To his shock and delight, he actually made it across the river. Bracing himself for the worst, he jumped into the water and pulled the raft onto the shore, out of the reach of the tide. He stored his pole then wiped the sweat from his brow. There was a huge mountain in front of him. It was Karnus, the mountain where the majority of the Atlantean gods had placed their temples.

Damn, that was a long climb.

Yeah, well, at least it's something to do that won't cut your hands. He laughed bitterly at that single truth then commenced his journey.

He didn't reach the top until well after nightfall. All the temples were dark except for the main hall where Apollo had first dumped him in front of Archon's throne.

Completely naked, Styxx had been bound in gold chains and gagged.

Archon had frowned at Apollo. "What is this?"

"My present to you. Styxx of Didymos. I was told by Athena to remove him from Olympus, and as I was doing so, I remembered you telling me during your war with Greece that you'd give anything to have him bound and tied at your feet for five minutes."

A slow, sickening smile had spread across Archon's face. "What reward do you want for this service?"

"Only the right to come and take possession of him whenever it suits me. The rest of the time, he's yours to do with as you please so long as you don't kill him."

Archon inclined his head to Apollo. "Your rights are granted."

Apollo had pulled Styxx up from the floor by his hair and forced him to kneel in submission to Archon. "In that case, have fun. Oh, you should be warned that he bites unless drugged. And if you fill him with Eycharistisi first, you'll see why he's branded as a tsoulus. He's remarkably talented when he has no control of himself." Then he'd leaned over to smell Styxx's hair.

Styxx had jerked away and glared at him.

Laughing, Apollo had sobered then licked his lips. "Don't worry, precious. I'll be back for my turn with you later." After one last grope, the god had vanished and left Styxx to the tender custody of the gods who had relished his total degradation and torture.

In that moment, Styxx truly hated Artemis and Acheron for having removed his own memories and replaced them with Acheron's while he'd been in Tartarus. If he'd been in possession of his own mind, he'd have never chosen to live here.

For Acheron, Katateros was a haven.

For him it was utter hell.

Had his thoughts not been wrapped up in Acheron's selfishness, he would have remembered how bad it'd been for him here.

How much he hated it.

But Acheron had no idea that Styxx had ever lived in this cursed place. That he knew Acheron's family much better than Acheron did.

Ready to confront his brother, Styxx started for the main doors, but the sound of laughter pulled him to the side of the building where lights shined with the brilliance of a sun. It took him a few minutes to climb up so that he could look inside and see his brother's steward, Alexion, and his wife Danger along with the Charonte demons Simi and Xirena. The four of them sat on cushions that lined the floor in front of a large-screen television, watching some show he couldn't name.

Acheron entered the room and moved to sit next to Simi while he and Alexion bantered. They looked so happy together. There had never been a time in Styxx's life when he'd been like that with his family. So relaxed and open. Laughing unrestrained.

In that moment, he remembered all the times he'd listened to Ryssa and Acheron laughing through the walls of his room while he'd been left alone.

Or worse, while he'd been forced to "entertain" Apollo to the sounds of their friendly reverie.

Climbing down, he leaned back against the stone building and tried to calm his ragged breaths. A part of him wanted to go in just to disturb their happiness. One look at him and they'd all stop laughing.

But he didn't want to intrude.

He didn't belong there. He wasn't part of Acheron's family.

Bending his knees, Styxx braced his arm across them so that he could see Bethany and Galen's names in the moonlight. How he missed sitting with her while she told him stories about her own family and how much they loved her. How her father would take her hunting, and how her mother lived for their girl-time excursions.

Styxx closed his eyes and let the agony of her loss keep him company for a little while as their laughter continued to reach his ears. He brushed his fingers against his cheek and pretended it was Bethany's delicate, beautiful hand that touched him. But his hands were coarse, cut, and swollen. Callused. They weren't the refined, soft hands of his gentle wife.

Tears filled his eyes as he missed her with every part of his being.

