Kiss Of The Night

Cassandra was so angry that she didn't know what to do. Actually, she did. But that involved having Wulf tied up in a room and her having a very large broom in her hands to beat him with.

Or better yet, a stick with thorns!

Unfortunately, it would take more than her and Kat to tie up the obnoxious oaf.

As Kat drove her back to her apartment, she fought against screaming and railing at the imbecile who had all the compassion of a leek pea.

She hadn't realized just how much she had opened herself up to the Wulf of her dreams. How much of herself she had given to him. She had never been the kind of woman to trust anyone, least of all a man. Yet she had welcomed him into her heart and body.

How much more-

She paused her silent tirade as her thoughts shifted.

Wait...

He remembered their dreams too.

He had accused her of trying to-

"Why didn't I think of that while we were at the club?" Cassandra asked out loud.

"Think of what?"

She looked over at Kat, whose face was illuminated by the light of the dashboard. "Do you remember what Wulf said in the bar? He remembered me from his dreams and I remember him from mine. Do you think our dreams could be real?"

"Wulf was at the bar?" Kat asked as she frowned at Cassandra. "The Dark-Hunter you've been dreaming about was there tonight? When?"

"Didn't you see him?" Cassandra countered. "He came right up to us after the fight and yelled at me for being an Apollite."

"The only person who came right up to us was the Daimon."

Cassandra opened her mouth to correct her, then remembered what Wulf had said about people forgetting him. Good grief, whatever it was had made her bodyguard completely forget him too.

"Okay," she said, trying again. "Forget about Wulf being there and let's go back to the other question. Do you think the dreams I've been having could be real? Maybe some kind of alternate consciousness or something?"

Kat snorted. "Five years ago I didn't think vampires were real. You've shown me differently. Honey, given your freaky life, I would say most anything is possible."

True. "Yeah, but I've never heard of anyone who could do this."

"I don't know. Remember that thing we saw online about the Dream-Hunters earlier today? They can infiltrate dreams. You think they could have had something to do with this?"

"I don't know. Maybe. But the Dream-Hunter.com site said that they infiltrated dreams themselves. It didn't have anything on there about them putting two people together in a dream."

"Yeah, but if they are sleep gods, it only stands to reason they could put two people together in their own domain."

"What are you saying, Kat?"

"I'm just saying maybe you know Wulf better than you think you do. Maybe every dream you've had with him has been real."

Wulf had no real destination in mind as he drove through St. Paul. All he could focus on was Cassandra and the betrayal he felt.

"It figures," he snarled. All this time and he had finally found an eligible woman to remember him only to have her turn out to be an Apollite-the only kind of woman who was completely taboo for him to interact with.

"I'm such an idiot."

His phone rang. Wulf picked it up and answered it.

"What happened?"

He flinched as he heard Acheron Parthenopaeus's thickly accented voice on the other end. Anytime Ash became really angry, he reverted to his Atlantean accent.

Wulf decided to play ignorant. "What?"

"I just got a call from Dante about the attack tonight in his club. What exactly went down?"

Wulf let out a tired breath. "I don't know. A bolt-hole opened and a group of Daimons came out. The leader of them had black hair, by the way. I didn't think that was possible."

"It's not his natural hair color. Trust me. Stryker discovered L'Oreal a while back."

Wulf pulled off the road as that tidbit went through him like a hot-bladed knife. "You know this guy?"

Acheron didn't respond. "I need you and Corbin to pull back from Stryker and his men."

There was something in Acheron's tone that made Wulf's blood run cold. If he didn't know better, he'd swear he heard real warning there. "He's just a Daimon, Ash."

"No he's not and he doesn't come out to feed like the others."

"What do you mean?"

"It's a long story. Look, I can't leave New Orleans right now. I've got enough shit to deal with down here, which is probably why Stryker is pulling his crap now. He knows I'm distracted."

"Yeah, well, don't worry about it. I've never met a Daimon yet I couldn't take."

Acheron made a noise of disagreement. "Guess again, little brother. You just met one, and trust me, he's not like any you've ever met before. He makes Desiderius look like a pet hamster."

Wulf sat back in his seat as traffic raced by him. There was definitely something more to this than Acheron was spilling. Of course, the man was good at that. Acheron kept secrets from all the Dark-Hunters and never revealed any personal information about himself.

Enigmatic, cocky, and powerful, Acheron was the oldest of the Dark-Hunters and the one they all turned to for information and advice. For two thousand years, Acheron had fought the Daimons all alone without any other Dark-Hunters. Hell, the man had been around since before the Daimons had even been created.

Ash knew things they could only guess at. And right now, Wulf needed some answers.

"How come you know so much about this one when you didn't know much about Desiderius?" Wulf asked.

As expected, Ash didn't answer. "The panthers said you were with a woman tonight. Cassandra Peters."

"You know her too?"

Again Ash ignored the question. "I need you to protect her."

"Bullshit," Wulf snapped, angered over the fact that he already felt used by her. The last thing he wanted was to give her another shot at messing with his head. He'd never liked anyone toying with him, and after the way Morginne had used and betrayed him, the last thing he needed was another woman out to screw him to get what she wanted. "She's an Apollite."

"I know what she is and she has to be protected at all costs."

"Why?"

To his amazement, Acheron actually answered. "Because she holds the fate of the world in her hands, Wulf. If they kill her, Daimons are going to be the very least of our problems."

