The Dark-Hunters (158 page)

For a man who was over two thousand years old, he really knew very little about life.

“Tell me, princess. Honestly. How are you going to judge me?”

She didn’t hesitate to respond. “I’m going to acquit you if I can.”

He laughed bitterly at that. “I was condemned for something I didn’t do and acquitted for what I did. There’s something not right about that.”

“Zarek—”

“And will they accept your judgment now?” he asked, interrupting her. “You’re not exactly impartial, are you?”

“I…” Astrid paused as she considered that. “They will accept it. We just have to find a way to prove to them that you are safe to be with other people.”

“You don’t sound too sure about that, princess.”

She wasn’t. Not once in all eternity had she breached the impartiality oath.

With Zarek she had.

“Lie down, Zarek,” she said, pulling at his shoulder. “We both need to rest.”

Zarek did as she said. To his chagrin and delight, she laid her head down on his chest and snuggled close.

He’d never held a woman like this and he found himself running his hand through her long blond hair. Spreading it out over his chest. He tilted his head so that he could look down at her.

She had her eyes closed as she idly traced circles on his chest, around his nipple, which was hard and swollen underneath his black jersey shirt.

He felt a closeness to her that was indescribable. If he knew how, he would wish they could stay like this forever. But dreams and hopes were as alien to him as love and kindness.

Unlike her, he didn’t see a future.

He only saw his death clearly in his mind.

Even if Thanatos didn’t kill him, there was no use wishing he could stay with Astrid.

She was a goddess.

He was a slave.

He had no place in her world any more than he had a place in the realm of mortals.

Alone. He was always alone. And he would remain that way.

It didn’t matter if he survived Thanatos. He was living only to see her safe.

Sighing, he closed his eyes and forced himself to go to sleep again.

*   *   *

Astrid listened to Zarek as he slept. His hand was buried in her hair, and even while unconscious, he held on to her as if afraid to let her go.

She wished she could get inside his head again. Wished for a moment where she could stare into his midnight-black eyes and see the beauty of her dark warrior.

But it wasn’t his face and body that made her burn for him.

It was the man he was inside his battered and bruised heart. The one who was able to create poetry and art. The one who hid his vulnerability behind barbs and stinging retorts.

And she loved him. Even when he was mean and nasty. Even when he was angry.

But then, she understood that part of him.

How could anyone bear so much pain and not be scarred by it?

And what would become of him now?

Even if she did get her judgment to stand she doubted Artemis would ever let him leave Alaska.

He would be trapped here forever.

She shuddered at the thought of his isolation.

And what of her?

How could she go back to her life without him? She actually liked being with him. He was amusing in a very salty sort of way.

“Astrid?”

She lifted her head, amazed at the sound of her name on his lips. It was the first time he’d used it outside of his dreams. She hadn’t even realized he was awake.

“Yes?”

“Make love to me.”

She closed her eyes and savored those words as much as she had savored her name.

Impishly, she arched a brow at him. “Why?”

“Because I need to be inside you right now. I want to feel connected to you.”

Her throat constricted at his words. How could she ever deny him so simple a request?

Astrid rose up on her knees, and straddled his hips. He cupped her face in his hands and pulled her down for a scorching kiss.

She’d never imagined a man could be like this. So tough, and yet so tender.

She nipped his lips and chin with her teeth. “You should be resting.”

“I don’t want to rest. I seldom sleep anyway.”

She knew it was true. The only time he had slept more than a couple of hours at a stretch was when she had drugged him. Judging by what she’d seen of his dreams and what M’Adoc had said, she well understood why.

And in her heart she wanted to soothe him.

She pulled her shirt off over her head.

Zarek swallowed at the sight of her bare breasts and skin. He swelled underneath her. It had only been a few hours since they had screwed.

No, she didn’t screw him.

That was why he needed to feel her now. He desperately craved her hands on his flesh. Her naked body against his.

Because they didn’t screw each other. What they shared was so much more than that. It was basic and primal and it was sublime.