Trying to distract himself from something he couldn't change, Styxx glanced about the dark temples until he saw the one that had belonged to the goddess of wrath and misery. He still didn't know what all she'd done to him while he'd been there with her. Those memories had never returned.

But she had been nicer to him than the rest of her pantheon. Unlike the other buildings around him, that one held no horrible reminders of his time here.

Before he realized what he was doing, he headed for it. Though it was dark, the full moon cast enough light that he could see a great deal. Like the hall Acheron had dumped him in, it was pristine. It appeared as if she'd return any moment to reclaim it.

He went straight to the back, where the bathing pool was. The room was just as he remembered. He glanced to the white chaise where she had sat, watching him. As he headed toward it, he saw the tray of salts and lotions she'd place by the side of the pool for his use.

Kneeling down, he lifted the lids and froze as he caught a whiff of Bethany's eucalyptus and lilies. But then this had been her patron goddess. It made sense that she'd use fragrances sacred to Agriosa.

He started to put it back, but he couldn't. He wanted to keep it with him for a little while.

His gaze went to the room where the goddess had taken him to sleep. Cradling the small urn that smelled like Bethany, he headed for it and pushed the door open to see the same huge bed with red curtains that she'd tucked him into. Her symbol-a woman holding a bow-hung on the wall above it.

Against his will, he crossed the room and set the urn on the small table by the bed. He wondered if Agriosa had died at the same time Bethany had. Or if Apollymi had killed the blond goddess of wrath before then.

Not that it mattered. Both were gone and neither had deserved what Apollymi had done to them.

Styxx pulled the covers back and slid into the soft bed ... it'd been years since he last slept on a mattress. He buried his face into the pillow that smelled so much like Bethany that it made his eyes water all over again. I would give anything to wake up in your arms.

To feel her hand in his hair.

A sad smile curved his lips as he remembered her irritation when he'd all but shaved his head after Apollo and his father had used his hair to savage him one time too many. If not for her, he'd have never grown it out again.

But as much as he hated his hair, she'd loved to play in it and would spend hours at night twirling the strands around her fingers. Even when she slept, she reached out for it.

"Why do you enjoy my hair so?"

"It fascinates me. You're so hard everywhere else, but your lips and hair are like the down of a duckling. And I love the waves in it, and how good it smells. Grow it to your knees and I'll knit a sweater from it. Then I could have it with me all the time."

"If I did that, Beth, you'd have no use for me. I might never see you again."

She'd let out a heavy sigh. "Damn, you're on to me. Guess I'll never get that sweater now. I shall be stuck with you forever. Oh, the absolute horror of it all."

He'd laughed at her teasing.

Styxx clutched at the pillow as a sob choked him. It ever seemed his fate to lose the ones he loved, and then be stuck with something unsubstantial to hold on to that reminded him of them. Closing his eyes, he let the agony of it all wash over him. All he'd ever wanted was what Acheron had always taken for granted.

A single family member who loved him.

One.

As a boy, Acheron had held Styxx's love and loyalty, as well as Ryssa's. Acheron had always had Ryssa's heart, for that matter. While Styxx had been left with her wrath and rancor.

Over the centuries while Styxx had languished alone, Acheron had raised his Charonte daughter and been protected by Savitar, and Acheron's army of Dark-Hunters who loved and adored him. For almost eight thousand years, Acheron had Alexion here as his steward and brother.

It was so unfair.

"Listen to me, boy. Fair has no place in this world. Only infants whine about fairness. Men have more important battles to fight ... And life, like war, is neither right nor wrong. It just is. And rather than worry over a philosophy you can't change, you should just try to live through it as best you can."

Galen was right and he knew it. But it didn't make it easier to bear.

"I can't keep living like this."

After all the sins he'd committed, Acheron had found his place in the world and managed to have a decent life....

