"Stryker," he breathed, turning to point down at them. "Kill them!"
Susan's jaw went slack at the mention of the Daimon's name. So this was their infamous leader Nick had mentioned. Tall and lean, with short jet-black hair and wearing a pair of black wraparound sunglasses, he didn't look like the other Daimons, who were all blond.
But even so he did make an awe-inspiring sight. An aura of brutal, cold power bled from him. He had a demeanor that said he relished cruelty and that he was here for blood.
Their blood.
Ravyn flashed to human form and summoned clothes as he faced the Daimon with grim features.
"Why would I kill them?" Stryker asked Paul in a bored tone.
Paul's anger melted into a look of confusion. "He's a Dark-Hunter. Death to all Dark-Hunters... right?" There was no mistaking the fear in his voice now.
Stryker nodded. "That is my motto. But today it seems my agenda is a little different." He grabbed Paul by the throat and slung him against the wall, where he held him so high that the shorter man's feet didn't reach the floor.
Paul grabbed Stryker's hand in both of his as his face turned bright red while he struggled to get free.
Stryker's entire face was one of hell wrath. "You lying bastard. You betrayed my trust and you stabbed me in the back. "
"I did no such thing," Paul choked out in sharp sobs. "I-I-I didn't touch you."
"Yes, you did." Stryker pulled him away from the wall, then slammed him back into it again. "When you stabbed Trates, my right hand, my second in command, you in essence stabbed me. Me. And no one stabs at me. Do you understand, you pathetic fool? If I were to let you live after what you've done, I would become weak, ineffectual in the eyes of my men, and that I cannot allow. "
Ravyn took a step up the stairs.
"Halt!" Stryker snapped at him. "This doesn't concern you, Dark-Hunter. You and your woman are free to go."
Ravyn shook his head. "I can't and you know it. Even if he's a lying sack of shit, he's still human, and I took an oath to save the humans from Daimons."
Stryker let out a tired sigh before his face hardened. "Spathis!"
Before they could move, twenty Daimons flashed into the room. Three were by Susan while the rest were on the stairs between Stryker and Ravyn.
Ravyn ran at them only to have them drag him down the stairs to stand by her side.
She didn't even try to fight, since it was obvious the Spathis were more than able to kick their butts and take their names.
Stryker turned to Paul and opened his mouth to expose his fangs. "Before I kill you, I want you to know that the minute the sun sets tonight, I'm turning my warriors loose on every human who has helped you. Every single one, as punishment for your betrayal. No pathetic human slaughters one of my Daimons. Ever."
Paul's eyes were bulging. "No. How can you do this? We were going to combine our men and rule Seattle. We were allies!"
"Are you serious? After you killed Trates? But now I have an even better ally than you."
Without another word, Stryker removed his glasses and then sank his fangs into Paul's throat.
Revolted by the sight, Susan turned her face away and clenched her eyes shut an instant before she heard Paul's painful scream. It rang out through the house and chilled her all the way to her soul. In spite of everything he'd done, she still felt sorry for him. No one deserved to die like this...
She could even hear his feet kicking the wall as he continued to beg for mercy while Ravyn tried to fight his way past the Daimons to help Paul. But it was useless.
Suddenly there was utter silence.
It echoed through the house and set her nerves on edge. Were they next?
There was a sharp thud on the landing above.
Feeling sick, she looked back to see Paul lying on the floor at Stryker's feet as he wiped his forearm across his face to remove Paul's blood from his lips and chin.
Putting his glasses back on, he stepped nonchalantly over the body and walked leisurely down the stairs until he was in front of Ravyn. Stryker smacked his lips with his face twisted as if the taste didn't agree with him. "What a wuss. His pathetic soul barely qualifies as an hors d'oeuvre."