The Dark-Hunters by Sherrilyn Kenyon Page A

rolled for several yards before finally coming to a stop.
    He lay on his side, unmoving.
    Total chaos broke out everywhere as people screamed and shouted, and crowded around the accident.
    Terrified, Grace trembled all over as she pushed her way through the crowd, trying to reach Julian. “Please be okay, please be okay,” she whispered, over and over, praying both of them had survived being hit.
    As she finally broke through the people around him, she realized he hadn’t let go of the child. The boy was still carefully cradled in his arms.
    Unable to believe the sight, Grace paused, her heart hammering.
    Were they alive?
    “Never saw nothing like that in my life,” a man said beside her.
    His sentiment was echoed everywhere.
    Slowly, fearfully, Grace approached Julian as he started to move.
    “Are you all right?” she heard him ask the child.
    The small toddler answered with a screaming wail.
    Oblivious to the piercing sound, Julian rose carefully with the boy in his arms.
    Relieved they were alive, Grace couldn’t believe her eyes. How in the world could he move?
    How had he managed to keep his hold on the boy through all that?
    He staggered back a step, then quickly caught his balance, all the while maintaining his grip on the child.
    Grace steadied him with a hand against his spine. “You shouldn’t stand,” she told Julian as she saw the blood that coated his left arm.
    Julian didn’t seem to hear her.
    His eyes were dark and strange looking. “Sh, little one,” he said, holding the boy with one arm while he cupped the child’s face with the other.
    Moving only his upper body, he gently rocked the boy in the soothing, confident pattern only a parent would use. His gaze haunted, Julian laid his cheek against the top of the boy’s head. “Sh, I’ve got you,” he murmured. “You’re safe now.”
    His actions startled her. It was apparent this was a man who had soothed children before.
    But when would a Greek soldier have been around children…?
    Unless he’d been a father.
    Grace’s mind whirled at the possibility as Julian carefully handed the sobbing boy to his hysterical mother who wailed even louder than the toddler.
    Dear Lord, was it possible that Julian could be a father? If so, where were his children?
    What had happened to them?
    “Steven,” his mother wept as she held the boy against her chest. “How many times have I told you to stay by my side?”
    “Are you okay?” the father and the driver asked Julian.
    Grimacing, Julian ran his hand over his left bicep as if testing the arm. “I’m fine,” he said, but Grace noted the way he still favored his right leg where the car had hit him.
    “You need a doctor,” she said as Selena joined them.
    “I’m fine. Really.” Julian gave her a halfhearted smile, then lowered his voice so that only she could hear it. “But I have to say, chariots hurt a lot less than cars when they slam into you.”
    Grace was aghast at his misplaced humor. “How can you make a joke? I thought you were dead.”
    He shrugged.
    As the man continued to thank him profusely for saving his son, Grace glanced at the blood on Julian’s arm just above his elbow. Blood that evaporated from his skin like some weird science fiction movie effect.
    Suddenly, Julian put his full weight back on his injured leg, and the pain crimping his brow vanished.
    She exchanged a wide-eyed stare with Selena, who had also seen it. What the hell was that?
    Was Julian human or not?
    “I can’t thank you enough,” the father said again. “I thought he was dead.”
    “I’m just glad I saw him,” Julian whispered. He reached a hand out toward the boy’s head.
    His fingers were about to brush the light brown curls when he paused. Grace watched emotions war on Julian’s face before he recovered his stoicism and dropped his hand back to his side.
    Without a word, he headed to the curb.
    “Julian?” she asked, rushing to catch up to him. “Are you really okay?”
    “Don’t worry