Sins of the Night (9 page)

Good thing she wasn't blond and preferred a bath to a shower …

You're rambling, Danger.

You think? I got a lunatic in my house sent to me by Ash. Thank you, Ash. Any other loons you want to offload on me? And I thought my aunt Morganette was insane. At least she only thought her cat was Uncle Etienne who she kept dressed in breeches and knee coat. That was almost cute, but this …

Oh, yeah, send me the straitjacket, Ash. You owe it to me.

Yet even in the midst of her mental rant, something he'd said struck her and calmed her down a degree. “What do you mean that you live someplace where there aren't any humans?”

His eyes were an almost normal shade of hazel. “In a realm far away from here.”

“Is that like in
Star Wars?
A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away? Want to tell me where
your
Tatooine is located? Is it anywhere in this universe? Near Toledo maybe? The one in Ohio or Spain? I'm not picky. Can I MapQuest it?”

Alexion laughed bitterly. “You know the biggest difference between men and women? Whenever I was sent to a male Dark-Hunter, he never asked me any questions. I simply told him that I'd been sent by Acheron and he either accepted it or tried to kill me. If he accepted it, then he went about his life as if I weren't there, but you … you want to know every little detail of my life and being.”

She gave him a miffed stare. “Gee, you think? Here's an interesting tidbit about me. I don't let strangers into my house. Ever. So if you expect to sleep here, then you owe me some answers about who and what you are. Now let's get back to this realm thing where you live. What is it?”

Honestly, she didn't expect an explanation, but to her amazement, he gave her one after a brief pause. “It's like heaven or hell. In a weird way, it's a combination of both. It exists in a place that most humans would call another dimension. Sort of.” She could tell he was struggling to explain so that it would make sense to her. “Let's just say that there is no MapQuest for it. It leaves Hammond completely stumped.”

Well, at least that was a beginning. And it did go a long way in almost soothing her.
Yeah, right. You still don't know anything about him.
No, but at least he'd tried to explain it to her. That was a big leap forward for Mr. Spooky.

He lifted his hand toward her cheek again and froze before he touched her. “May I?”

You really ought to run out of this room and lock your door, Danger. That's what a smart woman would do.
The urge to comply with that was strong, but she didn't listen. It had never been in her nature to run from anything.

Taking a deep breath, she took his hand into hers and pressed it to her face. His touch was cold. Icy. There was absolutely no warmth whatsoever to his skin.

But the look on his face was one of pure pleasure and it made her stomach flutter. No one had ever taken such joy from touching her. At least not this platonically.

“You are beautiful,” he said in a breathless tone. His eyes filled with wonder and lust, he cupped her cheek in his palm as he searched her gaze with his. “How long has it been since you last made love to someone?”

She was stunned by his question. “I beg your pardon?”

A wicked light danced in his eyes. “I know, none of my damn business.” His face turned somber, then he let his hand fall away. “But I, too, have moments of profound curiosity.”

“Yeah well, that particular curiosity is likely to get you cold-cocked.”

His features softened as if the thought amused him. “I suppose even painful contact with that area is better than none at all.”

Her jaw dropped in disbelief. “What?”

He gave her a wicked grin to let her know that he was teasing her again. “You have to forgive me if my social skills are a bit rusty. I don't interact with others much.”

“No?”

“No.”

She considered all of his disclosures. He didn't seem like the kind of guy who confided in others easily and that made her wonder how she got to be so lucky. “So you don't eat. You don't interact. What do you do?”

Once again, he didn't answer—an action that reminded her much of Acheron and his vagueness whenever someone asked him a personal question.

Instead, Alexion walked away from her.

Danger wasn't willing to let this go. She followed him down the hallway.

Halfway down, he stopped. He had his eyes closed and his head tilted as if he were listening to something. It was a very Ash-like pose.

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

“Do you hear that?”

She listened for a few seconds, but all she could hear was her own heart beating. “Hear what?”

He didn't respond. “Someone's watching us.”

Danger went cold with dread as she turned around slowly, searching every corner of her house with her gaze. “Who? Where?”

“I don't know. But I can feel it.”

He could feel it. Well, that just explained it all, didn't it?

Danger let out a tired breath. “Maybe you're just overworked.”

“Acheron?” he called out loud.

Danger frowned, half expecting Acheron to make one of his surprising appearances in her house.

He didn't.

It was just the two of them, standing there in her hallway, looking for ghosts in the shadows. Oh yeah, this was so comforting. Like a porcupine in a condom factory. She fully expected something to jump out of the walls at them.

Alexion swore under his breath before he walked away from her, into her living room. He stood in the center and looked around.

“Artemis,” he growled, “I summon you to human form.”

Part of her waited expectantly to see if Artemis would really show. After a few minutes and no miraculous goddess appearance, she realized he was full of crap. “Artemis can't come here. Remember? I have no soul and the gods won't come near us because of that.”

“No,” he said from between clenched teeth. “The Greek gods can be around you if they want to, they just don't because most of them are assholes. As for Artemis, she won't come because she's getting back at me by not responding.”

“Back at you for what?”

“Oh, there's a multitude of reasons for why she hates me.” He glowered up at the ceiling. “I swear, Artemis, this isn't the way to endear yourself to me.” He shook his head in disgust. “Simi's right, you really are a heifer-goddess.”

“Who is Simi?” she asked again.

He finally looked at her. “Like me, she's ‘other.'”

“Ahh, that explains so much. I truly appreciate your trusting me with the honest truth. It just warms me through and through.”

A tic started in his jaw as he moved toward the stairs. “Whether you want to believe it or not, there's someone in this house with us.”

