Nick's breathing intensified.
War slammed him back against the wall three times, trying to crush his windpipe. The plaster of the wall cracked into a spiderweb pattern. War's actions split Nick's lips and the knuckles of the hand he held him by, causing their blood to mix. He tightened his grip, waiting for the light to fade from the man's eyes as he died.
It didn't. Instead, red laced itself through Nick's dark pupils, turning them the color of blood before the red spread through the swirling silver of his irises.
Before War could move, Gautier slammed his hand against his arm, breaking his hold.
Shocked, War stumbled back.
Nick's skin darkened three shades. Panting, he looked at War. "What's happening to me? What'd you do?"
War attacked.
Gautier blocked his punch with his arm, then head-butted War hard. He staggered back as he realized the impossible.
He was about to seriously get his ass kicked.
STRYKER HAD ONLY TAKEN TWO STEPS TOWARD his room with Zephyra to release Medea when a bright light illuminated the hallway. No one should be able to breach the sanctity of this hall without his invitation. . . .
Frowning, he turned to find War, who looked extremely pissed as the spirit appeared before them.
"Is something wrong?" he asked War.
"Is something wrong?" he repeated. "Surely you're not that stupid, are you?"
"Apparently I am, because unless Acheron and Nick are dead, I can think of no reason for your presence here."
War walked slowly toward him, nostrils flaring. "Dead? You fool, are you really so stupid?"
Stryker narrowed his eyes as his anger ignited. "At least I'm not the one wasting time with repetitious insults. Either explain yourself or get out."
"Fine. Let me try this in a manner that even an imbecile can comprehend. When you summoned me, you forgot to tell me a couple of extremely important facts. Acheron isn't just a god. He's Chthonian, protected by another Chthonian and a Charonte army."
Folding his arms over his chest, Stryker let out an agitated breath. Why would that matter to something like War? It was why Stryker had gone to him to begin with. If Acheron wasn't so damned hard to kill, he'd have done it himself centuries ago. "You were created to kill the Chthonians. That shouldn't be a problem for you."
"You should have warned me."
As if that would matter? "Trivial details. I thought you could handle it."
"I can kill him. It will just take more time."
"And?"
"You neglected to tell me about Nick Gautier."
"What about him? He's a Dark-Hunter. A worthless human who sold his soul to Artemis to serve in her army. Surely the great War isn't afraid of the likes of him."
War scoffed. "Dark-Hunter, my ass. Gautier is a Malachai, you stupid son of a bitch."
Stryker bristled under the insult. "A what?"
"Malachai," Zephyra repeated, her tone reverent. "Are you sure?"
War turned his dark gaze on her and nodded. "In all the universe a Malachai is the only thing that can kill me."
Stryker made a sound of disgust deep in his throat. "You've got to be kidding me. I thought you were the most powerful of beings. Even the gods fear you."
"We all have predators," War growled. "The entire universe exists in a system of checks and balances. I just met my zero balance."