The Dark-Hunters (534 page)

“I gave my daughter to you to feed you when I’m not around and to keep you away from the humans. She’s never to be touched by any man.”

“She’s young still. What will happen when she grows older and decides to take a consort?”

Apollo’s eyes flared with anger. “I’ll kill them both.”

Artemis was aghast at his words. “You would kill your own child?”

His look pierced her. “I’d kill my own twin should she whore herself for a man. Satara is one of many children I have. But none of them will shame me without feeling the full weight of my wrath.”

“Even if she loved him?”

He curled his lip in disgust. “What are you? Aphrodite? Don’t speak to me of love. You’re a goddess. There is no love for us. Only lust, which fades. A man can seek lovers, but for a woman to do such…”

Made her a whore. She knew her brother’s stance on that.

As if she could hear his words about her, Satara paused in her play to look at her father.

“I’m off.” Apollo vanished.

Artemis didn’t miss the look of disappointment on Satara’s face that her father hadn’t bothered to speak to her. An instant later, she shoved the kori closest to her and stalked off.

Artemis shook her head. Apparently violence ran deep in their genes.

Her thoughts turned to Acheron and guilt slammed into her. What she’d done to him had been wrong and she knew it. But how could she face him after the way she’d acted?

You’re a goddess. He should be grateful you even noticed him.

That was the way she’d been reared. Yet Acheron was different. He hadn’t just been another human. They’d been friends.

And she’d hurt him out of fear. She’d done the very things to him that she’d sworn she’d never do. Things she knew hurt and humiliated him.

Why?

Closing her eyes, she could see him chasing her through the forest. Hear his laughter as he teased her.

No one else made her feel like that. No one.

And she’d ruined it by being stupid.

He’s human, who cares?
That would be Apollo’s stance. If only she could share it. But deep in her heart she knew the truth. She missed him and she ached at the thought of his being hurt again by his father.

Don’t even think it
 …

It was too late. She’d already flashed herself from her garden to his room. She hovered in the shadows where she saw his sister leaning over him.

“Please eat, Acheron,” Ryssa whispered. “I don’t want them to hurt you anymore. Father says that if you refuse any more meals he’ll have them force-feed you again.” She held a piece of bread toward his mouth.

He turned his head away.

Artemis saw the raw pain on Ryssa’s face.

“Fine. I won’t have you hurt anymore.” The princess shoved the bread into her mouth and swallowed it whole. After that, she ate all of his food.

Her eyes filled with sorrow, Ryssa stood up. “I’ll tell them that you ate it.” When she reached for Acheron, he grabbed her hand and shoved it away from him.

Her face stricken, she sighed. “Sleep in peace, little brother. I’ll make sure no one disturbs you.”

Artemis didn’t move until Ryssa had left them alone. Materializing into a solid form, she stepped out of the shadows.

Acheron curled his lip at her. “Leave.”

“You shouldn’t take that tone with me.”

He laughed, then winced as if something pained him. “Do I look like I give a damn what you do to me? Get your ass out of here and leave me alone.”

“Acheron—”

“Go!” he snapped, then hissed as if in severe pain. “You’ve already made it clear to me what I am to you. As you can see, I don’t need you to beat me or hit me. There are plenty of others vying for that honor.”

She knelt by the bed, her heart breaking at the bruises on his face … at the wounds marring his back. “I can heal you.”

“I don’t want your healing. I want nothing from you except your absence.”

“Don’t do this, Acheron.”

Acheron cursed. “I’m through begging for mercy. No one heeds it when I do anyway. Better I should die on my feet with all the dignity a whore can manage than crawling on my belly like a worthless slave.”

She shook her head as she tried to explain to him what had happened. “I was scared of what we’d done.”

His look went through her like a dagger. “And I’m sick of being everyone’s regret. My mother died in shame because she’d borne me. My father and brother despise me and my sister can barely look me in the eye. And you … you made me actually believe in something. I trusted in you and you lied to me.”

“I know and I’m sorry.” She placed her hand on his whiskered cheek, hoping to make him understand just how sincere she was. “I’m here now, not as a goddess, but as your friend. I miss you when you’re not around.”

