Acheron paused his hand in mid-strum, then gave him an angry stare. The swirling silver eyes turned red, warning that the destroyer side of Acheron was coming to the forefront.
Alexion didn't care. He'd served Acheron long enough to know his master wouldn't kill him for insubordination. At least none that was this mild. "I know you know everything, boss. I got that a long time ago. But you've also taught me the value of free will. True, Kyros has made some bad choices, but if I go to him as me, I know I can talk him out of this."
"Alexion..."
"C'mon, akri. In over nine thousand years, I have never once asked you for a favor. Never. But I can't just go in and let him die like the others. I have to try. Don't you understand? We were human together. Brothers in arms and in spirit. Our children played together. He died saving my life. I owe him one last chance."
Acheron gave a heavy sigh as he began playing "Every Rose Has Its Thorn." "Fine. Go. But know that as you do this, whatever he decides, it's not your fault. I knew this moment was coming from the day he was created. His choices are his own. You can't accept responsibility for his mistakes."
Alexion understood. "How long do you give me?"
"You know the limits of your existence. You can have no more than ten days before you have to return. At the end of the month, you must render my judgment to them."
Alexion nodded. "Thank you, akri!"
"Don't thank me, Alexion. This is distasteful work I'm sending you to do."
"I know."
Acheron looked up to stare at him. There was something in his swirling silver gaze that was different this time. Something...
He didn't know, but it sent a raw chill over him. "What?" he asked.
"Nothing." Acheron went back to playing the guitar.
Alexion's stomach knotted in apprehension. What did the boss know that he wasn't sharing?
"I really hate it when you don't tell me things."
Acheron gave a lopsided grin at that. "I know."
Alexion stepped back, intending to return to his room, but before he could turn around, he felt himself slipping. One minute he was in the throne room at Katoteros and, in the next, he was lying facedown on a cold, dark street.
Pain slammed into him with resounding waves of agony that took his breath as he felt the rough, pungent asphalt against his face and hands.
As a Shade in Katoteros, he didn't really feel or experience anything this real. Food had no taste, his senses were all muted. But now that Acheron had placed him in the human world...
Ow! Everything hurt. His body, his skin. Most of all his skinned-up knees.
Alexion rolled over and waited for his body to fully transition into his control again. There was always a burn when he came to earth, a brief period for him to get used to breathing and "living" again. As his senses awoke, Alexion realized he could hear people fighting around him. Was it a battle?
Acheron had done that to him a few times in the past. It was sometimes easier to drop him unnoticed into the middle of the chaos. But this didn't look like a war zone. It looked like...
A back street.
Alexion pushed himself to his feet and then froze as he realized what was happening. There were six Daimons and a human fighting in the alley. He tried to focus his sight to be sure, but everything around him was still fuzzy.
"Okay, boss," Alexion said under his breath. "If I need glasses, fix it, 'cause I can hardly see shit right now."
His sight cleared instantly. "Thanks. But you know, a little warning before you dumped my ass out here would have been nice." He straightened his long, white cashmere coat with a tug. "By the way, couldn't you, just once, drop me either in a La-Z-Boy or on a bed?"
All he heard was the sound of Acheron's short, evil laugh in his head. Acheron and his sick sense of humor. He could be one serious bastard when he wanted to. "Thanks a lot." Alexion let out a long, irritated breath.
Turning his attention to the fight, he focused on the group. The human was a short man, probably no taller than five five or five six and appeared to be in his mid-twenties. As the man turned toward him and Alexion saw his face, he realized who he was. Keller Mallory, a Dark-Hunter Squire-one of the people who helped to shield and protect a Dark-Hunter's identity from the humans.
Squires weren't supposed to engage Daimons, but since Squires were integral to the Dark-Hunter world, they were prone to be targeted.
Apparently, tonight was Keller's turn to get his butt kicked.