danger was an intrinsic part. Had he just told his mother the truth, then she wouldn’t have gone home that night with a Daimon. She would be safe. She was killed because of him and that was a truth that hurt to the deepest part of his being.
Unable to stand it, he forced himself to walk to the keypad on the gate and press the code. He half-expected it not to work, but it did.
He paused by the petunias his mother had planted in a large vase next to the backdoor and moved it over so that he could get the spare key.
Everything was just as it’d been when he’d been human... Only now everything was different. His stomach churning, he opened the door and stepped into his house.
His friend Kyl had told him that there had been some damage to the place during Katrina, but that the house had been restored. Nick had to give them credit, it was pristine. Nothing, other than the absence of his mother, was out of place.
“Oh, Nicky, look! It has one of them garbage disposals! I never thought I’d own something so fancy and look at them tiles on the wall. Is that Italian marble?”
He glanced to the right where the Italian marble bake center was. “Only the best for you, Mom.”
“Oh you spoil me, baby. You’re the only thing right I’ve ever done in my life. I don’t know why God was so good to me that He sent you down from heaven, but I’m glad He did.”
But Nick Gautier wasn’t heaven-sent. Like the worthless bastard who’d fathered him and then run off, he was hell-born.
He set the suitcase down by the door and laid the key on the countertop. The last time he’d been here, he’d been calling out for his mother. Screaming her name as he ran through the house, trying to locate her.
He’d found her upstairs.
Against his will, his feet took him right to the spot. He stood in the doorway, looking at his mother’s favorite chair. In his mind, he could see her lifeless body still there. But in reality, there was no trace of her death...
Or his own. Just before where he now stood, he’d called out to the Greek goddess Artemis to make him a Dark-Hunter. When she refused and told him he’d have to be dead first, he’d blown his brains out right in front of her.
Afraid of how Acheron would react to his death, Artemis had made him immortal and marked him with the Dark-Hunter bow-and-arrow brand on his face, but he wasn’t one of her army who protected mankind. He had powers greater than the others. He could walk in daylight.
And now he shared powers with Stryker...
Nick frowned as he saw a half-empty Coke bottle on the sidetable. His mother had never touched regular Coke, only Diet, and he would never have dared left a drink in her secret sanctum.
Someone else had been in the house, and since there was an opened paper from today, he would say that someone had moved in and made themselves at home.
In his house.
Anger tore through him. Who would dare?
Wanting blood, he stormed through the rooms, but found each one empty with no sign of who had dared trespass here. “Fine,” he snarled. “I’ll deal with you later.”
First he wanted to visit his mom. He winced at the thought. He hadn’t been to the cemetery since his worthless father had died. Even though he’d passed the St. Louis cemetery almost every day, it just hadn’t been a place
where he’d ever spent much time. It reminded him of his father and of the gang he once ran with. A gang that used to rob tourists who dared to enter the cemetery alone.
But he would go now to visit his mother. He hadn’t been there for the funeral. The least he could do now was let her know he still missed her.
His heart heavy, he walked the few blocks that separated his house from Basin Street and walked through the stone entrance of the St. Louis Cemetery. The rains had already moved on as they often did in New Orleans. Now it was sticky and hot.
Since it was morning, the wrought-iron gates were open and chained back. As a Daimon and a Dark-Hunter, Nick
Unable to stand it, he forced himself to walk to the keypad on the gate and press the code. He half-expected it not to work, but it did.
He paused by the petunias his mother had planted in a large vase next to the backdoor and moved it over so that he could get the spare key.
Everything was just as it’d been when he’d been human... Only now everything was different. His stomach churning, he opened the door and stepped into his house.
His friend Kyl had told him that there had been some damage to the place during Katrina, but that the house had been restored. Nick had to give them credit, it was pristine. Nothing, other than the absence of his mother, was out of place.
“Oh, Nicky, look! It has one of them garbage disposals! I never thought I’d own something so fancy and look at them tiles on the wall. Is that Italian marble?”
He glanced to the right where the Italian marble bake center was. “Only the best for you, Mom.”
“Oh you spoil me, baby. You’re the only thing right I’ve ever done in my life. I don’t know why God was so good to me that He sent you down from heaven, but I’m glad He did.”
But Nick Gautier wasn’t heaven-sent. Like the worthless bastard who’d fathered him and then run off, he was hell-born.
He set the suitcase down by the door and laid the key on the countertop. The last time he’d been here, he’d been calling out for his mother. Screaming her name as he ran through the house, trying to locate her.
He’d found her upstairs.
Against his will, his feet took him right to the spot. He stood in the doorway, looking at his mother’s favorite chair. In his mind, he could see her lifeless body still there. But in reality, there was no trace of her death...
Or his own. Just before where he now stood, he’d called out to the Greek goddess Artemis to make him a Dark-Hunter. When she refused and told him he’d have to be dead first, he’d blown his brains out right in front of her.
Afraid of how Acheron would react to his death, Artemis had made him immortal and marked him with the Dark-Hunter bow-and-arrow brand on his face, but he wasn’t one of her army who protected mankind. He had powers greater than the others. He could walk in daylight.
And now he shared powers with Stryker...
Nick frowned as he saw a half-empty Coke bottle on the sidetable. His mother had never touched regular Coke, only Diet, and he would never have dared left a drink in her secret sanctum.
Someone else had been in the house, and since there was an opened paper from today, he would say that someone had moved in and made themselves at home.
In his house.
Anger tore through him. Who would dare?
Wanting blood, he stormed through the rooms, but found each one empty with no sign of who had dared trespass here. “Fine,” he snarled. “I’ll deal with you later.”
First he wanted to visit his mom. He winced at the thought. He hadn’t been to the cemetery since his worthless father had died. Even though he’d passed the St. Louis cemetery almost every day, it just hadn’t been a place
where he’d ever spent much time. It reminded him of his father and of the gang he once ran with. A gang that used to rob tourists who dared to enter the cemetery alone.
But he would go now to visit his mother. He hadn’t been there for the funeral. The least he could do now was let her know he still missed her.
His heart heavy, he walked the few blocks that separated his house from Basin Street and walked through the stone entrance of the St. Louis Cemetery. The rains had already moved on as they often did in New Orleans. Now it was sticky and hot.
Since it was morning, the wrought-iron gates were open and chained back. As a Daimon and a Dark-Hunter, Nick
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