Acheron wanted to shove her away, but the truth was he couldn’t. No matter how much he needed to hate her, he didn’t know how.

Her eyes tormented him before she closed them and healed his sore body.

He let out a tired breath as the pain faded and left him whole again. “Don’t expect me to thank you.”

“Don’t be like this. I don’t apologize to humans. Ever. Yet I’ve apologized to you…”

He understood what she was saying, but it didn’t ease the pain inside his heart where she’d stabbed him. “I don’t want your friendship anymore, Artie. You’ll have to find another whore to entertain you.”

Before he could even blink, she set upon him and shoved him back upon the bed. Acheron sucked his breath in sharply as she sank her teeth into his neck. This time there was no pleasure for him. Only pain racked him with every drop she drained. Even worse, she kept him paralyzed so that he couldn’t move or fight her.

It was an act of violation and he knew it. He’d had enough people attack him in a show of power to recognize it when it happened to him.

Beg me for mercy, whore. Tell me how much you enjoy it.

Acheron struggled to stay conscious as the voices from the past echoed in his head. The pain and frustration built inside him as impotent rage simmered deep.

Finally Artemis pulled away. By the bemused expression on her face he could tell she was surprised to see him still awake.

Acheron swallowed as he stared up at her with contempt. “Are we even now? Or do you want to rape my body as much as you’ve raped my soul?”

Pain sliced through him as all of his wounds and bruises from his beating returned. He cried out from the intensity of it as it increased even more than it had been before.

Artemis stood up to glare down at him. “You will not mock me, human. I’ve had enough of your ridicule.” With that she vanished.

Acheron closed his eyes as relief coursed through him. Maybe now he’d be left alone.

But as he sought comfort in his mind, instead of the orchard he’d played in at the summer palace that one spring day, it was an image of Artemis that haunted him. An image of their brief friendship before she’d turned vicious.

He missed that respite.

“It’s over,” he breathed. He was through being her toy. His life had been controlled by others for far too long. It was time he stopped trying to please everyone else and learned to live for himself. He would never again allow anyone to have power over him.

Especially not the gods.

FEBRUARY
13, 9528
BC

Acheron walked through the center of town on his way to the stadium to watch the latest play. Entering the marketplace, he paused as he glimpsed a shadow from the corner of his eye. He turned quickly toward it only to see nothing. Unsure if it was Artemis following him, he ducked behind a small group of people.

He felt so hollow inside. So used. Honestly, he never wanted to see her again. The mere thought of her set his anger on fire and yet there was also a sadness so profound at the loss of what could have been between them that it almost brought him to his knees.

He didn’t want to be used anymore. Not even for love.

Why not? You’ve been bartered for everything else.

He ground his teeth at a brutal truth he didn’t want to think about.

“Grandma, he’s cheating us.”

The young boy’s voice drew his attention to a table close by. An older woman was there with braided gray hair that was laced with black streaks. Her eyes were milky white and she stood with one hand on the boy’s shoulder. No older than seven or eight, he had dark hair and a face so innocent it was touching. Though their clothes were threadbare, they were both well washed and clean.

The vendor raised his hand in warning to the child as if he were about to hit him.

Backing up, the boy’s face lost all color.

“Merus?” his grandmother breathed. “What’s happening?”

“N-nothing, Grandma. I-I-I was mistaken.”

Acheron didn’t know why, but the boy’s cowering went through him like a dagger. How dare the man take advantage of an old woman and her charge when it was so obvious that neither of them had much in this world.

Before he could think better of it, he stepped forward. “You need to give them what they’ve paid you for.”

The man started to argue until he took in the full height of Acheron who stood more than a head taller than he. Though Acheron was lean, he was muscled enough to look intimidating. Luckily the vendor had no idea that Acheron knew nothing about fighting. The man’s eyes also widened at the quality of the cloth he wore—a royal chiton Ryssa had insisted he wear whenever he ventured out to the plays.

“I wasn’t cheating them, my lord.”

