Dream-Hunter (Dark-Hunter #11)(5)
Author: Sherrilyn Kenyon

What mattered most was the present, and that was what he focused on. Always.

As he flew past Cerberus, the three-headed dog rose up to bark at him. Ignoring it, he dove down into the catacombs made of the skulls and bones of Hades’ enemies. Many of whom had been Titans and ancients who’d had the misfortune of irritating the somber god-they didn’t even warrant Hades torturing them for eternity. He’d relegated them to nothing more than decoration.

That alone should be a warning to Arik…

But the brave and the desperate never heeded such.

Arik slowed his flight as he entered the main chamber of Hades’ domain. This was the only room in Hades’ opulent palace that was open to outsiders… But there was a lot more to his home than this one room.

Arik knew that because no one was immune to the powers of a Dream-Hunter. No one. All gods were vulnerable whenever they rested, which was why they feared the Dream-Hunters so, and it was times such as those that Arik had ventured here to see what Hades kept so secret.

Now Arik faded to invisibility and rose up toward the black ceiling that glittered eerily in the dim light.

Hades sat below, alone, on his throne. Made of Titan bones, his black throne had been polished until it gleamed like steel. Hard and intimidating as the god had intended, it dominated the dais where it sat.

Beside it was a much smaller chair. One made of gold and cushioned with pillows the color of blood. It was where Persephone sat whenever she was home with her husband.

Hades stared at her throne with a look of such longing that Arik could almost feel his grief. And it wasn’t until Hades moved that Arik realized the god held a small, delicate fan in his hand. One made of lace and ivory.

Closing his eyes, Hades held it to his nose and gently inhaled the scent.

Then he cursed and tossed the fan back to the throne by his side.

A heartbeat later, he got up to retrieve it and place it more carefully in a small holder on the right arm.

Obviously that was where Persephone kept it.

Hades froze and cocked his head as if he was listening for something. "Who dares to enter my hall without summons?"

Arik lowered himself to the floor and materialized. "I do."

The god turned about slowly and narrowed his amber eyes on Arik. "What brings you here, son of Morpheus?"

There was no need to hide what he wanted. "I would like to bargain with you."

"For what?"

"I wish to be human."

Hades’ evil laughter rang out in the hollow hall, echoing around them. "You know how to be human, Skotos. Stop eating ambrosia and drinking nectar."

"That would only make me mortal and I don’t want to die. I want to feel, and for that I need to be a human and not a god."

Hades approached him slowly until he stood just before Arik. "Feel? Why would anyone in their right mind wish for that? Feelings are for fools."

Arik glanced to the fan. "Even you?"

Hades bellowed in rage as he flung out his hand and pinned Arik against the wall with his powers. The jagged bones bit into Arik’s back, tearing the fabric of his clothes.

Arik fought the hold, but there was nothing he could do at the moment except bleed.

"For a god who doesn’t wish to die, you speak of things you’d best not address."

The force holding him receded so fast that he barely had time to recover himself before he fell. He hovered over the floor for a heartbeat until he placed his feet on the ground.

Hades raised his brows in surprise. "You’re faster than most."

"And in my realm, I’m capable of even more feats."

"What are you saying?"

Arik shrugged. "Only that a god of such power should be careful. Even the great Hades has to sleep sometime."

"Are you threatening me?"

"I’m only stating a fact." Arik looked pointedly at Persephone’s throne. "And reminding you, my lord, that there’s nothing worse than allowing a Skotos to know of a weakness."

Hades narrowed his eyes before he again broke out into laughter. "It’s been a long time since anyone dared such boldness in my presence. Look around you, Skotos. Do you not see the remains of the people who have pissed me off?"

"My name is Arik and I see everything, including the beauty and comfort of the palace you hide behind this façade of death. But in turn, I would ask you what good does it do to threaten someone who can’t feel fear?"

Hades inclined his head. "Point well taken. So tell me… Arik, what bargain do you wish to propose?"

"I want to live in the realm of the humans as one of them."

Hades tsked at his request. "That’s not so easy to attain, dear boy. No Olympus-born god can live on earth for very long."

"But we can live there for a time. I would go there now, but there would be no point, since I could only witness what’s around me and not experience it. It’s the experience I want."

"What good is this experience when you’ll only forget it once you return?"

What the god didn’t know was that Arik wouldn’t forget. He’d remember and he wanted that memory.

Unlike M’Ordant and many of the others, Arik had no knowledge of true emotions or sensations-they’d been beaten out of him so long ago that he’d completely forgotten what it was like to feel. He wanted to know how much more intense feelings could be when not blocked by the curse.

"Does the why really matter?"

Hades considered that for a moment. Folding his arms over his chest, he frowned at Arik. "For what you want, there would have to be a steep price."

"I expected nothing less. Just tell me your fee."

"A soul. A human soul."

That was easy enough. Taking a human life wouldn’t bother him. They lived finitely anyway and very few of them even bothered to appreciate the beauty that was the human existence. He, however, would savor his brief time as one of them. "Done."

Hades clucked his tongue at Arik. "Child, how naive of you. You agreed too soon. It’s not just any soul I want."

"Whose then?"

"I want the soul of the woman who has compelled you to make a deal with the devil. Surely she must have a magnificent soul for you to come here and barter with me, the most despised of all gods."

Arik hesitated. Not out of feelings for Megeara but rather because he wasn’t sure he would be through with her by the time he was forced to return. "And if I fail to complete this bargain?"

"It will be you who suffers here in her stead. If you fail to deliver her to me, I will kill you as a man and keep your soul in Tartarus. The pain you’ve felt to date will be nothing when compared to what you’ll suffer then. And before you reconsider, remember that you’ve already agreed to this. There is no going back now. Our bargain is set."

