Except for his son.
Pain lacerated his happiness as he tried not to think of how much Urian hated him and why.
But that wasn't the focus of this. He had matters far more pressing than his son's abject hatred over something he couldn't change. "The Dark-Hunters are now acutely aware of our newly acquired powers."
Zephyra growled in anger as she moved away from Medea to stand in front of his chair. "That puts a crimp in our plans. They'll be fortifying now. Rotten bastard scum."
Medea scoffed. "Their protectors are pathetic humans. Since when do we concern ourselves with cattle? I say we feast on them and massacre the Hunters while they sleep."
Ah, her bloodthirsty, fighting spirit made him proud.
But Zephyra shook her head. She knew the same lesson Stryker did. "Don't get cocky, child. Never underestimate a human in survival mode. They can be quite resourceful when cornered. Capable of anything."
Stryker concurred. "The key is to not attack them yet. They'll be looking for it right now. Keep them guessing and eventually, they'll drop their guards. It's just too exhausting for them to stay tense. Not to mention the fact that we're still in the process of converting our army."
Speaking of resourceful and highly aggravating creatures, the demons they had to use to make their people walk in daylight were now hiding from them.
Cowardly bastards. Why couldn't they just lie down and die for them? Not like the demons had anything to live for anyway. They were disgusting and had no real use in the world. He and his people were doing them a favor by slaughtering them so that the ugly buggers would no longer have to look at themselves in the mirror.
Stryker turned his attention back to his daughter. "Once our numbers are strong, we'll..." He paused as her earlier words went through him again and it jarred something in his brain. "Medea...how do the Were-Hunters know about us? Did the demon talk before he exploded?"
"No. I was told there was a Dark-Huntress there who was able to touch his slimy remains and see what happened."
"Really?" Now that was interesting. Stryker fell silent as his mind kicked into high gear. A Huntress with psychometry...That was an extremely rare talent. So rare that he'd never heard of a Dark-Hunter with it before. Oh, this could be a blessing in disguise and then some. "How deep do her powers go?"
"I don't know. Why?"
He met Zephyra's gaze. Like Medea, she was scowling at him. "We need her."
Phyra's eyes darkened with irate suspicion. "What exactly do you need her for?"
He bit back a laugh before he offended her and she attacked him over it. His wife was ever jealous. Not that she had any worries where he was concerned. There was no other woman in the entire universe who was her equal in his eyes. "If she can touch someone or their belongings and pick out secrets, she could very well have the ability to tell us how to capture Apollo. Or better yet, uncover a way to break our curse and free our people."
The new light in her eyes told him that she not only understood but agreed. "I'll get our best on it."
Stryker nodded. If what he suspected was true...they'd not only be able to kill all the Dark-Hunters, but the father of his race.
Then the world would be theirs and nothing could stop them. At long last, he'd make Apollo bleed the same way Apollo had bled him.
And all the Dark-Hunters would die.
By the sword, he would untie the knot. And the Apollites and Daimons would take their place as the rulers of all subspecies--which was everyone.
He couldn't wait.
Sam stifled a yawn as she sat at her computer. She'd posted notes to every Dark-Hunter and Squire message board, loop, Twitter, MySpace, and Facebook account she could think of. Even the sites that on the surface appeared to be role-playing games but in reality were their people hiding in plain sight. She'd been texting and leaving messages for hours, warning her brethren and their employees what was brewing.
The Daimons would be coming for them. And they were pissed off.
On the one hand, she could understand their anger. The Daimons were born as Apollites--a race of superhumans that had been created by the god Apollo. Then, because of the actions of their jealous queen who'd ordered the death of Apollo's human mistress and son, they'd been cursed by him to die horribly at age twenty-seven--the same age his mistress had been when the queen had her killed. Their only hope to live past that date was to start sucking human souls into their bodies, but the problem with that was that souls weren't meant to live in them. As soon as a Daimon took the soul, it started to wither and die and if a Dark-Hunter didn't find and kill a Daimon before that soul expired, it would cease to exist.
Forever.
But on the other hand, having watched the Daimons slaughter her entire family, Sam wanted them completely wiped from the earth. They were disgusting animals with no regard for human life and for that they deserved total extermination. And if it was by her own hands, then all the better.
"You want a war, Stryker...I'm ready to give you one."
Just not until the sun went down. Damn the gods for that restriction on the Dark-Hunters and Daimons alike. For the next few hours, there was nothing she could do except wait.