Page 3 of One Silent Night (Dark-Hunter 15)
Then all returned to marble. White. Cold. Eerily pristine. War was again asleep and yet Stryker could feel his consciousness rippling in the air around him. War was salivating for release.
"You want out," Stryker whispered to the spirit. "I want revenge against a god I can't touch." He pulled the cork from the vial and lifted it. "From the blood of the Titans to the blood of the Titans, I, Strykerius, return you to form in exchange for one act against my enemies."
He tilted the vial so that the purple blood only marked his fingertip. The feral power of it burned his flesh. Yes, Typhon's blood was as potent as the once-feared god. His eyes narrowing, Stryker wiped the pad of his finger over the lips of the dormant spirit. "Do you accept my terms, War?"
The lips alone turned to flesh. "I accept."
"Then welcome back to the living." Stryker poured the blood into the spirit's mouth.
The moment he did so, a violent shout rang out, extinguishing the torches and drowning them in darkness. "NO!"
Stryker laughed at Hades' indignant cry. It was already too late. A vicious wind cut through the room as War came to life with a battle cry so fierce it echoed through the chamber and caused the caged damned around them to cringe. The torches exploded back to life, flooding the room with so much light that Stryker had to shield his eyes.
Hades appeared with Ares by his side. The gods tried to blast War, but it was futile.
War laughed before he returned their attack. The force of it sent them scattering to the ground like leaves in a storm. The joy in his black eyes said the spirit took great plea sure in his cruelty. His lips twisting into a smile, War turned to face Stryker. "Who do I kill for you?"
"Acheron Parthenopaeus and Nick Gautier."
War sheathed his sword. "Consider it done."
Stryker caught his arm as he started to vanish. "One word of caution, the world isn't what it used to be." He handed the spirit a small messenger bag that contained a pair of black jeans, a black shirt, and boots. "You might want to lose the skirt and armor. Just a thought."
War sneered at him, but in the end, he took the clothes and vanished. Stryker turned toward the gods. Ares had been knocked unconscious while Hades shook his head to clear it.
The dark god of the Underworld glowered his dis plea sure and rage as he stood over Ares, trying to revive him. "Have you any idea of what you've unleashed?"
Stryker was ambivalent to his condemnation. "Cruelty, pestilence, wrath, violence, ultimate suffering . . . what other gifts did the gods bestow on him?"
"You hit the highlights. But before you released him, you should have bothered to learn that he always destroys the one who commands him. You won't be an exception." Hades gestured toward the room. "Look around you. This hole we call Tartarus is all that's left of the primordial god. His death at the hands of War is what caused all the pantheons to combine their powers with the Chthonians' to contain him. And that was back in the day when we were worshiped and held our full powers. We're not that strong anymore."
Well, there was something Stryker hadn't bothered to contemplate. Not that it mattered. He was more than ready to lay down his life-provided he took his enemies with him. "Oops," he said, his voice thick with sarcasm. "Guess I screwed up. Inability to see the consequences of our thoughtless acts must run in the family. So much for my father being a god of prophecy, huh?"
Hades' eyes turned bright red. "He will destroy the humans."
Stryker sneered at him. "I didn't see you standing up to defend the Apollite race when my father cursed us to feed off each other's blood and die painfully when we were only twenty-seven years old because a handful of Apollites had killed his worthless whore. As I recall, all of you turned your backs and left us to the darkness like rats you wanted to forget existed."
Hades shook his head. "I would kill you, but a better fate is to leave you to the thing you just unleashed. I'll see you back here when you're no longer living."
Stryker didn't comment as he watched Hades rouse Ares. Bored with them both, he returned to Kalosis, which was where he'd go after his death. The Atlantean hell realm had been his home since the day he'd turned his back on his father and sided with the goddess who ruled this domain. Apollymi owned his soul. He'd gladly consigned it to her on the day his father had cursed Stryker's entire race for something only a handful of soldiers had done.
Stryker wanted nothing to do with the Greeks ever again.
Bitterly amused by the fact that Apollymi would most likely enjoy his eternal torture even more than Hades, Stryker returned to his office, where he kept the sfora orb that would allow him to spy on his enemy. At least on Acheron.
As for Nick, Stryker could see through his eyes any time he wanted to. It was one of the perks he'd claimed when he bound the bastard to him. Unfortunately, though, there wasn't much to see with Nick, as he'd taken to keeping himself isolated from the world and everyone Stryker wanted to spy on.
He was bored with Nick's moping.
For now, Stryker wanted to see Acheron's demise. Waving his hand over the orb, he watched as the clouds cleared to show him the one god he wanted most to bury . . .
