Her jaw went slack at the sincerity she heard in his voice. The man she had seen through Sasha's eyes had been more than worth looking at. He'd been gorgeous.

As handsome as any man she'd ever seen.

Then she remembered his dream. The way other people had once looked at him.

In his mind, he was still the wounded wretch that other people had beaten and cursed.

And that made her want to cry for him.

"I somehow doubt it," she whispered past the tight lump in her throat.

"Don't." She heard him walk angrily past her, down the hallway. He slammed his door shut.

Astrid stood in her kitchen, debating what to do.

He was so lost.

She understood that now.

No, she corrected herself. She didn't really understand him at all. How could she?

No one had ever dared treat her the way he'd been treated. Her mother and sisters would have killed anyone who dared look down their noses at her. They'd always protected her from the world, even while she struggled to get away from them.

Zarek had never known a loving touch.

Never known the warmth of a family.

He'd always been alone in a way she couldn't even begin to fathom.

Overwhelmed by her newfound emotions, she wasn't sure what she should do.

But she wanted to help him.

She went down the hallway only to discover he'd locked his door. "Zarek?"

He refused to answer her again.

Sighing, she pressed her head against the door and wondered if there was any way she could ever reach him.

Any way to save a man who didn't want to be saved.

Thanatos was furious at the order from Artemis.

"Stand down, my ass." He had no intention of standing down. For nine hundred years he had been waiting for this directive.

Waiting for a chance to level the score against Zarek of Moesia.

No one and most especially not Artemis would stand in his way now.

He would have Zarek or he would die trying.

Thanatos smiled at that. Artemis didn't have as much power as she thought. In the end, it would be his will that won the day.

Not hers.

She was nothing to him. Nothing but a means to an end he was determined to claim.

Vengeance would finally be his.

Thanatos pounded on the door of the remote cabin. On the other side of the door, he could hear low, panicked voices-Apollites rushing to hide their women and children.

Apollites who lived in fear of anyone who came seeking them.

"I am the light of the lyre," Thanatos said, speaking words only an Apollite or Daimon would know. Words that were used whenever a Daimon or Apollite sought another of his or her kind for shelter. The phrase was a reference to their kinship to Apollo, the god of the sun, who had cursed and abandoned them.

"How is it you walk in the daylight?" It was a woman's voice. One filled with fear.

"I'm the Dayslayer. Open the door."

"How do we know that?" This time it was a man who spoke.

Thanatos growled low in his throat.

Why did he want to help these people?

They were worthless.

But then he knew. Once, long ago, he'd been one of them. He too would have been hiding, afraid of the Squires and Dark-Hunters. Afraid of the pitiful humans who came for them in the light of day...

How he hated them all.

"I am going to open this door," Thanatos warned them. "The only reason I knocked was so that you could unlock it and then get out of the way of the daylight before I enter. Now either unlock it or I'll kick it down."

He heard the lock click.

Taking a deep, calming breath, he pushed the door open slowly.

As soon as he stepped inside and closed the door, a shovel came at his head.

Thanatos grabbed it and jerked hard, pulling a woman out of the shadows.

"I won't let you hurt my children!"

He took the shovel from her and gave her a peeved glare. "Trust me, if I wanted to hurt them, you couldn't stop me. No one could. But I'm not here for that. I'm here to kill the Dark-Hunter who hunts your kindred." Relief washed over her beautiful face as she looked up at him as if he were an angel.

"Then you really are the Dayslayer." The voice was masculine.

Thanatos turned his head to see a Daimon male leave the shadows. The Daimon looked no older than his early twenties. Like all of his breed, the Daimon was a paragon of physical perfection. Beautiful in his youthfulness and physical bearing, his long blond hair was braided down his back. His right cheek was marked with three blood-red tears that had been tattooed there.

Thanatos knew his breed instantly.

The Daimon was one of the rare Spathi warriors Thanatos had come seeking.