This was not what he wanted to hear tonight.

Wulf growled at Ash. "I really hate it when you say things like that." He paused as another thought occurred to him. "If she's so important, why aren't you here guarding her?"

"Mostly because this ain't Buffy and there's not one single Hellmouth to guard. I'm up to my armpits in Armageddon down here in New Orleans and not even I can physically be in two places at once. She's your responsibility, Wulf. Don't let me down."

Against his better judgment, Wulf listened to Ash give him Cassandra's address.

"And Wulf?"

"Yeah?"

"Have you ever noticed that salvation, much like your car keys, is usually found where and when you least expect it?"

He frowned at Ash's esoteric words. The man was really, really strange. "What the hell does that mean?"

"You'll see." Ash hung up.

"I really hate it when he plays Oracle," he said between clenched teeth as he turned his SUV around and headed toward Cassandra's.

This sucked. The last thing he wanted was to be near a woman who had seduced him so completely.

A woman he knew he could never touch in the real flesh. That would be an even bigger mistake than the one he'd already made. She was an Apollite. And for the last twelve hundred years, he had spent his life pursuing her kind and killing them.

And yet the woman called out to him in a way that tore through him.

What was he going to do? How could he uphold his code as a Dark-Hunter and keep away from her when all he really wanted to do was take her into his arms and see if she tasted as good in real life as she had in his dreams...

Kat thoroughly searched the apartment before she allowed Cassandra to lock the door.

"Why are you so nervous?" Cassandra asked. "We defeated the Daimons."

"Maybe," Kat said. "I just keep hearing that guy's voice in my head telling me that it's not over. I think our friends are going to be back. Real soon."

Cassandra's nervousness came back with a vengeance. It had been way too close tonight. The mere fact that Kat had refused to let them fight the Daimons and had opted instead to hide in a corner of the bar told her just how dangerous these men were.

She still wasn't sure why Kat had pulled her away from them.

Neither one of them cowered from anyone or anything.

Not until now.

"So what should we do?" Cassandra asked.

Kat triple-locked the door and pulled the gun from her purse. "Put our heads between our knees and kiss our butts good-bye."

Cassandra was stunned by the unexpected words. "Excuse me?"

"Nothing." Kat offered her an encouraging smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "I'm going to go make a call, okay?"

"Sure."

Cassandra went to her room, and did her best not to relive the night her mother had died. There had been a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach all day long. Just like she had now.

She wasn't safe. No Daimon had ever attacked the way they did tonight.

The Daimons at the club hadn't come out to feed or to play. They had been specially trained and had come out as if they had known exactly where she was.

Who she was.

But how?

Could they find her even now?

Terror filled her. She went to her dresser and pulled open the top drawer. In it was a small arsenal of weapons, including the dagger of her mother's people that had been handed down to her.

She didn't know how many people had a dagger for a security blanket, but then there weren't many people who grew up the way she had either.

She secured the sheath to her waist and hid it at the base of her spine. Her death might be imminent in a few months, but she had no intention of dying one day sooner than she had to.

A knock sounded on her front door.

Cautiously, she left her room and walked into the living room, expecting to see Kat in there curious about their unannounced visitor too.

Kat wasn't there.

"Kat?" she called, taking a step toward Kat's room.

No one answered.

"Kat?"

The knocking continued, more demanding than it had been before.

Scared now, she went to Kat's room and pushed open the door. The room was empty. Completely. There was no sign that Kat had ever been in there.

Her heart hammered. Maybe Kat had gone out to the car for something and gotten locked out?

She went back to the door. "Kat, is that you?"

"Yeah, let me in."

Cassandra laughed nervously at her stupid behavior and swung open the door.

It wasn't Kat outside.

The dark-haired Daimon smiled at her. "Did you miss me, princess?" he said in a voice identical to Kat's.

She couldn't believe this. It couldn't be real. This kind of stuff happened in movies, not in real life.

"What are you, the friggin' Terminator?"

"No," he said calmly in his own voice. "I'm the Harbinger who is merely preparing the way for the Destroyer."

He reached for her.

Cassandra stepped back. He couldn't enter the house without an invitation. Reaching behind her, she pulled out her dagger and sliced his arm.

He drew back with a hiss.

She spun as she saw someone behind her.

It was another Daimon. She caught him in the chest with her dagger.

He evaporated into a golden-black cloud.

Another shadow passed over her.

Spinning around, she kicked Stryker back, but he didn't go completely out the door. Instead, he only blocked it more.

"You're quick," he said as his arm healed instantly before her eyes. "I'll give you that."

"You don't know the half of it."

Daimons came at her from all directions. How the hell had they gotten into her home? But she didn't have time to contemplate that. Right now, all she could focus on was survival.

She kneed the next Daimon who reached her and fought a second one. Stryker stayed back as if the fight amused him.

Another Daimon, this one with a long blond ponytail, attacked. Cassandra flipped him over. As she went to stab him, Stryker came out of nowhere to grab her arm.

"No one attacks Urian."

She shrieked as he wrenched the dagger from her hand. Cassandra moved to strike him, but the instant her gaze met his, all thoughts scattered.

His eyes turned to a strange, swirling silver. They moved in a hypnotic dance that held her spellbound and turned her thoughts to oatmeal.

All the fight inside her instantly vanished. A sly, seductive smile curved Stryker's lips. "See how easy it is when you don't fight?" She felt his breath against her throat.

