Dark Hunter 00 - Dark Bites (Novellas) (76 page)

“A little. And you?”

“A little.”

Even so, he was too grateful for his life to mind even a lengthy visit at his in-laws’. He still found it hard to believe Pete had lied to save him.

“I’ve ruined your life enough, Kid. This is one place I think I’d best go to alone,” Pete had told him.

Pete would be in prison for a long time to come. Maybe it would make his brother a better man.

All he could do was hope that one day his brother would find the peace that had always eluded him.

Michael placed a tender kiss on Catherine’s brow as he took Diana’s hand in his and helped her up into the wagon.

Every day for the last two years, he had been grateful that his wife had stood by him, even though it was the last thing he’d deserved.

“Thank you, Cathy,” he breathed as he helped her climb into the wagon seat.

“For what?” she asked.

“For making my life worth living.”

Her smile warmed him to his toes. “It’s been my pleasure, Mr. O’Callahan. Merry Christmas.”

And a Merry Christmas it would be, too. For in this life, there were second chances, and this time, Michael wouldn’t waste the one he’d been given.

REDEMPTION

A Bonus Scene from The Guardian

Blowing out a frustrated breath, Seth stared at himself in the mirror as he tried to do something with his rebellious hair.

It was useless.

Even worse than the curly mess he couldn’t control was the clothes Lydia had picked out for him to wear. The black pants that buttoned on the sides were extremely uncomfortable and they only went to his knees. From there down, he had on white… what had she called them? Stockings? And weird buckled shoes that pinched his toes and rubbed his heels worse than his armored boots.

But the thing he despised most was the gold, high-collared, heavily embroidered jacket with a white shirt that had mountains of girly lace cascading down the front. Lydia had called it a cravat. He called it hideous. And that same scratchy lace spilled out at the end of his sleeves, covering both of his hands, all the way to his knuckles.

He’d bitched about this monstrosity the moment she’d shoved it at him. The only reason he’d finally agreed to wear it was that she’d pointed out the fact that it couldn’t possibly be any more uncomfortable to wear than his armor – something he empathically disagreed with. Only an outright moron laughed at a man encased in demonic armor. Dressed like this, only an outright moron
wouldn’t
laugh at it.

And two – the most important reason of all – he wouldn’t have to wear it long. As soon as they were done, she’d promised to rip this heinous outfit off him and make him deliriously happy that he’d humored her.

Little did she know, he’d have worn it for her anyway. All she had to do was smile at him and he was sunk.

Still…

“I look like an effing idiot.”

Dressed in black tails and tie, Asmodeus snorted from behind him. “I would respond to that, but the fact that you have more powers now than you did when I served you in the Nether Realm, and the fact that I’m fond of my body parts in their current locations, prevents me from saying a single word.” He flashed a fanged grin at Seth. “Sorry.”

Yeah, right. His expression said Asmodeus was anything but. In fact, that expression said the bastard was highly amused… and at Seth’s expense.

See. Point taken.
Asmodeus had never dared laugh at him when they were in Azmodea and Seth was in armor.

But in
this
…

Laughter was a moral imperative, and he couldn’t fault Asmodeus for that.

Seth was tempted to offer the demon money to change clothes with him. Unfortunately, Asmodeus was an amorphic demon who could take any form he wanted, and for the wedding, the little creep had decided to be only six feet tall with short white blond hair he had spiked up, all over his head. Then again, Seth could use his own powers to simply change his clothes into something else.

Like armor.

But that would upset Lydia.

For her, Seth would suffer.

Maybe not in silence, but…

He stifled a whimper as he met Asmodeus’s gaze in the mirror. Those demonic gray eyes were the only thing that stayed the same in all of Asmodeus’s incarnations. Eyes that saw far deeper than the surface of any being.

While Seth had been locked in the Nether Realm, Azmodea – the demon – had been the only one, besides Jaden, who’d never harmed him. In fact, it was Asmodeus who’d taught him to paint his face to intimidate the others. And in spite of what Asmodeus had said, Seth had never once done him harm either.

The sad news was that Asmodeus was the closest thing to an actual friend Seth had ever had… which was why the demon, who’d been freed from Noir’s service a few years back while Seth had been confined, had been asked to be his best man.