"Are the tears for your children?"

The Daimon gave a curt nod. "Each was slain by a Dark-Hunter. And I in turn slew the Hunter."

Thanatos ached for the man. The Apollites had no real choice and yet they were punished because they dared to choose life over death. He wondered what the humans and Dark-Hunters would do if they were told they had one of two choices: die painfully in the midst of their youth, or take human souls and live.

As a mere Apollite, Thanatos had been prepared to die.

Just like his wife...

Zarek had taken even that option away from his family.

Insane, the Dark-Hunter had come through his village, laying waste to everyone in it. The men had barely been able to hide the women and children before Zarek had destroyed them all.

No one who had come into Zarek's path had remained alive.

No one.

Zarek had killed Apollite and Daimon indiscriminately. And for that crime his only punishment had been banishment.

Banished!

Rage suffused him. How dare Zarek remain living in comfort all these centuries while the memory of that night festered eternally in Thanatos's heart.

But he forced that hatred aside. This was no time to let his anger rule him. It was the time to be as cold and calculating as his enemy.

"How old are you, Daimon?" Thanatos asked the Spathi. "Ninety-four."

Thanatos arched a brow. "You've done well."

"Yes, I have. I grew tired of hiding."

He knew the feeling. There was nothing worse than being forced to live in the dark. Living life confined.

"Have no fear. No Dark-Hunter will be after you. I'm here to make sure of it."

The man smiled. "We thought you were a myth."

"All good myths are rooted in reality and truth. Didn't your mother teach you that?"

The Spathi's eyes turned dark, haunted. "I was only three when she turned twenty-seven. She didn't have time to teach me anything at all."

Thanatos placed a comforting hand on the man's shoulder. "We will take this planet back, my brother. Rest assured, our day has come once more. I will summon the others of your kind and we will unite our armies. The humans have no one who can protect them now."

"What of the Dark-Hunters?" the woman asked.

Thanatos smiled. "They are bound to the night. I'm not. I can stalk them whenever I choose it." He laughed. "I am immune to their wounds. I am Death to them all and I am now home again with my people. Together, we will rule this earth and all who inhabit it."

Zarek woke up to the smell of heaven. He would have thought he was dreaming, but his dreams were never so pleasant Lying in bed, he was afraid to move. Afraid the delicious aroma would prove to be a figment of his imagination.

His stomach rumbled.

He heard the wolf bark.

"Hush, Sasha. You'll wake our guest."

Zarek opened his eyes then. Guest. No one but Astrid had ever called him that before.

His thoughts turned to the week he'd spent inNew Orleans .

"Am I staying with you and Kyrian or Nick?" "We thought it best that you have your own place."

Acheron's words had kicked something inside him he didn't even know he had anymore.

No one had ever wanted him near them.

He thought he'd learned to not care.

And yet Astrid's simple words touched the same foreign part of him that Acheron's had.

Getting out of bed, he dressed, then went to find her.

Zarek stood in the doorway, watching her as she made pancakes in the microwave. She was amazingly self-sufficient given her blindness.

The wolf looked at him and growled.

Astrid cocked her head as if listening to see if she could hear him. "Zarek? Are you in the room?"

"Doorway." He didn't know why he told her that. He didn't know why he was still here.

Granted, the storm was still ferocious, but he'd journeyed through many such storms during the centuries when he had lived up here without modern conveniences. There was a time not that long ago when he would have had to scrounge for food in the dead of winter. Melt snow so that he would have something to drink.

"I've made pancakes. I don't know if you like them, but I have blueberry and maple syrup or fresh strawberries if you'd rather."

He went to the counter and reached for a plate.

"Sit, I'll bring it to you."

"No, princess," he said sharply. Having been forced to serve others, he refused to have anyone serve him. "I can fix it myself."

She held her hands up in surrender. "Fine, Prince Charming. If there's anything I can respect, it's those who take care of themselves."