Dream Warrior (16 page)

Ash shrugged. “We all choose our destinies. Our birth doesn't dictate our future unless we allow it.”

Jericho rolled his eyes at the laissez-faire attitude. “How naive can one god be?”

Tory smiled indulgently. “Acheron is the Harbinger for the Atlantean Destroyer. Prophecy said he would be the one to destroy the world, and yet he's one of its fiercest protectors. Even though he was conceived to be the tool his mother would use for annihilation, he's never once given in to his destiny.” She looked down at him and shook her head. “And the gods know he's had more cause to wish the world to end than anyone else I know.”

Acheron kissed her hand. “So you see, I know a thing or two about training a destroyer and teaching him how to fight his natural urges. We're only in trouble if we leave the Malachai on his own and then Noir gets his hands on him.”

Jericho still had his doubts about that. “So say you. You have no way of knowing if, once he's trained, he'll follow you or Noir.”

“True. But then again, you're here when just a few hours ago you were willing to fight to the death at Noir's side.”

“The bastard betrayed and attacked me. No one turns me into a mindless supplicant. He should have known better than to try.”

“And I believe when the time comes, Nick will make the same decision. He might hate me, but he doesn't follow anyone too blindly.”

Since Jericho didn't know the Malachai personally, he wasn't willing to put that much faith in him. “Do you know that for sure?”

“Call me optimistic, but I'm going to say yes.” Ash held his hand out to indicate the chairs behind them. “To quote my wife, cop a squat. We need to figure out a way to rescue the Oneroi and Skoti before Noir turns them into gallu.”

Delphine went cold at the thought. If that were to happen …

Mankind would be completely doomed.

“Do you think we can free Jaden, too?” she asked as she sat down on the couch next to Jericho. Phobos sat on the other side of her.

Acheron shook his head. “Unfortunately, Jaden's lost to us, but he's still an ally when he can be.”

Tory frowned as she continued to stand behind Acheron. “What about Jared?”

Delphine duplicated the expression. “Who's Jared?”

Ash's answer amazed her. “The last Sephiroth.” The Sephirii had been created to fight Noir and his army of Malachai back in the time before man and recorded history.

Delphine was extremely confused. “I thought after Noir and the Source had their war that all of the Malachai and Sephirii were put down.”

“They were,” Ash explained. “All except for the one Sephiroth who betrayed his brethren. He was damned to an eternity of slavery. Since the universe is real big on balance, one Malachai was spared to rain death on the Sephiroth should he ever go free. That Malachai still holds all the power needed to realign the entire universe that would put Noir at the top of the food chain.”

Jericho glanced at Delphine before he turned back to Acheron. “Why is the Malachai not with Noir?”

“Nick's father had a break with him. No one knows why. Centuries ago, the elder Malachai went into hiding with Noir and Azura chasing him every step of the way. A couple of decades ago, he decided to lay an egg and our current Malachai was born. As soon as Nick reached an age to replace his father, the old Malachai died.”

Delphine still didn't quite understand. “So why has Noir been unable to find this Nick?”

“Nick's powers were bound to protect and shield him from Noir and give him a chance to be turned from his original purpose. It wasn't until a Source god attacked him that those powers were unlocked so that he could defend himself. I've been attempting to train him ever since.”

Tory gave a scoffing laugh. “‘Attempting' is right.”

Jericho narrowed his gaze as he honed in on that one word and its implications. The last thing they needed was a trained Malachai at their throats. “He's resistant to it?”

Ash shook his head. “Not to the training or his destiny. The problem is, he hates my guts. It's a personal problem we have to resolve.”

Tory let out an undignified snort. “They're working on it … slowly.”

“Great.” Jericho sighed. “So where does that leave us with the Sephiroth?”

“Well, the biggest problem is his current master just happens to be the Daimon queen. Since I and my Dark-Hunter brethren hunt and execute her Daimons, she's not really inclined to be on our side or do us any favors. But who knows? We might catch her on a really good day.”

