Stygian (Dark-Hunter #27)

A few minutes later, he saw a bright flash and heard his father’s violent curse.

“Careful,” his father warned his men as they fired another round at the house. “Not that it’s likely, but give them a chance to come out before you blow the house apart.”

“Why?” Trates asked. “I thought the objective was to kill the heiress.”

Urian gave the man an irritated stare that said, Are you totally stupid? “Yes, but if we hurt the Abadonna in the process, we’re going to find out what it feels like to be turned inside out. Literally. Like most beings, I actually like the fact that my skin is outside my body.”

“She’s immortal,” Trates argued. “What’s a bomb to her?”

“Immortal like us, bonehead.” Urian snatched the rocket launcher from Trates’s hand and handed it off to Icarus. “Blow her body apart and she will die. None of you want to know what the Destroyer would do to us if that happens.”

Icarus aimed more carefully.

Stryker nodded his approval to his son, then projected his thoughts to the rest of his team. “Watch the exits. I know the Dark-Hunter will have a back way out of this place. When they run, you’d better catch them. Stand ready.”

*

Stryker studied the security cameras closely. He knew the heiress and her guards wouldn’t stay inside much longer. His men had already blown up the entire garage and were now slowly shooting into the house, section by section. There was a lot of exterior damage, but he couldn’t really tell how much was being done internally.

Not that it mattered. If this didn’t work, they’d burn it down. He already had the flamethrowers on standby.

Anyone worth his salt would have exit tunnels. And Wulf was certainly worth his salt.

Urian had found several exits so far.

His son just had to make sure they had found them all before their prey left the premises.

Urian? He projected his thoughts out to his son. Are you in position?

Yes. We have all of the exits covered.

Where are you?

The back lawn. Why? Is something going wrong?

No, I just want to make sure we can get to them.

They’re ours, Solren. Relax.

I will after she’s dead.

*

Urian cursed at the madness in his skull that was giving him a migraine. It was bad enough to have the human souls in his head screaming at him all the time. Now his father was a raging lunatic while he silently shouted orders at everyone as he sought to micromanage every single nanobit of this night.

Not to mention, Trates was so terrified of making a mistake that his current adrenaline level was running at scared Chihuahua on steroids with double espresso shots every ten and a half seconds.

Factor in all the other Daimons on the property who were shitting their pants and …

No wonder he kept getting nosebleeds.

“Are you all right, baby?”

He melted as Phoebe placed her soft hand to his forehead. “No. I’m a dumb sonofabitch for letting you talk me into this.”

She rose up on her tiptoes to kiss his lips. “It’s the only way. My sister would never trust you without me. And I don’t want to risk a Dark-Hunter killing you.”

Funny, he didn’t want to risk her, at all. “He lays one hand on you and so help me—”

“Shh—” She placed her fingers over his lips to silence his protests. “We have to hurry, right?”

He hated whenever she used his words against him. Phoebe was the most potent weapon the universe had ever devised to lay him low. And honestly? He was hoping to delay long enough that they might screw up and capture her sister, kill the bitch, and he wouldn’t have to risk his wife. That would suit him fine.

Better Cassandra die than Phoebe, and if the curse ended in the process …

Even fucking better.

“Urian,” Phoebe said calmly, “we’re not moving forward.”

He growled low in his throat. “All right.” Hating himself for the fact that this had disaster written all over it and he was actually participating in something he knew was stupid, risky, and against every survival instinct he possessed, he took her to the one place he hadn’t told his father about.

The boathouse.

Of all the exits for the house that he’d found, Urian figured this was the most likely escape route. For four people, it would have the most cover and be the quietest means to get past an enemy without being seen. Especially one who kept carpet bombing them.

Besides, who would expect a boat? And what were the odds that your enemy would just happen to have a boat on them to pursue you with?

Yeah, a boat escape made the most sense. Plus the bastard was a Viking. Taking off on water would be his first thought. Not the thought of a normal well-adjusted modern person, but for a Viking raider …

Boat.

So here they were.

Urian pressed Phoebe back into the shadows. “You wait here and don’t move. Let me secure the perimeter.”

“Aye, sir.” She gave him a mock salute.

Rolling his eyes, he headed for the back door.

Phoebe pressed her lips together as she admired the sweetest ass and deadliest walk any man had ever had in the history of mankind. Really, no one could surpass Urian’s. Even Davyn agreed and he’d been married to the man’s twin brother.

That said a lot.

Though there were times when she wondered if she should be jealous that Davyn was so preoccupied by her husband’s hindquarters. Or even worried, given the way Davyn joked.

Thankfully, she knew her husband was loyal to a fault. Otherwise, she would be a little nervous given how much time they were forced to spend apart. It took a lot of trust to let a man that hot live away from her for the majority of their marriage. Likewise, it took a lot of trust for Urian to leave her alone, too. Because the loneliness was hard to bear.

Not wanting to think about that, Phoebe glanced around the humongous building she was in. It was larger and more elegant than most houses, and given the extreme wealth she’d known growing up, it took a lot to impress her.

This place did that in spades. All around her was an impressive collection of high-end, high-tech boats that even her dad would have drooled over. You could tell the Dark-Hunter who owned this place had been a Viking in his mortal life. He obviously was still drawn to the sea and all things nautical.

Earlier, she’d gone exploring through the second floor, which had four bedrooms, a kitchen, and living, dining, and game rooms. Which was weird that he’d have it set up that way given how huge his main house was … or had been before Stryker had bombed half of it into oblivion trying to kill her sister.

Urian hadn’t been kidding about his father. That man was insane. He truly wouldn’t stop at anything to kill them. The car bomb he’d used on her and her sister and mother should have told her that, but she barely remembered that night. It was as if her mind had been unable to handle it and so she’d blocked it out.

All she really recalled was Urian waving as they drove by, and then waking up in Elysia, with him telling her everything would be okay.

She didn’t know what she’d do without him. How she could cope.

But damn, his father was a special level of hell that made no sense whatsoever. How could Urian have come from that whackadoodle?

And speaking of that …

Urian appeared with not one but two bodies.

Phoebe gasped at the sight and the irritated look on his face. She knew they couldn’t be Daimons because they were actual bodies. “What happened?”

“Two of our men got in the way.”

“Those aren’t Daimons.”

“Worse … Apollites. But I couldn’t risk them telling my father about the boathouse.” He placed them on the floor, near the rear of the building. With a disgusted look he wiped at his nose. “Stay here. Let me make sure there’s not any more. Be right back.”

Phoebe covered her face, as she felt terrible for having caused this. Though Urian didn’t say anything, she knew the hell she was putting him through. All these centuries, he’d fought and risked his life for the Apollymians. They were his family.

And she’d pitted him against them.

Pitted him against the father he adored. For her.