Other than having to continue to deal with Artemis and her tantrums. Styxx didn't envy his brother that. But at least it wasn't as demeaning and brutal as Styxx's relationship with Apollo. While Artemis was difficult, she did love Acheron. She'd birthed him a daughter she treasured above all others. Yes, she was harsh on Acheron, but she could also be kind. She had never treated his brother with the same acrimony, disdain, and cruelty that Apollo had shown Styxx.

Never once had she passed Acheron around or shared him with others. She didn't hold him down and choke him until he was almost dead and then revive him so that he'd know how fragile he was compared to a god.

Worse, Apollo took out his hatred for Acheron and Artemis's relationship on Styxx, too. Every time Acheron had offended Apollo, he'd come straight to Styxx to beat him for it as if it was somehow his fault.

And since he'd been given Acheron's memories, he knew all that for a fact. Ironically, he didn't see Artemis the same way his brother did. She attacked Acheron out of fear.

Apollo attacked him out of rage and utmost hatred.

While they both sucked, Styxx could have handled Artemis's wrath a lot easier since it only came out whenever Acheron said or did something to scare her. There was no way to gauge Apollo's trigger. He was angry when Styxx fought him and he was twice as angry when he didn't. Unlike Artemis, there was no love in Apollo to mitigate his attacks. No guilt that came later that made him want to make amends.

Apollo was simply a bully. He loved his power over others and he savored every ounce of pain he could wring out of someone.

Indeed, Artemis had never joyfully laughed in Acheron's ear when she hurt him or punched him with her fists.

"That's it, prince. Scream out for me. Let me hear your agony! Beg me for my mercy!"

The first lesson he'd learned when dealing with Apollo-don't do what he said. The more he begged for mercy, the less the god gave it to him.

Just like Acheron. His brother had never intended for him to be free any more than Artemis had.

Out of sight, out of mind.

That was all Styxx was left with.

October 1, 2008

"Who are you?"

Styxx paused at the angry male voice that was thick with an ancient Delphian accent. He turned around in the pool to see an extremely tall, well-built man with white blond hair he wore pulled back into a queue.

Urian.

He remembered him from Acheron's memories. This was Stryker's son who would have died by Stryker's hand had Acheron not saved his life. At one time, Urian had been the most vicious of killers and an enemy to Acheron and his Dark-Hunters. A Daimon, he had stood to the right-hand of his father and helped slaughter countless humans. But now, thanks to Acheron, Urian no longer needed human souls to survive.

These days, Urian was Acheron's second-in-command, and one of his best friends.

And as Styxx watched the man, there was something strangely familiar about him. Something he knew intimately.

That's because he's the direct grandson of Apollo.

Yeah, that would probably be it.

"I asked you a question," Urian snarled. "Do you not understand me?"

"I heard you."

"And?"

Styxx climbed out of the pool and reached for a towel. He quickly dried himself off then wrapped it around his hips before he closed the distance between them. "Ask me when you find a new tone. One with respect in it."

The way Urian arched his brow and cocked his head froze him to the spot. It was similar to a movement Bethany used to make whenever she was really cross with him. How weird to see that expression on a stranger, and a male one at that.

"You must be Styxx."

"So you're not as stupid as you look."

Urian started to comment until his gaze focused on Styxx's body. "Damn, you're scarred up."

"Aren't we all?"

Urian didn't comment on that. "I was told you'd been put on one of the other islands."

"I was."

"Then why are you here?"

Styxx picked up another towel to dry his hair. "I liked this one better."

"Are you always this big an asshole?"

"Are you?"

"Basically, yes. However, I thought I'd tempered it for you. Guess I'm an even bigger ass than I knew."

Styxx laughed at Urian's unexpected honesty. "Then I'd hate to see you on a bad day if this is a good one."

"Yeah, well, according to Ash I pretty much get on his nerves every ten minutes."

"It takes you an entire ten minutes? I'm impressed. All I have to do is enter his line of sight to wreck his whole year."

Urian smiled then indicated Styxx's scars with a tilt of his head. "You must have been a soldier who saw a lot of combat for those."

"I was ... and I did."

"Cavalry?"

"Protostratelates."

