The Dark-Hunters (153 page)

Again she felt motion on the seat as someone got off. Since Zarek’s arms were still around her, she assumed it must be Spawn.

“Thanks,” Spawn said. “I never expected Zarek of Moesia to come to my rescue.”

“Ditto, Spawn. Since when do Daimons fight their own kind?”

Spawn’s voice dripped with venom. “I was never a Daimon, Roman.”

“And I was never a fucking Roman.”

Spawn gave a short, bitter laugh. “Truce, then?”

She felt Zarek shift behind her.

“Truce.” Zarek seemed to turn around and look in the direction they had come from. “You have any idea what that thing after me is?”

“Think Terminator. The only difference is that he has the sanction of Artemis.”

“What do you mean?”

“My people have a legend of the Dayslayer. It says that Artemis chose one of our own to be her personal guard. More beloved than any of her people, the Dayslayer has no known vulnerability. Once he’s unleashed, his goal is to destroy Dark-Hunters.”

“So you’re telling me he’s the Bogeyman?”

“You doubt me?”

“No. Not after what I’ve seen.”

She heard Spawn let out a long breath. “I heard that Artemis had called out a blood hunt for you. I figured it would be Acheron who killed you.”

“Yeah, well, trust me, I’m not executed yet. It’ll take more than that thing to expire me.” Zarek paused. “Just out of curiosity, what are all of you doing up here anyway? Did Acheron call for a reunion and not invite me?”

“Bjorn came because he was chasing a group of Daimons. I came because I felt the Summoning.”

“The Summoning?” Astrid asked. In all honesty, she knew very little about the Apollites and Daimons. That was the domain of Apollo and Artemis.

“It’s like a homing beacon,” Spawn explained, “and it’s irresistible to anyone with Apollite blood. I can feel Thanatos even now calling out to me. I think the only reason I can resist it is because I’m a Dark-Hunter. If I weren’t … Let’s just say you’re in for one hell of a scary time.”

Zarek snorted. “Doubtful. So how do I kill him?”

“You don’t. Artemis made him so that he could track and kill us. He has no known vulnerability. Not even daylight. Worse, he will destroy anyone who tries to shelter you.”

Shelter you …

Again, Zarek’s mind flashed to his village.

To the old woman who’d died in his arms …

What was his brain trying to tell him?

“Has Thanatos ever come after me before?” he asked Spawn.

Spawn scoffed. “You’re still living so obviously the answer is no.”

Still …

Zarek got off the snowmachine. “Here, take Astrid and—”

“Did you not hear me, Zarek? I can’t take her. Thanatos will kill her for sheltering you. She’s dead if you leave her.”

“She’s dead if she stays with me.”

“We all got problems and she happens to be yours. Not mine.”

Astrid had the distinct feeling Zarek was flipping Spawn off.

“Not on your best day, Greek,” Spawn said, confirming her suspicion.

Zarek sat back down on the snowmachine.

“Hey, Zarek?” Spawn asked. “Do you have a cell phone with you?”

“No, it went down with her house.”

She heard Spawn’s footsteps crunching in the snow as he returned to them. “Take this and call Acheron when you’re safe. Maybe he can help you with the woman.”

“Thanks.” The word was more inflected with belligerence than gratitude. “But what are you going to do without a phone or the snowmachine?”

“Freeze my ass off.” There was a small pause. “Don’t worry about me. I assure you, I’ll be fine.”

Zarek’s arms surrounded her again. She heard him turn the snowmachine back on.

“Where are we going?” she asked him.

“Up Shit Creek sans the paddles.”

11

“Well,” Astrid said, her tone every bit as sarcastic as his, “I hope you have a map. I’ve never been there before.”

“Trust me, I know it like the back of my hand. Been living there most of my life.”

Unsure if she should laugh or groan, Astrid held fast to the tank before her as Zarek pushed the snowmachine to the limits. It vibrated so badly that she half-expected it to disintegrate underneath them.

“Cap’n,” she said in her best Scotty accent. “I don’t think she’ll hold. The warp engines can’t take any more. It’s going to blow apart.”

If she didn’t know better, she’d swear she actually heard a rumble of laughter from Zarek.