Apollymi's most precious son.
Stryker curled his lip as he found Acheron in a bizarro Norman Rockwell scene. How quaint. Acheron was at home on Katoteros, the Atlantean paradise realm, trimming a Christmas tree with his girlfriend, Soteria. There was something almost twisted about an ancient god humoring a human custom to placate his lover. The two of them looked so happy and sweet it was enough to make him puke.
That was all about to change.
Leaning back in his chair, Stryker waited.
"OOO, AKRI, CAN THE SIMI EAT THAT?"
Ash Parthenopaeus paused as he heard the voice of his demon behind him. Turning around, he saw Simi eyeing the glass angel in his hand.
Dressed in a black-and-red plaid Goth skirt and corset top, Simi had a Santa hat on her head that covered her small demon's horns. Like Ash, her hair was solid black in color and fell all the way to her waist.
Before he could answer, Soteria gave Simi a sweet, tolerant smile that melted him. Her brown hair was pulled forward into two pigtails, and in total contradiction to Ash's dark Goth style, she was dressed in a pair of winter white pants and a red sweater with white reindeer on it. Ash's long-sleeved T-shirt was black with reindeer skeletons pulling a twisted sleigh.
"Um, please, Simi," Soteria said, "don't eat that. That's been my angel on the tree since I was a little girl. I picked it out at a Christmas store in Greece with my parents."
Simi pouted. "Then can I eat the chocolate?"
"Absolutely."
Simi squealed before she grabbed the Hershey's chocolate bar Soteria had left on the coffee table near them and ran off to savor it.
Soteria laughed. "Dang. I was going to share that with you later."
Ash put the angel on top of the tree, which given the fact that he was six foot eight in height was an easy reach for him. "It's okay. I despise the taste of chocolate."
Soteria pulled silver tinsel from the bear ornament in her hand. "I would ask for an explanation, but every time I ask why you have an aversion to something the answer always breaks my heart. So I'll just make sure not to get you any for Valentine's Day."
"Thanks."
Closing the distance between them, Ash pulled her into his arms for a quick kiss. His lips had barely touched hers before a bright flash blinded him. He drew a breath in to chastise his steward, Alexion, for the intrusion, but before he could speak something slammed into him and knocked him off his feet.
Soteria turned to face an intruder. Expecting to find the Greek goddess Artemis there, she was stunned to see a tall, extremely well-built man. The brutality on his face was only matched by its beauty. Dressed all in black, he walked past her as if she were nothing more than a piece of harmless furniture toward Acheron.
She summoned her powers to blast him, but when she tried, she found her powers worthless against him. It was as if she were human again. The blast left her and seemed to be absorbed somehow by his body.
The man seized Acheron from the floor and threw him against the far wall as if he were nothing more than a straw dummy.
Dear God, the man was going to kill Ash!
ASH COULDN'T BREATHE AS HE TRIED TO FIGHT and couldn't. It was as if something had wrapped itself around him like a steel band, paralyzing him. Pain ripped through his body with potent talons. No one had been able to kick his ass this badly since he'd been human.
No sooner had that thought gone through his head than he had crystal clarity of who and what was attacking him.
War. The ultimate warrior.
Shit.
"No!" Ash shouted as Soteria started to attack War at the same time Simi manifested into the room by her side to fight. War would tear the two of them apart. "Take Simi and get out. Now!"
As Simi launched herself toward War, Soteria grabbed her. Tory gave him a look to let him know that she didn't want to stand back, but that she trusted him enough to listen.
Alexion appeared with a sword that he tried to stab through the spirit. Instead, it went through War's flesh and tore into Ash's abdomen. Ash hissed as more agony poured through him.
Alexion's face paled. "I'm so sorry, boss."
He should try being the one with the gaping wound. But Ash wouldn't hold that against his steward. The most important thing right now was to save all their lives. "Go! Take Danger, the demons, and Tory, and get the hell out of here."
War seized him by his throat. Ash choked, trying to remove the tight grip. He met Alexion's gaze. Loyalty gleamed bright, but his friend knew what Ash did. He couldn't fight while distracted.
"I'll meet you at Neratiti." Gathering the women, Alexion disappeared.
Ash pounded at War's hand, trying to knock his grip loose. When that failed, Ash shot a blast at the god that didn't faze him in the least.
"What do you want?" Ash gasped.
War cocked his head in an impersonal gesture as he tightened his grip even more. "Your death."
Ash's ears buzzed as the airflow to his lungs was restricted. He tried to breathe, but it was futile. His grip on the spirit weakened as everything slid to black.