Some unseen force tilted her head to the side to give him access to her neck and to the throbbing carotid artery she could feel pounding in terror.

Inside, Cassandra was screaming at herself to fight.

Her body refused to obey.

Stryker's laughter rumbled a moment before he sank his long teeth into her neck. She hissed as pain sliced her.

"Am I interrupting?"

Cassandra could only vaguely recognize Wulf's voice through the numbed haze of her mind.

Something jerked Stryker away from her. It was a few seconds before she realized it was Wulf knocking the Daimon back.

Wulf whisked her up into his arms and ran with her. Cassandra could barely keep her head from lolling back as he headed for a large dark green Expedition and tossed her inside it.

The instant Wulf was in the car, something struck it hard. Out of the darkness, a large, black dragon appeared on the hood.

"Let her out and you can live," the dragon said in Stryker's voice.

Wulf answered by putting his SUV in reverse and gunning it. He turned the wheel and sent the beast flying.

The dragon shrieked and blew a blast of fire at them. Wulf kept going. The dragon took flight and dove at them, then arced up, high into the sky, before it vanished into a shimmery cloud of gold.

"What the hell was that?" Wulf asked.

"He's Apostolos," Cassandra murmured as she struggled to snap herself out of her daze. "He's the son of the Atlantean Destroyer and a god in his own right. We're so screwed."

Wulf let out a disgusted sound. "Yeah, well, I don't let anyone screw me until they kiss me, and since there's not even a snowball's chance in hell of me kissing that bastard, we're not screwed."

But as his Expedition was suddenly surrounded by eight Daimons on motorcycles, he reconsidered that.

For three seconds at least.

Wulf laughed as he surveyed the Daimons. "You know the beauty of driving one of these?"

"No."

He swerved his Expedition into three of the bikes and knocked them from the road. "You can swat a Daimon like a mosquito."

"Well, since they're both bloodsucking insects, I say go for it."

Wulf glanced sideways at her. A woman who could keep her humor even in the midst of death. He liked that.

The remaining Daimons must have rethought acting out Mad Max with him and dropped back from his SUV. He watched as they faded out of sight in his rearview mirror.

Cassandra let out a relieved breath as she pushed herself up more in the seat. She turned her head and tried to see where the Daimons had vanished. There was no sight of them.

"What a night," she said quietly as her thoughts cleared and she remembered everything that had happened in the apartment. Once more, panic consumed her as she remembered Kat hadn't shown up. "Wait! We have to go back."

"Why?"

"My bodyguard," she said, gripping his arm. "I don't know what happened to her."

He kept his gaze on the road ahead of them. "Was she in the apartment?"

"Yes... maybe." Cassandra paused while she thought it over. "I'm not exactly sure. She went to make a phone call in her room and then she wasn't in there when I went to see if she'd go with me to the door." She released his arm. Fear and grief warred inside her heart. What if something had happened to Kat after all these years they'd been together? "Do you think they killed her?"

He glanced at her, then changed lanes. "I don't know. Was she the blond woman in the bar?"

"Yes."

He pulled his cell phone off his belt and made a call.

Cassandra chewed her nails as she waited.

She heard someone's faint voice on the phone.

"Hey, Binny," Wulf said. "I need a favor. I just left the Sherwood student apartments over by the University of Minnesota and we may or may not have a casualty there..." He glanced at Cassandra, but his eyes betrayed no clue as to what he was thinking or feeling. "Yeah, I know tonight's been a real freakfest. You don't even know the half of it." He switched hands with the phone.

"What's your friend's name?" he asked Cassandra.

"Kat Agrotera."

He frowned. "Why do I know that name?" He relayed it to whomever he was speaking to.

"Shit," he said after a brief pause. "Do you think they might be related to her?"

Once again, he glanced in Cassandra's direction. Only this time, his scowl was most sinister. "I don't know. Ash told me to guard her and now her bodyguard holds a last name that ties her to Artemis. Could it be a weird coincidence?"

Cassandra cocked her head at that. She'd never before thought about the fact that Kat's last name was also one of the many epithets the ancient Greeks had used for Artemis.

She'd met Kat in Greece after she had fled from Belgium with a load of Daimons hot on her heels. After helping her out in a fight one night, Kat had told her she was an American come to touch base with her Greek heritage that summer.

It had been a bonus that Kat had said she was a martial arts expert with a knack for using explosives. Cassandra had explained to her that she was looking for a new bodyguard to replace her old one and Kat had signed on with her immediately.

"I just love to put a hurt on evil things," Kat had confessed.

Wulf sighed. "I don't know either. Okay. You go look for Kat and I'll take Cassandra home with me. Let me know what you find. Thanks." He hung up, then returned his phone to his belt.

"What did she say?"

He didn't answer her question. Not exactly anyway. "She said Agrotera is one of the Greek names for Artemis. It means 'strength' or 'wild hunter.' Did you know that?"

"Sort of." A drop of hope welled inside her. If that were true, maybe the gods hadn't abandoned her family after all. Maybe there was some hope for her and for her future. "Do you two think Artemis sent Kat to protect me?"

His grip tightened on the steering wheel. "I don't know what to think at this point. I was told by Artemis's mouth-piece that you are the key to the end of the world and that I had to protect you and-"

"What do you mean, 'key to the end of the world'?" she asked, interrupting him.

