The Dark-Hunters (14 page)

“Keeping company with mortals?” Julian asked as he raked an equally cold sneer over Eros. “My, Cupid, has Tartarus frozen over while I was away?”

Eros disregarded his angry words. “Damn, boy,” he said in disbelief, “you haven’t changed a bit. I thought you were mortal.”

“I was supposed to be, you…” Julian went off again into a cursing frenzy.

Eros’s eyes flashed. “With a mouth like that, you ought to hang out with Ares. Sheesh, little brother, I didn’t think you knew the meaning of all that.”

Julian grabbed his brother by the shirt. But before he could do anything more to Eros, the woman threw her arm out and held up her hand.

Julian froze as still as a statue. By the look on his face, Grace could tell he wasn’t pleased.

“Let go of me, Psyche,” Julian growled.

Grace’s jaw dropped.

Psyche?
Could it be?

“Only if you promise not to hit him anymore,” Psyche said. “I know the two of you haven’t been on the best of terms, but respect the fact that I rather like his face as it is and I won’t stand for you damaging it any further.”

“Let … me … go,” Julian said again, stressing each word.

“You better do it, Psych,” Eros said. “He’s being nice to you right now, but he can break your hold even more easily than I can, thanks to Mom. And if he does, you
will
get hurt.”

Psyche lowered her hand.

Julian released his brother. “I don’t find you amusing, Cupid. I don’t find anything about this funny. Now, where is Priapus?”

“Hell, I don’t know. Last I heard, he was living it up in southern France.”

Grace’s head buzzed from her newfound knowledge. She looked back and forth between Cupid and Psyche. Could it be? Could they really, truly, be
Cupid and Psyche?

And could they really be related to Julian? Was such a thing possible?

Then again, she supposed it was as likely as two drunk women conjuring a Greek love-slave out of an ancient book.

She caught Selena’s delighted, eager look.

“Who’s Priapus?” Grace asked Selena.

“A phallic fertility god who was always portrayed as walking around with a hard-on,” she whispered.

“Why does Julian need him?”

Selena shrugged. “Maybe he’s the one who cursed him? But here’s the fun fact. Priapus is Eros’s brother, so if Julian is related to one, there’s a darn good chance he’s related to the other.”

Cursed into an eternity of slavery by his own brother? The very thought made Grace ill.

“Summon him,” Julian said darkly to Eros.

“You summon him. He’s p.o’d at me.”

“P.o.’d?”

Cupid responded in Greek.

Her mind overwhelmed by it all, Grace decided to interrupt them and get a few answers.

“Excuse me, but what is going on here?” she asked Julian. “Why did you hit him?”

Julian gave her a droll look. “Because it gave me a great deal of pleasure.”

“Nice,” Cupid said slowly to Julian, never once looking Grace’s way. “You haven’t seen me in what, two thousand years? So, instead of a friendly, brotherly hug, I get slugged.”

Cupid smirked at Psyche. “And Mom wonders why I’m not closer to my siblings.”

“I’m in no mood for your sarcasm, Cupid,” Julian said between clenched teeth.

Cupid snorted. “Would you stop calling me that godawful name? I never could stand it, and I can’t believe you would use it, given how much you hated the Romans.”

Julian smiled coldly. “I use it only because I know how much you despise it,
Cupid.
”

Cupid clenched his teeth and Grace could tell he barely restrained himself from striking out at Julian. “Tell me, did you summon me just so you could beat the crap out of me? Or is there a more productive reason for why I’m here?”

“Honestly, I didn’t think you’d bother coming since you ignored me the last three thousand times I called.”

“That’s because I knew you were going to beat me.” Cupid pointed to his swollen cheek. “Which you did.”

“Then, why did you bother coming now?” Julian asked.

“Honestly,” he said, repeating Julian’s words. “I assumed by now you’d be dead, and that it was some other mortal who just happened to sound like you.”

Grace watched as all emotions left Julian. It was almost as if Cupid’s hurtful words had killed something inside of him.

The words also seemed to take some of the steam out of Cupid as well.

“Look,” he said to Julian, “I know you blame me, but what happened to Penelope wasn’t my fault. I had no way of knowing what Priapus was going to do when he found out.”