"How long will you give me?"

"Two weeks and not a day more."

Arik had no time to even twitch before a strange thick blackness covered him. One moment he was standing in the middle of Hades’ throne room, and in the next he was encircled by wetness.

It was water…

And unlike in dreams, his body was heavy. Leaden. Water poured in through his mouth and nose, causing him to choke as it invaded lungs that weren’t used to really breathing. He tried to swim, but the water was too thick. It seemed to be sucking him down deeper into the sea.

Panic consumed him. There was nothing he could do.

He was going to drown.

CHAPTER 3

"GEARY, QUICK! THERE’S A BODY OVERBOARD!"

Oh good God, who had Thia attacked now?

Aggravated, Geary looked up from Tory’s notes at Justina’s call. Geary’s second in command was pointing over the side of the boat. As Geary rushed to the side to peer over, she handed the notebook back to Tory. Sure enough, there was someone struggling in the waves. And by the looks of it, he was quickly losing his battle.

"Christof!" Geary shouted for the boat’s captain. "We need…" She paused as the body sank down below the hungry waves.

There wasn’t time.

Her heart pounding from the rush of adrenaline, Geary kicked her shoes off and dove over the side. The coldness of the water stunned her as it covered her completely. Kicking her legs, she swam upward until she broke the surface so that she could look about for him.

Even though the water was clear, Geary had a hard time finding the guy below the surface. She had to keep diving down, then returning for fresh air before she dove back to search for him. Thank God she was a strong swimmer who was trained as a lifeguard and a certified diving instructor. But then it was expected of her as an underwater recovery expert. She had to be as nimble in water as a fish.

She just wished she’d had time to get her gear before she’d come in after him. If she didn’t find the guy soon, he’d be dead, especially since he hadn’t resurfaced.

Her lungs burned from holding her breath as she dove under the water again. Her ears were buzzing and popping from the pressure as images of him drowning consumed her.

Geary had been twelve years old when Tory’s father had drowned only a few miles from this very spot.

Images of her father trying to save Theron’s life tore through her now as she remembered her father diving for him. Her father pulling Theron out of the water and doing everything he could to resuscitate him.

It’d been awful and the last thing she wanted to do was relive it.

C’mon. Don’t you dare die on me. Where are you? She slowed her speed and turned about as she floated weightlessly in the sea. The light refracted and danced in the blue and green water, highlighting various fish and foliage, but there was no sight of the man she sought.

"Look down."

She frowned at the foreign voice in her head, not understanding the source of it, but she couldn’t help obeying it. Looking down, she spotted him just below her. Even though he was trying to swim, he was sinking fast…

His long black hair danced in the water as bubbles floated around him and he waved his arms and legs to no avail.

Relieved she’d found him but scared it might be too late, she headed for him as fast as she could. She came up behind him, then pulled his large body against hers and kicked them toward the surface.

Good grief! The man was huge and made of solid muscle. With next to no fat on him, he was like an anchor in the water. It took a great deal of effort to get them to the surface.

By the time they broke through, both of them were sputtering and coughing.

"Hold on," she said to him. "I’ve got you." Even so, she half-expected him to fight against her. Most drowning victims did.

But not him. He went limp against her as if he trusted her completely.

Justina and Teddy were in the water already with a life preserver. Together, they got the man into the harness and had him hauled on board, then they followed suit.

By the time Geary was on board the Simi again, she saw the unknown man lying on the deck, covered with a blanket, while Thia was giving him mouth-to-mouth. Geary couldn’t see the man’s face for Thia.

"Is he dead?" Geary asked, rushing over to them as worry tore at her.

Just as she reached his side, the man coughed up a gallon of seawater. Gasping, he turned quickly to his side and started hacking and wheezing while Thia pounded him on the back to help him clear his lungs.

His slick wet skin was completely bronzed and perfect, except for the deep welts that marred his back.

The scars were old, but even so they were prominent enough to let Geary know how much they must have hurt when he received them. It reminded her of the way sailors were beaten for punishment back in the old days.

Why would a modern man have such scarring? Who would have beaten him like that and why?

And he wore nothing except a thin pair of long white pants that were plastered against his perfect body… and they showed absolutely everything , right down to his religion and the fact that this man had been rather gifted in a certain department.

He might as well be nak*d.

"Now there’s a man who doesn’t believe in underwear, huh?" Justina said in a low tone for only Geary’s hearing as she wrung out her hair. "Not that I’m not grateful for it. He has the nicest ass on the planet. No wonder Thia grabbed him for resuscitation. I wouldn’t mind a little mouth-to-mouth action with that body, either."

While Geary pretty much agreed with those sentiments, she didn’t comment as Tory draped a blanket around her shoulders.

"Hell of a fish you found there," Christof said as he brought more blankets for them. He gave one to Justina and Teddy.

Ignoring him, Geary knelt down beside her catch. The man held himself up with one muscular arm as he continued to breathe in short, sharp gasps. His tangled wet black hair fell over his face, completely obscuring it from her and the others. The tendons of his hands were well defined and beautiful, which made her curious as to what his face would look like.

Would it be as scarred as his back or as pristine and beautiful as the rest of him?

"Are you okay?" she asked in Greek, assuming since they were in the Aegean that he would understand her better in Greek than any other language.

He nodded as he continued to struggle to expel the water from his body. It was almost as if he wasn’t used to his own lungs.

His breathing ragged, he lifted his head to look at her through the strands of his wet black hair. And as soon as their eyes met, Geary gasped and fought the urge to cross herself and spit as she came