Read Online Dark Hunter 6 - Sins of the Night by Sherrilyn Kenyon - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Sherrilyn Kenyon
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and for the time being Acheron's guard was up where the child was concerned. Yet there would come a time when his guard would relax.
Then the child would be vulnerable again.
But when it came to Alexion…
Acheron thought his right hand could take care of himself. That pomposity was what would be both their undoing.
"Acheron a Daimon." Trates laughed as he picked up the sfora that Stryker used so that he could watch those in the human realm.
The blond man before him, like all Daimons, was well over six feet tall, incredibly good-looking, and in the height of his youth. It was the curse of their ancient Apollite race that no one could live past their twenty-seventh birthday.
At the hour that marked their birth, they began to slowly, painfully disintegrate into dust. The only way to avoid that fate was to begin feeding on human souls. Whenever an Apollite decided to feed on souls rather than to die, he was termed a Daimon and cast out of the Apollite mainstream. Most Apollites feared Daimons as much as humans did, though he'd never understood why.
Very few Daimons ever preyed on their own.
It was after the conversion to Daimon status that the Dark-Hunters were sent in by Acheron to kill them and free the stolen souls before they died.
Pitiful wretch, he sided with the humans and not the Daimons. If Acheron were smart, he would have been on their side. But for some reason Stryker had never understood, Acheron sided with a race that would try to destroy him if they ever learned who and what he was.
What an idiot.
Trates rolled the sfora in a small circle over the polished desk. "I have to say,
akri
, that was a good one. The Dark-Hunters are truly too stupid to live."
Stryker leaned back in his black leather chair as the corners of his lips lifted in memory of his lies. "I wish I could take credit for that one, but alas it was a Dark-Hunter who inspired that rumor somewhere around five or six hundred years ago."
"Yes, but you were the one who invented the whole war between him and his supposed mother. I think Apollymi would be highly offended to learn that you dared to say she had birthed one of Artemis's servants."
The smile froze on Stryker's face. Little did Trates know, that was exactly what he suspected. Although Apollymi refused to admit it, he had begun thinking she was Acheron's mother the night Urian had died. Why else would Apollymi forbid him from killing Artemis's servant?
Artemis held Acheron's soul. Acheron was sworn to her service and spent all of his time fighting the very beings who served Apollymi. Given the Destroyer's profound hatred of Artemis, it would seem only natural that they would be sent out to kill Artemis's favorite boy toy.
And yet the only time one of Stryker's Daimons had hurt Acheron, Apollymi had viciously gone after all of those responsible. Even now his people lived in fear of reawakening her wrath. Not that he blamed them. Apollymi, much like him, lived for brutality.
Of course, he had no real proof of his suspicion where Acheron was concerned. Not yet. But if he was right and Acheron was Apollymi's lost son, then Stryker would have the power to finally destroy the ancient Atlantean goddess. With her gone, he would rule Kalosis and all the Daimons who made this realm their home.
He would have unrivaled power. There would be no one to stop him from enslaving the humans.
The world of man would be his…
He could already taste the sweetness of victory.
"Apollymi isn't to learn of this," Stryker said sternly to Trates. "I will tell her about the Dark-Hunter insurrection after they are all dead."
Trates frowned. "Why wouldn't you tell her now?"
He feigned nonchalance. "She has her mind on other matters. I think this should be a surprise for her, don't you?"
His minion paled at the thought. "The goddess doesn't like surprises. She was rather upset with us over the 'surprise' destruction in New Orleans."
That was true enough. Stryker had sent in his Spathi Daimons and they
Then the child would be vulnerable again.
But when it came to Alexion…
Acheron thought his right hand could take care of himself. That pomposity was what would be both their undoing.
"Acheron a Daimon." Trates laughed as he picked up the sfora that Stryker used so that he could watch those in the human realm.
The blond man before him, like all Daimons, was well over six feet tall, incredibly good-looking, and in the height of his youth. It was the curse of their ancient Apollite race that no one could live past their twenty-seventh birthday.
At the hour that marked their birth, they began to slowly, painfully disintegrate into dust. The only way to avoid that fate was to begin feeding on human souls. Whenever an Apollite decided to feed on souls rather than to die, he was termed a Daimon and cast out of the Apollite mainstream. Most Apollites feared Daimons as much as humans did, though he'd never understood why.
Very few Daimons ever preyed on their own.
It was after the conversion to Daimon status that the Dark-Hunters were sent in by Acheron to kill them and free the stolen souls before they died.
Pitiful wretch, he sided with the humans and not the Daimons. If Acheron were smart, he would have been on their side. But for some reason Stryker had never understood, Acheron sided with a race that would try to destroy him if they ever learned who and what he was.
What an idiot.
Trates rolled the sfora in a small circle over the polished desk. "I have to say,
akri
, that was a good one. The Dark-Hunters are truly too stupid to live."
Stryker leaned back in his black leather chair as the corners of his lips lifted in memory of his lies. "I wish I could take credit for that one, but alas it was a Dark-Hunter who inspired that rumor somewhere around five or six hundred years ago."
"Yes, but you were the one who invented the whole war between him and his supposed mother. I think Apollymi would be highly offended to learn that you dared to say she had birthed one of Artemis's servants."
The smile froze on Stryker's face. Little did Trates know, that was exactly what he suspected. Although Apollymi refused to admit it, he had begun thinking she was Acheron's mother the night Urian had died. Why else would Apollymi forbid him from killing Artemis's servant?
Artemis held Acheron's soul. Acheron was sworn to her service and spent all of his time fighting the very beings who served Apollymi. Given the Destroyer's profound hatred of Artemis, it would seem only natural that they would be sent out to kill Artemis's favorite boy toy.
And yet the only time one of Stryker's Daimons had hurt Acheron, Apollymi had viciously gone after all of those responsible. Even now his people lived in fear of reawakening her wrath. Not that he blamed them. Apollymi, much like him, lived for brutality.
Of course, he had no real proof of his suspicion where Acheron was concerned. Not yet. But if he was right and Acheron was Apollymi's lost son, then Stryker would have the power to finally destroy the ancient Atlantean goddess. With her gone, he would rule Kalosis and all the Daimons who made this realm their home.
He would have unrivaled power. There would be no one to stop him from enslaving the humans.
The world of man would be his…
He could already taste the sweetness of victory.
"Apollymi isn't to learn of this," Stryker said sternly to Trates. "I will tell her about the Dark-Hunter insurrection after they are all dead."
Trates frowned. "Why wouldn't you tell her now?"
He feigned nonchalance. "She has her mind on other matters. I think this should be a surprise for her, don't you?"
His minion paled at the thought. "The goddess doesn't like surprises. She was rather upset with us over the 'surprise' destruction in New Orleans."
That was true enough. Stryker had sent in his Spathi Daimons and they
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