Fear the Darkness Read online

  She rose slowly to her feet. At four feet ten, she shouldn’t have been intim-

  idating to anyone above the age of five and yet there was something so power-

  ful about her that it had never failed to quell him. Without thinking, he swept

  her up into his arms and held her close.

  “I knew you would return,” she breathed, before she kissed him on his

  branded cheek. “Your mother, she told me to watch for you.”

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  To anyone else, that comment might have seemed odd. But Menyara was

  a gifted clairvoyant. She knew things no one else did.

  “I didn’t kill my mother,” he said as he set her down again. That had been

  the vicious rumor that had been going around.

  She patted his arm. “I know, Ambrosius. I know.” She turned and indi-

  cated the tomb. “Every day I have come for you to let Cherise know she

  wasn’t alone.”

  He looked down at the stacks of flowers that were arranged around the

  tomb and saw where a small group of black roses were blooming in a tiny

  patch of earth. “You bring her flowers?”

  “No. I only arrange those the dark-haired man sends.”

  Nick frowned. “Dark-haired man?”

  “Your friend. Acheron. Whenever he’s in town, he comes and he visits too.

  And every day without fail, he sends over flowers for your mother to see.”

  His blood ran cold. “He’s not my friend, Menyara.”

  “You may not be his friend, Ambrosius, but he is yours.”

  Yeah, right. Friends didn’t screw each other over the way Nick had been

  screwed by Ash. “You don’t know him. What he’s capable of.”

  She shook her head at him. “Ah, but I do. Even better than you, I think. I

  know exactly who and what he is. I know exactly what he can do. And more

  to the point, I know what he cannot do. Or what he dare not do.” Her features

  softened as she touched his brand, but said nothing about its presence. “All

  your life, I have watched you. Your mama always say that you react without

  thought. You feel too deep. Mourn too great. But one day, Ambrosius, you will

  see that you and your friend are not so different. That there is much of you

  inside him.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t walk out on my friends,

  and I damn sure don’t hurt them.”

  She indicated the flowers with a wave of her hand. “He didn’t walk out.

  He was here when the devil unleashed his wrath on us. Acheron saved my life

  and those of many others. He brought food to us when we had nothing to

  eat and kept your home from being burned. Don’t judge him by one bad act

  when he has done so many good ones.”

  Nick didn’t want to forgive Ash. Not after all that had happened, but

  in spite of his anger, he felt his heart softening at the knowledge that Ash

  had been here—that he hadn’t abandoned the city. “Why are you calling me

  Ambrosius?”

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  “Because that is what you are now. Immortal.” She touched the bite mark

  on his neck. “My Nicky has gone. Buried by emotions so great they mock the

  depth of the ocean. Can you tell me if my boy will ever come home again?”

  Nick wanted to curse at her. He wanted to shout, but in the end he felt like

  a lost child who only craved his mother’s touch. A deep-seated sob escaped,

  and before he could stop it, he did what he hadn’t done since the night he’d

  found his mother dead.

  He cried. All he wanted was for the unrelenting pain inside him to stop.

  He wanted time to go back to the way it’d been before when his mother had

  been alive and Ash had been his friend.

  But how could it? So much had changed…

  Menyara pulled him into her arms and held him close. She didn’t speak.

  But her touch soothed him even more than words could.

  She pressed her lips to the top of his head and gave a light kiss. “You were

  a good boy, Ambrosius. Cherise still believes in you and so do I. She say for

  you to let go of your anger. Be happy again.”

  He pulled back with a curse at her words that reminded him of some-

  thing his mother would say. “How can I let everything go while my mother

  is dead?”

  “How can you not?” she insisted. “It was your mother’s time to leave this

  world. She is happier now that she can watch over you and—“

  “Don’t say that to me,” he said from between clenched teeth. “I hate it

  when people say that shit. She’s not happier. How could she be?”

  Menyara shook her head. “Then go from this place and don’t taint her

  peace with your hatred. It doesn’t belong here. Your mother deserves better

  than that from you.”

  He opened his mouth to speak.

  “I don’t want to hear it and neither does your poor mother, God rest her

  soul. You go on now and get out of here. Don’t come back until you get your

  head on straight and think of someone other than yourself. You hear me?”

  Nick narrowed his eyes. He’d argue with her, but he knew her better than

  that. There was no talking to Menyara when she was in a mood like this.