Urian's eyes bugged. "At your...? Oh wait, wait a minute. Styxx ... Styxx of Didymos, Styxx?"

He nodded.

Urian sputtered incredulously. "How stupid do I feel? I never put the two names together before. Mostly because I assumed the protostratelates who damn near defeated Atlantis was an old man. Oh wow..." he breathed. "You were a legend. When I was a kid, I extensively studied your surviving war notes, and reports, and everything written about you. Your tactics fascinated me, but there was so much left out."

"I didn't want someone to use my strategies against me."

"As I said, brilliant, and if you knew me, you'd know I gush over no one." Urian held his arm out. "This is really an honor."

Styxx hesitated then shook it. "So how old are you ... really?"

"I was born a few weeks before you and Acheron died. And before you condemn me, I mostly lived on people who deserved to die."

"Mostly?"

Urian shrugged. "Sometimes you can't be picky. But I never fed from a human woman or child. Or anyone who couldn't fight back."

Styxx held his hands up. "I'm in no position to judge anyone for how they survive."

A deep scowl furrowed Urian's brow. "It's strange though."

"What is?"

"How much you and Acheron favor not to be related at all."

Sighing, Styxx dropped his second towel then finger-combed his short blond hair. "Trick of his mother's to throw off the gods looking for him."

"She did well. I had a fraternal twin brother myself."

"Had?"

"He was killed a long time ago by a Dark-Hunter."

"Oh, I'm very sorry."

Urian inclined his head to him. "Thanks. Me, too. It's hard to lose a brother, and twice as hard when you're born together. Kind of like losing a limb."

Styxx would definitely agree with that. "In my case, more like losing a sphincter."

Urian laughed. "What happened between you? I mean, damn, Acheron forgave me, and I definitely didn't deserve a second chance. You don't seem like an outright bastard, and you definitely didn't battle like one. Things you did ... you protected your enemy against your own troops. And you were barbecued for it by Greek historians and commanders."

"I was barbecued for it by many people."

Urian followed him from the pool into the bedroom. "So how old were you when you first went into battle? Five?"

"Sixteen." Styxx picked his clothes up and went behind a screen to dress.

"Damn, that was harsh. My father refused to let us near battle until we were past our majority. He waited so long, it was actually embarrassing." Urian took a step back and gestured toward the door. "Would you like to come up to the main hall with me? Dinner should be about ready."

He would love to, but he knew better.

Styxx shook his head as he came around the screen. "I'm not welcome there. Acheron would have a fit to find me in his temple."

Sadness darkened Urian's eyes. "Don't worry. I won't tell bossman you're here. Stay as long as you want."

"Thanks, Urian." Styxx went to hang his towels up to dry.

"Hey?" Urian called. "Would you like me to bring you some dinner?"

"Gods, yes, I'd kill for some." Those rushed, heartfelt words were out before he could stop them. Embarrassed by the emotion he'd betrayed, he cleared his throat. "Yes, please. I'd appreciate it."

"I'll be back as soon as I can."

Styxx stared after him for a few minutes as it dawned on him that Urian was barely older than his son Galen would have been. The two of them could have played together and gone to war as friends.

That knowledge made him strangely protective of a man who was physically older than he was. And while Urian wasn't quite as tall as Styxx, he was more muscular. How weird. The boy would be highly offended if he ever learned Styxx was protective of him.

Trying not to think about it, Styxx went to finish his chores before it got too dark to see.

A few hours later, he was pulling out his dried clams to eat with coconut milk when Urian returned with a backpack that he set on the table beside Styxx.

He frowned at Styxx's dinner. "What is that?"

Styxx shrugged then returned the clams to the urn where he stored them.

Urian's scowl deepened as he tipped the chipped clay cup to see the coconut milk in it. "Ew! Really? You were really goingb to drink this shit?"

"��ά�æ� �� ' �Ϧ� �ȦŦ� ��ά�֦ϦͦӦ���," Styxx said simply.

