Stygian (Dark-Hunter #27)

Holy heaven! He was gorgeous beyond compare! Every part of her was on fire as she felt that hard, honed body flexing around hers.

He buried his lips against her throat as he picked her up and pressed her back against the wall.

Phoebe lifted her legs from the floor and wrapped them about his waist as chills ran up and down her entire body.

She was on fire. Until he sank his fangs into her neck. The moment he did that, her body exploded with pleasure the likes of which was indescribable. She shook from the force of her very first orgasm.

Urian growled as he tasted her pleasure. Wanting more of that sweetness, he slid his hand down under her shirt and beneath the elastic band of her panties to the sweet moisture so the he could stroke her and let her ride his fingers while he fed.

Phoebe groaned as he worked magic on her. Wanting more, she moved to bite him.

Urian immediately withdrew. “No!”

Panting and shaking, he stepped to the other side of the room. Every bit as disoriented, she scowled at him. “Why did you stop?”

“If you bite me, you’ll become a Daimon.” He wiped at the sweat on his brow. “You can feed me, but I can’t feed you.”

“That’s not fair.”

“Welcome to Kalosis,” he said bitterly. “That’s where I live.” He headed for the window.

“Urian, wait!”

“No, Phoebe.” He glanced to her door. “This is a mistake. Everything I touch, I destroy. And I don’t want to destroy you.”

Not anymore. Not even if his father killed him for it.

And he would.





March 4, 1989

Stryker paced his office furiously. His commanders were gathered there as he reamed them all.

Including Urian.

“They’re mortal. Mere Apollites. How in the name of Hades can they continue to elude my best strike teams? You are Illuminati, are you not?”

Allegra and Trates turned away.

Urian met his gaze without flinching. Mostly because he was the reason. He’d personally killed two of the Daimons his father had sent after Phoebe. But he wasn’t about to tell him that.

His father would gut him on the spot.

He curled his lips at them. “Get out of my sight!”

Urian headed out the doors, but not before Trates took his arm.

“Why are they failing?”

Urian shrugged as he gave Trates a reason other than the truth—that he’d killed them. “Jefferson Peters has a lot of resources. He’s spending them all to protect his daughters.”

Trates shook his head. “It doesn’t make sense.”

“Life seldom does.” And that was an understatement. Especially here lately. Nothing about his life made any kind of sense at all. He was living all kinds of lies and having to hide from everyone around him.

Apollymi. His father.

Even Davyn.

Whenever he was away from Phoebe, he began to doubt his sanity for throwing his life into this kind of chaos. And for what?

They hadn’t even slept together.

Then just when he had himself convinced that he would sever the ties and break it off, he’d see her and all rationale fled. One smile. One frown.

He was undone.

And her tears absolutely devastated him.

I’m so screwed.

Sighing, he stepped into the portal and headed to Zurich. Phoebe had sent over a Vax note with her new address a short time ago. Her parents would kill her if they knew what she was doing.

That she was sending their updated addresses to the very leader of the group out to kill them all.

But it was a risk they were both willing to take.

Urian straightened his jacket the minute he was out of the portal and in Zurich. He checked the time.

“Here, you little inkblot.”

A tic started in his jaw as he heard that lovely little insult some jack-off Dark-Hunter had come up with for them, thinking it was cute. It stemmed from the dark mark over their heart from the souls.

Pursing his lips, Urian crossed his arms and turned toward the tall, muscular beast and let out a bored sigh. “What? Did you burn out your last remaining brain cell coming up with that one?”

The Dark-Hunter flicked his wrist to release a spring-loaded dagger. “And here I thought I’d have a long patrol tonight. Where are your friends?”

“Got bored. Ate them. Decided I’d troll for bottom feeders, and I found you—lowest of the low. Lucky me.”

The Dark-Hunter lunged at him.

Urian tsked. “What? Are you rusty or new?”

Shrieking in rage, he countered with an upward cut. Urian blocked it with his hands and used his toes to release the dagger in his boot. He scissor-kicked the Dark-Hunter and slashed him across the chest.

He hissed in pain and staggered back.

“You might want to call your Squire and let him know you won’t be coming home.”

The Dark-Hunter rushed him.

Urian released his razor wire from his vambrace and caught him around the neck. With one twist and a sidestep, he snapped the Dark-Hunter’s head from his body.

Luckily, they tended to decay almost as fast as a Daimon. They just left a bigger pile of dust that quickly blew away.

“Sorry.” Urian sighed as he knelt down to collect the Hunter’s weapon and ID. He always made sure to notify the Squire’s Council that oversaw Dark-Hunter care whenever they killed one so that they’d know who died.

It was an odd thing to do, but he felt like he owed it to them. While Dark-Hunters didn’t have families per se, they did have Squires and other Hunters who were attached to them.

The worst thing in the world was to not know what happened to someone you loved. To be left waiting for them to come home again.

His stomach grew tight as he thought about Xyn. Even after all these centuries, he still missed her and wondered what had happened. If maybe, by some miracle, one day he’d pass her on the street.

It was stupid, but he couldn’t help it. The not knowing was its own form of hell. And that endless, miserable hope.

Yeah, he couldn’t do that to someone else. So he always made sure to let them know they had a Hunter KIA. As a soldier, he considered it an act of mutual respect for a comrade-in-arms. While they might be enemies, they were both fighting for what they thought was right.

Both protecting what they loved.

Urian looked at the Hunter’s license to see his grim smile. Cuthbert Ruriksen. Yeah, he looked like a Viking bastard from back in the day.

Remembering how they’d been in more primitive times, he slid the license and sword into his pocket and drifted back into the darkness.

By the time he finally found Phoebe’s new apartment, it was late. He’d expected to have to try to find a way to get her attention.

Instead, she was on the street and almost ran into him in her mindless rush to nowhere particular.

“Hey! What’s going on?”

She threw herself against him. “Take me home with you! Now!”

Urian held her against his chest and scowled. “Um, okay. Sure. My father would probably eat you alive, but sure. I could do that for you if suicide is really what you’re going for.”

She hit his chest with her fist. Not hard enough to hurt, but just out of frustration. “I don’t want to stay here, Uri. I’m done!”

Seriously concerned, he cupped her face in his hands. “What’s going on?”

With a ragged sigh, she gestured back toward the apartment building she’d been fleeing. “You don’t know what it’s like to have so many rules and dictates. All the time! I live under a microscope! I can’t change my mind without permission!”

“Yeah, no idea what that’s like. At all.” His voice dripped sarcasm.

She glared at him. “Not the same.”

He arched a smug brow at her.

“Don’t look so gorgeous at me. I’m not in the mood. Be angry on my behalf.”

He bared his fangs.

She laughed and hugged him.

Closing his eyes as he sighed in contentment, Urian cuddled her close and rested his chin against her head. “Is it really that bad?”

“Yes. They want me to wear body armor.”

“I want you to wear body armor.”

“Not funny.”

“Dead serious.”

He could actually feel Phoebe rolling her eyes against his chest. “So where were you heading just now?”

She pulled back to glare up at him. “You’re not really going to lecture me, too, are you?”

“Of course I am.”