Kyrian walked down the hallway and opened the door to his office. Nick sat at the antique mahogany desk with his back to him. The black leather reclining office chair squeaked as Nick shifted in the seat while his fingers flew over the keys of the computer keyboard.
It was a familiar sight.
On the Internet, Nick was a demigod, which in hacker terminology meant he could pretty much infiltrate anything, no matter how secure the server. Because of that, Nick, Chris Eriksson, and Daphne Addams had been relegated to designing, maintaining, and securing the Dark-Hunter.com Web site where the Dark-Hunters and Squires kept all their records and communicated with each other.
It was nice to know Nick was picking up something other than women of questionable morals at school.
"So what had you barging into my room?"
Nick glanced over his shoulder with a devilish grin. "Man, you got laid. It's about time."
"Knock it off."
Snorting, Nick turned his attention back to his instant message. "You're the only man I know who can have sex with a woman who looks that good and be in this bad a mood ten minutes later. Damn, didn't you know sex is supposed to make you feel better?"
Kyrian rolled his eyes at his impudent Squire. Rules and regulations had never applied to Nick Gautier. Nor had the boy ever been intimidated by him. Not even on the night he had learned what Kyrian was.
"Nick..." he warned.
Nick opened a small window on the computer and read the message. "Okay, okay. Here's the deal from the Oracles:
"Of Apollite birth and of Daimon born, he is the one who will make you mourn.
"Through the wine god's blood and bath, he exists as pure wrath.
"To bring him under final control, you must find the Dark-Hunter with a soul."
Kyrian frowned at the riddle, which was the typical garbage given to them by the Oracles. Gods, how he hated them. Just once, couldn't they actually come out and say it in plain, simple language?
Oh no. Zeus forbid, the Oracles should actually help them protect the humans.
"What the hell does that mean?" he asked Nick.
Nick swung around in the chair to face him. "Acheron interpreted it to say that only a Dark-Hunter with a soul can kill Desiderius. That's why no one has ever succeeded against him. It's simple prophecy, and you know how that works."
"There's no such thing as a Dark-Hunter with a soul. Not a full soul, anyway."
"Then according to the Oracles and Ash, Desiderius can never be killed."
Kyrian let out a slow breath. "That is not what I wanted to hear this morning."
"Yeah, and all I have to say is I'm damned glad I'm not in your boots on this one." Nick frowned. "Your eyes are green. What happened?"
"Nothing."
Nick tilted his head and gave him a suspicious stare. "Something's up." He reached for his cell phone. "Do I need to call Ash again?"
Kyrian took the phone from his hand and glared murderously at him. "Leave Acheron out of this. I can handle it."
"Yeah, you'd better. You get on my last nerve, but I'd hate to break in another Dark-Hunter."
Kyrian snorted at him. "What is that? A declaration of love?"
"It's one of loyalty. I don't want to see you go down like Streigar did."
The thought sobered Kyrian. Streigar had been a fierce Dark-Hunter who had been trapped by vampire-hunting humans who exposed him to daylight. His death had upset all of them, Dark-Hunter and Squire alike.
"Don't worry," he assured Nick, "I'm not going to be a dawn-surfer. I can handle myself."