He looked as surprised as she felt. "You mean you don't know that?"

Okay, so it was obvious Dark-Hunters could get high and delusional.

"No. In fact, I'm thinking right now that one, if not both of us, needs to put down the crack pipe and start this night over."

Wulf gave a light laugh at her comment. "If it wasn't for the fact I can't get high, I might agree with that."

Cassandra's mind raced. Was there any truth to what he had just said? "Well, if you're right and I'm key to the world's destruction, then if I were you I'd be making out a will."

"Why?"

"Because in less than eight months, I turn twenty-seven."

Wulf heard the catch in her voice as she spoke those words and he more than understood the doom she was facing. "You said you were only half-Apollite."

"Yeah, but I've never known a half-Apollite to survive the curse, have you?"

He shook his head. "Only the Were-Hunters seem immune to the Apollite curse."

Cassandra sat silently, watching the traffic out the window while she contemplated what had happened tonight.

"Wait," she said as she remembered the Daimons coming into her apartment. "How did that guy get into my house? I thought Daimons were forbidden to enter your home without an invitation."

Wulf's answer was far from comforting. "Loophole."

"Excuse me?" she asked, arching both brows. "What do you mean, 'loophole'?"

He turned off the expressway onto an exit ramp. "Got to love those gods. The same loophole that allows Daimons to enter malls and public areas allows them to enter condos and apartments."

"How so?"

"Malls, apartments, and such are owned by one entity. When that person or company allows their building to openly serve for multiple groups of people, they essentially put out a cosmic welcome mat to everything, including Daimons."

Oh, this was un-friggin-believable! She blinked in shock. "Now you tell me this? Why didn't someone tell me this before? I thought I was safe all this time."

"Your bodyguard should have known better. If she really is tied to Artemis."

"Then maybe she's not. You know, she could just be a normal person."

"Yeah, one who holds her arms out and scares off Spathi Daimons?"

He had a point there. Sort of. "She said she didn't know why they ran."

"And later she left you there alone to face them..."

Cassandra rubbed her hand over her eyes as she caught his implication. Could Kat be working with the Daimons? Did Artemis want her dead or alive?

"Oh, God, I can't trust anyone, can I?" Cassandra breathed tiredly.

"Welcome to the real world, duchess. The only person any of us can trust is ourselves."

She didn't want to believe that, but after tonight, it seemed to be the only real truth she had.

Could Kat really be a traitor after all they had been through together?

"Lovely, just lovely," she breathed. "Tell me something, can I go back to bed and have this entire day be a do-over?"

He let out a short laugh. "Sorry, no do-overs."

She gave him a peeved glare. "Boy, you're just all chock-full of comfort, aren't you?"

He didn't respond.

Cassandra watched the oncoming cars as she tried to think of what she should do. Where she should even begin to try to understand what had happened tonight.

Wulf drove them out of the city to a massive estate outside of Minnetonka. All the homes in the area were owned by some of the richest people in the country.

Wulf turned into a driveway that was so long, she couldn't see where it ended. Of course the five-foot-high snowbanks didn't help with that.

He pressed a tiny button in his visor.

The iron gates opened wide.

Cassandra let out a slow, appreciative breath as they proceeded down the driveway and she caught sight of his "house." "Palace" would be much more apropos, and given the fact that her father's house wasn't exactly small potatoes, that said a lot.

It looked very turn-of-the-century with large Greek columns and gardens that still appeared sculpted even in the deep winter snow and frost.

He drove them up the winding driveway to a five-car garage that was designed to look like a stable. Inside, it held Chris's Hummer (it was hard to miss his vanity plate, VIKING), two vintage Harleys, a sleek Ferrari, and one really cool Excalibur. The garage was so clean inside that it reminded her of a showroom. Everything from the ornate crown moldings to the marble floor said "wealthy beyond your wildest dreams."

She arched a brow at that. "You've come a long way from your little stone cottage by the fjord. You must have decided riches weren't so bad after all."

Parking the SUV, Wulf turned to face her with a scowl. "You remember that?"

She ran her gaze from the top of his gorgeous head to the toe of his black biker boots. Even though she was still angry at him, she couldn't suppress the warm tingle of sexual awareness she felt at being so close to such a hot man. He really was scrumptious, for an ass.

And speaking of that, he had a mighty fine one of those too.

"I remember all the dreams about us."

His scowl darkened. "Then you really were screwing with my head."

"Hardly!" she snapped, offended by his tone and the accusation. "I didn't have anything to do with it. For all I know, it was you messing with me."

Wulf got out of the truck and slammed the door.

Cassandra followed suit.

"D'Aria!" he shouted up at the ceiling. "Get your butt down here. Now!"

Cassandra was stunned when a light blue mist shimmered beside Wulf and a beautiful young woman appeared. With jet-black hair and pale blue eyes, she looked almost like an angel.

Her face emotionless, D'Aria stared eye to eye with him. "I have been told that that was rude, Wulf. If I had feelings, you would have hurt them."

"I'm sorry," he said contritely. "I didn't mean to be curt, but I needed to ask you something about my dreams."

D'Aria looked from him to Cassandra and it was then Cassandra understood. This was one of the Dream-Hunters she had read about on the Dream-Hunter.com Web site. All of the Dream-Hunters possessed black hair and pale eyes. These Greek gods of sleep had once been cursed by Zeus so that none of them were capable of feeling emotions.

