Stygian (Dark-Hunter #27)

He would assume it was fairly obvious given that his pillow was an extremely large bosom, and there was really no doubt given where his hand was buried. And he knew from having walked in on his ex-wife’s antics that she was by no means a woman of pristine virtue.

“Keep your tone down,” he snapped, then cursed himself as even his whispered tone cut through his head like a dagger. “What’s wrong with you now?” He yawned and carefully extracted his hand so as not to harm his sleeping companion whose name he couldn’t quite remember.

“It’s Nephele! For spite, she’s run off with that … that … piece of nothing I forbid her to marry!”

Rubbing at his head, he lay back down and snuggled up to the nicely rounded, warm bosom on his right. To his deepest chagrin, he couldn’t recall the name of its owner either. But then to be fair, she hadn’t asked his. “I’m sure she’s at Daphne’s or Idora’s.”

Xanthia moved to squat beside his pallet and dared to tug the covers off him. “You’re not listening to me, Urian!” She rudely shoved something in his face. “She’s left Kalosis!”

He blinked to clear his vision and took the note she was waving in front of his nose. After a couple of seconds, he was able to focus on the words.

And with each one he read, his blood ran cold.

“Damn it, woman! Where were you when she did this?” He rose to his feet.

Xanthia’s nostrils flared. “Certainly not trapped between the thighs of a whore!”

He glared at her. “I wouldn’t tilt at that dragon were I you.” He ground his teeth and reread the letter. “I can’t believe she went to the human realm.”

“That’s what I was trying to tell you.” She gestured at the letter. “You have to do something. Find her!”

Scratching his head, he nodded. “Okay. Go home and watch Geras. I’ll get her back.” At least he was fully sober now.

As fast as he could, he washed, then used his powers to dress.

He went straight to Apollymi’s palace and sought out their goddess in her garden. Her mirror was the only thing he knew that had any chance of locating his daughter. He prayed he could talk the goddess into letting him use it for such a purpose.

But the moment he asked, she didn’t appear pleased.

Sitting on her perch while her two ever-present Charonte watched on, Apollymi arched a withering brow. “You know the answer, Urian. When it comes to such things, the mirror shows what it wants.”

Hence why he had no idea where Xyn was, even though he’d asked it repeatedly. The damn thing would never tell him where she was located. And he had no idea why. Maybe he kept it from working.

Or she did. He wouldn’t put much of anything past Apollymi, especially when she got into one of her moods.

Not wanting to think about that, he went over to the edge and froze as he caught sight of himself in the black water. Normally, Apollites couldn’t cast a reflection. And that had driven Sheba to utter madness as she’d endlessly asked him how she looked. As if such a great beauty could ever have a day where she didn’t look amazing.

Yet never once had she ever believed him when he told her that. Women … he’d never understand that about them.

Personally, Urian had never thought much about it.

Until now. For the first time, given that his kind couldn’t cast reflections, he saw himself and understood why the other Apollites and Daimons treated him the way they did.

I am a freak.

His eyes were even more horrific than they’d led him to believe with their ridicule. While his father’s were the swirling silver of their goddess’s—which, granted, were off-putting—his were an unnatural shade of vibrant blue. They practically glowed. Unlike any color he’d ever seen before on any person.

And while he’d removed the beads and ribbons of Sheba’s tribe, he’d kept his ghostly white hair long.

Though he’d never shared a great passion with his second wife, he had cared for her and he felt that he should honor her memory and their time together.

He owed her that much. For she had changed him. She’d taken a boy and shown him that he could function without his family, and made him a confident man. Independent in a way he wouldn’t have been had she not come into his life and taken him away from Kalosis.

For that he would always be grateful.

But the one thing he couldn’t do was wear Xyn’s armor. Even if it meant his death. That, he’d packed away in a chest and laid a spell upon it to keep it safe from harm. Because it was all he had left of her.

Plus the pain of bearing her love without her here …

That stinging bite was more than he could handle. So he was dressed in the black Spathi armor of the rest of the Apollymians. And yet he looked nothing like them. Not really. He stood out as deadlier and toxic.

Urian Deathbringer.

Sheba would be proud. Releasing a tired breath, he forced his thoughts to the matter at hand. He had a little girl to find. One who thought herself a woman and had no idea how complicated her young life was about to get if he didn’t locate her and drag her home to her mother.

At first the stubborn waters refused to show him anything. They swirled and remained frustratingly blank.

Urian was about to give up and go searching on his own, when they finally began to swirl very slowly. Then they picked up speed.

Suddenly he saw that sassy little blond head he knew so well. She was in a large hall with other Apollites. Relief coursed through him that she was all right.

Until one of the men present grabbed her. She cried out in alarm.

The man in front of them curled his lip and unsheathed his sword. “We might as well kill her. If she’s not his blood daughter, she’s no good to us. And serves no purpose. Besides, why would he care? I heard he divorced her mother, long ago.”

“He still dotes on her. She can bring him to us.” The Apollite tightened his grip on Nephele’s arm and turned his hate-filled glare toward her. “Call for Urian to open the portal.”

She shook her head. “I will not betray my solren.”

He backhanded her so hard that she hit the floor.

With a deep growl, Urian teleported without a second thought. And realized too late that he should have probably looked around at how many men were actually in this hall before he acted.

Then waited for at least one more Apollite to join him on this venture.

Probably more.

Yeah, this was a bad idea, as he was severely outnumbered. Glancing around while trying to act nonchalant, he saw at least one hundred Apollites and Daimons in the hall.

With him.

And Nephele.

Damn, I should have taught her to fight better. Though he’d tried, she’d never been interested in it and had always ended up spending more time arguing with him about going into the ring than actually learning to defend herself. Which had been completely counterproductive, so he’d given up out of frustration.

Note to self—I failed at parenting.

Then again, given the huge number of warriors in the hall, it wouldn’t have mattered with just the two of them.

They were doomed.

Doing his best not to show his true feelings on the subject, Urian cleared his throat and arched a brow at the men surrounding him. There was only one thing to be done.

Bluff and swagger.

He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the one in front of him. “I suggest you remove your hands from my daughter or lose them.”

Sounded tough enough. He could almost believe it.

The Apollite had the nerve to laugh. That lasted for about three seconds until Urian blasted him with his powers and rendered the hyena a smoldering pile of ash on the floor. Before the others could recover from their shock, Urian grabbed Nephele and summoned a portal. He sent her through it and was about to go after her when the others rushed him.

He closed it instantly to protect his family and Kalosis. Which meant he was on the wrong side of things.

Damn it.

Forcing himself to remain calm, he blinked slowly as he scanned the men. “Now that my daughter’s safe…” He reached up toward his necklace. It was his last line of defense.