  Disgusted with the whole thing, he turned and left with no real desti-

  nation in mind. He merely slinked off toward Conti. The streets were eerily

  familiar and at the same time they were so empty. This time of year, there

  should have been tons of tourists about. Shopkeepers should have been hos-

  ing off the balconies and streets.

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  Instead there were orange barrels and construction sites all around. The

  sound of jackhammers had replaced that of morning jazz and beeping horns.

  Pain infiltrated every particle of his body...

  Until he crossed over to Acme Oyster House on Iberville. God, how many

  times had he eaten here? How many laughs and beers had he shared with his

  mother and friends?

  It looked the same, only fresher from reconstruction. He stood beside the

  window, watching the waiters take orders and people chat, until his gaze fell

  to the table near the back.

  His heart stopped beating. It was Kyrian Hunter and his wife with their

  daughter Marissa and a baby boy Nick had never seen before. They were

  laughing and chatting with other people Nick had called friends, Vane and

  Bride, Julian and Grace. But what absolutely floored him was the fact they

  were at a table with Valerius and Tabitha. Since Tabitha was the twin sister of

  Amanda, that wasn’t the shocker.

  Valerius was what stunned him.

  A mortal enemy of Julian and Kyrian, Valerius’s family had tricked and

  killed Kyrian—then destroyed the people and country the two of them had

  fought and died to protect. For centuries, they had nursed bitter hatred toward

  each other.

  And now Kyrian was handing his son over to a man he’d once sworn to

  decapitate...

  How had this happened?

  “Nick?”

  He jerked at the quiet whisper from behind him. It was Stryker’s half-

  sister, Satara. Tall and dazzling, she was the epitome of feminine
beauty and

  grace.

  He stepped back so that the others couldn’t see him on the street. “What

  are you doing here?”

  “I felt a strange sensation coming from you and I wanted to see what

  caused it.”

  He hated that sharing blood with her allowed her to feel his emotions. It

  was irritating to have someone read him. “Nothing. Go home, Satara.”

  She tilted her head as if looking to see Kyrian and the others inside. “It’s

  interesting, isn’t it? Why Acheron brought them back to life after they’d died,

  but refused to do the same for your beloved mother. I wonder why he chose

  them over her.”

  “I don’t need you to poke that scab.”

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  “True. I’m sure it’s still raw.”

  She had no idea.

  “But,” she said, stepping close enough to whisper in his ear. “Why should

  they be here, living happily while your mother is dead?”

  “Don’t start with me, Satara. That man and his family are all I have left.”

  She cocked her head. “Are they? What do you think they’ll say when they

  find out you’re a Daimon Dark-Hunter? That through you Stryker can see

  and hear all they do?”

  He started away from her, but she pulled him to a stop. Her long nails bit

  into his forearm.

  “The old Voodoo bitch told you that Acheron helped here in New Orleans

  after the hurricane, but did she tell you who his mother is?”

  Nick froze at her words. “Ash has a mother? Alive?”

  She smiled. “Ooo, another secret he kept from you, huh? So much for

  being best friends. Makes you wonder what other things you don’t know,

  doesn’t it?”

  Yes, it did. He snatched his arm from her grasp. “Who is his mother?”

  “The Atlantean goddess, Apollymi. But she’s better known to the immor-

  tal world as the Great Destroyer.”

  “Destroyer?”

  “Yes. For no other reason than she was having a bad hair day, she has

  unleashed unrelenting storms against civilizations for centuries, and she was

  highly upset that night when Desiderius played havoc here in New Orleans.”

  Nick couldn’t breathe as he recalled that night. Desiderius had been Stryk-

  er’s agent, and he had been the one who had killed his mother.

  She leaned in to him to whisper again, “She’s also the mother of my

  brother Stryker. You know him. Leader of the Spathi Daimons. Who do you

  think pulls my brother’s leash? Who do you think controls Stryker’s army?”

  Nick felt rage swell up inside him at all the truths Ash had kept from him

  and the others. “Ash’s mother is the leader of the Daimons?”

  “Yes, she is. Now you know why Ash keeps so many secrets. How would

  it look to all of you to know his beloved mother is the one who controls your

  enemies? That’s why he hasn’t told any of you about the Spathi Daimons such

  as Desiderius. Why Ash will always stay out of such conflicts. He’s not the

  big bad. His mother is. Face it. Ash has been lying to all of you from the very

  beginning. Artemis doesn’t control him. He controls her. She lives in com-

  plete fear of him.”

