Acheron (Dark-Hunter #15)(24)
Author: Sherrilyn Kenyon

Acheron went to retrieve his cloak from under the mattress . . . and the shoes Artemis had given him. He held the shoes for a moment, missing the goddess even more than before. How he wished he could celebrate with her, but that would have to wait.

After dressing himself quickly, he followed Ryssa out of the room. In the hallway, he hesitated as he looked around the bright walls. With the exception of Ryssa’s offering to Apollo, he’d never left his room through the doors without having to bribe his guards with sex.

The degree to which his life had changed hit him full force. No longer a slave. No longer a prisoner. He was free now.

Acheron lifted his head proudly with the knowledge that he had money and he hadn’t had to screw anyone to get it. More than that, he had a friend and a lover who treated him like he mattered.

For the first time in his life, he felt like a human being and not a possession or an object. It was a damn good feeling and he didn’t want it to end.

Ryssa took his hand in hers and led him through the hallways, out the front door as if she wasn’t ashamed in the least to be seen in his company. But as they moved among people, Acheron remembered one thing that hadn’t changed.

Other people’s reactions to his beauty. He pulled the cowl low over his face and kept his eyes on the ground at Ryssa’s feet. He’d spent so much time with Artemis lately that he’d all but forgotten about his eyes and how much they repulsed regular people.

As they walked through the town square, he paused. There was a group of children with a teacher standing in front of a temple. A boy around the age of seven was reading the text that was written at the feet of the god.

" ‘In all things moderation. The key to the future is understanding the past.’ "

"Acheron?"

He blinked at Ryssa’s voice and turned away to see her staring up at him with a frown. "Do all children know how to read?"

She glanced at the students. "Not all. Those are senators’ sons. They come out here to learn about the pantheon and to see how the priests serve the gods while their fathers make the laws to govern people."

Acheron stared at the words that held no meaning to him. He was too ashamed to admit to Ryssa that he remembered almost nothing of his lessons with her and Maia. "All noblemen can read though, can’t they?"

She tugged at his hand without answering. "We’re going to be late to the play."

Acheron turned and followed her. "Have you any word about Maia?"

Ryssa smiled. "She married last year and is expecting her first child."

The news hit him hard. He didn’t like the thought of a man hurting the girl he’d been so fond of. He hoped whoever she’d married treated her with the regard she deserved. "Isn’t she too young for that?"

"Not really. Most girls wed at her age. I was a rare exception, but Father refused all suitors who asked for my hand."

"Why?"

"I honestly don’t know. He would never explain himself to me. I suppose I should be grateful to Apollo. If not for him, I’m sure I would have lived my life as a spinster."

He could think of many things worse than that. But his sister was allowed her delusions he supposed. "Does Apollo make you happy now?"

"He’s gentle most of the time." There was a sadness in her beautiful blue eyes that belied her words.

"But?"

She touched her neck in a nervous gesture that made him frown in understanding. "I’m not allowed to talk about what we do when we’re together."

So Apollo fed from her in the same manner Artemis drank from him. It made him wonder if all the gods did that or was it something unique between Artemis and Apollo. "You deserve to be happy, Ryssa. More than anyone I know."

She smiled at him. "Not true. You’re the one who deserves happiness. I could just choke Father for his blindness."

"I don’t mind it so much anymore," he said honestly. "I’d much rather be ignored than abused."

She shook her head before she bypassed the crowd to show him where the proprietor had made a special entrance to the royal seats reserved for them.

Acheron hesitated. They were separated from the crowd by a cord and each of the ten seats was covered with a cushion. But what he didn’t like was the fact that the area stood out and others kept glancing over at them. He hated people to focus their attention on him.

But he didn’t want to insult Ryssa’s gift. Pulling his cloak tighter, he followed her to the seats.

Neither of them spoke while the actors came out to perform. Acheron watched them as he thought about the children they’d seen on their way here. He wanted to read the way they did. Artemis deserved a consort who was literate.

Maybe if he could read, she might not have to hide their friendship . . .

Artemis felt her brother’s presence behind her like a physical touch. As twins, the two of them shared a special bond.

And a special hatred.

She wasn’t sure when they’d become friendly enemies, but it was a cold fact. Though there was nothing they wouldn’t do for each other, they could barely stand to be in the same room.

Hatred aside, she couldn’t deny that Apollo was one of the more handsome gods. His shining blond hair was cropped short and the strong lean lines of his face were set off by the small goatee. His blue eyes were riveting with intelligence, power and a hint of cruelty.

He arched a brow at her. "I’m surprised to see you here."

"I could say the same for you. It’s about time you crawled out of your human pet’s bed. I was beginning to think she was the one controlling you."

His look turned arctic. "And what has been keeping you so occupied? Father said you haven’t been to the Olympian hall in weeks."

She shrugged. "It’s boring there."

"That’s never stopped you before."

She rolled her eyes at him. "Do you mind? I’m trying to watch the humans worship me."

Before she could move away, Apollo took her arm and pulled her closer to him so that he could whisper in her ear. "You haven’t come to me to feed in a while. Who have you been taking your nourishment from?"

"What do you care?"

He gripped her neck as his canine teeth elongated. "There’s only so long you can feed from a human before you hunger for something a little more substantial." He dipped his head toward her neck.

Artemis stepped away from him. "I’m not interested."

Apollo’s eyes flamed red. "You do remember what happened to the last man you trifled with?"