Asmodeus moved closer to straighten Seth’s cravat. “I have to say that I’m glad you’re the only one she wants dressed this way. ‘Cause it is epically hideous and you look like a woman in it.”

Seth glared down at him. “You better be glad I’ve mellowed and that you’re one of only four guests I have here today.”

Asmodeus’s grin widened. “Infinitely so, Lord Master Guardian. Besides, you wouldn’t want your best demon to have blood on his rented tux at your wedding, would you? It might distress Mistress Jackal.”

A wave of anger shot through Seth at the reminder of the slavery in hell he’d barely survived. But for Lydia, he’d still be there, living in torture and chains, and never-ending misery. Even the mere mention of it sent him into a furious state. “I know you’re joking with that title, but don’t call me that anymore.”

Stepping back, Asmodeus inclined his head as if he understood why that reminder stung Seth so deep. “What do I call you then?”

“Seth.”

The demon started to chuckle then stopped the moment Seth lifted a questioning eyebrow. “Sorry, Lord Master… that which I cannot say.”

“What’s so funny about my name?”

The demon shrugged. “I just thought you’d have a more sinister one than Seth. Although it does rhyme with death… Perhaps apropos after all.” Asmodeus clapped him on the back then changed the subject. “Are you nervous about this?”

Not really. Bored. Irritated. Impatient. But definitely not nervous. He couldn’t think of anything better than being bound to his Lydia. She was his only master now and he was quite content to be shackled to her for the rest of eternity. “Am I supposed to be?”

“I’m told many are when they go to tie their lives to someone else. I, personally, would be vomitus over it.”

“Why?”

“One woman? Forever?” Asmodeus choked himself.

Seth shook his head at the demon. “She’s not just any woman.” She was unlike anyone he’d ever known. Best of all, she loved him, and
that
he’d never understand. Not even a little.

But he would always be grateful that she, alone, had looked into the eyes of a scarred, broken demon-slave and found a humanity Seth had never known, or even guessed, existed inside him.

Not until he’d been touched by a gentle hand that didn’t cause him injury. One that never begrudged or betrayed him.

The demon shrugged again. “That’s what they all claim. Then you marry one of them, and they spend the rest of their lives trying to kill you.”

“How so?”

Asmodeus checked the list off on his fingers. “Whining. Nagging. Expanding.”

Seth scowled at the one he didn’t understand. “Expanding?”

“You know, getting fat on you.”

Seth was baffled by his reasoning. “Lydia’s pregnant, not fat.” And that was definitely his fault and not hers.

“Yes, but that weight never goes away. Trust me.”

Still, he didn’t see how that was a bad thing. “There will just be more of her to love.”

The demon made a gagging sound. “Just wait until the demon in her makes a – ”

“Asmodeus!” Maahes, the Egyptian god of war and cousin to Seth, snapped as he flashed into the room in all his regal god-finery. “Stop trying to run him off.”

“Run him off?” Asmodeus asked indignantly. “I’m trying to save him.”

Maahes grinned at Seth. “I don’t think he wants to be saved.”

Definitely not from Lydia, but he wasn’t about to say that to
them
. Neither of them needed to know his emotions. They were reserved solely for the woman who’d given her heart to him.

“Is it time?” Seth asked the god.

“Almost.” Maahes squinted at him as he studied his clothes. “You’re not actually wearing your hair like that, are you?”

Yeah, okay – that succeeded in making him nervous. “Why? I thought I’d tamed it.”

Maahes snorted. “Looks real good, Poindexter.”

“Poindexter?” Seth scowled at a reference that had no meaning to him.

Without answering, Maahes grabbed him and turned him away from the mirror so that he could tug at Seth’s hair.

Seth tried to pull away, but Maahes wouldn’t let him. Then he tried to fend the obnoxious god off. “What are you doing?”

“Put your hands down.”

Like hell.

“What in the world is going on here?”

Seth pushed Maahes back at the sound of Ma’at’s voice. The Egyptian god of justice and balance, she was so tiny she barely reached the middle of Seth’s chest. Her caramel skin glowed with the warmth of her powers and made her green eyes sparkle. An amused sparkle that danced as she watched them.

