It was Apollymi who had shown him the way. She who had taught them to take the souls of humans into their bodies so that they could survive even though his father had damned them all to die at twenty-seven.
"You are my chosen ones," she had told him. "Fight with me and the world shall belong to the Atlantean gods once more."
Since that day, they had recruited their army with care. The three dozen generals who lounged around him in the "banquet" hall were the best fighters among them. They all waited for word from their spy as to when the missing heiress would reappear.
She'd been out of their reach all day. But now that the sun had set, she was within reach once more.
Any moment now and they would be free to ran the night and rip her heart out of her.
It was a precious thought Stryker cherished.
The doors to the hall opened and from the darkness outside came Stryker's last surviving son, Urian. Dressed all in black like his father, Urian had long blond hair that he wore in a queue secured by a black leather cord.
His son was more handsome than any other, but then all of their race were beautiful.
Urian's deep blue eyes flashed as he walked with the pride and grace of a lethal predator. When Stryker had first brought his eldest son over, it had been strange to play father to a man who was physically the same age as him, but that aside, they were father and son.
More than that, they were allies.
And Stryker would kill anyone who threatened his child.
"Any word?" he asked his son.
"Not yet. The Were-Hunter said he has lost her scent, but that he will pick her up again."
Stryker nodded. It had been their Were-Hunter spy who had brought the news to them last night of the fight where a group of Daimons had died in the bar.
Normally such a fight would be meaningless to them, but the Were-Hunter had told them that the Daimons had called their victim "the heiress."
Stryker had been searching the earth for her. Five years ago, in Belgium, they had almost killed her, but her bodyguard had sacrificed himself to them and allowed her to escape.
Since then, there had been no sightings of her. No telltale encounters with any of their people. The heiress had proved herself to be every bit as crafty as her mother.
So they had played the game.
Tonight, that game would end. Between the patrols Stryker had out in St. Paul and the Were-Hunter who served him, he was sure she would be found tonight.
He clapped his son on the back. "I want at least twenty of us standing by. There's no way she'll escape us all."
"I'll summon the Illuminati."
Stryker inclined his head in approval. The Illuminati comprised him and his son, as well as thirty others who were the bodyguards of the Destroyer. Each of them had taken a blood oath to his mother to see to it that she would be free of her netherworld so that she could rule the earth once again.
When that day came, they would be the princes of the world. Answerable only to her.
That day was finally upon them.
Wulf didn't know why he was headed for the Inferno tonight, other than he felt a compulsion inside him that wouldn't listen to reason.
He suspected it was from his insane need to feel closer to the woman who haunted his dreams. Even now he could see the beauty of her smile, feel her body welcoming his.
Or better yet, taste her.
Thoughts of her tormented him. They opened up feelings and needs that he had cast aside centuries ago without ever looking back.
Who needed it? Yet there wasn't anything he wanted more than to see her again.
It didn't make sense.