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  Nick remembered the night he’d killed himself in front of Artemis.

  Satara was right. The goddess had been terrified of Acheron and his reaction

  to Nick’s death. That alone had caused her to reanimate him. Even against

  the rules.

  Still, he couldn’t get Menyara’s words out of his mind. “Menyara has never

  been wrong about anyone.”

  “Menyara has never met a god who can alter someone’s thoughts and

  perceptions. Think about it, Nick. How many times have the Were-Hunters

  tampered with someone’s mind to make them forget they saw something pre-

  ternatural?”

  More times than he could count. “But Ash has always refrained from

  doing that.”

  “That’s what he says. Yet how often do people preach one thing, then do

  another?”

  Again, she was right.

  She leaned against him and rubbed his biceps. “You are blessed with the

  truth. Nothing in the Dark-Hunter world is what it seems. Acheron has duped

  everyone... but you. The question is, are you going to let him continue to get

  away with hurting people for his mother or are you going to stop him? How

  many more people must die because Acheron is a cruel sadistic bastard? It’s

  him or us, Nick. Whose side are you on?”

  His own. To hell with the rest of them. But he didn’t want her to know

  that. Not yet anyway.

  She toyed with his hair. “Stryker has given you the means for vengeance.

  The only question is, are you man enough to take it?”

  He curled his lip at her. “I’m not a man, Satara. I’m an immortal with god

  powers.”

  She inclined her head to him. “And as long as you don’t forget that,

  Acheron is yours.”

  Nick glanced back at the restaurant and the truth pierced him hard. He

  would have gladly sacrificed Kyrian and his family to have his mother back.

  Friendship was one thing. Family was another. Though Kyrian had been like

  a brother to him, he wasn’t blood. Nick had been willing to sell his soul for

  vengeance and he still was.

  “Be true to us, Nick, and we can give you what you want most.”

  Nick sneered at her. “You don’t know what I want.”

  “Yes, I do. You want revenge and you want your mother back.”

  “I can get my own revenge.”

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  “True, and we can give you your mom.”

  What the hell was she talking about now? The bitch was crazy. “Don’t be

  stupid. My mother’s dead. There’s no way back from that.”

  “Isn’t there? You’re here and yet you were once dead.” She snapped her

  fingers. An instant later, a tall dark-haired man appeared beside them. At six

  foot four, Nick wasn’t used to many men who made him crane his neck, but

  this one did. And by the luminescent blue eyes, Nick knew exactly who and

  what this man was.

  A Dream-Hunter.

  Gods of sleep, they were sent from Olympus to help and protect dream-

  ers. And through a pact with Acheron, many of them were sent to aid Dark-

  Hunters. To help them heal, especially when they were asleep, so that they

  could continue to protect mankind from the evil that preyed on them.

  This wasn’t the first Dream-Hunter to approach him. He’d sent M’Adoc

  away as soon as the god had offered to help Nick forget the pain of his moth-

  er’s death. He didn’t want to forget his mother or what had happened.

  Nick jerked his chin toward the newcomer. “I don’t need his help.”

  “Of course you don’t, Nicky. But Kratos can do the one thing even Ache-

  ron can’t do.”

  “And that is?”

  “Bring a soul out of its eternal rest and return it to the land of the living.”

  Nick wasn’t stupid enough to buy what she was selling. “At what price?”

  “An act of loyalty to us. You bring Kyrian’s child Marissa down to Kalosi
s,

  and we will return your mother to this world.”

  Still he was skeptical. “You can’t do that.”

  Satara gave him a smug smile. “Kratos. A demonstration, please.”

  Before Nick could move, the Dream-Hunter touched him. His grip seared

  Nick’s skin, making it burn and crawl as images tore through him. He saw his

  mother in a garden surrounded by roses. Her shoulder-length blond hair was

  glistening in the light while she laughed at a group of children who were play-

  ing around her.

  A tear slid down his cheek as he saw her kind face again. “Mom,” he

  whispered.

  She cocked her head as if she could hear him. “My Nicky,” she breathed. “I

  miss you.”

  “I can take you into the Underworld,” the Dream-Hunter said. “But it

  won’t be easy.” He released Nick and the image of his mother instantly van-

  ished.

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  Nick struggled to breathe. “How do I know I can trust you?”