Authors: Sherrilyn Kenyon
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Romance, #Paranormal, #Vampires, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Fantasy, #Paranormal & Urban
The Dark-Hunters (461 page)
“Strykerius!” he shouted, summoning a different kind of demon from its home.
A thick smoke appeared from the circle to form the image of a man Kessar hadn’t seen in centuries. Tall and well-muscled, he had short black hair and a nasty attitude that more than matched Kessar’s.
Stryker looked at him with cold disdain. “I thought you were dead.”
Kessar laughed before he removed his sunglasses to show Stryker his red glowing eyes. “I’m alive … and we need to talk.”
EPILOGUE
One month later.
Kat snuggled closer to Sin as they lay entwined in bed. There was nothing she adored more than feeling his hard muscles against her naked body. If she could, she’d spend eternity right here.
But they’d been in bed for almost fourteen hours and sooner or later, they’d have to get up to attend to business in the casino … and the business of patrolling for gallu.
They still hadn’t found the location of the Dimme. But so far, the demon hadn’t gone on a rampage. Kat wasn’t sure if that was good or not. She was glad the lone Dimme wasn’t killing humans willy-nilly, but it must be killing someone in order to survive. And it would continue to do so until they located it.
Sighing, she heard Sin’s cell phone going off again. “Damien,” she said, recognizing the ring tone.
“Probably.” Sin rolled over to rub noses with her.
She wrapped her body around his and moaned at the wonderful sensation of him on top of her. “Aren’t you going to answer it?”
“Eventually. First I have something I want to do.”
She gave him a wicked grin. “I thought you already did that.”
His gold eyes burned into hers as he stared at her as if he could eat her up. “Not yet.” He pressed his lips to hers.
Kat sighed at the taste of him until she felt the electric surge of powers moving from him to her again. She tried to pull away, but Sin held her close until she felt every bit of her old power.
Only then did he release her. His gaze searched her face and body as if afraid he’d harmed her. “Did it work? Are all your powers back?”
She nodded.
He let out a relieved breath. “Good. I’ve been trying to figure out how to do that since you gave them to me. You know it’s not easy to control all that power.”
“Yes, I do know.” She cupped his cheek in her hand. “It’s how I accidentally depleted a certain Sumerian as a young woman and almost killed him.”
“That was what I was afraid of doing with you. I didn’t want to hurt you, but I want you back as you were.”
“Why?”
“Because I love that about you and I don’t want to take anything from you. I only want to make your life as great as you make mine.”
Warmth filled her at his words. “So I guess this means that you’ve abandoned all your quests to get back at Artemis, huh?”
A devilish glint appeared in his eyes. He only looked like that when he was plotting something. “No, not entirely.”
“What do you mean?”
He shrugged before he nipped at her lips. “I’ve just found a better form of vengeance than killing her.”
“And that is?”
His eyes glowed warmly as he locked gazes with her. “I want to see the look on her face when you tell her she’s going to be a grandma.”
Kat laughed. He was absolutely evil, but that was what she loved most about him. “Then get dressed, my sweet, and we’ll go make your day.”
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
DEVIL MAY CRY
Copyright © 2007 by Sherrilyn Kenyon.
Excerpt from
Acheron
copyright © 2008 by Sherrilyn Kenyon.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. For information address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10010.
ISBN: 0-312-94686-4
EAN: 978-0-312-94686-9
St. Martin’s Press hardcover edition / August 2007
St. Martin’s Paperbacks edition / April 2008
St. Martin’s Paperbacks are published by St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10010.
eISBN 9781429917421
First eBook edition: February 2014
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UPON THE MIDNIGHT CLEAR
SHERRILYN KENYON
Contents
A Special Holiday Word from Sherrilyn Kenyon
To Monique for going above and beyond the call of duty. You are the absolute best! And to all my friends for being there when I needed you most. To the RBL’s for their never-ending dedication and support.
Most of all, for you, the reader. Thank you for taking this trip with me.
The way to overcome the angry man is with gentleness, the evil man with goodness, the miser with generosity and the liar with truth.
—An Indian proverb
It sounds good, doesn’t it? If only people and life were that effing easy. Trust me, it takes more than a friendly biscuit to tame a hungry lion. And it’s all fun and games until someone gets hurt. Then it’s war.
—Savitar, Chthonian god
PROLOGUE
Dolor smiled as he finally felt the call of his summoning ring. For countless centuries he’d been asleep—cursed to wait for another human to grow enough testicles to awaken him. How he hated the dream goddess, Leta, for her abilities to trap him to this fate. To make him the lapdog of a mere mortal.
Now the bitch would pay.
But first he’d have to deal with this pathetic mortal who had temporary power over him.
Leaning his head back, he allowed the conscious part of himself to travel through the darkness until he appeared as an apparition before his summoner.
“See! I told you it would work!”
Dolor frowned at the small, round male who had beady blue eyes, glasses, and a bald scalp that gleamed under the grueling fluorescent lights. He stood next to a taller human whose blond hair was cut close to his head. His green eyes were feral with madness and anger.
And those green eyes narrowed suspiciously on Dolor. “Who are you?”
Dolor snorted at the asinine question. “You summoned me. Don’t you know?”
The human gaped as the smaller man pushed his glasses back onto his nose with his forefinger. His jowls flapped as he looked up at the taller man. “See, I told you, Donnie. The book of spells and ring worked just like Mark said it would. I told you Mark was a genius about all that weird occult stuff. He’s never been wrong before. Now you tell the pain god who you want punished and he’ll do it.”
