Kat snorted. "Five years ago I didn't think vampires were real. You've shown me differently. Honey, given your freaky life, I would say most anything is possible."
True. "Yeah, but I've never heard of anyone who could do this."
"I don't know. Remember that thing we saw online about the Dream-Hunters earlier today? They can infiltrate dreams. You think they could have had something to do with this?"
"I don't know. Maybe. But the Dream-Hunter.com site said that they infiltrated dreams themselves. It didn't have anything on there about them putting two people together in a dream."
"Yeah, but if they are sleep gods, it only stands to reason they could put two people together in their own domain."
"What are you saying, Kat?"
"I'm just saying maybe you know Wulf better than you think you do. Maybe every dream you've had with him has been real."
Wulf had no real destination in mind as he drove through St. Paul. All he could focus on was Cassandra and the betrayal he felt.
"It figures," he snarled. All this time and he had finally found an eligible woman to remember him only to have her turn out to be an Apollite-the only kind of woman who was completely taboo for him to interact with.
"I'm such an idiot."
His phone rang. Wulf picked it up and answered it.
"What happened?"
He flinched as he heard Acheron Parthenopaeus's thickly accented voice on the other end. Anytime Ash became really angry, he reverted to his Atlantean accent.
Wulf decided to play ignorant. "What?"
"I just got a call from Dante about the attack tonight in his club. What exactly went down?"
Wulf let out a tired breath. "I don't know. A bolt-hole opened and a group of Daimons came out. The leader of them had black hair, by the way. I didn't think that was possible."
"It's not his natural hair color. Trust me. Stryker discovered L'Oreal a while back."
Wulf pulled off the road as that tidbit went through him like a hot-bladed knife. "You know this guy?"
Acheron didn't respond. "I need you and Corbin to pull back from Stryker and his men."
There was something in Acheron's tone that made Wulf's blood run cold. If he didn't know better, he'd swear he heard real warning there. "He's just a Daimon, Ash."
"No he's not and he doesn't come out to feed like the others."
"What do you mean?"
"It's a long story. Look, I can't leave New Orleans right now. I've got enough shit to deal with down here, which is probably why Stryker is pulling his crap now. He knows I'm distracted."
"Yeah, well, don't worry about it. I've never met a Daimon yet I couldn't take."
Acheron made a noise of disagreement. "Guess again, little brother. You just met one, and trust me, he's not like any you've ever met before. He makes Desiderius look like a pet hamster."
Wulf sat back in his seat as traffic raced by him. There was definitely something more to this than Acheron was spilling. Of course, the man was good at that. Acheron kept secrets from all the Dark-Hunters and never revealed any personal information about himself.
Enigmatic, cocky, and powerful, Acheron was the oldest of the Dark-Hunters and the one they all turned to for information and advice. For two thousand years, Acheron had fought the Daimons all alone without any other Dark-Hunters. Hell, the man had been around since before the Daimons had even been created.
Ash knew things they could only guess at. And right now, Wulf needed some answers.
"How come you know so much about this one when you didn't know much about Desiderius?" Wulf asked.
As expected, Ash didn't answer. "The panthers said you were with a woman tonight. Cassandra Peters."