Julian winced as if Cupid had slugged him. Raw, tormented agony glowed in his eyes and on the lines of his face. Grace had no idea who Penelope was, but it was obvious she had meant quite a bit to Julian.

“Didn’t you?” Julian asked, his voice hoarse.

“I swear to you, little brother,” Cupid said softly. He glanced to Psyche, then back at Julian. “I never meant for her to get hurt, and I never meant to betray you.”

“Right,” Julian sneered. “You expect me to believe that? I know you too well, Cupid. You delight in wreaking havoc on mortal lives.”

“But he didn’t do it to
you,
Julian,” Psyche said, her tone pleading. “If you won’t believe him, then believe me. No one ever intended that Penelope should die that way. Your mother still mourns their deaths.”

Julian’s glare hardened. “How can
you
even stand to speak of her? Aphrodite was so jealous of you that she tried first to marry you off to a hideous man, then kill you to keep you from marrying Cupid. For the Goddess of Love, she certainly has very little of it in her for anyone other than herself.”

Psyche looked away.

“Don’t you talk about her that way,” Cupid snapped. “She’s our mother and deserving of your respect.”

The grim anger on Julian’s face would have scared the devil himself and Cupid shrank before it. “Don’t you
ever
defend her to me.”

It was only then Cupid noticed Grace and Selena. He did a double-take as if they had just popped into the group. “Who are they?”

“Friends,” Julian said to Grace’s surprise.

Cupid’s face turned harsh, cold. “You don’t have any friends.”

Julian said nothing in response, but the strained expression on his face touched Grace deeply.

Seemingly unaware of how biting his words had been, Cupid casually moved to stand beside Psyche. “You still haven’t told me why it’s so important that you get a hold of Priapus.”

Julian’s jaw ticked. “Because Priapus cursed me into an eternity of slavery, and I can’t break out of it. I want him here long enough to start pulling off parts of him that don’t grow back.”

Cupid’s face blanched. “Man, he had balls to do that. Mom would’ve killed him had she known.”

“Do you honestly expect me to believe he did this without her knowledge? I’m not that stupid, Eros. That woman couldn’t care less what happens to me.”

Cupid shook his head. “Don’t start on that. When I offered you her gifts, you told me to shove them straight up my back orifice. Remember?”

“I wonder why?” Julian asked sarcastically. “Zeus cast me out of Olympus just hours after my birth, and Aphrodite never bothered to argue. The only time any of you ever came near me was to heap some form of torture on my head.”

Julian leveled a killing glare at Cupid. “There’s only so many times you can kick a dog before it turns vicious.”

“Okay, granted, some of us could have been a little nicer to you, but—”

“But nothing, Cupid. None of you ever gave a damn about me. Especially not
her.
”

“That’s not true. Mom never got over you turning your back on her. You were her favorite.”

Julian scoffed. “Which is why I’ve been trapped in a book for the last two thousand years?”

Grace ached for him. How could Cupid just stand there, listening to this and not do everything within his power to save his brother from a fate worse than death?

No wonder Julian cursed them.

Suddenly, Julian grabbed the knife from Cupid’s belt and slashed his own wrist.

Grace gasped in horror, but before she even finished making the noise, Julian’s wound healed up without so much as a tiny bead of blood.

Cupid’s eyes widened. “Holy shit,” he breathed. “That’s one of Hephaestus’s daggers.”

“I know.” Julian handed the dagger back to Cupid. “Even you can be killed by one, but I can’t. I have been completely damned by Priapus.”

Grace saw the terror in Cupid’s eyes as he realized the full depth of Julian’s sentence. “I knew he hated you, but I never thought he’d stoop this low. Man, what was he thinking?”

“I don’t care what he was thinking. I just want out.”

Cupid nodded. For the first time, she saw sympathy and concern on Cupid’s face. “All right, little brother. First things first. Hang tight and let me go find Mom and see what she has to say.”

“If she loves me as much as you say, why not summon her here and let me speak directly with her?”

Cupid gave him a duh-stare. “Because the last time I mentioned your name, she cried for a century. You really hurt her feelings.”

Though Julian’s stance and face were rigid and cool, in her heart, Grace suspected Julian must have surely suffered just as much as his mother.

If not more.