They really were beautiful. Ethereal. And even though D'Aria was solid, there was something about her that was also shimmery. Something that let you know she wasn't as real as everything else in the room.

Cassandra felt a sudden, almost childish impulse to reach out and touch the dream goddess to see if D'Aria was made of flesh or something else.

"You two met in your dreams?" D'Aria asked Wulf.

Wulf nodded. "Was it real?"

D'Aria cocked her head slightly as she thought about that. Her pale eyes held a faraway, fragile look to them. "If you both recall it, then yes." Her gaze sharpened as she looked up at Wulf. "But it wasn't from any of us. Since you are under my care, none of the other Oneroi would have interfered with your dreams without telling me."

"Are you sure?" he asked emphatically.

"Yes. It's the one code we are all careful to follow. When a Dark-Hunter is given over to one of us to care for, we never trespass without a direct invitation."

That all too familiar frown creased Wulf's brow. Cassandra was beginning to wonder if the "real" Wulf was capable of any other expression than that sinister, intense look. "Since I'm under your care, how is it that you didn't know about the dreams I've had with her?"

D'Aria shrugged in a gesture that looked rather awkward for her. It was obvious the shrug was a practiced expression. "You didn't summon me to your dreams, nor were you hurt or in need of my healing. I don't spy on your unconscious mind without cause, Wulf. Dreams are private matters and only the evil Skoti go where they're not invited."

D'Aria turned to look at her. She held her hand out. "You may touch me, Cassandra."

"How do you know my name?"

"She knows all about you," Wulf said. "Dream-Hunters can see right through us."

Cassandra tentatively touched D'Aria's hand. It was soft and warm. Human. Yet there was a strange electrical field around it that was similar to static electricity, only different. It was oddly soothing.

"We are not so different in this realm," D'Aria said quietly.

Cassandra withdrew her hand. "But you have no emotions?"

"At times we can, if we have been recently inside a human's dream. It's possible to continue to syphon emotions for a brief time."

"Skoti can syphon for longer periods," Wulf added. "They're similar to Daimons that way. Instead of feeding off your soul, the Skoti feed off your emotions."

"Energy vampires," Cassandra said.

D'Aria nodded.

Cassandra had read about the Dream-Hunters extensively. Unlike the Dark-Hunters, there was a ton of ancient literature that survived about the Oneroi. The gods of sleep appeared throughout Greek literature, but there was seldom a mention of the evil Skoti who preyed on people while they slept.

All Cassandra knew about them was that they were highly feared in ancient civilizations. So much so that many ancient humans were afraid to even mention the Skoti by name lest they incur a midnight visit from the sleep demons.

"Would Artemis have done this to us?" Wulf asked D'Aria.

"Why would she?" D'Aria countered.

Wulf shifted slightly. "Artemis seems to be protecting the princess. Could she have sent her into my dreams for that purpose?"

"I suppose most anything is possible."

Cassandra seized on D'Aria's words with zeal and a rare glimmer of hope. "Is it possible that I don't have to die on my next birthday?"

D'Aria's emotionless gaze held no more promise than her words. "If you are asking me for prophecy, child, that I cannot give you. The future is something each of us must meet on his or her own. What I say now may or may not be truth."

"But do all half-Apollites have to die at twenty-seven?" Cassandra asked again, desperate for an answer.

"That, too, is an Oracle question."

Cassandra closed her eyes in frustration. All she wanted was some hope. A little guidance.

One more year of life.

Something. But apparently she was asking too much.

"Thank you, D'Aria," Wulf said, his voice deep and strong.

The Dream-Hunter inclined her head to them, then vanished. There was no trace of her. No sign.

Cassandra looked around the elegant garage of a man who had lived for untold centuries. Then she looked at the small signet ring she wore on her right hand that her mother had given her just days before she died. A ring that had been handed down through her family since their first ancestor had prematurely crumbled to dust.

All of a sudden, Cassandra burst out laughing.

Wulf appeared bemused by her humor. "Are you all right?"

"No," she said, trying to sober. "I think I snapped a wheel at some point tonight. Or at the very least stepped over into the realm of Rod Serling's Twilight Zone."

His frown deepened. "How do you mean?"

"Well, let's see..." She looked at her gold Harry Winston watch. "It's only eleven o'clock and tonight I have gone to a club that seems to be owned by shape-shifting panthers, where a group of vampire hit men and one possible god attacked me. Went home only to be attacked again by said hit men, god, and then a dragon. Had a Dark-Hunter save me. My bodyguard may or may not be in the service of a goddess and now I just met a sleep spirit. Hell of a day, huh?"

For the first time since meeting him in the flesh, she saw a hint of a smile on Wulf's roguishly handsome face. "Just a typical day in the life from where I'm standing," he said.

He moved closer to her and examined her neck where Stryker had bitten her. His fingers were warm against her skin. Soothing and gentle. The scent of him filled her head and made her wish for a moment where they could go back and just be friends again.

There was very little blood on her shirt. "It looks like it's closed up already."

"I know," she said quietly. There was a coagulating gel in Apollite saliva, which was why they had to continually suck for blood once they opened a wound. Otherwise the wound would close before they had a chance to eat. The gel they secreted could also blind humans if an Apollite spat in their eyes.

She was just grateful that the bite didn't unite her with Stryker in any way. Only Were-Hunters had that ability.