Yeah, right. “Not bloody likely.”

“My thoughts, too.”

Delphine let out a tired breath. “We're completely ruined. My brethren are in the hands of evil, about to be turned into mindless predators, and the only hope we have is an untrained Malachai who might leave us to fight for them and a Sephiroth in the hands of the Daimons.”

Daimons were a vampiric race who lived by stealing and destroying human souls. Best of all, they adamantly hated the Greek gods since Apollo was the one who'd cursed them to drink blood and die painfully and horribly at the age of twenty-seven. The only way to survive beyond that was to take human souls.

As a result, the Daimons weren't big on helping anyone except themselves. Not that she blamed them. They had been royally screwed by her pantheon.

Delphine was ill with their predicament. “It's not a good day to be human, is it?”

“It's not a good day to be us, either,” Phobos added sarcastically.

Delphine couldn't agree more. “You think Noir will team up with the Daimons?”

Ash shook his head. “Stryker, while screwed up, won't fight with them. They have no code. Stryker and his people aren't fighting to kill, they're fighting to survive. We're lucky in that. He only allows his people to take the lives they need to … and that of any Dark-Hunter they can find since we're his biggest predators. While I'm sure he wouldn't shirk at world domination, his priority is the survival of his people. Noir, on the other hand, kills for pleasure and wants to overthrow
all
pantheons and take over. Neither Stryker nor his wife are big into following other people. They will fight him until they're dead.”

Jericho scratched his cheek. “Maybe we ought to let the two of them fight it out.”

Phobos snorted. “That's got pay-per-view all over it. Unfortunately, we'd get caught in the crossfire.”

“I still think they might team up with Noir,” Delphine insisted. It would make sense. The Daimons could take the humans while the gallu took the rest of them.

“No,” Ash said adamantly. “I know Stryker, and besides, the gallu
were
with him up until a few months ago when they tried to eat him, his wife and his daughter. Being the most unforgiving of souls, he's not going to welcome them in any time soon. As a result, the Daimons are having open season on them. For now, we're safe in terms of
that.
”

Jericho still wasn't fully convinced. “But screwed in terms of everything else.”

“Not entirely.” Ash looked at Phobos. “How many of your people do you have left?”

“Couple dozen … maybe.”

Ash nodded thoughtfully. “We can work with that.”

“What about the gallu?” Jericho asked.

“I can get the Charonte to help with them. It just leaves one thing…”

“The Sephiroth,” Jericho said. Even though he was a Source god, Jericho couldn't handle Azura, Noir, the Skoti,
and
the gallu alone. They needed help. “I think we need to talk to the Daimons.”

Ash inclined his head. “I couldn't agree more.”

CHAPTER 9

Jericho was descending into hell. Well, more like an Atlantean hell realm called Kalosis, but still … why argue tit for tat?

Hell was hell, no matter the pantheon.

Delphine had stayed behind with Phobos, after much argument. But Acheron had agreed that the fewer people asking, the better chance they would have.

Stryker and his wife, Zephyra, would respect a single emissary. Two or more, they might consider lunch.

Tory led Jericho down a black marble hallway holding a light stick over her head. It reflected off the walls with an eerie luminescence that would be haunting if he were human. As it was, he found their distorted images fascinating.

They were heading toward Stryker's reception hall.

Since Acheron couldn't come here without starting the apocalypse, Tory had volunteered to guide Jericho and make the introductions. Apparently part of Acheron's duties as Harbinger was to release his mother from her prison … which happened to be the realm they were in.

If Acheron so much as made a tiny appearance here, his mother would go free and destroy the world, so he could never see her.

Would have been tragic if Jericho were capable of feeling sympathy for someone else. He could appreciate it, but frankly, he didn't care.

Tory smiled at him. “It's really noble of you to risk so much for the Oneroi.”