Acheron looked down at the boy who gaped at his height. “What did you see, child?”

Merus swallowed before he crooked his finger at Acheron.

Softening his face so that he didn’t scare the boy any more than he was already, Acheron bent down.

The boy whispered loudly in his ear. “He had his thumb on the scale. My ya ya told me to always tell her whenever they did that. She says it’s cheating.”

“So it is.” Acheron patted him on the arm before he straightened to look at the vendor. “How much flour were you buying, Merus?”

“Three pounds.”

“Then I shall watch as it’s measured again.”

The vendor’s face turned bright red as he poured the flour out and showed him that it was indeed short of the mark. Cursing under his breath, the vendor added more until it reached the correct weight. There was malice in his gaze for Merus once he had the sack resealed and shoved it toward the boy.

“Merus?” Acheron said, keeping his gaze locked on the vendor who couldn’t see his face.

The boy looked up at him. “Yes, my lord?”

“Should you ever find your ya ya cheated again or should anyone here ever hurt you, I want you to go to the palace and ask for Princess Ryssa. Tell her Acheron sent you and she’ll make sure that you’re treated fairly and that anyone who hurts you is punished for it.”

His eyes lit up even as the vendor’s darkened. “Thank you, my lord.”

His grandmother placed a gentle hand on Acheron’s forearm. “May the gods bless you for your kindness, my lord. Truly, you are an asset to this world. Thank you.”

Her words touched his heart and brought a lump to his throat. If only they were true. But they weren’t and the old woman would recoil in horror if she knew what she was touching the arm of. “May the gods be with you,” he breathed quietly before he started away from them.

He hadn’t gone far before Merus came running up to him.

“My lord?”

It was so strange to have someone address him like that. “Yes?”

“I know we’re beneath you, my lord, but my ya ya wanted me to ask you if you’d take bread with us so that she can thank you for your kindness. I know she’s blind, but she’s a wonderful cook. We bake bread for the baker who sells it to the king and his court.”

Acheron looked back to where the old woman stood proudly even though she couldn’t see any of the activity bustling around her.
Beneath him
 … If the child only knew what he really was, he’d be shunning him like everyone else.

They both would.

Still, Acheron hesitated. He should go before they learned the truth of him, but he didn’t want to insult them and make them feel as low as people made him feel.

So instead he nodded. “I should like that very much, Merus. Thank you for asking.”

The boy smiled, then led him back to where his grandmother waited at the edge of the market.

“He’s with me, Ya Ya.”

The kind lines of her face crinkled as she smiled and spoke in the opposite direction from where he stood. “Thank you, my lord. It might not be as fancy as you’re used to, but I promise you you’ve never tasted better.”

“We’re over here, Ya Ya.”

Her cheeks pinkened. “Forgive me, my lord. I fear I’m a little directionally inept.”

“I don’t mind.” He took the packages from Merus that the boy was holding. “I’ll carry these if you wish to help your ya ya home.” He was amazed at how heavy the load was for the child.

Beaming, Merus took his grandmother’s hand and led her through the crowd.

“My name is Eleni, my lord.”

“Please, just call me Acheron. I live at the palace, but I’m no one of any importance.”

“He looks important, Ya Ya. He’s got very nice clothes and shoes, and he’s really, really tall.”

She tsked at her grandson. “It’s not nice to contradict people, Merus. Remember what I’ve told you. Looks can often deceive you. A poor man can don the robes of a prince and a prince can be shoeless in the street. We judge people by what their actions are, not by the clothes they wear.” Her smile was one of complete serenity. “And by Lord Acheron’s actions today, we know him to be noble and kind.”

Acheron paused as her words touched him deeply. Never in his life had he felt like anything other than a whore, yet here, with two people who were dressed in rags, he felt like a king. It was such a foreign sensation that he actually lifted his chin a degree.

Merus opened the door to a small house that was nestled among a row of them. Acheron had to almost bend double to fit through the short doorway as he followed the two of them inside. The main room was small and crowded, but it felt like home. There was an energy to the place that let him know Merus and Eleni were very happy here together.