Wulf stepped back from her and led her into his house. He wasn't sure why he had been given the task of seeing to her safety, but until Acheron told him otherwise, he would do his duty. Feelings be damned.

As he opened the door, his cell phone rang.

Wulf answered it to find Corbin on the other end. "Hey, did you find Kat?"

"Yeah," Corbin said. "She told me she only went to take out the garbage and came back to find Cassandra gone."

He relayed the information to Cassandra, who looked confused by it.

"What do you want me to do with Kat?" he asked Cassandra.

"Can she come here?"

Yeah. When the equator freezes. He wasn't about to let Kat near Chris or his home until he knew more about her and her loyalties. "Hey, Bin, can she stay with you?"

Cassandra narrowed her green eyes at him with malice. "That's not what I said."

He held his hand up to silence her. "Yeah, okay. I'll call you once we get settled." He hung up.

Cassandra bristled at his high-handed manner. "I don't like being shushed."

"Look," he said, clipping his phone back on his belt. "Until I know more about your friend, I'm not inviting her into my home, where Christopher lives. I don't mind wagering with my life, but I'll be damned again before I wager with his. Got it?"

Cassandra hesitated as she remembered what he had told her in their dreams about Chris and how much Chris meant to him. "I'm sorry. I didn't think about that. So he lives here too?"

He nodded as he turned on a light in the back hallway. To her right was a staircase and on the left was a small bathroom. Farther down the hallway was the kitchen. Large and airy, it was scrupulously clean and very modern in design.

Wulf hung his keys on a small rack by the stove. "Make yourself at home. There's beer, wine, milk, juice, and soda in the fridge."

He showed her where the glasses and plates were kept above the dishwasher.

They left the kitchen and he turned the lights off before leading her into an open, inviting living room. There were two black leather sofas, a matching armchair, and an ornate silver box of medieval design for a coffee table. One wall held an entertainment center, complete with large-screen TV, stereo, DVD and VHS players, along with every game system known to mankind.

She cocked her head at the sight as she imagined the large, cumbersome Viking warrior playing games. It seemed completely out of character for him and his overly serious attitude. "You play?"

"Sometimes," he said, his voice low. "Chris plays mostly. I prefer to veg in front of my computer."

She refrained from laughing at the image she had of that. Wulf was far too intense to simply "veg."

Wulf shrugged off his coat and draped it over his couch. Cassandra heard someone coming down the hallway toward the living room.

"Hey, Big Guy, did you see..." Chris's voice trailed off as he entered the room wearing navy flannel pajama bottoms and a white T-shirt.

His mouth fell open.

"Hi, Chris," Cassandra said.

Chris didn't speak for several minutes while he looked back and forth between them.

When he finally spoke, his voice was a cross between aggravation and anger. "No, no, no. This ain't right. I finally find a woman who'll actually let me into her place and you bring her home for you?"

Chris's face went pale as if he had another thought. "Oh, please tell me you brought her home for you and not for me. You didn't pimp me out again, Wulf, did you? I swear I'll stake you in your sleep if you did."

"Excuse me," Cassandra said, interrupting Chris's tirade, which appeared to amuse Wulf. "I happen to be standing right here. Just what kind of woman do you think I am?"

"A very nice one," Chris said, instantly redeeming himself, "but Wulf is extremely overbearing and tends to bully people into doing what he wants them to."

Wulf snorted at that. "Then why can't I bully you into procreating?"

"See!" Chris said, raising his hand in triumph. "I'm the only human in history to have a Viking yenta of his very own. God, how I wish my father had been a fertile man."

Cassandra laughed at the image Chris's words conjured in her mind. "Viking yenta, huh?"

Chris let out a disgusted breath. "You've no idea..." He paused and then frowned at the two of them. "And why is she here, Wulf?"

"I'm protecting her."

"From?"

"Daimons."

"Big bad ones," Cassandra added.

Chris took that better than she would have imagined. "She knows about us?"

Wulf nodded. "She knows pretty much everything."

"Is that why you were asking about Dark-Hunter.com?" Chris asked Cassandra.

"Yes. I wanted to find Wulf."

Chris was immediately suspicious.

"It's okay, Chris," Wulf explained. "She'll be staying with us a while. You don't have to hide anything from her."

"You swear?"

"Yes."

Chris looked very pleased by that. "So you guys fought some Daimons, huh? Wish I could. Wulf goes nuts if I even pick up a butter knife."

Cassandra laughed.

"Really," Chris said sincerely. "He's worse than a mother hen. So how many Daimons did you two kill?"

"None," Wulf muttered. "These were a lot stronger than the average soul-sucker."

"Well, that ought to make you happy," Chris said to Wulf. "You finally have someone who can fight you until you're bloody and blue from it." He turned back toward Cassandra. "Has Wulf explained his little problem to you?"

Cassandra's eyes widened as she tried to think of what "little" problem Wulf could possible have.

Unconsciously, her gaze dropped to his groin.

"Hey!" Wulf snapped. "That has never been my problem. That's his problem."

"Bullshit!" Chris snapped. "I haven't got any problems there either. My only problem is you yenting at me all the time to go get laid."

Oh, Cassandra really didn't want to go where this conversation was leading. It was way too much information about both men.

"Well, then, what problem were you talking about?" she asked Chris.