“I’ll consult with her and be with you shortly,” Cupid said, draping an arm over Psyche. “Okay?”

Julian reached out and grabbed the necklace from Cupid’s neck. He jerked it off with one hard tug.

“Hey!” Cupid shouted. “Careful with that.”

Julian balled the chain up in his fist and left the small bow to dangle out of his hand. “This way, I know you’ll come back.”

Looking greatly peeved, Cupid rubbed his neck. “Just take care of it. That bow is dangerous in the wrong hands.”

“Have no fear. I well remember the bite of it.”

The two of them exchanged a look of wary understanding.

“Later.” Cupid clapped his hands, then he and Psyche vanished in a puff of golden smoke.

Grace took a step back, her mind whirling. She couldn’t believe what she’d just heard and seen.

“I have to be dreaming,” she whispered. “Either that or I’ve watched one too many episodes of
Xena.
”

Grace stood still as she struggled to digest all she had seen and heard. “That couldn’t have been real. It had to have been some sort of hallucination.”

Julian sighed wearily. “I wish I had the option of believing that.”

“My God, that was Cupid!” Selena said excitedly. “Cupid. The real thing. The cute little cherub who hands out hearts.”

Julian scoffed. “Cupid is anything but cute. As for handing out hearts, he’s more likely to rip them out.”

“But he can make people fall in love.”

“No,” he said, tightening his grip on the necklace. “What he offers is an illusion. No power from above can make one human love another. Love comes from within the heart.” There was a haunting quality to his voice.

Grace met his gaze. “You say that as if you know.”

“I do.”

She could feel his pain as if it were her own. She reached out to touch him lightly on the arm. “Is that what happened to Penelope?” Grace asked quietly.

His eyes tortured, Julian looked away from her. “Is there some place I can get my hair cut?” he asked unexpectedly.

“What?” Grace asked, knowing he was changing the subject to keep from answering her question. “Why?”

“I want nothing to remind me of
them.
” The grief and hatred on his face was tangible.

Reluctantly, she nodded. “There’s a place in the Brewery.”

“Please take me there.”

Grace did. She led him and Selena back into the Brewery to the salon.

No one spoke again until after the beautician had him firmly planted in the chair.

“You sure you want me to cut this off?” the woman asked as she raked adoring hands through the long, golden locks. “It sure is gorgeous. Most men look like crap with long hair, but it really becomes you, and it’s so healthy and soft! I’d love to know what you use to condition this.”

Julian’s face was impassive. “Cut it.”

The petite brunette looked over her shoulder at Grace. “You know, if I had this to run my hand through at night, I think I’d be a little ticked that he wants to whack it off.”

Grace smiled to herself. If the woman only knew. “It’s his hair.”

“Okay,” she said with a wistful sigh. She cut it to his shoulders.

“Shorter,” Julian said as she pulled back.

The beautician looked skeptical. “You sure?”

He nodded.

Grace watched silently as the beautician cut his hair into a becoming style that curled around his face, reminding her of Michelangelo’s
David.

If it were at all possible, he was even more dazzling than before.

“How’s that?” the woman asked him at long last.

“It’s fine,” Julian said. “Thank you.”

Grace tipped the woman, then paid for the cut.

Looking up at Julian, she smiled. “Now, you look like you belong here.”

He snapped his head to the left as if she’d slapped him.

“Did that offend you?” she asked, concerned that she had inadvertently hurt him somehow. Heaven knew, that was the last thing he needed.

“No.”

But inside, she knew better. Something about her innocent comment had wounded him. Deeply.

“So,” Selena said slowly as they headed back into the crowd in the Brewery. “You’re the son of Aphrodite?”

He cut a sideways glare at her. “I’m no one’s son. My mother abandoned me, my father disowned me, and I was raised on a Spartan battlefield under the fist of whoever was around.”

His words cut straight into Grace’s heart. No wonder he was so tough. So strong.

She wondered if anyone had ever held him lovingly in their arms. Just once, without demanding he please them first.

He walked on ahead of them. Grace watched the sinuous way he moved. Like a deadly, sleek predator. He had his thumbs tucked into the front pockets of his jeans, and seemed oblivious of the women who gawked and sighed as he passed.

In her mind, she could just imagine what he must have looked like in his day, wearing battle armor.