He was right, she didn't want to believe it. In fact, she knew better. “No there isn't. Believe me, Alcatraz had less security than this house.”

“And they had how many people escape?”

He was seriously starting to irritate her.

Danger followed him up the stairs as apprehension ran rampant through her system. Did he really sense something that she couldn't? It wasn't likely that someone could be in here, but then most people would say that her dead existence in the world of the living wasn't possible either. Maybe he did know something she didn't.

He crept down her hallway like a large panther on the prowl. Room by room, he went in and searched. By the time they reached the last bedroom she was tired of it.

“I told you, no one is here.”

He cocked his head. “Simi?” he called out. “If that's you, stop playing with me and go buy something.”

Danger rubbed her temples. “Do you always talk to your imaginary friends?”

“Simi's not an imaginary friend.”

“Oh, then she must be your invisible friend. Would Ms. Simi like her own room while you stay here?”

She could tell by the look on his face that she was working him into apoplexy.

“I don't understand why you can't accept that there are things that exist beyond your knowledge and understanding. To humans the idea of a Dark-Hunter is preposterous. They have no idea that your world, or that of the Daimons, exists. The world that I know is just as real as this one and it is even more carefully guarded—just because you've never heard of it doesn't mean I'm making it up. You've never met the Squires' Ruling Council either, but you know they're all alive and well.”

He did have a point. Still. “Yeah, and children the world over believe in Santa Claus and the tooth fairy, which are all figments of their imagination.”

Alexion ignored her. He clamped his temper down as he tried to reach out with his senses. There was a hum and an airy sensation that came whenever someone used a sfora to spy on events. He'd learned that aeons ago, once Simi discovered she could use a sfora to watch him while she was home in Katoteros.

But if it wasn't Simi …

That would leave someone from the other side. To his knowledge, Apollymi didn't need a sfora. She used a pool in her garden to spy on others. Which begged the question of who else would be interested in his presence here?

Why were they watching him?

Danger sighed. “Look, I don't want to stand here and watch you commune with ‘other.' It's been a long night, my brain is fried and my emotions shot. You can stay here and do your hocus-pocus cat prowl, looking for your invisible friends all you want. I'm going to head off to my media room and veg.”

Alexion nodded. If she left, then whoever was watching them would have to choose who to follow. That would tell him who their target was. “If you need me, call.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “Yeah, I'll just do that when I need the great big, hulking he-man to charge in and save my weak, girly butt.”

Alexion wasn't sure if he should be appalled or amused by her. Strangely, he was both.

She left him, and the feeling of being watched didn't cease. He let out a relieved breath. He was the target. Good. So long as it or they was after him, he could handle it. Convincing the Dark-Huntress that something was after her might prove more difficult.

She seemed very stubborn in her beliefs and extremely resistant to listening to him.

“You picked a great time to waylay Acheron, Artemis,” he said under his breath. “Do us all a favor and let him go.” But he knew that was impossible. Artemis would never willingly allow Acheron to leave her. She spent every waking minute contriving ways to tie him to her even more.

But at least Acheron did have a choice in the matter. If he really wanted to, he could be a callous bastard and walk away from the Dark-Hunters. There had been times in the last few decades when Alexion wouldn't have been surprised to see Acheron do it.

He, on the other hand, had no way out. He couldn't survive in the human world for long. Life outside of Katoteros was only something he could have in his dreams.

For him there would never be love. Children. Wife.

Life was always a trade-off. No one could have it all. Everything came down to what sacrifice you were willing to make for your dreams. He had a good life in Katoteros. Simi loved him, and in a weird way, he suspected Acheron did too.

His every wish was reality …

Except one.

He wasn't able to have a consort. Acheron refused to open his house to anyone else; not that he blamed him. He more than understood Acheron's need for privacy and his fear of having to explain his past.

Alexion was only grateful that Acheron had been willing to let him in. Had he not …

Well, he'd been living in a most painful, pathetic hell that was unimaginable to most people. If not for Acheron, he would still be there. So from where he stood, his current situation wasn't so bad.

At least it wouldn't be if he could find out who was watching him.

But in the deepest corner of his mind, he knew who it had to be. Stryker. There was no one else. Which left him with just one question.

Why?

Chapter 8

Danger headed to her room to put on a pair of old gray flannel pajamas. They were two sizes too big, just like she liked them, and thick and ratty enough to discourage any romantic notions Alexion might have.

If only they could protect her from such perilous thoughts. She'd gone way too long without sex herself so it was hard to have him here and not have illicit thoughts about that ripped body of his. Holy moley, did he have to look so damned good?

Get a grip.

“I should throw him out of here, consequences be damned,” she said quietly as she exchanged her black shirt for the pajama top.

If only she could toss him out. With his powers, he'd most likely just poof himself right back into her house, say something snotty, then prowl around searching for his invisible friends. Ugh!

She jerked her top into place, then reached for her cell phone. She pressed the autodial for Acheron.

It rang for several minutes without an answer.

How weird. Acheron always answered on the first ring. She'd never had him not pick up the phone whenever she called.

“Great,” she said at the phone. “You know, you could at least use voice mail.”

Sighing, she shut it off and finished dressing. Where could Acheron be?

Could he really be a Daimon?

Or should she trust Alexion?

A woman could lose her mind trying to sort this out. Not to mention that the last time she put her faith in a man, it not only killed her, but killed everyone she held dear in her heart.

Trust was for the stupid.

“I just need a break.”

A little time to think.

Grabbing a pillow, she headed down the hall to the stairway that led upstairs to her media room. There was no sign of Alexion anywhere.

Maybe that was a good thing.