy. And he could tell by Trates's expression that his second-in-command was weighing both courses of action with equal trepidation.

 

"How do we get the Charontes to kill him?" Trates asked.

 

"That's the tricky part, isn't it?"

 

Stryker considered his options. Unless he could get Apollymi to cooperate with him by allowing one or two of her pets to leave the Atlantean hell realm that made up their home, there was no way to get them to the Alexion. That would be damn near impossible. The Destroyer seldom allowed her Charontes out of Kalosis.

 

Then again, there were some of the Charontes who held no love whatsoever for the goddess who controlled them. Some who might be willing to do his bidding for a chance to be free…

 

Trates didn't even acknowledge that option. "How can you make someone kill himself?"

 

Stryker gave a short laugh at that. "Normally, you would have to destroy their will to live. Or give them a damn good reason to die."

 

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