She cringed at the reminder. Orion. Artemis had taken a fancy to the man but before she could even approach him, Apollo had jealously tricked her into killing him with one of her arrows. Then her brother had placed his image in the stars to always remind her that Apollo was the only male she could feed from.

"I didn’t trifle with Orion."

He forced her to face him. "You need to feed."

Yes, but she didn’t want to feed from her brother. She wanted Acheron.

Apollo pulled her into the shadows of his temple while the humans were gathered outside of hers to pay tribute. She didn’t want to follow him. But if she didn’t, he’d know she’d been with someone else and may Zeus help Acheron then. Her brother would tear him apart.

Her heart aching, she tried not to cringe as Apollo jerked her against him and offered her his neck. She took it and in her mind she pretended he was Acheron. Even so, she could taste the difference between them. Apollo’s blood lacked the spirit. There was no racing inside her as she tasted him. No fire that wanted her to hold him close.

It was just blood.

When she’d taken enough to placate him, she pulled back and licked her lips.

Apollo attacked her then. His teeth tore through the tendons of her neck, leaving it throbbing. She wanted to slap him for it and many times in the past she had. Damn Hera for this curse. The jealous bitch had tried to kill both of them at birth and because Artemis had helped her mother deliver Apollo, this was her punishment. There was nothing worse than being forced to feed on your own kind. It was a lesson she and Apollo had known the whole of their lives.

Her head light, she tried to think clearly. Apollo was taking too much blood. It was something he always did when he was angry at her.

Grinding her teeth, she kneed him hard in the groin. He jerked back with a curse, tearing at her neck. Her curse joined his as she covered the gaping wound with her hand. "You’re such a bastard."

He grabbed her upper arm, blistering it with his grip. "Remember what I told you. I catch you with a mortal man and I will kill him."

Artemis snatched her arm free. "Go play with your humans and leave me alone."

Her joy in the festival completely squelched, she transported herself back to her temple. But it was so lonely here. Her koris were gone for the day.

She looked at her bed and imagined the sight of Acheron there, his smile warming her while he pleased her with kisses and gentle caresses.

Needing him desperately, she flashed to his room. The instant she saw him sitting cross-legged on the floor with his back to her, her heart lightened. Without thought or hesitation, she ran to him and embraced him.

Acheron was startled as Artemis threw herself against his back and wrapped her arms around him in a tight hold. Even so the scent of her filled his head.

"I missed you today," she whispered in his ear, sending chills over his entire body.

"I missed you too."

Her grip tightened before she released him and placed her chin on his shoulder. "What are you doing?"

Acheron snatched the scroll up from the floor and folded it so that she couldn’t see what he was about. "Nothing."

"You’re doing something . . ." She grabbed the scroll from him before he could stop her and opened it. She frowned at his childish marks. "What’s this?"

He felt heat sting his face at having been caught. "I was trying to teach myself to write."

"Why?"

"I don’t know how and I wish to learn."

She lowered the scroll to stare in disbelief. "Can’t you read?"

Acheron hung his head as shame poured through him. "No."

Artemis lifted his chin in a gentle caress until he met her gaze. The kindness in her eyes warmed him completely. "You can now."

Acheron gasped as a slight pain went through him. She handed him the scroll back.

"Write your name."

Baffled by what had just happened to him, he picked up the quill and knew how to draw the letters. He wrote his name flawlessly. "I don’t understand."

"I’m a goddess, Acheron. And I don’t want you to hang your head in shame. Does this please you?"

"More than anything."

Her smile dazzled him. "Come with me. I’m in the mood to hunt."

"I don’t know how to hunt."

"You will."

True to her words as soon as they were in the woods, she gave him a bow and arrow and just like with the writing, he knew exactly what to do.

How wondrous to be able to do something without all the years of learning it. But in truth, there was something more he wanted than literacy and hunting. "Can you teach me to fight?"

Artemis turned on him with a stunned expression. "What?"

"I want to know how to fight."

She scowled, then asked the one question that she never failed to voice. "Why?"

"I’m tired of being hit. I want to know how to defend myself."

Artemis was stunned by his unexpected request. An image of Apollo knocking her around went through her head so sharply that she flinched. Like most men she’d known, Apollo was such a controlling bastard. The last thing she wanted was to make herself vulnerable to Acheron. Teaching a man to fight could never lead to anything good. "I don’t think so. I won’t let anyone hurt you, Acheron. I’m all the protection you need."

"What if you grow bored with me?"

She cupped his cheek in her hand. "How could I ever be bored with you?"

Acheron offered her a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. "I really wish you’d teach me."

His insistence set her hackles rising. "I said no," she snapped.

Acheron paused at the hostility in her tone. He knew that anger and what it stemmed from. "Who hits you?"

Artemis lowered her bow. "I think there’s deer over this way."

"Artie . . ." He pulled her to a stop. "I know the sound in your voice. I’ve had it too often in mine not to recognize what it means. Who has hurt you?"

She hesitated for so long that he didn’t expect her to answer, but when she did her tone was so low that he barely heard it. "Other gods."

He was stunned by her confession. "Why?"

"Why does anyone hit?" Her eyes were furious again. "It makes them feel more powerful. I will not have you hit me. Ever."

"And I would never do so," he said, his voice rife with conviction. "I could no more do to another what has been done to me than cut my own heart out. I only wish to protect myself."

"And I told you. I will protect you."

He caressed her arm before he dropped his hand and stepped back. "Then I shall trust you, Artie. But I want you to know that I don’t trust easily. Please don’t be like everyone else and break your word to me. I hate being lied to."