DANCE WITH THE DEVIL
Dark-Hunter Series, Book 4
Sherrilyn Kenyon
NEW ORLEANS
THE DAY AFTER MARDI GRAS
Zarek leaned back in his seat as the helicopter took off. He was going home to Alaska.
No doubt he would die there.
If Artemis didn't kill him, he was sure Dionysus would. The god of wine and excess had been most explicit in his displeasure over Zarek's betrayal and in what he intended to do to Zarek as punishment.
For Sunshine Runningwolf's happiness, Zarek had crossed a god who was sure to make him suffer even worse horrors than those in his human past.
Not that he cared. There wasn't much in life or death that Zarek had ever cared about.
He still didn't know why he'd put his ass on the line for Talon and Sunshine, other than the fact that pissing people off was the only thing that truly gave him pleasure.
His gaze fell to his backpack that rested by his feet.
Before he realized what he was doing, he took out the handmade bowl that Sunshine had given him and held it in his hands.
It was the only time in his life anyone had given him anything he didn't have to pay for.
He ran his hands over the intricate designs that Sunshine had carved. She had probably spent hours on this bowl.
Caressed it with loving hands…
"They waste their time over a rag doll and it becomes very important to them; and if anybody takes it away from them, they cry…"
The passage from The Little Prince ran through his mind. Sunshine had wasted much of her time on this and given him her hard work for no apparent reason. She probably had no idea just how much her simple gift had touched him.
"You really are pathetic," he breathed, clutching the bowl in his hands as he curled his lip in repugnance. "It meant nothing to her, and for a worthless piece of clay you just consigned yourself to eternal death."
Closing his eyes, he swallowed.
It was true.
One more time, he was going to die for nothing.
"So what?"
Let him die. What did it matter?
If they didn't kill him on the trip in, he'd go out with a good fight, and good fights were all too few and too far between in Alaska.
He looked forward to the challenge.
Angry at himself and the world at large, Zarek splintered the bowl with his thoughts, then brushed the dust off his pants.
Pulling out his MP3 player, he scrolled to Nazareth's Hair of the Dog, put his headphones on, and waited for Mike to lighten the windows of the helicopter and let the lethal sunlight in on him.
It was, after all, what Dionysus had paid the Squire to do, and if the man had a lick of sense he would obey it because if Mike didn't, he was going to wish he had.
Acheron Parthenopaeus was a man of many secrets and powers. As the firstborn Dark-Hunter and leader of their kind, he had set himself up over nine thousand years ago to be the buffer between them and Artemis, the goddess of the hunt, who had created them.
It was a job he seldom relished and a position he'd always hated. Like an errant child, Artemis loved nothing more than to push him just to see how far she could go before he called her down.
Theirs was a complicated relationship that hinged on a balance of power. He alone possessed the ability to keep her calm and rational.
At least most of the time.
Meanwhile she held the one source of food that he needed to stay human. Compassionate.
Without her, he would become a soulless killer even worse than the Daimons who preyed on humankind.
Without him, she would have no heart or conscience.
On Mardi Gras night, he'd bargained with her to exchange two weeks of his servitude so that she would release Talon's soul and allow the Dark-Hunter to leave their service and spend his immortality with the woman he loved.
Talon was liberated from hunting vampires and other demonic creatures who stalked the earth looking for hapless victims.
Now Ash was restricted from using most of his powers while he was locked inside Artemis's temple where he had to rely on her whims to keep him informed about the progress of Zarek's hunt.
He knew the betrayal Zarek felt and it gnawed at him. Better than anyone, he understood what it meant to be left completely alone, to survive on instinct and to have only enemies around him.
Ash couldn't stand the thought of one of his men feeling like that.
"I want you to call off Thanatos," Ash said as he sat on the marble floor at Artemis's feet. She lay across her ivory-colored throne that had always reminded him of an overstuffed chaise lounge. It was decadent and soft, a pure study in hedonistic delight.
Artemis was nothing if not a creature of comfort.
She smiled languidly as she rolled over onto her back. Her white, gauzy peplos displayed more of her body than it covered, and as she moved, her entire lower half was bared to him.
Uninterested, he lifted his gaze to hers.
She trailed a hot, lustful glance over his body, which was bare except for a pair of tight black leather pants. Satisfaction gleamed in her bright green eyes as she toyed with a strand of his long blond hair, which covered the bite wound on his neck. She was well fed and content to be with him.
He was neither.
"You're still weak, Acheron," she said quietly, "and in no position to make demands on me. Besides, your two weeks with me have only begun. Where is the subjugation you promised?"
Ash rose up slowly to tower over her. He braced his arms on each side of her and lowered himself until their noses were almost touching. Her eyes widened a degree, just enough to let him know that in spite of her words, she knew which of them was the more powerful, even while weakened. "Call off your pet, Artie. I mean it. I told you long ago that there was no need for a Thanatos to stalk my Hunters and I'm tired of this game you play. I want him caged."
"No," she said in a tone that was almost petulant. "Zarek is to die. End of symphony. The moment his picture became the nightly news event while he was killing Daimons, he exposed all the Dark-Hunters to danger. We can't afford to let the human authorities ever learn about them. If they ever find Zarek—"
"Who's going to find him? He's locked in the middle of nowhere per your cruelty."
"I didn't put him there, you did. I wanted him killed and you refused. It's all your fault he's banished in Alaska so don't blame me."
Ash curled his lip. "I'm not about to put a man to death because you and your siblings were playing with his life."
He wanted another fate for Zarek. But so far, none of the gods nor Zarek had cooperated.
Damn free will, anyway. It got all of them into more trouble than any of them needed.
She narrowed her eyes at him. "Why do you care so much, Acheron? I'm beginning to feel jealous of this Dark-Hunter and the love you have for him."
Ash pushed himself away from her. She made his concern for one of his men sound obscene.
Of course, she was good at that.
What he felt for Zarek was kindred brotherhood. Better than anyone, he understood the man's motivation. Knew why Zarek struck out in anger and frustration.
There were only so many kicks a dog could take before it turned vicious.
He, himself, was so close to turning that he couldn't fault Zarek for the fact he had gone rabid centuries before.
Even so, he couldn't let Zarek die. Not like this. Not over something that hadn't been Zarek's fault. The incident in the New Orleans alley where Zarek had attacked the human cops had been set up by Dionysus for no other reason than to expose Zarek to the humans and to cause Artemis to call out a blood hunt for the man's life.
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