Jericho snorted. “I don't give two shits about the Oneroi. My plan was to fight against them with Noir, but he decided it would be easier to sic the gallu on me and control me that way. He declared this war, and I'll be damned if I'm going to let the gallu attack me in my sleep. I've spent enough of my life with other people in control of me. I won't spend one more moment that way. Noir wants a fight, I'm going to give him one. And I will not lose.”

Tory let out a slow breath. “I forgot you're the son of Styx and Pallas.”

He inclined his head to her. “Yeah, and I'm full of both their venom. Don't start no shit, won't be no shit. My goal is to get the Oneroi and Skoti back on their feet, and then take out the gallu as quickly as possible. After that, it's open season on the Olympians.”

“Does that include Delphine?”

He saw red at the mention of her name. Delphine was something he had no intention of discussing with anyone. “She's none of your business.”

Tory gave him a placating look. “Sorry. I wasn't trying to offend or pry. I was just pointing out that you seem to care for her.”

Yeah, but the problem was he didn't understand why. One touch, one whisper and he was undone by her.

Why Delphine, when no one else had ever made him feel like this? What was it about her that cut through his anger and made him feel …

Warm.

Human.

Whole.

In all these centuries, he'd never felt like he did whenever she touched him. She held more power in a single caress than any entity he'd ever known.

She alone had the power to bring him to his knees.

Unwilling to think about it, he changed the subject. “How is it you're able to come and go from this realm?” It seemed odd that Stryker would tolerate her here.

“My mother-in-law gave me total freedom to visit her whenever the urge strikes me, especially since Ash can't come. While Stryker might want to bind me in chains and feed me to his Daimons, he wouldn't dare. Apollymi can be a little hard to defeat.”

“And yet Apollymi tolerates you?”

She smiled. “She hates humans, but adores her son. There's nothing she wouldn't do for Acheron.”

“Except leave the humans alone.”

“Well, there is that.” She walked down the glistening hallway with one hand on the wall. “I know it doesn't make sense. But she declared war on the humans and refuses to back off. However, Ash and anyone he loves is supposed to be immune from the Daimons she controls.”

There was a note in her voice that set off Jericho's alarms. “Supposed to be?”

Her expression turned dark and sad, letting him know that she felt deeply for all involved. “Nick's mother was very close to Ash. She died from a Daimon attack a few years ago, which is why Ash and Nick are now at war with each other. Nick blames Ash for it and won't let it go. It's very sad, really, and breaks my heart to see them fight. But I'm told they're getting better, which concerns me. If what they have now is better, I'd hate to see worse.” She drew up short as a blond woman cut off their path.

Petite and lithe, and dressed in a black leather cat-suit and corset, the woman narrowed a vicious glare at them. “What are you doing here snooping around, Tory?”

Instead of reacting to the woman's angry tone, Tory cocked her head. “I didn't think I was snooping. It didn't feel like a snoop. I have snooped before and can honestly say this isn't it.”

The woman glared at her.

“Relax, Medea,” she said in a calm, even tone. “We've come to see your mother.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Your funeral.”

Tory smiled good-naturedly. “It's always so good to see you, too. You're just such a ray of happy sunshine. I so look forward to all our interactions.”

Medea sneered at her. “You should be glad you helped save my life. It's the only reason you're alive right now.”

Tory snorted. “And my living has nothing to do with the fact that you'd be toast if you touched me, right?”

The glare Medea cast at her should have been lethal.

Jericho didn't speak as they followed Medea into an empty office. Decorated in dark golds and burgundy, it was obviously designed to intimidate. Not that it worked on him. There wasn't much that intimidated him.

Or more to the point, there was
nothing
that intimidated him.

Medea paused in the doorway. “Wait here. I'll get her.” She shut the door and locked it, which seemed ridiculous given the fact that they could pop out of here at any minute. But far be it from him to point out the obvious.

As soon as they were alone, he faced Tory. “I take it Zephyra is her mother?”

She nodded.

“You think we stand a chance with this?”

Tory shrugged as she looked around. “We won't know until we talk to her. I think she might, and I use that word with all applicable optimism, help us.”