"The fact that if you walk out of the room, by the time you get to the end of the hallway, you won't remember him."

"Oh," she said in understanding. "That."

"Yeah, that."

"It's not a problem," Wulf said as he crossed his arms over his chest. "She remembers me."

"Ah, man," Chris said, his face contorted by disgust. "I've been making moves on a relative? That's so sick."

Wulf rolled his eyes. "She's not related to us."

Chris looked relieved for about half a second, then he looked ill again. "Well, then, that sucks even more. I finally find a woman who doesn't think I'm a total loser and she's here for you? What is wrong with this picture?"

Chris paused. The light came back to his face as if he'd had an even better thought. "Oh, wait, what am I saying? If she remembers you, I'm off the hook! Wahoo!" Chris started dancing around the couch.

Cassandra stared at his chaotic, off-rhythm movements. Wulf really needed to let the boy out more.

"Don't get too excited, Christopher," Wulf said, dodging him as he came around the couch and tried to include Wulf in the dance. "She happens to be an Apollite."

Chris froze, then settled down. "She can't be, I've seen her in the daylight and she has no fangs."

"I'm half-Apollite."

Chris stepped behind Wulf as if suddenly afraid she might start feeding on him. "So what are you going to do with her?"

"She's my house guest for a while. You, on the other hand, need to get your bags packed." Wulf pushed him toward the hallway, but Chris refused to budge. "I'm calling the Council to evacuate you."

"Why?"

"Because we have a nasty Daimon after her who has some unusual powers. I don't want you caught in the cross fire."

Chris gave him a droll look. "I'm not a baby, Wulf. You don't have to hide me at the first sign of something not boring."

In spite of Chris's words, Wulf held the look of a patient parent dealing with a toddler. "I'm not taking a chance with your life, so go pack."

Chris let out a disgusted growl. "I curse the day Morginne gave you the soul of an old woman and made you worse than any mother could ever be."

"Christopher Lars Eriksson, move!" Wulf barked in a tone so commanding that Cassandra actually jumped.

Chris just gave him a bored, blank stare. Sighing heavily, he turned and walked back down the hallway he'd emerged from.

"I swear," Wulf growled in a tone so low she barely heard him, "there are times when I could choke the life out of him."

"Well, you do talk to him like he's four."

Wulf turned on her with a glare so menacing that she actually stepped back from his wrath. "That is none of your business."

Cassandra held her hands up and returned his glare with one of her own. "Excuse me, Mr. Bad-Ass, but you will take another tone to me. I'm not your bitch to heel when you snap. I don't have to stay here."

"Yes you do."

She gave him an arch look. "I don't think so, and unless you take that anger out of your voice when you speak to me, all you're going to see is my heinie as it goes out that door." She pointed to the front door.

The smile he gave her was wicked and cold. "Have you ever tried to run from a Viking? There's a damned good reason why the western Europeans wet themselves whenever our names were mentioned."

His words made her shiver. "You wouldn't dare."

"Feel free to try me."

Cassandra swallowed. Maybe she shouldn't be so cocksure.

Oh, screw that. If he wanted a fight, she was more than ready. A woman who had spent her life fighting Daimons was more than apt to take on any Dark-Hunter.

"Let me remind you of this, Mr. Viking-Warrior-Barbarian-Hoodlum, while your ancestors were scrounging for fire and food, mine were commanding the elements and building an empire that not even the modern world can touch. So don't you dare threaten me with what you're capable of. I'm not about to take that from you or anyone else. Got that?"

To her surprise he laughed at her words and moved to stand in front of her. His eyes were dark, dangerous, and they made her hot in spite of how angry she was at him. The heat of his body incinerated hers.

She was even more breathless now.

More aware of him and that raw, unsettling masculinity that made every feminine part of her pant.

He placed his hand on her cheek. One corner of his mouth was turned up in amusement. The look of him watching her was totally devastating. "In my day, you would have been worth more than your weight in gold."

Then he did the most unexpected thing of all, he dipped his head down and kissed her.

Cassandra moaned at the feral taste of him. His breath mixed with hers as he plundered her mouth, making her hot and throbbing for him.

But then, that wasn't hard. Not when he was so scrumptiously perfect. So manly and fierce.

Her entire body sizzled at his nearness. At the taste of his tongue dancing with hers as he growled low in his throat.

He pulled her closer to him. So close that she could feel the bulge of his cock against her hip. He was hard already and she knew firsthand just how capable a lover he was. That knowledge made her even more breathless. Needy. He ran his hands down her back until he could cup her bottom and press her even closer to him.

Her anger melted under the desire she felt for this man.

"You taste even sweeter now than before," he breathed against her lips.

She couldn't speak. It was true. This was far more intense. Far more scintillating than anything in her dreams. All she wanted to do was strip his clothes off, throw him on the ground, and ride him until they both were sweaty and sated.

Every part of her cried out for her to make that fantasy real.

Wulf couldn't breathe as he felt her womanly curves against him and in his hands.

He wanted her madly. Desperately. Worse, he had taken her enough times in their dreams to know exactly how passionate she was.

She's an Apollite. The highest form of forbidden fruit.

The voice of sanity rushed through his mind.

He didn't want to listen.

But he had no choice.

Releasing her, he forced himself to step away from her and the need she created inside him.

To his surprise, she didn't let him go. She pulled him back to her lips and ravished his mouth with hers. He closed his eyes and hissed in pleasure as she permeated every sense he possessed. Her scent of roses and powder made him drunk.

