"I wouldn't care, but again, you'd have to take it up with the big guy, who might."
She hated whenever Dev made sense. "Is Chi here?"
"Yes. She's in the bar playing a mean game of Ms. Pac-Man on one of the machines in back." He moved closer.
Sam tensed out of habit.
He cupped her cheek in his hand and that comfortable feeling washed over her. His eyes darkened as he studied her face while his breath fell gently against her skin. "Are you really all right?"
No, not when he stood this close to her and made her feel normal. She both loved and hated it. The scent of his skin teased her as she felt an overwhelming need to nip his chin. How could any man be so good-looking?
So sweet and fierce? It was an unbelievable and sexy combination.
He reminded her of all the things she'd given up for this life. All the things that had once meant more to her than anything else.
An image of him holding his own child went through her. Damn, I should never have seen him with his niece. Now that image would haunt her forever. She'd always loved the sight of a man holding a baby or child. It was what had made her fall in love with Ioel. They'd been walking through town when a small peasant child had tripped and fallen into the mud.
Without thinking about his noble station or the expense of his clothes, he'd picked the boy up and quieted him, then carried him home to his mother. Ioel's chiton had been covered with little muddy handprints.
He'd laughed at the sight of them. "It'll wash. Better I be a little dirty than a child be hurt. Clothes can be replaced. Children should always be cherished."
That memory stabbed her hard through her heart. Why did you have to die?
Even after all these centuries she was angry at him for having died on her and leaving her alone in the world. But she knew wherever he was, he was watching over their daughter for her.
Just like he'd promised.
Focus, Sam. She had much more important things to think about than a past she couldn't change. Like why she was suddenly a Daimon magnet.
Were they planning on singling out each Dark-Hunter and taking them to Kalosis one on one to torture and kill them?
Or something worse?
Dev cocked his head as if he was listening to a sound only he could hear. When he looked back at her, he was scowling. "Nick Gautier is downstairs too."
"Nick?" He was the one she'd been moved into New Orleans to guard. Even though he was a Dark-Hunter, he was transitioning into something Acheron wouldn't elaborate on. All they'd been told was that Nick had to be guarded until he learned how to corral his powers. If they allowed the darker elements to get near him, it would corrupt him and they'd have something a lot more dangerous than the Daimons to worry about.
And no way to stop it.
Sam shook her head. "What's he doing here?"
"Don't know. He just head-popped me"--a Were-Hunter slang term that meant Nick had contacted him telepathically--"and said he needs to see you. You want him to come up here or you want to go down?"
Nick's telepathic power made her raise an eyebrow. When Acheron had briefed her on Nick's abilities, that one had been missing. Made her wonder if Acheron knew everything about him or if Nick's powers were growing even faster than their fearless leader knew. Or if it was another case of Acheron withholding pertinent information. "Gautier has telepathy?"
"Either that or I'm hallucinating. I'd hate to think I'm wasting a perfectly good hallucination on Nick Gautier, especially where you're involved."
Sam gave a short laugh at Dev's inability to take anything seriously. "Send him up."
The words had barely left her lips before Nick appeared in front of her. Sam didn't know why but something about the Cajun set her nerves on edge. Even though he'd never been anything but cordial to her, it was like he had a core of evil. Something about him made her nervous. Wary.
Not scared, just tense.
He's not right....
Tall and sinfully gorgeous, Nick was dressed all in black. The one thing that differentiated him from the rest of the Dark-Hunter crew was that where they usually had their bow-and-arrow marks hidden, his was right on his cheek and neck in a way that suggested Artemis had bitch-slapped him when she'd brought him over.
For the merest nanosecond, Sam could swear she saw his eyes flash red before he let out a short, sinister laugh.