What had she done to him?

But then he knew.

She had done the impossible. She had slid herself inside his dead heart.

Astrid alone made him ache. Made him want.

Made him human.

In her arms, he had discovered his humanity. Even his missing soul.

She meant something to him and he could at least pretend he meant something to her.

He reached down slowly to unzip her pants so that he could slide his hand into her pink cotton panties and sink his fingers down into her moist heat. It still amazed him that she would let him touch her like this.

Granted, women had been much more receptive to him as a Dark-Hunter than they had been when he was a human, but it hadn’t changed him. He’d avoided them, knowing the only reason they were drawn to him now was because Acheron had repaired his body. So he’d snarled at the ones who offered themselves to him and he had only taken a handful of them when he had gotten tired of jerking himself off.

But in the end, they had meant nothing to him. He couldn’t even remember any of their faces.

Astrid moaned as he stroked her.

“Zarek,” she whispered, her breath falling lightly against his cheek. “I love the way your hands feel on my body.”

“Even though I’m a slave and you’re a goddess?”

“I’m no more a goddess than you are a slave.”

He started to contradict her, then stopped. He didn’t want anything to spoil this moment. This could very well be the last moment he had with her.

Thanatos could come crashing through the door at any moment to kill him, and if he had to die, he wanted one moment of happiness.

And she made him happy. In a way he’d never thought possible.

When he was with her, it seemed like something inside him wanted to fly. To laugh.

He was warm through and through.

“You know,” she whispered. “I think I was wrong earlier. I think you have made me a nympho.”

Zarek smiled at that and pulled his hand away from her so that he could open his fly and free himself from his pants. He shoved them down his legs, to his knees, but didn’t want to dislodge her to remove them completely.

He raised her up and then set her down on him.

They moaned in unison.

It was so erotic to watch her naked above him while he was still mostly dressed. He lifted his hips from the floor, thrusting himself deep inside her warmth while he ran his hands over her bare breasts.

Astrid gasped at Zarek’s hardness inside her. She’d pushed his shirt up so that his hard, muscled stomach was bare, but he was still fully clothed. His leather pants brushed against her thighs with every move he made.

His hands left her.

A few seconds later, she felt his soft fur parka against her bare skin as he draped it around her.

“I don’t want you to get cold,” he explained quietly.

She smiled at him, touched by his thoughtfulness. “How could I ever be cold with you inside me?”

He rose up then and wrapped his arms around her. His lips possessed hers with a fiery passion that left her breathless and weak.

Astrid cried out as she came in his arms.

Zarek waited until he’d wrung the last tremor of her orgasm from her before he sat up, still inside her and leaned her back against the floor.

Kissing her again, he quickened his thrusts, seeking his own peace.

And when he found it, he didn’t close his eyes. He stared down at the woman who had given it to him.

She lay beneath him, breathing raggedly, her eyes unseeing, her touch enchanting.

He knew then there was nothing he wouldn’t do for her. If she asked, he would walk through the fires of hell just to make her smile.

He cursed at the knowledge.

“Zarek?”

He ground his teeth as he pulled away from her. “What?”

She took his chin in her hand and turned his face toward hers, then she kissed him fiercely. “Don’t you dare turn away from me.”

He couldn’t breathe as he felt her with every fiber of his being. Her bare bottom was wet against his groin, her skin cool against his.

But it was the warmth of her lips and breath that heated him.

The fire of her undaunted will. It burned through him, tearing away centuries of loneliness and pain.

“‘You know—my flower,’” he breathed. “‘I am responsible for her.’” He kissed her gently. “‘She doesn’t even have four thorns to protect herself from harm.’”

Astrid listened as he quoted from
The Little Prince.
“Why do you love that book so?” she asked.

“Because I want to hear the bells when I look up at the sky. I want to laugh, but I don’t know how.”

Her lips quivered in sadness. That was the lesson of the book. It was to remind people that it was okay to care and that once you let someone into your heart, you were never really alone. Even the most simple thing such as looking up at the sky could bring comfort to you, even when the one you loved was far away. “And if I taught you to laugh?”