Urian laughed. "Not even the gods fight necessity ... nice. You said that to your men right before the battle for Ena."

"Did I?"

"You don't remember?" Urian paused as he set out a bowl of something Styxx had never seen before, but it smelled wonderful.

"Honestly, no, and I can't really take credit for it. It was something my mentor used to say to me all the time."

"And what would he say about this?" Urian held up a bottle of wine.

"Broma theon." Food of the gods.

Urian handed it to him then dug out the opener and two glasses. "I'm going to hazard a wild guess that you're a little short on supplies. Would you like me to bring you something?"

"I can make do, but some fresh water would be nice. It doesn't rain here, and it doesn't get quite hot enough to make a lot of condensation. It's been difficult to desalinate the river water, which I can't figure out why it's salty..." But it was. And there weren't any streams or ponds that he'd been able to locate.

Urian scowled. "Why didn't you stay where your supplies were?"

Styxx dug a fork out of the backpack and sat down to eat the ... strangest food he'd ever seen. It was like white worms only really long and coated in some kind of red sauce. "I haven't received any."

Urian was aghast. "What have you been living on?"

Closing his eyes, Styxx savored the unfamiliar taste. It was even warm ... He swallowed and wiped his mouth before he answered. "Clams mostly ... whenever I can find them. Coconuts. Some greens I discovered out back." He took a drink of wine then sighed at how good it tasted. The last time he'd had this was years ago in New Orleans.

He felt Urian staring at him. "What?"

"Nothing."

It wasn't until then that Styxx realized Urian was one of the few people whose thoughts he couldn't hear. He had no clue what the man was thinking.

Urian grabbed the backpack up. "I'll be back in a few minutes, okay?"

Styxx nodded as he kept eating the ... "Urian? What's this called?"

"Spaghetti."

"It's really good. Thank you."

"Parakalo."

Once Styxx finished, he washed out the bowl and dried it then took his wine to the pool. He didn't know why he liked to stay in this room. There was just something about it that soothed him.

Rolling up his pants leg, he saw that the fabric was starting to fray. He needed to be more careful washing it and wearing it. Since there wasn't anything here to replace it with or animals to use for pelts, he'd have to make it last. He dipped his feet into the pool and sat alone in the silence.

He'd just finished off his wine when Urian returned.

"Is this what you do at night?"

Styxx got up and pulled his jeans down. "There's nothing else to do, really. Sometimes I go outside and stare at the moon."

"You must get a lot of sleep."

"Not really." Even now, he couldn't sleep through a night.

"How are you not crazy?"

Styxx snorted. "Who says I'm not?"

Urian released an elongated breath. "I couldn't take three days of this boredom without being stark-raving mad."

"As far as prisons go, trust me, this isn't so bad. No one's sticking hot brands on me or beating me, and I'm not chained to anything or drugged. Best of all, I don't have to bend myself in half to lie down."

"When were you a prisoner?"

Styxx laughed bitterly. "Honestly? In the whole of my extremely long life, I've only spent roughly a high grand total of fourteen years where I wasn't imprisoned for one reason or another."

"Imprisoned for what?"

"Being born Acheron's brother ... well, except for when Apollo and the Atlanteans held me here. That was entirely my fault. Turns out, gods don't like it when humans defeat them and invade their homelands. Who knew?"

Styxx swung his arm around the room. "Did you know this temple belonged to Bet'anya Agriosa ... the Atlantean goddess of misery and wrath? The next temple on the right belonged to Epithymia, their goddess of desire. She was a royal fucking bitch. Vicious. Cold. Lived to hurt others. It always made me wonder if Aphrodite was anything like her." Styxx paused as he caught the expression on Urian's face. "Sorry. I'm not used to having anyone to talk to."

Urian wasn't sure what to make of Styxx. From what little Acheron had mentioned of his brother, he'd expected some arrogant, demanding prick who looked at the people around him like they were dirt.