“Nothing,” he muttered.

Maahes flicked at one of Seth’s traitorous curls. “I’m trying to make this dark auburn bush that functions as his hair semi-attractive for his bride.”

Ma’at arched a brow. “
That
is
not
attractive.”

Seth turned to look in the mirror. He’d had his hair kind of smoothed down before Maahes had arrived. Now it stuck out all over his head like Asmodeus’s.

Great, I look like I’ve been given electroshock treatments.
 

His former owner would be pleased, indeed.

“I wasn’t through with it,” Maahes said defensively.

Tsking at them, Ma’at came forward to speak to Seth. “Come here, child.”

Seth’s first instinct was to glare, but he’d slowly learned over the last few months that Ma’at and Maahes weren’t his enemies.

They were his family. After all these long centuries, he really did have one.

He still couldn’t believe it.

That had been the hardest adjustment for him in this modern, mortal world. Forcing himself to remember that not everyone wanted to hurt him. Not everyone took pleasure in his agony. That there really were people in the world who could love him and not cause him harm.

Smiling, Ma’at patted him gently on the arm. “You’ll have to sit or kneel, Seth. I can’t reach your hair from here.”

Her powers and personality were such that it was easy to forget just how tiny she really was.

Seth knelt down so that she could quickly style his hair.

Once she finished, he rose and went to look at it. The curls were all over his head again. Repulsed by the sight, he reached to straighten it.

She grabbed his arm. “Don’t you dare!” Ma’at’s voice was as stern as he’d ever heard it.

Seth curled his lip. “I look like a woman.”

“No, sweetie, you
definitely
don’t. Trust me.” She turned a sharp glare toward Maahes and Asmodeus. “And don’t either one of you dare contradict me.”

Maahes held his hands up in surrender. “I would
never
contradict you. I know better.”

“Good.” She turned her attention back to Seth. “Lydia wanted a Beauty and the Beast theme for her wedding. I think you look grand.”

Asmodeus broke out into laughter.

Once he realized the three of them were glaring at him, he sobered. “Oh c’mon. Don’t tell me that went over all of your heads. You know, she’s a jackal A.K.A. beast and dressed like
that
,” he gestured at Seth, “he looks like the beauty.” He laughed again.

Maahes met Seth’s gaze. “I can kill him if you want.”

“No, don’t.
I
want the pleasure of killing the bastard.”

Ma’at stopped Seth before he could reach Asmodeus. “Your bride is waiting for you. Do you really want to waste time with an annoying demon?”

“Fine.

But after…

“There’s one thing I want to add to Lydia’s registry.” He jerked his chin to Asmodeus. “His head on a platter.”

Maahes laughed. “With or without a roasted apple wedged in his mouth?”

Lydia tucked her
hand into the crook of Solin’s elbow. Dressed all in black, her father was stunning and elegant in his coat and tails.

He covered her hand with his and gave her a stern glower. “You know, you don’t have to do this. It’s not too late to have George take us home.”

She smiled at the reminder of his valet who was seated just inside the temple door – ready to run her out to the car should she change her mind.

“Daddy,” she whispered to him. “I love Seth.”

He picked her hand up and kissed her fingers. “I’ve waited your entire life to hear you call me that. Thank you.” He returned her hand to his elbow.

She kissed his cheek. “I do love you, you know that, don’t you?”

“Absolutely. And while I don’t like the idea of you marrying that bastard, I promise I will always be polite to him.”

Yes, but his idea of polite and hers had a bit of a gap between them. Still, her father was trying, and for that, she’d give him extra points.

Ma’at opened the door that led to the hallway. “He’s downstairs, waiting.”

Dressed in a pale yellow gown, Ma’at made a gorgeous matron of honor. Since Lydia didn’t have a lot of people she was close to and everyone outside of this small group thought her dead, Ma’at had been the best choice.

Ma’at handed her the bride’s bouquet…

Pink and white lilies. Seth’s special nickname for her. Her eyes teared up as she gripped the handle. Seth had insisted she carry them.

“Are you all right?” Solin asked in a worried tone.

“Hormonal.” The only thing she didn’t like about being pregnant was the fact that she cried over every little thing. It was terrible.