“She’ll hold,” he said, his deep, penetrating voice in her right ear. It gave her chills that had nothing to do with the freezing temperature.

“I think I may be grateful for my blindness, after all,” she said. “Something tells me that if I could see the reckless speed you’re driving at, I would probably have a stroke.”

“No doubt.”

She rolled her eyes at his ready agreement. “You have no idea how to comfort anyone, do you?”

“In case you haven’t noticed, princess, social skills aren’t my forte. Hell, you’re lucky I’m housebroke.”

Oh, he was an evil one.

But there was something almost charming about his caustic retorts. They were angry and biting, but seldom mean-spirited, and now that she had seen the real Zarek, the one he kept hidden from everyone, she knew those barbs for what they were.

Armor.

They were sent out to keep everyone away from him. If you let no one into your heart, then you never had to be hurt by betrayal.

She didn’t know how he stood living like that. In constant pain and loneliness. Letting hatred guide everything he did or said.

Zarek was a harsh man filled with more venom than the nine-headed Hydra. But even the Hydra had eventually met its match.

Tonight, Zarek had met his and it wasn’t Thanatos.

Astrid wasn’t going to give up on him.

They rode until her ears buzzed and her body was cold all the way to her bones. She wondered if she’d ever again be able to thaw out.

Zarek, who seemed oblivious to the freezing weather, continually zigzagged their course, as if trying to keep Thanatos from following them.

Just when she was sure that the concept that immortals couldn’t die of frostbite was a myth, Zarek finally stopped.

He turned off the engine.

The sudden silence was deafening. Oppressive.

She waited for Zarek to get up and help her off the snowmachine, but all he did was tug the helmet off her head. He pitched it away with a curse.

She heard it hit the ground, then silence returned and was broken only by their breathing.

Zarek’s rage reached out to her like a tangible menace. It was vibrant and frightening.

Part of him wanted to hurt her, she could sense it, but underneath that she felt his pain.

“Who are you?” Zarek’s voice was demanding and every bit as cold as the arctic winter. He kept his arms around her and his voice was right in her ear.

“I told you.”

“You lied to me, princess,” he growled. “I might not be able to read minds, but I know you’re not what you appear. Human women don’t have Katagaria companions. I want to know who you really are and why you were dicking around in my dreams.”

She was shaking from nervousness. What would he do with her now?

Would he leave her for Thanatos?

She was scared to tell him the truth, and yet lies weren’t something she practiced unless she had to.

He had a right to be angry at her. Not that she had lied to him; she’d only neglected to tell him a few things. Things such as her real purpose, why she had helped him, and the fact that the wolf he hated could become a man …

Well, she had lied about Sasha being dead, but Sasha had deserved it.

And she had drugged him.

Yeah, okay, so she wasn’t up for Miss Congeniality this year, but then, neither was Zarek.

Especially not in his current mood.

Zarek’s warm breath fell against her exposed cheek. “What are you?” he repeated.

Astrid decided the time for deceit was over. He deserved to know the truth, and since Artemis had already broken the agreement and sent in Thanatos, what was the point of shielding the goddess any further?

“I’m a nymph.”

“I hope you just left an important syllable off that word, princess.”

“Excuse me?” It took a second for her to understand what he meant. When she did her face flamed. “I am not a nympho! I’m a nymph.
Nymph.
No
o!
”

He didn’t move or speak for several minutes.

Zarek let out his breath slowly as he considered the woman in front of him and tried for once to rein in his fury.

A friggin’ nymph. He should have known it was something like that.

Oh, yeah, right. Like the idea of a Greek nymph in Alaska was something that should have occurred to him. Her kind usually hung around beaches, oceans, and forests or stayed on Olympus.

They didn’t pop in during a blizzard and drag a wounded Dark-Hunter into their homes.

His stomach shrank as the reason for her presence slammed into him.

Someone had sent her here.

For him.

He gripped the handlebars fiercely, unwilling to let go for fear of what he might do to her. “What kind of nymph are you, princess?”

“Justice,” she said quietly. “I serve Themis and I was sent here to judge you.”

“Judge
me
?” He let out an extremely disgusted sound. “Oh, you’re un-friggin-believable.”