The man in front of him was definitely not the brother Acheron had described. There was no arrogance in him. He had a very quiet, suspicious nature. He reminded Urian more of the gators that called the swamps home in Louisiana.

Styxx kept his eyes on everything around him, assessing each corner and shadow as a possible threat. Though he seemed to be at ease, there was no doubt he could launch himself at your throat and roll you under for the kill before you even saw him move.

Yeah, Urian could easily see in Styxx the legendary general he'd read about. The one who didn't complain over anything and who had sacrificed and sold his own personal effects to buy supplies for his men. Just the physical scars on his body alone made a mockery of the person Acheron thought him to be.

This was not some pampered prince who'd been waited on hand and foot, and who expected the entire world to bow down to him. In over eleven thousand years, Urian had never seen any man more scarred. Even Styxx's fingers and the backs of his hands said he'd lived a hard and harsh life. For that matter, Styxx barely had the use of his right hand. Two of his fingers, the pinkie and ring, stayed curled against his palm. And the other two didn't fully extend.

More remarkably still, there were just four scars on his face. And one of them was only noticeable if you paid close attention. He had a faint scar beneath his left eye. One that ran along his hairline across his forehead that was covered by his hair most of the time. One that slashed across his right eyebrow, and the one in the center of his upper lip where it'd been forcefully busted open so many times that it'd left a permanent divot and thick vertical line.

The awful condition of Styxx's body verified what he'd said about captivity. As did his knowledge of the temples. There was nothing left inside any of the buildings to say who they belonged to and not even Acheron knew.

But Styxx did.

And what really screwed with Urian's head was the fact that Styxx had been imprisoned for more than eleven thousand years. Alone. It was mind-blowing. He would call the man a liar for that, but again, the scars and his calm acceptance of Acheron dumping him here and forgetting about him testified to the fact that Styxx was more than used to isolation and neglect. More than used to scrounging for scraps to eat.

And all Styxx had asked for was drinking water.

He still couldn't believe how humble a request that was.

"I brought you more food," Urian said, trying to break the sudden awkward silence.

"It wasn't necessary."

"Having seen the shit you had on your plate when I brought in the spaghetti, I'm going to respectfully disagree." Urian headed back to the other room and didn't miss the fact that Styxx kept a lot of empty space between them. He also walked at an angle so that he could see if Urian was reaching for a weapon.

The way Styxx did it, it was hardwired into him. That, too, made a mockery of the pampered prince bullshit.

Styxx froze as he saw the abundance of food Urian had brought in a large plastic box. "Bread?" he whispered, awed by the precious sight of it.

"Yeah, that's the white stuff in the plastic bag."

His mouth watered at the thought of tasting bread again....

Urian stepped back so that Styxx would look through the box and see what else it contained.

Styxx's heart raced in excitement at the glorious amount of food. It'd been thousands of years since he'd last had a surplus like this. A lot of it, he had no idea what it was. But it was food ... Peanut butter. Beef jerky. Deviled ham ...

Why would ham be possessed?

It didn't matter. He'd eat it anyway.

Styxx jerked his hand back as he touched a bag of apples. For a full minute, he couldn't breathe as he saw himself as a boy in his room.

"Here, brother." Then Acheron would roll one through the hole in the wall for him to catch it.

His throat tightened as he moved his hand away and put the items back into the box to cover the apples. "Thank you."

Urian picked up another box that he'd set on the floor. "I have your water and more wine in this one. And I put candles and a lighter in here, too."

Styxx placed the lid on top of the box. "Thank you, but I won't need those."

"It's really dark in here."

Styxx shrugged. "I'm used to it. Besides, if Acheron sees a light, there's no telling how he'll react, and I don't want to fight with him. Most of all, I don't want him to take away what little freedom I have."

Or confine me in a temple where they raped and beat me.

"Okay. I'll ... um ... I'll bring more food after tomorrow."

Styxx smiled at Urian. "Careful, you keep this up and I won't have anything to occupy myself with."

Urian's phone rang. Excusing himself, he pulled it out and turned it on. "Hey, Cass, is everything all right?"