“I would be tamed.”

“Would you? Or would you be the sheep who has a muzzle with no strap and who eats the rose when he’s not supposed to? I somehow think that even tamed, you would be beyond control.”

Astrid felt the most remarkable thing then. Zarek’s lips curled up beneath her hand.

“Are you smiling?”

“I’m smiling, princess. But not broadly. No teeth.”

“Or fangs?”

“Or fangs.”

She leaned forward and kissed him again. “I’ll bet you’re gorgeous when you smile.”

He grunted at that, then helped her dress.

Astrid snuggled up to him once more so that she could hear the rhythm of his heart. She loved the sound of it, the feel of his strength beneath her.

Even though their lives were in danger, she felt oddly safe here.

With him.

Or so she thought.

In the stillness, she heard a strange scratching sound above them.

Zarek jerked up.

“What is it?” she whispered.

“Someone’s upstairs in my cabin.”

Horror consumed her. “You think it’s Thanatos?”

“Yes.”

He moved her gently off him and stood her against the wall. Terrified, she remained perfectly still as she listened to his movements and to those above.

Zarek grabbed a grenade, then reconsidered. The last thing he wanted was to trap them underground. He pulled on his spare set of silver claws that covered every finger of his left hand, and moved down the hallway back toward the trapdoor that was underneath his stove.

He heard light footsteps above him.

Then a curse.

Suddenly, there was silence again.

Zarek strained, desperate to hear who was up there and what they were doing.

A strange shiver went down his spine as the air behind him stirred.

He turned expecting to see Astrid.

It wasn’t her.

13

Standing behind him was an odd demonic woman with long blond hair, pointed ears, and large, batlike wings. She was cute in a very strange sort of way.

She stared at him without moving.

Zarek attacked.

Instead of fighting, she turned with a squeak and ran for the back of the cave.

Zarek followed her, intending to stop her before she reached Astrid, but he couldn’t.

The demon ran straight for her and to his astonishment she rushed behind Astrid and put her between them. The demon’s wings constricted and folded in around her body as if to protect her.

The demon placed a hand on Astrid’s shoulder as she eyed him cautiously. “Tell him to leave me alone, Astrid. Else I’ll have to barbecue him and make
akri
angry at me. I don’t want to make
akri
angry.”

Astrid covered the demon’s hand with hers. “Simi? Is that you?”

“Yes.
C’est moi.
The little demon with hornays.”

Zarek lowered his claws. “You two know each other?”

Astrid frowned as she faced him again. “Don’t you know her?”

“She’s a demon. Why would I know her?”

“Because she’s Acheron’s companion.”

Completely stunned, Zarek gaped at the small creature who did have odd eyes much like Acheron’s. They were pale and glowing, but hers were rimmed with red. “Ash has a companion?”

The demon snorted. She stood up and whispered loudly in Astrid’s ear. “Dark-Hunters are cute, but very stupid.”

He gave her a peeved glare as Astrid choked back a laugh.

“What are you doing here, Simi?” Astrid asked.

The demon looked around the tunnel and pouted in a way that reminded him of a small child. “Feeling peckish. Is there any food? Something not too heavy. Maybe a cow or two?”

“No, Simi,” Astrid said. “No food.”

The demon made a rude noise as she stepped away from Astrid. “‘No, Simi. No food,’” she mocked. “You sound like
akri.
‘Don’t eat that, Simi, you’ll cause an ecological disaster.’ What is an ecological disaster, that’s what I want to know?
Akri
says it’s me on hunger binge, but I don’t think that’s quite right, but that’s all he’ll say about it.”

Disregarding both of them, the demon began searching through his weapons.

She grabbed a grenade and tried to bite into it.

Zarek snatched it away from her. “That’s not food.”

The demon opened her mouth as if to speak, then snapped it shut. “Why are you in a dark hole, Astrid? Did you fall?”