CHAPTER ONE STRIDER, KEEPER OF THE DEMON of Defeat, burst through the towering front doors of the Budapest fortress he shared with a growing cast of friends—brothers and sisters by circumstance rather than blood, but al the closer for it— fighting a rush of undeniable pleasure. He’d freaking done it, man. Done. It. After chasing his enemy cross-continent, bargaining away one of the four godly relics needed to find and destroy Pandora’s box— and yeah, he was gonna get spanked hard for that—then, after being eaten alive by insects and at one point (cough) walking into a chick’s knife (cough), he’d final y won. And damn if he wasn’t ready to celebrate. “I’m king of the world, bitches. Come in here and bask in my glory.” His voice echoed through the foyer, expectant, eager. No one returned the greeting. Stil . Grinning, he shifted the unconscious female draped over his shoulder into a more comfortable position. More comfortable for him. She was the enemy he’d been chasing, as wel as the chick who’d oh, so impolitely introduced his pancreas to the freaking hilt of her blade. He could hardly wait to tel everyone that he’d done what they hadn’t. He’d bagged and tagged her, baby. He cal ed, “Daddy’s home. Somebody? Anybody?” Again, there was no response. His grin dul ed