Stygian (Dark-Hunter #27)

Ash smiled. “I love it! Thank you!” Without thinking, he grabbed Styxx into a hug and discovered that his face wasn’t the only part of him his war tutor had bruised. “I’m sorry.”

His breathing ragged, Styxx shrugged it off. “It’s fine.” He fingered the soldier in Ash’s hand. “I hope I bought the right one. The vendor said that you’d admired it when Ryssa purchased you the horse.”

“I did, but Ryssa didn’t have the coin for both.” Ash scooted off the bed to place the soldier on the horse in his window. “What did Ryssa get you?”

“Did you know the soldier’s arms move?” Styxx joined him at the window to show him.

Ash frowned again as he noted the sadness that tainted his brother’s smile. “Did Ryssa not get you a horse, too?”

As before, Styxx didn’t respond to his question. “I’m so glad I got the right one. I was worried that the vendor might have forgotten or wasn’t being truthful with me.”

“Styxx,” Ash said sternly, “what did you get for your birthday?”

His hand falling away from the soldier, he sighed heavily and stepped back. “A hoplomachos.”

A drill instructor who had beaten him … “Is that it?”

All the happiness faded from his vivid blue eyes. “Father also gave me the honor of observing court sessions when he holds them.”

“What does that mean?”

“Every morning, I have to sit with him while he settles disputes for the people so that I can see what will be required of me as king. And so that I can witness Father’s wisdom and learn from it.”

Ash gaped at the boring horror he described. “But mornings are your free time.” The only free time Styxx had at all—the rest was taken up with tutors, work, and temple obligations. Those mornings were when Styxx would sneak off to play with him until Styxx’s lessons began after lunch.

“Father says I’m too old now for play. He’s not raising a boy, but a king, and kings don’t play with toys. I have to assume my royal duties and stop being selfish and thoughtless all the time.”

Ash looked at his soldier that he knew Styxx would have bought with his own coin that, unlike Ryssa, he’d had to work for. “You’re not selfish or thoughtless.”

Styxx didn’t comment. “I better go. The last time I was late for Master Karpos, he told Father. Father’s already angry enough that I asked for a toy today when I’m too old for such. I’ve no wish to aggravate him further.” Without another word, Styxx left.

Closing his eyes to blot out the past, Ash winced as he mentally pushed those memories back into the darkest recesses of his mind.

He and Styxx had been so close when they were young.

Brothers, forever and always. It sickened him that Estes and the others had put such a wedge between them.

That they had put a wedge between them. Harsh words and even harsher actions.

On both their parts.

For centuries, he’d kept all those happy memories of Styxx bottled up. Kept anyone from knowing he had a brother, at all. And while he’d gone on with his life, he’d abandoned Styxx to absolute solitude.

To Artemis’s “tender” care.

Guilt and pain stabbed him hard over his own thoughtless callousness.

Tonight, Tory had a huge surprise party planned for him. Urian was supposed to keep him occupied with his son while Tory and the others decked out Sanctuary and finished the preparations. He wasn’t supposed to know anything about it, but her best friend Pam stunk at keeping secrets and had accidentally told him two days ago.

Never in his life had he been happier.

And Ash owed it all to Styxx and Urian for the sacrifice they’d made in rescuing Tory out of Kalosis. Had his brother not stepped in to help Urian save Tory’s life, Ash wouldn’t have a precious son to hold.

Or a beautiful woman who was his entire world.

He glanced around the stark condo that showed no sign of life and wished Styxx were here so that he could say thank you one more time. So that he could wish him a happy birthday for the first time since they were little boys, bonded as twin brothers.

But then what the hell? He hadn’t spent a birthday with Styxx in over eleven thousand years. What difference would one more make?

Still …

“Wherever you are, brother, I hope you’re surrounded by friends.”





June 25, 2012

“Where the hell’s my brother?”

Urian paused his game that he was playing against his nephews and muted the mic to stare blankly at Acheron. “You need to modulate that unwarranted ire, buddy. I’m not your ho and you ain’t my pimp.”

A tic started in Acheron’s jaw. “Sorry.” But his tone contradicted that apology. “Do you happen to know where Styxx is?”

Of course he did. However, he was too pissed to answer. So Urian took a swig of his beer. “Am I your brother’s keeper?”

“You gave Tory his e-mail. I assume that means you’re keeping tabs on him.”

Urian clicked back into play and had to bite his tongue to stop his causticity from saying something that would cause Ash to blast him through a wall. “Your point?”

“I’ve been to his condo three times this month and he’s not there. As far as I can tell he hasn’t been there for quite some time.”

Nice powers of observation, Atlantean god. It only took you what? Three and a half years to realize your brother had moved out?

For that alone, he wanted to punch Ash.

Refraining from that particular level of stupid, Urian cleared his throat. “Maybe we should put his face on a milk carton, see if anyone has information on his location.” He frowned. “Do they still have milk cartons? Now that I think about it, I haven’t seen one in a while.”

“I’m serious, Urian.”

“I can hear that,” he said, taking his anger out on his online opponent as opposed to his boss. “I mean, damn, how dare my eleven-thousand-year-old brother not be right where I put him three and a half years ago after he did me a huge favor and saved my life and that of my wife. Rank filthy bastard. Inconsiderate dog! Maybe we should take him out back and beat the shit out of him for worrying you so.”

“What is your problem?”

Time to kiss the wall …

Urian sighed and clicked the mic on for a second. “Hey, Tyr, Erik? Can we pick this back up later, little buddies? Uncle Ash needs me for a little bit.”

“Is something wrong?” Wulf asked.

“Nah, I’ll be back in a few. Don’t let the little guys kill me off yet.” Urian signed off and removed his headset.

Picking up his beer, he faced Acheron. “You know I’d die for you. I put my ass on the line for you all the time without fail or hesitation. Hell, sometimes I’m even grateful you saved my life. But you’re not perfect, Ash. None of us are, and when it comes to your brother, you’re a fucking prick.”

Rage mottled Acheron’s cheeks as his eyes darkened. “You don’t know my brother like I do.”

“Really?” His voice dripped with sarcasm. “When was the last time you sat down and had an actual conversation with Styxx? Oh wait…”

Urian feigned a laugh as he slapped his thigh. “I know this one.” He sobered and those blue eyes pierced Ash with contempt. “You were seven years old at the time. So that’s what? You’re the same age as my dad … so that would make you older than shit and shit’s great-grandfather … it would have been only about eleven thousand five hundred and fifty-three years ago, give or take a few hours … Yeah, you’re right, that makes you one hell of an expert on everything to do with Styxx, since my last conversation was last week when I spent two nights with him. But hey, why did I even question it? Stupid me.”

Ash’s cheeks mottled with even more color. “Don’t you dare judge me on something you know nothing about.”

“Why not? You judge Styxx all the time on things you know nothing about.”

“I’m warning you, Urian…”