Invincible Chronicles of Nick - By Sherrilyn Kenyon Page 0,46

“Did Rosa leave already?”

“About an hour ago. Did you get dinner?”

“Oh yeah. Never had turkey tetrazzini before. It was really good.”

“You want to take some home for your mom?”

Kyrian’s generosity never failed to surprise him. The man was always thinking of other people. Good thing I didn’t stake him when I discovered his fangs. “Can I?”

“Absolutely.”

Nick headed to the kitchen with Kyrian right behind him. As he was pulling out the container and contemplating his employer’s unorthodox existence, a thought struck him. “How do you keep your anonymity in this day and age? Don’t people get suspicious over the fact that you don’t age?”

“Ironically, it’s easier now than in the past. People today don’t want to believe in the paranormal. Back when, you had a serious problem with Bubba and the mob and their pitchforks.”

Nick laughed. “I know you don’t mean Bubba Burdette, but the image in my head … Highly entertaining.”

Kyrian smiled before he continued his explanation. “That’s why Dark-Hunters have human Squires.” Which was what Nick would become once he was old enough to be sworn into the council. They were humans who made it their life’s task to protect their immortal bosses and the world that mankind as a whole wasn’t ready to accept. “With you guys coming and going during the daylight hours, it cuts down on people being curious. Our property is also listed under the Squire’s name.”

“Ah, I get it. So no one knows you exist.”

“Exactly. Rule number one. Be a part of the world, but not in it.”

Nick frowned. “Rule number one?”

“When we’re created and Acheron comes to train us, we’re all given a Dark-Hunter handbook. It has a list of rules we have to abide by, and that’s the first one Acheron teaches us.”

Dark-Hunters with a handbook. Who knew? But then it made sense that they’d have a code of conduct to abide by.

Which made Nick wonder about Kyrian’s past and his experiences. “Has the world changed all that much?”

Kyrian shrugged. “The toys are infinitely better. But people haven’t changed at all. Same concerns, same hang-ups. Different clothes. Different century.”

He made it sound so simple, but Nick had a feeling it was anything but. There was no telling all the changes and marvels Kyrian had lived through. The discovery of electricity, flying, television … toilet paper.

“It must be amazing to live so long.”

“Sometimes.” Kyrian put the container back in the fridge while Nick fastened the lid on his mom’s dish.

“Did you ever have a wife and kids?” Nick asked.

Kyrian hesitated as if the question bothered him. “Had the wife. Wanted the kids.”

Part of Nick told him to keep quiet, but he wanted to understand Kyrian’s strange reaction. “You miss her?”

His eyes darkened angrily. “No offense, I don’t want to talk about her.”

That told Nick much about Kyrian and his relationship with his wife. It made him wonder if she was the one who’d betrayed him and made him become a Dark-Hunter. Man, that had to suck to have your wife betray you, bad enough you’d trade your own soul for vengeance. “Sorry. I won’t mention her ever again.”

Kyrian’s features softened. “Be careful whom you give your heart to, Nick. Make sure when you hand yours off, you get hers in return.”

“Yeah, but how do you know?” Obviously Kyrian had been tricked. How could Nick avoid it when someone as smart and savvy as Kyrian had been taken?

Kyrian sighed. “That’s the trick. People deceive and they lie. The more you have, the more they scheme to take and the more often they try. The world’s an ugly place, and apparently many people think it’s easier and better to take from others than it is to earn it themselves.”

Nick frowned at the bitterness in Kyrian’s voice. “Then why do you fight to protect us?”

Kyrian gave an odd half smile. “Because every time I think that it’s not worth it—that the people in it deserve the misery of their lives—I come across someone who makes me rethink that.”

“Like who?”

He ruffled Nick’s hair as they left the kitchen and went to Kyrian’s Lamborghini. “A smart-mouth Cajun who worships the ground his mother walks on. One who was willing to lay down his life to protect two strangers from his best friends, even though he needed the money to eat. A woman who’s willing to debase herself to feed her son. Another who faced down a drug cartel in order to protect her family and her small town. That kind of love reminds me of the human

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