Zarek had never wanted to hurt anyone so much in his life. Getting up from the snowmachine before he yielded to his temper, he put space between them.

Was this his luck or what?

He’d finally found someone whom he thought didn’t judge him and she really
was
a judge whose sole purpose was to pass judgment on him and the way he lived.

Oh, yeah, he really knew how to pick them.

The gods were still laughing at him. Mocking him.

All of them.

Enraged, he paced around the snowmachine so that he could watch her sitting on the seat, looking all prim and proper with her hands folded in her lap and her head down.

All ladylike.

How dare she screw with him like this! Who did she think she was?

He was tired of people messing with him. Tired of games and of lies.

A judge. Acheron had sent in a judge before they killed him. Ooo, Zarek was just tickled pink by the consideration.

Maybe he should be flattered that they even gave him a pretense of impartiality. It was a hell of a lot more than he’d gotten as an accused slave.

“This was all just a game to you, wasn’t it, princess? ‘Come, Zarek, sit on my lap. Tell me why you won’t behave.’” His vision turned dark. Deadly. “Fuck you, lady, and fuck them.”

Her head snapped up. “Zarek, please!”

“So what, you decided Acheron was right? I’m psychotic, so send in your dogs to kill me?”

She got up and turned to where she heard his voice coming from. “No. Thanatos wasn’t supposed to be sent in after you. As for Acheron, he would never convict you. If not for him, you’d be dead now. He bartered who knows what with Artemis so that I could come to you and find a way to save your life.”

He snorted. “Yeah, right.”

“It’s the truth, Zarek,” she said, her voice sincere. “Deny it all you want to, but it doesn’t change the fact that we are on your side.”

He raked her with a repugnant glare he only wished she could see to appreciate. “I ought to leave you here to freeze to death. Oh, wait, you’re an immortal nymph. You can’t die.”

She lifted her chin and stood as if braced to take on his worst. “You can leave me if you want to. But the man I have come to know isn’t so callous or cruel. He would never leave someone to die.”

He ground his teeth. “You know nothing about me.”

Astrid left the snowmachine. Walking slowly, she reached out with her hand, wanting physical contact with him. She needed it, and something told her he did, too. “I’ve been inside you, Zarek. I know what no one else does.”

“So what? Is that supposed to make me all warm and cuddly for you? Look, the little princess stole into my dreams to save me. Ooo, I’m so touched. Should I cry now?”

She grabbed his arm.

His muscles, like him, were tense and hard. Fierce. “Stop it!”

She reached up to touch his ice-cold cheeks with both of her hands. They were chafed from the ride, and yet they still managed to warm her icy fingers.

Half-expecting him to pull away, she was amazed when he didn’t. He stood there like a statue. Unmoving. Cold. Inflexible.

Astrid swallowed, wishing for a way to make him understand. Wishing for a way she could reach him so that he would stop being so self-destructive.

Why wouldn’t he see the truth?

Zarek couldn’t breathe as she cupped his face in her warm hands. She was so beautiful, with tiny sparkling snowflakes on her eyelashes and blonde hair. He saw the pain on her face, the softness.

She seemed to want to help him and yet he couldn’t make himself believe that.

People were always self-serving. All of them.

She was no exception.

And yet, he wanted to believe in her.

He did want to cry.

What had she done to him?

For a brief time in his dreams he had begun to think that maybe he wasn’t so bad. That he deserved some kind of happiness.

Gods, he was such a fool.

How could he have been so stupid and trusting? He knew better.

Trust was only a weapon that was used to kill people.

It had no place in his world.

Astrid stroked his cheeks with her thumbs. “I don’t want you to die, Zarek.”

“Here’s the kicker, princess. I do.”

Tears filled her eyes and melted the snowflakes on her lashes. “I don’t believe you. Thanatos would have gladly given you that wish and yet you fought him. Why?”

“Habit.”

She closed her eyes as if frustrated with him. Her grip tightened on his face, then to his complete shock, she burst out laughing. “You really can’t help it, can you?”

He was completely baffled by her reaction. “Help what?”

“Being an asshole,” she said, her voice broken by laughter.

As she continued to laugh, he stared at her in disbelief. No one had dared laugh at him before. At least not since the day he’d died.