"Ironic really. Against my wishes, she and her husband were members of the Cult of Pollux." Those were Apollites who believed in doing nothing to circumvent Apollo's curse. They lived peacefully among the humans, waiting to die horribly on their birthdays. Each member of the cult took a vow to harm no human or any other life-form.
"Her husband was killed by the same angry humans who feared his fangs. He tried to distract the humans so that she and their child could get to safety. They beat him down and ripped his heart out of his chest, then they captured her and tortured her for days. They tore her son out of her arms and killed him before her eyes." Indignant rage burned deep inside her. "He was only five years old. And they would have killed her, too, had I not found her in time. It's what made her the warrior she is. She hates all humans for their cruelty, just as I do. They are all animals fit for nothing but slaughter, and I enjoy wholeheartedly playing the butcher."
Stryker understood those sentiments. He'd seen their cruelty firsthand against his people and his children. It was why he had no sympathy for mankind. Why he had no mercy on them. Why should they live in peace while his own people had no future?
But her words confused him as he looked around the stone temple where the walls were decorated with peaceful scenes of women dancing with deer. This was where Artemis's human worshipers still paid tribute to her. "Yet you live here with them?"
"Only a small group. Servants to Artemis who gave us shelter when we needed it. They have watched over us for centuries, and so we let them live."
He scowled. "Why would the goddess do that?"
"Artemis has always been good to us. And in return for her shelter, I do a few odd jobs for her."
"Such as?"
"Killing you."
Humor flickered in his eyes as he drew near her. "Back to that, are we?"
"We will always come back to that."
"Fair enough." He sighed. "Come, Phyra, let's find our daughter." He held his hand out to her.
She curled her lip in repugnance. "You can keep that"-she sneered at his proffered hand-"to yourself."
He tsked at her. "There was a time when you would have kissed my palm with loving tenderness. But in all honesty, I have to say that I'm surprised at you. A clever enemy would kiss my hand, then stab at my back while I was distracted."
She scoffed as she shoved his hand to the side. "A coward's action. Truly. Don't insult either one of us with such a suggestion. I don't believe in petty juvenile attacks. I go after what I want, and when it's the life of an enemy I don't want there to be any mistaking my intention. If you're worth my hatred, then you're worth my letting you know that I'm coming for you."
Stryker smiled at her angry words, grateful to hear them from her. "A true warrior's code." He respected her all the more for it. "Take my hand, Zephyra."
She spat at it.
Unamused, Stryker grabbed her and pulled her close. He wanted to strangle her for her obstinacy. Most of all he wanted to kiss her.
"I'm going to gut you," she warned.
He wiped her spittle off on her shirt even while she slapped at his hand. "So long as you do it naked, you'll have no complaints from me."
"You're a faithless pig." She moved to slap him.
He captured her hand in his and met her challenging glare. "And you are a beautiful shrew. One who should be grateful that I'm nostalgic enough to not do to her what I would to anyone else who spat on me."
Zephyra held her breath as she saw the raw fury in his eyes. He was one step away from hitting her, and though a part of her wanted him to, his restraint surprised her. In the world where they'd been born, a man had a right to beat a woman. Yet he'd refrained from striking her with his hand even in their fight.
Even in the year when they'd been married in ancient Greece, he'd never harmed her. Never lifted a finger against her while he was merciless to others. It was what she'd loved most about him.
He'd made her feel safe. Protected. If anyone had so much as glanced askance at her, Stryker gutted them.
She missed that stupid little boy whose eyes had glowed with love every time he looked at her.
The man before her was formidable. This wasn't a callow youth trying to please her. He was an accomplished warrior with eleven thousand years of survival training behind him. Of commanding an army of the damned that waged war against mankind and the immortal Dark-Hunters who protected them.
Though she'd wanted to kill Stryker many times over the centuries, she'd never been able to get to him until now. All these years, he'd been holed up in Kalosis and the only way in was an invitation from either Stryker or Apollymi.
So long as she served Artemis, Apollymi would have nothing to do with her. And asking him for it would have ruined her surprise attack.
However, his reputation among their people was legendary. The Apollites worshiped him and his band of elite Spathi warriors. Even she respected him for his battles.