He didn't think he could ever get enough of that smell. Of her body grinding against his.

He wanted her more than he had ever wanted anything.

She pulled away and looked up at him. Her green eyes were bright, her cheeks flushed by her passion. "You're not the only one who wants something impossible, Wulf. As much as you hate me for what I am, imagine how I feel knowing I've dreamt of a man who has slaughtered my people for how many centuries now?"

"Twelve," he said before he could stop himself.

She winced at his words. Her hands dropped away from his face. "How many of us have you killed? Do you even know?"

He shook his head. "They had to die. They were killing innocent people."

Her eyes darkened and turned accusatory. "They were surviving, Wulf. You never had to face the choice of being dead at twenty-seven. When most people's lives are just beginning, we are looking at a death sentence. Have you any idea what it's like to know you can never see your children grow up? Never see your own grandchildren? My mother used to say we were spring flowers who are only meant to bloom for one season. We bring our gifts to the world and then recede to dust so that others can come after us."

She held her right hand up so that he could see the five tiny pink teardrops tattooed on her palm in the shape of a flower's petals. "When our loved ones die, we immortalize them like this. I have one for my mother and the other four are my sisters. No one will ever know the beauty of my sisters' laughter. No one will remember the kindness of my mother's smile. In eight months, my father won't even have enough of me left to bury. I will become scattered dust. And for what? For something my great-great-great-whatever did? I've been alone the whole of my life because I dare not let anyone know me. I don't want to love for fear of leaving someone like my father behind to mourn me.

"I will be a vague dream, and yet here you are, Wulf Tryggvason. Viking cur who once roamed the earth raiding villages. How many people did you kill in your human lifetime while you sought your treasure and fame? Were you any better than the Daimons who kill so that they can live? What makes you better than us?"

"It's not the same thing."

Disbelief went through her that he couldn't see what was so obvious. "Isn't it? You know, I went to your Web site and saw the names listed there. Kyrian of Thrace, Julian of Macedon, Valerius Magnus, Jamie Gallagher, William Jess Brady. I've studied history all my life and know each of those names and the terror they wrought in their day. Why is it okay for the Dark-Hunters to have immortality even though most of you were killers as humans, while we are damned at birth for things we never did? Where is the justice in this?"

Wulf didn't want to hear her words. He'd never given any thought to the Daimons and why they did what they did. He had a job to do and so he killed them. The Dark-Hunters were the ones who were right. They were human protectors. The Daimons were the predators who deserved to be stalked and killed. "The Daimons are evil."

"Am I evil?"

No, she wasn't. She was...

She was things he dared not name.

"You're an Apollite," he said forcefully.

"I'm a woman, Wulf," she said simply, her voice filled with emotion. "I cry and I mourn. I laugh and I love. Just like my mother did. I don't see a difference between me and anyone else on this planet."

He met her gaze and the fire in his eyes scorched her. "I do, Cassandra. I see the difference."

His words cut her to the quick. "Then we have nothing more to talk about. We are enemies. It's all we can ever be."

Wulf took a deep breath as she spoke a truth that couldn't be changed. Since the day Apollo had cursed his own children, Dark-Hunters and Apollites had been mortal enemies.

"I know," he said softly, his throat tight with that realization.

He didn't want to be enemies, not with her.

But how could they ever be anything else?

He hadn't chosen this life on his own, but he had given his word to live it now.

They were enemies.

And it killed him inside.

"Let me show you where you can sleep." He led her to the wing opposite Chris's where she could have all the privacy she wanted.

Cassandra didn't say anything as Wulf turned over a large, comfortable bedroom to her. Her heart was heavy, aching for things that were foolish and stupid. What did she want of him?

There was no way to prevent him from killing her people. It was the way of the world and no amount of argument would change that.

There was no hope of having a relationship with him or any other man. Her life was all but over now. So where did that leave them?

Nowhere.

So she resorted to the humor that had seen her through the tragedies of her life. It was all she had. "Tell me, if I get lost in this place, do you have a search party available to find me again?"

He didn't laugh. There was a solid wall between them now. He had completely closed himself off from her. It was just as well.

"I'll go get you something to sleep in." He started away from her.

"You won't even trust me to see where you sleep, huh?"

His look was piercing. "You've already seen where I sleep."

Her face turned red as she remembered the most erotic of her dreams. The one where she had watched his tawny body sliding against hers in the mirrors while he made slow, passionate love to her. "The black iron bed?"

He nodded, then left her.

Alone, Cassandra sat on the mattress and pushed her thoughts away. "What am I doing here?" Part of her said to screw it and just take her chances with Stryker.

But another part of her wanted to go back to her dreams and just pretend this day hadn't happened.

No, what she wanted was the one thing she knew she could never have...

She wanted a forbidden fantasy-a man of her own to have and to hold. One she could grow old with. One who could hold her hand as she brought his baby into the world.

It was so impossible that she had buried those dreams years and years ago.

Up until now, she'd never met anyone who made her ache for the things that were denied her. Not until she had stared into a pair of black eyes and listened to a Viking warrior talk about keeping a boy safe.,

A man who felt guilt for his past.

She yearned now. And it was an impossible desire.

Wulf could never be hers, and even if he was, she would be dead in a matter of months.

Hanging her head in her hands, she wept.