Sherrilyn Kenyon - Dance With The Devil

Tall, thin, and extremely attractive, she was dressed in a black sweater and jeans. Most any other guy would have probably made a move on her by now, and one night about four years ago, she had insinuated that if he ever wanted something more intimate from her she would gladly give it, but Zarek had refused.

He didn't like people getting too close to him, and women had a nasty tendency of viewing sex as meaningful.

He didn't. Sex was sex. It was basic and animalistic. Something the body needed like it needed food. But a guy didn't have to promise a steak he was going to date it before he ate it.

So why did women need a testament of affection before they opened their legs?

He didn't get it.

And he would never become involved with Sharon. Sex with her was one complication he didn't need.

"Zarek, is that you?"

He lowered the scarf over his face and shouted back. "Yeah, it's me."

"Are you coming in?"

"I'll be back in a minute. I have to go buy a few things."

She nodded, then went back inside and shut the door.

Zarek made his way to the store down the street from her house. Frank's General Store had some of everything in it. Best of all, it had a wide variety of electronics and generators. Unfortunately, he wouldn't be able to use the shop much longer. He'd been a fairly regular customer for about fifteen years now, and though Frank was a bit dense, he had started noticing the fact that Zarek hadn't aged in all that time.

Sooner or later, Sharon would notice it too and he would have to give up his only contact in the mortal world.

That was the big drawback of immortality. He didn't dare hang around anyone for long or they'd find out who and what he was. And unlike the other Dark-Hunters, every time he had requested a Squire to serve him and protect his identity, the Council had denied it.

It seemed his reputation was such that no one wanted the duty of helping him.

Fine. He'd never needed anyone anyway.

Zarek entered the store and took a minute to pull his goggles and gloves off and unbutton his coat. He heard Frank in the back talking to one of his clerks.

"Now listen up, kid. He's kind of a strange man, but you better be nice to him, you hear me? He spends a ton of money in this store and I don't care how scary he looks, you be nice."

The two of them came out from the back. Frank stopped dead in his tracks to stare at him.

Zarek stared back. Frank was used to seeing him with a goatee or beard, his sword-and-crossbones earring, and the silver claws he wore on his left hand. Three things Acheron had ordered him to abandon in New Orleans.

He knew what he looked like beardless and he hated it. But at least he didn't have to look at himself in a mirror. Dark-Hunters could only cast a reflection when they wanted to.

Zarek had never wanted to.

The elderly man smiled a smile that was more habitual than friendly and ambled toward him. Even though the people of Fairbanks were exceedingly friendly, most of them still tended to cut a wide berth around Zarek.

He had that effect on people.

"What can I get for you today?" Frank asked.

Zarek glanced at the teenager, who was watching him curiously. "I need a new generator."

Frank sucked in his breath between his teeth and Zarek waited for what he knew was coming. "There might be a bit of a problem there."

Frank always said that. No matter what Zarek needed, it was going to be a problem to get it, hence he would have to pay top dollar for it.

Frank scratched the gray whiskers on his bearded face. "I've only got the one left and it's supposed to be delivered to the Wallabys tomorrow."

Yeah, right.

Zarek was too tired to play Frank's haggling game tonight. At this point, he was willing to pay anything to get the electricity back on in his house. "If you'll let me have it, there's an extra six grand in it for you."

Frank scowled and continued to scratch his beard. "Well now, there's another problem. Wallaby be wanting it real bad."

"Ten grand, Frank, and another two if you can get it over to Sharon's house within the hour."

Frank beamed. "Tony, you heard the man, get his generator loaded up." The old man's eyes were light and almost friendly. "You be needing anything else?"

Zarek shook his head and left.

He made his way back toward Sharon's and did his best to ignore the biting winds.

He knocked on her door before he shouldered it open and entered. Oddly enough, the living room was empty. This time of night, Sharon's daughter Trixie was usually running around, playing and screaming like a demon or doing homework under extreme protest. He didn't even hear her in the back rooms.

For a second, he thought maybe the Squires had found him, but that was ridiculous. No one knew about Sharon. Zarek wasn't exactly on speaking terms with the Squires' Council or other Dark-Hunters.

"Hey, Sharon?" he called. "Everything okay?"

She walked slowly down the hall from the direction of the kitchen. "You're back."

A bad feeling settled over him. Something wasn't right. He could sense it. She seemed nervous.

"Yeah. Is something up? I didn't crash a date or anything, did I?"

And then he heard it. It was the sound of a man breathing, of heavy footsteps leaving the kitchen.

The man came down the hall with a slow, methodical walk—like a predator taking its time getting the lay of the landscape while it patiently watched its prey.

Zarek frowned as the man stopped in the hallway behind Sharon. Standing only about an inch shorter than Zarek, he had long dark brown hair pulled back into a ponytail and he wore a Western-style outback duster. There was a deadly quick aura around the man and as soon as their eyes met, Zarek knew he'd been betrayed.

This was another Dark-Hunter.

And there was only one out of the thousands of Dark-Hunters who knew about Sharon and him…

Zarek cursed his own stupidity.

The Dark-Hunter inclined his head toward him. "Z," he drawled in a thick Southern accent Zarek knew only too well. "Me and you need to talk."

Zarek couldn't breathe as he stared at Sharon and Sundown together. Sundown was the only person he had ever opened himself up to in his entire two thousand plus years of living.

And he knew why Sundown was here.

Sundown alone knew Zarek. Knew his haunts, his habits.

Who better to hunt him down and kill him than his own best friend?

"Talk about what?" he asked gruffly, narrowing his eyes.

Sundown moved to stand in front of Sharon as if to protect her. That he would think for even an instant that Zarek would threaten her hurt most of all. "I think you know why I'm here, Z."

Yeah, he knew all right. He knew exactly what Sundown wanted with him. A nice, quick death so that Sundown could report back to Artemis and Acheron that everything was right again in the world, and then the cowboy would return home to Reno.

But Zarek had gone quietly to his execution once before. This time, he intended to fight for his life, such as it was.

"Forget it, Jess," he said, using Sundown's real name.

He turned and ran for the door.

Zarek made it back into the yard before Sundown caught him and pulled him to a stop. He bared his fangs at him, but Jess didn't seem to notice.

Zarek punched him hard in the stomach. It was a powerful strike that made Jess stagger back and it brought Zarek to his knees. Any time one Dark-Hunter attacked another one, the Dark-Hunter who attacked felt the blow ten times worse than the one who received it. There was only one way to avoid this—for Artemis to lift her ban. He just hoped she hadn't lifted it from Jess.

Zarek struggled to breathe from the pain of it and forced himself to his feet. Unlike Jess, physical pain was something he was used to.