His father moved to cut off the trelos’s path to Apollymi’s palace.
For once, his father was no obstacle. With an astounding ease of motion, the Daimon knocked his father aside and slammed Archie into Davyn. Then he picked up Paris and threw him into Theo. Both of them crashed to the ground, tripping three others in the process.
Urian barely cut the trelos off before he reached Apollymi’s doors. “Don’t.” With a move he’d learned from studying Styxx’s journals and diagrams, he used his shield to press the Daimon backward.
The Daimon slung him to the side with the unexpected force of a Titan. It was so great that for a moment, Urian feared the bastard had torn his arm from its socket.
That hadn’t been in the manual.
Urian hit the ground hard but refused to stay there. No one would ever keep him down. Not for anything.
Rather, he quickly rolled over with his shield and in one fluid motion sprang to his feet. Prepared for war, he held his ground, but he knew his legs were wobbly. He only prayed that it wasn’t obvious to anyone else.
Especially the beast he faced.
With a loud, furious roar, the Daimon moved to wrest the shield from his arm. Afraid that this time he might actually lose his limb, Urian let it drop and stabbed him in the side. The trelos screamed and staggered back. His breathing labored, Urian unsheathed his kopis and stepped forward to slice upward with a stroke that landed straight in the center of the Daimon’s chest to hit the black mark where the human souls he’d feasted upon had gathered to form a giant stain over his heart. Instantly, the Daimon burst apart, showering them with a fine golden powder.
More relieved than he wanted to admit, Urian barely suppressed his nervous laughter. Mustering as much bravado as he could, he used his arm to wipe away his sweat and tried his best to act nonchalant about his victory. As if he did this kind of thing all the time, instead of it being his first real victory in battle.
But inside, he was turning cartwheels.
Who’s the Daimon-slayer? I’m the Daimon-slayer. Kiss my ass, bitches!
Archie began cursing him while the crowd around them cheered his name. His father smiled proudly. Yet in all honesty, and in spite of his re lief, Urian was more shocked than anything. Stunned he was still standing and that his strike had worked.
Given the size and immense strength of the Daimon, he was lucky he wasn’t bleeding on the ground, lying next to his shield in pieces.
Come to think of it …
Where was his shield?
Urian scowled as he realized it was nowhere to be seen. What the…?
“You were amazing!” His father clapped him on the back and hugged him.
As did Davyn and several others who rushed to congratulate his victory.
Until they realized that Apollymi and her Charonte stood in the open door of her palace, glaring at them.
That cut short everyone’s revelry and merriment. A scowling goddess usually did.
Especially when it was Apollymi. No one wanted to come under her scrutiny, as those who did usually met with a massive calamity of some sort.
Even Urian swallowed hard as he prayed that her expression wasn’t directed at something he’d done. He could literally feel his testicles trying to climb back inside his body.
“How did that Daimon get so close to my domain?” Oh yeah, that tone was chilling.
His father rubbed nervously at his neck. No doubt his own nuts were shriveling, which made Urian feel better about his. “He came through the portal, akra.”
She folded her arms over her chest, with a sarcastic sneer. “You were supposed to be monitoring it, were you not, Strykerius?”
“I was, akra. Forgive me.”
Her gaze narrowed dangerously as a wind began to stir through Kalosis, warning them of her temper. They all dreaded whenever the goddess did that. “It appears these treli are becoming problematic for us. We need someone who hunts them. A group who can make certain they are dealt with before this happens again.”
“Agreed.” His father glanced to Trates, who paled instantly.
Apollymi also turned toward Trates, who shrank back from her stare as if she’d shot fire from her eyes at him. “Gather forty of your best warriors, and designate them as an elite force to hunt them down.”
“I will, akra.” Trates’s voice actually cracked. He cleared it before he spoke again. “We’ll have an Illuminati guard you, and the portal to make sure no other comes this close again.”
“You do that. And make sure Urian is among them.”
Urian’s stomach hit the floor. Why was he drawn into this?
His father’s eyes widened. “But he’s just a pido, akra.”
“A boy who succeeded where the rest of you failed. Do not underestimate your son, Strykerius. Even at his tender age, he’s already among the best of your fighters.”
He barely caught the groan in his throat. Great …
Urian could already feel the ass-kickings that were headed his way as he met his brothers’ angry glares. Single me out, goddess. Not like they don’t already resent my father’s favoritism that he never seeks to hide. By all means, add yours to it, and put another target on my back.
If his father wanted to know why he was such a good fighter, all he had to do was start by counting how many sons the man kept producing whenever he dropped his loincloth. Sons who took aim for Urian’s head whenever they were left alone. Even Tannis was known to take a whack at him from time to time, if he let his guard down around her.
And she had incredible aim with her shoes. Thank the gods she didn’t sharpen the heels.
Oh, to have been an only child …
But no, he had to have been born to fertile parents.
Theo shoved his shoulder into Urian’s back as he walked past, letting him know they would have “words” later.
Beautiful.
There were times when he truly felt as if he were an outsider in his own family.
This was definitely one of them. Especially when he caught the snarled-up grimace that contorted the features of his own twin as everyone began dispersing.
Damn. It was particularly bad when even Paris resented him. Davyn passed him a sympathetic stare before he followed after Paris.
Urian …
He didn’t react to those summonses he’d learned long ago only he could hear. Sadly, this one didn’t come from the one who brought him joy. But rather from the one who scared him witless.
Suddenly, he felt as if he were being watched. His skin crawled with the sensation. He rubbed at his neck and glanced about until he caught sight of a petite blonde he’d never seen before. She was stunning.
And the moment their gazes met, she quickly rushed off and vanished with the crowd.
Damn it! He’d give anything to find out who she was. But right now, he didn’t dare. Not while he was being called.
His little timid rabbit would have to wait.
Taking care to make sure no one saw what he was doing or where he was headed, he made his way through a hidden back door, into Apollymi’s palace and down the hall that led to her private garden where she spent most of her time by the pool she’d first shown him many years ago when he’d been a small boy seeking daylight. A pool he’d visited many times in secrecy since that fateful dawn.
He slowed as he drew near her position.
As always, she was breathtaking in her beauty. Ethereal and strangely serene in her sadness that tugged at his heart. He’d never seen anyone so graceful.
Her long white-blond hair was dressed in tiny braids that coiled around her face in an intricate style that framed her delicate features. The back of her hair had been left free to fall in waves over her thin, pale shoulders. Her long black gown fanned out across the dark stones, blending with it as if she were part of the landscape. A cold, brittle piece that would mercilessly crush anyone who dared disturb her.