“As soon as I can. Not long, my angel.”
Cassandra walked with him, out of Andronika’s hearing range. “You must come back, Niko. I need you. Andronika needs you. You do what you need to do and then come back to us.”
He pulled her into his arms. She pressed her tear-streaked face against his chest.
“Of course. Just don’t leave until I do, or I’ll never find you.”
“We’ll be right here.”
“And I’ll be back.”
He kissed her, long and heavy, and she soaked in the feeling, remembering it, hoping it wasn’t the last time.
Chapter 10
Jordan spent his years proving himself to the Ancients, doing their fighting and bidding. He learned their ways and their purpose: harvesting human souls for Satan. As Jordan gained the Ancients’ approval, they rewarded him with more power. But it still wasn’t enough. He wanted what all the other Daemoni had—the strength, endurance, speed and ruthlessness of the Weres; the magick of the mages; and, most of all, the invincibility and immortality of the vampyres. Father’s blood was not enough. Father had, after all, died. And Jordan did not want to die. He deserved more.
He and Eris began work on a potion to give him all the best qualities of the others. This was why he needed her—only she could provide the level of magick necessary and she believed in their goal. She was nearly as obsessed as he with his rise to the top, believing he’d take her and their son with him. Of course, he would take Deimos, knowing his son had immense potential to follow in his lead. Eris, on the other hand … he hadn’t yet decided. She’d been quite useful so far, but would she be once they achieved their goal? He wasn’t sure he could trust her then.
He had also become less attracted to her as the years passed. The power she put into the potions drained her and her true age began to show. Her body lost its luscious curves, creases lined her face and her once silky, raven hair was streaked with coarse, gray strands. At the same time, her potions appeared to have stopped him from aging at all. His speed increased, his power grew, his senses became nearly equal to those of the vampyre, and his own appeal and the effect he had on women improved even more. Why should he settle for the old witch Eris when he could have anyone?
For now, he still needed her. Although he had gained many of the others’ qualities, he still lacked invincibility and immortality. They continuously tested his skin and it still bled under the blade. Unlike the vampyres, whose skin, he’d noticed, was impossible to penetrate.
“Zardok wants to see you,” Eris said as soon as he returned home after several weeks at battle.
“Perfect timing,” he muttered. All he wanted to do was clean himself and sleep, but not even he could ignore the summon of Zardok, an Ancient. The magickal pull was very real and physical, like a hook in his gut, reeling him to the Ancients. The longer he waited, the stronger and more painful the pull.
“It is, actually,” Eris said, bringing him a bowl of stew. “I believe I’ve figured out the potion and we just need one more ingredient. Just one and you will have immortality.”
“And then you can take over the Daemoni army,” Deimos said, appearing in the doorway with a satchel overflowing with herbs. “Just what you’ve always wanted.”
Jordan eyed his son, surprised that he seemed to have grown again just in the short time he’d been gone. Only a few more years and a few more inches and Deimos would be a man. His son sat on the floor next to him and Eris handed him a bowl.
“So what is this one ingredient and what does Zardok have to do with it?” Jordan asked before taking a bite.
“We need his blood,” Eris said matter-of-factly.
Jordan spewed stew out of his mouth. Deimos laughed. Jordan ignored him.
“Are you crazy, woman?” he demanded. “He’s an Ancient. The most powerful vampyre.”
“The original vampyre,” Eris added. “That’s why we need it. We can finish the potion and then you’ll be nearly as powerful as the Ancients.”
Jordan stared at her for several long moments, not knowing whether to shake some sense into her or admire her for such tenacity. He finally just shook his head.
“How do you expect me to get blood from Zardok? I doubt he’ll just give it to me.”
“Of course not. But you’re clever, Jordan. You’ll figure it out, if you want this badly enough.”
He growled. She already knew just how badly he wanted it. He would have to find a way.
Zardok scared Jordan, not an easy thing to do. Jordan towered over the vampyre’s ancient body, so it wasn’t his size, or the stark contrast of his dark hair against his pale, nearly transparent skin or even his red eyes. Just as some people exuded love or anxiety or hostility, Zardok exuded overwhelming terror. With time and his own power, Jordan had learned to block vampyres’ powers, so he no longer felt fear when he was around them. Except for Zardok. The vampyre was too old and too powerful—a demon in human form.
Eris had once explained that a true demon offered Zardok, the human, eternal life in exchange for his soul. Zardok had been the leader of his clan and ruled them with cruelty and fear while leading them to attack and destroy other clans. He wanted power over everyone and the demon’s offer was one he couldn’t reject. He’d be superior to all the others. No one could kill him. He’d rule all the lands. So he surrendered his soul, accepted the evil spirit into his body and transformed. Now, rather than a kingdom of humans, he fathered a family of the fiercest and most dangerous predators on Earth. But they had their problems.
“We need to build our army, Jordan,” Zardok said from his throne in the circular room far underneath the Earth’s surface. The other thrones sat empty, most of the Ancients absent, except for a few who stood in shadows near the fires. “There is a prophecy that God himself will be coming to Earth in human form. He will be called God’s son, if the prophecy is true.”
Not all prophecies were, but apparently this one had the Ancients worried.
“So you would like an army who can kill him, defeat God, so Our Lord may reign?” Jordan asked.
Zardok laughed. “We wish it were so simple. Our Lord will use his spirits to try to tempt the son, but we would still not defeat God so easily. Our worry is in the rest of the prophecy—that the son’s death will allow humans to give their souls to God by a simple decision. Good deeds, which are so easily thwarted by us now, will no longer be necessary to join God in Heaven. They will simply have to choose to believe in him, accept the son’s sacrifice and repent for their so-called sins for Our Lord to lose their souls forever.”
“We must keep them from believing then,” Jordan said.
“Yes. In case this prophecy comes true. We can kill them before they believe and Our Lord will have their souls. Or we can make them one of us and they can see that Our Lord is the better god.”
“You want to convert more humans into Daemoni?”
“Perfect, isn’t it? We win their souls and grow our army at the same time and eventually, we rule all humans. They will bow to only us, forgetting their God.” Zardok stood and paced, his excitement growing. “Vampyres will create more vampyres. Weres will create more of their own by infecting humans. We will release the bind on mages that prohibit them from mating with humans and allow them to spread their magick. Our numbers will grow until we outnumber humans and those that remain will be our slaves. We will have conquered Earth and God will have no choice but to relinquish his power. Our Lord will win!”
“What about the other gods—Zeus and the others? We will need to defeat them first.”
Zardok stopped his pacing and laughed. “There are no other gods. Our Lord sent faeries into this realm to pose as gods and goddesses, distracting the humans and making them unbelievers in the truth. The faeries do it for the attention and adoration.”
Jordan pondered this for a moment—first, that faeries existed, which he had not known, and second, the distraction they’d been providing to the very people he had lived among.
“Since they are unbelievers, we should target them first,” he said. “I know firsthand they have very strong warriors and they’re always fighting each other for power over the land I come from. We should take those