“For a price,” Dolor added, reminding them that there was more to bringing him back from stasis than just reading the lines from his book and wearing his binding ring. Right now, most of his powers were still bound by Leta’s curse.
The blond man crossed his arms over his chest and gave him a tough, smug grimace. “What price?”
Dolor shrugged nonchalantly as if the steep price was nothing at all. “The price of all vengeance—blood sacrifice. I will need you to kill someone in order to awaken me from my slumber.”
The one called Donnie nodded as if he agreed to the terms. An instant later, he pulled a small shiv from his back pocket and cut the throat of the man beside him. The smaller man tried to scream, but the cut was too deep to allow it.
Dolor lifted an eyebrow as the shorter man fell to the floor, clasping his neck and jerking until death finally claimed him. Donnie merely watched him die without a single sign of remorse or feeling for the person who’d been his cellmate for the last two years.
Good. Dolor needed someone this soulless to help him.
Smiling, he applauded the human. “Nice gesture, but not what I needed.”
Donnie curled his lip. “What do you mean?”
“There is a ritual, you fool. I don’t come back without…” Dolor hesitated at revealing too much lest he frighten the human away, “certain requirements.”
“And they are?”
Again, Dolor hesitated, but there was no other way for the human to awaken Dolor’s powers. Hopefully the human would continue to be heartless and cold. “The blood of a loved one. You must offer me someone important to you and you must utter my curse while you bleed them. When the words are spoken and they lie dead, my powers will be unbound and I’ll be able to enter this world.”
There was a little more to it than that, but the human didn’t need to know the rest until the time came for it.
First things first. If Dolor could get this sacrifice, the rest would be easier … provided the human was serious about his vengeance.
Donnie scowled as if skeptical. “How do I know you’re not lying to me?”
“Why would I lie?”
“Because everyone does.”
And he would know. It was lies and deception that had landed this piece of trash in prison. Dolor gave him a soothing, if not insincere, smile. “True, but I want my freedom as much as you do.”
Donnie scoffed. “And I’ve seen this movie a few times. You’ll kill me once you’re free, won’t you?”
Dolor laughed. “My venom isn’t for you, little human. I have my own person to bleed. Because of her, I have to do what you order me to first. Then and only then will I be free to exact my own revenge. Trust me, you’ll live a long time once I’m gone.”
Because living with the actions he’d have to take to free Dolor was the worst thing Dolor could do for this human and since he was the god of pain …
Dolor smiled and this time he meant it.
Donnie stepped over the body to approach his shimmering ghost form. “I’ve been waiting for this for far too long. Since the day I was first arrested, I’ve been trying any- and everything I could and nothing has worked. What I want more than anything else in this world is my kid brother dead and I want him to suffer unimaginable misery before he dies. We’re talking pain of Biblical proportions. The kind that has him screaming out for mercy and begging me to kill him to end it while I laugh at his agony. Can you do that?”
“That is my specialty.”
Donnie smiled as the insanity flared deep in his eyes. “Then tell me what I have to do to set you free. I will do anything to see my brother suffer and die, and I do mean
anything.
”
Two days later
Dressed in a long, flowing, white Grecian gown, Leta came awake with a sharp gasp. It took her several seconds to acclimate to her surroundings. She was still in her cushioned pod, asleep in the hall of mirrors on the Vanishing Isle.
But something was wrong. She could sense it. The dark hand of evil slithered over her body with an unmistakable touch.
Dolor, the most vile of all gods, had been summoned back into the human realm which had triggered her own waking. The god of pain had been trapped centuries ago by Leta, who had fought him until they’d both been bloody and spent. Forbidden by Zeus to kill him outright, she’d been forced to trap him so that he would never do to another what he’d done to her.
And once he’d been trapped, she’d placed herself in stasis to heal and await the moment when he would stir.
Now someone had found Dolor’s hidden ring and uttered that which was never to be uttered again. Sucking her breath in sharply, she allowed her buried memories to assail her.
Morons! The stupid humans had no idea what they’d unleashed. Pain wasn’t content to attack just the one person it was sent after. No, it was bloodthirsty and ruthless. Dolor respected nothing and no one was immune to Pain.
Sure, he’d stalk and kill the one he was sent after, but once that was accomplished, Pain would return to the one who’d summoned it.
May the gods help the summoner then. His torture would be without end.
Closing her eyes, she reawakened her dormant powers. She let her thoughts drift until she found Pain’s target.
The target had his back to her, but even so she could tell he was tall and broad shouldered. His blond hair was tousled and wavy as it fell to the top of his black collar.
As a dream god, she could feel his bitter emotions calling out to her. They were so strong she could even feel them as her own.
“Yeah,” he said, his deep voice filled with malice. “It never fails to amaze me how a single lie can undo an entire lifetime of good.”
And it was then she realized something. This man didn’t need Pain. It already lived inside him right alongside Bitterness and Rage. They had him nestled tight against their bosoms and from what she sensed they had no intention of letting him go.
Then she heard it …
That deep, blood-chilling laugh.
“Leta…”
She flashed herself from her sterile pod to stand on the cold marble floor. A bitter wind plastered her gown against her body, exposing her bare feet to the ankles. It made the gold bands on her upper arms bitingly cold. The walls around her were white; no pictures or curtains or anything else to break its sterile quality.
Still she felt the presence of the god of Pain.
“Where are you, you bastard?”