The expression on Kessar’s face was one of barely restrained murder. “How so?”
“The children…”
“Turned gallu.”
Namtar shook his head slowly. “No, my lord. They appear to be immune to gallu bites.”
Nala wasn’t sure which of them was the most stunned by that disclosure. “Pardon?” she gasped before she could think better of it.
Namtar cut his handsome gaze in her direction. “They are not completely Greek. Nor can they be completely vrykolakas-kynigos. They appear to be something else. We’re not sure what.”
Now there was a word she hadn’t heard in a long time. It was the original term for her species that the Greeks had used.
Ignoring her question, Kessar stepped forward. The red in his eyes intensified as he raked a sneer over her. “What information have you withheld from us about your champion?”
She swallowed hard. “None… I swear!”
Kessar refused to believe her denial. It was too convenient. How could she not know? These were members of her tribe, born into it. Had lived with her for years after their father ran off. Their mother was her primary champion.
Surely Nala knew who and what she’d harbored amongst her people?
Pissed, and cursing under his breath about how he should have left her and her Amazon tribe to rot, Kessar headed from his small throne room to the cell where he’d tossed Seraphina’s children. Since the gallu were being hunted by the Daimons who were preying on them and using their blood and souls so that the Daimons could walk in daylight, they’d been driven underground and into virtual extinction.
For the last few years, Kessar and his handful of loyal demons had played a deadly game of hide-and-seek with their former allies. And all because of a “small” falling-out he and Stryker had had over who to kill when and how. And the fact that Stryker had taken issue over Kessar going after his wife, daughter… and, well, him.
Though why it would bother the Daimon, Kessar couldn’t fathom. That was what happened in war. Goals changed. Borders shifted. Battles were won and lost, and new ground gained, while some was lost.
It happened and should be expected. As a commander, Stryker should know that as well as anyone.
In the end, friends and allies didn’t matter. Only your cause did.
Your allegiance.
But sadly, their alliance against the Olympians had dissolved after Stryker had awakened the Greek god War, and the ancient trouble-making entity had turned them against each other. They were no longer unified or after the same things. With one particularly bad night, they’d turned on each other and had splintered.
That was the problem with friends.
When the time came, and it always did, for the friendship to dissolve, those friends turned to enemies. And they knew the best place to strike to cripple you.
Yet now the tables were turning. When Stryker had allowed the Dark-Hunters to place the Sumerian amulet around Apollo’s neck and temporarily drain the god’s powers, he’d unknowingly opened a door for Kessar to slip in.
And brought to Kessar a whole new group of allies to play with and feast upon.
Just like Stryker, Kessar knew exactly how and where to make the coup de grâce against the Daimons who’d turned on his gallu brethren. And he wouldn’t hesitate to take it. An eye for an eye. Throat for a throat.
Testicle for testicle.
It wasn’t in the nature of his species to let any slight go. The gallu had been bred as the final “fuck you” of their ancient gods to destroy the world should the world destroy them. Knowing that, Stryker should never have turned on them and declared them a food source for his people.
That was the ground the Daimon was going to be buried upon.
At least that was Kessar’s thought as he opened the door to the cell where the young Were-Hunters had been chained. He’d expected to find both of them where he’d left them.
Instead, the sight of the smoking remains of three headless gallu greeted him. Stunned by the sight, he cocked one regal brow. The chains that had held the young dragons had been ripped from the walls and the metriazo collars that he himself had placed around their necks to block their magick and keep them tame were laying in pieces on the ground at his feet.
“What the hell?” he asked slowly.
There was no sign of either young adult dragon. Gaping to the point he exposed his fangs, he turned toward the Amazon queen.