Styxx heard a woman on the other end as she asked Urian to come stay for a few days in a place he'd never heard of before.

"Sure. I don't mind babysitting. You know that. I love your rugrats.... Yeah, see you soon. Love you, too." He hung up.

"Your wife?" Styxx made the most natural assumption given the love he'd heard in Urian's voice as he spoke to her.

"My wife's sister."

"Ah. So does your wife live in the main temple with you?"

Urian reached to touch the necklace he wore in a manner that reminded Styxx of how he used to caress Bethany's necklace on his wrist. "No. She died."

"I am extremely sorry. I know how hard that is."

"I appreciate it, but I had a very special bond with my Phoebe. And she was killed when I should have been there to protect her."

Styxx swallowed hard as his own tears rose up to choke him. "I do know your pain, Urian. My wife was murdered by Acheron's mother while she was pregnant with our first child. And I have absolutely nothing left of them, except my memories."

Urian's gaze fell to his arm. "Bethany and Galen?"

He nodded. "I had no other way to honor them. I never even got to see their bodies." He cleared his throat. "You need to go to your family. Don't keep them waiting."

"What about you?"

Styxx laughed. "I assure you, I'll be here when you get back."

Urian gave him an ancient salute that Styxx quickly returned then left to head up the hill. But with every step he took, he had a strange feeling. Like he knew Styxx from somewhere. The man was so familiar to him.

He is Acheron's twin.

There was that.

And it wasn't like you didn't obsess over him as a kid or anything. He laughed as he remembered his father banning him from even saying Styxx's name in his presence.

"If I hear you speak of that Didymosian bastard one more time, Urian, I will beat you until you can't sit down. And stop dressing like him! He was an enemy to Atlantis and Apollymi."

For that matter, Urian had Styxx's phoenix emblem tattooed on his biceps. Best not to ever let him see that, though. It might freak him out. But then Urian was used to keeping it covered. It'd been another thing that had enraged his father.

Urian paused to look back at the dark temple. Had he not been out for a walk earlier and heard the faint splashing, he'd have never known Styxx was in there. And he'd almost ignored it and kept going. Only his centuries of heightened nerves and incessant need to check and lock down his perimeter had caused him to investigate the foreign noise.

As he resumed the path to the main hall, he couldn't understand Acheron's reasoning where Styxx was concerned. Having lost all his brothers, he'd give anything to see one of them again. Even Archimedes, who'd bullied and shoved him to the point Urian had wanted to rip his heart out. The two of them could barely be in a room that they didn't walk out bruised from the unfortunate event.

Yet even so, he'd welcome that asshole back if he could.

"Dang, Ash. Who in their right mind throws out a perfectly good brother?"

November 1, 2008

Styxx sighed in his sleep as he felt a gentle hand in his hair. Chills shook him while the scent of Bethany filled his head.

"Beth?" he breathed, opening his eyes. He rolled over then jumped away as he saw a very tiny auburn-haired woman who bore no resemblance to Bethany at all.

She pulled back with an equal amount of wariness.

It took Styxx a minute to find her in Acheron's memories. Her name was Danger. A former Dark-Hunter who'd died, she was the female spirit who had married Alexion. The two of them lived in Acheron's temple and kept it for him.

"You must be..."-the monster-"Styxx."

He'd heard her catch loud and clear. "You should be going."

She tsked at him. "I kept wondering where my food was vanishing off to. Any idea how hard it is to keep a Charonte stocked in Ding Dongs when half the stash gets confiscated?"

He pulled the blankets higher to keep himself covered from her curious gaze. Her eyes widened as she saw the scars on his arms, hands, and upper chest.

"I didn't mean to startle you. Who's Beth?"

"My wife ... was my wife."

She frowned. "I didn't know you were married. Acheron never mentioned that. Beth isn't a Greek name, is it?"

"She was Egyptian."

Danger cocked her head to study his forearm. "And Galen?"

"You read Greek?"