Free Inferno by Sherrilyn Kenyon

when I was born. Others are major pains in my posterior more times than they should be.”
    A weird chill went down Nick’s spine at that last bit. It was something Ash said about him. A lot. Could Ash possibly know what he was?
    No, there was no way. Ash wouldn’t have been so lackadaisical about it if he knew. In fact, given his devotion to humans, Acheron would most likely kill him if he ever learned Nick was a Malachai.
    “Acheron? I didn’t know you were still in town.”
    Ash turned as Kyrian joined them in Nick and Rosa’s office. At six foot five, Kyrian didn’t look up at many men, but Ash was one of the few. Blond, well muscled, and with features a cover model would envy, he had a presence every bit as fierce as Acheron’s. His blond curls were slicked back and wet from his shower, but he was dressed in his usual all-black high-fashion designer style.
    In his human life, Kyrian had been a renowned Greek prince and general. That aura of commanding nobility still bled from every precise gesture he made. Even his stance said, “bow down before me or get your throat cut.”
    Ash shook Kyrian’s hand. “Given the strange vibe we encountered last night, I decided to stay on for a bit longer.”
    Nick frowned. “What strange vibe?”
    Kyrian rubbed at his shoulder as if he’d been injured the night before. “We found a group of Daimons who actually fought back with a great deal of skill, instead of running away like they normally do.”
    “Did you get them?”
    “No,” Acheron answered before Kyrian had a chance. “Which is another reason I’m staying a little longer than planned.”
    Kyrian glared at Acheron. “You know, Acheron, I led entire armies up against Rome’s finest. I think I can handle this without a babysitter.”
    “And when you were going up against Rome, I daresay you had more than you, Xander, and Talon in your army.”
    “I really hate it when you use logic against me.” Kyrian crossed his arms over his chest.
    “Xander?” Nick asked Acheron, wondering about the unfamiliar name.
    “Another Dark-Hunter here in New Orleans.”
    Nick gaped. “There’s a third Dark-Hunter and you’re just now telling me this?”
    “We actually have four here,” Kyrian said. “But Rogue speaks even less than Xander does.”
    Nick looked back and forth between them. “And … why am I just now finding out about this?”
    Ash shrugged. “Need to know … and you didn’t.”
    Yeah, it said a lot about how secretive they were and the fact that as Kyrian’s human Squire, Nick was supposed to be privy to all Dark-Hunter details, especially those that concerned or mattered to him. “Aren’t you guys afraid I’d see one of them and stake them by mistake?”
    “Nope,” Ash said. “They’re not blond. That’s the only reason we told you about Talon. We figured if you ran across Xander or Kit, you’d think they were some other species.”
    That was the thing about Daimons, since they didn’t intermingle with other species, they were all natural blondes.
    “Who’s Kit?” Nick asked with a frown. “Is that another one?”
    Kyrian shook his head. “Rogue’s real name isn’t Rogue. His parents weren’t that cruel. It’s Christopher Boughy, or Kit.”
    “Why does he go by Rogue, then? Is he an X-Men fan?”
    Ash sighed. “FYI, I wouldn’t crack that joke around him. I doubt his High Surliness would be amused and he tends to be fast with a blade to the throat. Back in the eighteenth century, he was an English highwayman known as the Black Rogue. Rogue for short.”
    “Oh.”
    “So, Acheron,” Kyrian said, hijacking their conversation. “What happened to your car? I saw the busted fender on it. How unlike you to crash into anything.”
    Nick cringed as Acheron turned toward him with an arched brow.
    “Hey now,” Nick said, holding his hands up in defense of himself, “it was not my fault. I was minding my own business when that trash can went suicidal, came out of nowhere, and