Dance with the Devil (Dark-Hunter #4)(32)
Author: Sherrilyn Kenyon

"She was kind to you?"

"No. Not really. She was merely kinder to me. She didn’t want to look at me any more than anyone else did. So she kept me hidden in a small cell, and only brought me out whenever her lover came to visit. I would stand by the gate and listen for the guards to greet her lord. Whenever he returned while they were together, I would run to her room and rap on the door to warn them."

That explained a lot to her about his death. "Is that how you died? Did her lord catch you warning them?"

"No. On that day, I went to the door to warn her, but when I got there I heard her crying out in pain, telling her lover to stop hurting her. I rushed inside to find him beating her. I tried to pull him off. But he turned on me. He finally heard her husband outside and he left. She told me to leave too and I did."

Zarek fell silent as the memory of that day tore through him anew. He could still see the small cell that was his room. Smell the stench of it and his wounded body. Feel the sting of his face and neck where Arkus had punched him repeatedly as he tried to pull the soldier off Carlia.

The soldier had given him a beating so severe that he’d expected it to kill him. He’d been so sore and broken afterward that he could hardly move, hardly breathe, as he limped back to the hole where Carlia kept him.

Zarek had been sitting on the floor, staring at the wall, wishing for his body to stop hurting.

Then the door had crashed open.

He’d looked up to see the blurry image of Carlia’s husband, Theodosius, glaring at him with raw fury contorting the old man’s face.

At first Zarek had innocently assumed the senator had found out about his wife’s infidelity and his own part in warning her whenever he came home.

It hadn’t been.

"How dare you!" Theodosius had pulled him up by his hair and slung him from the cell. The man had beaten and kicked him across the villa’s courtyard all the way back to Carlia’s rooms.

Zarek had spilled into her bedroom, just a few feet away from her. He lay on the floor, beaten and bloody and shaking, with no idea why he had been attacked this time.

Helpless, he waited for her to say something.

Her bruised face ashen, she had stood there like a tattered queen, clutching her torn and bloodied gown to her ravaged body.

"Is this the one who raped you?" Theodosius asked his wife.

Zarek’s mouth had gone instantly dry at the question. No-he couldn’t have heard that correctly.

She wept uncontrollably as her female attendant tried to comfort her. "Yes. He did this to me."

Zarek dared to look up at Carlia, unable to believe her lie. After all he had done for her…

After the beating he’d received from her lover to protect her. How could she do this to him?

"My lady-"

Theodosius had viciously kicked him in the head, cutting off the rest of his words. "Silence, you worthless dog." He turned on his wife then. "I told you you should have left him in the cesspit. See you what happens when you feel sorry for creatures such as this?"

Then Theodosius had called for his guards.

Zarek had been summarily pulled from the room, and taken to the authorities. He’d tried to protest his innocence, but Roman justice followed one basic principle: guilty until proven innocent.

His word as a slave was nothing compared to Carlia’s.

Over the course of a week, his Roman judges managed to torture a full confession from him.

He would have said anything to get them to stop their painful torture.

He’d never known more pain than he did that week. Not even his father’s cruelty could match the instruments of the Roman government.

And so he’d been convicted. He, a virgin who had never touched a woman’s flesh in any way, was going to be executed for raping his owner.

"They dragged me from my cell and led me through town where everyone was gathered to spit on me," he whispered woodenly to Astrid. "They jeered and tossed rotten food, calling me every name you can imagine. The soldiers untied me from the wagon and dragged me to the center of the crowd. They tried to stand me up, but both my legs were broken. Ultimately, they left me there on my hands and knees so that the crowd could stone me. You know, I can still feel the rocks raining against my body. Hear them telling me to die."

Astrid struggled to breathe as he finished his tale.

"I’m so sorry, Zarek," she whispered, aching for him.

"Don’t patronize me," he growled.

She leaned against him and pressed her lips to his cheek. "Believe me, I’m not. I would never patronize anyone with your strength."

He tried to pull away from her, but she held him fast. "I’m not strong."

"Yes you are. I don’t know how you stood the pain of your life. I’ve always felt alone, but not the way you have."

He relaxed a degree as she leaned against his side. She wished she could see him now. See the emotions in his dark eyes.

"You know, I’m not really crazy."

She smiled. "I know you’re not."

He let out a long, tired sigh. "Why didn’t you go off with Jess when you had the chance? You could be safe now."

"If I leave you before the judgment is complete, the Fates will kill you."

"So what?"

"I don’t want you to die, Zarek."

"You keep saying that and I still don’t know why."

Because I love you. The words lodged in her throat. She wanted desperately to have the courage to say them out loud to him, but she knew he wouldn’t accept it.

Not her Prince Charming.

He would growl and push her away because in his mind such a thing didn’t exist.

He didn’t understand it.

She didn’t know if he ever would.

Astrid wanted to hold him. To comfort him.

But most of all, she wanted to love him. In a way that made her ache and soar at the same time.

Would Zarek ever allow her or anyone else to love him?

"What can I say to you so you’ll believe?" she asked back. "You’d laugh if I said I cared for you. You’d walk off angry if I said I loved you. So you tell me why I don’t want you to die."

She felt the muscles of his jaw working underneath her hand. "I wish I could get you out of here, princess. You don’t need to be with me."

"No, Zarek, I don’t. But I want to be with you."

Zarek winced as she spoke the most beautiful words he’d ever heard in his life.

She amazed him. There were no walls between them now. No secrets. She knew him in a way no one ever had.

And she wasn’t repulsed by him.

He didn’t understand her. "I don’t even want to be with me most of the time. Why do you?"

She gave him a shove. "I swear, you’re like a three-year-old. Why? Why? Why? Why is the sky blue? Why are we here? Why does my dog have fur? Some things just are, Zarek. They don’t have to make sense. Accept them."

"And if I can’t?"

"Then you have worse problems than Thanatos wanting you dead."

He thought about that for a little while. Could he accept what she offered him?

Did he dare?

He didn’t know how to be a friend. He didn’t know how to laugh from pleasure or be nice.

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 br**sts 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 nak*d 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.