Trates nodded, then took a step back as if to leave.
"There is a new priority though."
Trates paused to look back at him. "And that is?"
"Kill the Alexion."
Trates looked startled by the order, but he quickly recovered himself. "How?"
A slow smile spread across Stryker's face. "There are two ways. We can either make him kill himself or we let the Charontes do it."
Neither method would be easy. And he could tell by Trates's expression that his second-in-command was weighing both courses of action with equal trepidation.
"How do we get the Charontes to kill him?" Trates asked.
"That's the tricky part, isn't it?"
Stryker considered his options. Unless he could get Apollymi to cooperate with him by allowing one or two of her pets to leave the Atlantean hell realm that made up their home, there was no way to get them to the Alexion. That would be damn near impossible. The Destroyer seldom allowed her Charontes out of Kalosis.
Then again, there were some of the Charontes who held no love whatsoever for the goddess who controlled them. Some who might be willing to do his bidding for a chance to be free...
Trates didn't even acknowledge that option. "How can you make someone kill himself?"
Stryker gave a short laugh at that. "Normally, you would have to destroy their will to live. Or give them a damn good reason to die."
Trates looked even more confused. "What could make an Alexion want to die?"
"Kyriay ypochrosi," Stryker said, using the Atlantean term for "noble obligation." "He is as soulless as the Dark-Hunters he protects. If you inject a strong soul into a Dark-Hunter, it will take him over, but if you inject a weak one..."
"He will hear it begging for mercy."
Stryker nodded. That was the hardest part about turning Daimon and it was one of the reasons why they avoided weak souls. The constant whining for compassion was enough to drive even the strongest of them to madness.
But his people had a slight cushion; they still possessed their own souls that could silence the whine. Alexion and the Dark-Hunters didn't. They had nothing inside to overcome and quell the invading soul.
Nothing to absorb the new life force.
The pathetic cries would incapacitate the Alexion, who would have no choice except to either kill himself to free the soul or condemn that soul to die.
If nothing else, it would be an interesting experiment.
Would the Alexion stand by and let the soul die or would he end his own life to save an innocent?
Danger stood in the hallway of her house, watching Alexion who was in her kitchen. She'd excused herself to go to the bathroom-not that she had to go so much as she just needed a break from the intensity of his presence. And to be alone while she sorted through all the information he'd dumped on her.
She didn't know what to believe and she hated that feeling of insecurity. All her life, she'd prided herself on being able to strip back the bull to see the truth.
But when it came to this...
She didn't know who or what was right. From what she'd seen of Alexion, she didn't doubt that he could kill her if he wanted to; that he could kill all of them. So far, he'd refrained from doing either, which added some credibility to his story that he was there to protect them.
Maybe.
Damn, I really hate indecision.
Should I run to warn the others or stay and keep an eye on him?
There was no easy answer.