Zarek returned to the sink to wash his hands. Once the chocolate milk was warmed up, he poured it into a mug and brought it to her.
"Here," he said, his voice ringing with its usual rude, hostile note. He took her hand and led it to the cup.
"What is it?" she asked.
"Arsenic and vomit."
She screwed her face up in disgust at the thought. "Really? And yet you managed to hack that up so quietly. Who knew? Thanks. I've never had vomit before. I'm sure it'sextra special."
Well, so much for thinking Zarek had a kinder, gentler side.
"Drink it or don't," he growled. "I don't care."
She heard him leave the room again.
Astrid held the cup. Even though she had watched him make it through Sasha's eyes and knew he hadn't done anything to contaminate it, she was still reluctant to taste it after his off-putting comment.
"He's watching you," Sasha told her.
She cocked her head very slowly. "How so?"
"Like he's daring you to taste it."
Astrid held her breath, debating what to do. Was it a test of his own? Was he asking her to trust him?
Taking a deep breath, she drank the chocolate, which was a perfect temperature and very tasty.
Zarek was amazed at her bravery. So, she had called his bluff and trusted him. He would never have drunk anything a stranger handed him and it surprised him that she had.
He felt a grudging respect for her. The woman had a lot of guts, he'd give her that.
Create PDF files without this message by purchasing novaPDF printer (http://www.novapdf.com) But at the end of the day, guts didn't account for much, and all they would do is get her killed if Thanatos found them before he had a chance to leave.
His gaze turned dull as he remembered the demon or Daimon or whatever he was who had been sent to kill him.
All this time, the Dark-Hunters had assumed Acheron was the bloodhound Artemis used to track and kill rogue Dark-Hunters.
All the men who knew the truth were now roaming the earth as Shades. Soulless, bodiless entities who could feel hunger and thirst and yet were never allowed to sate it.
They could feel and sense the world, but no one could feel or sense them.
He understood that existence. For the twenty-six years he had lived as a mortal human, he'd been one himself.
Only then, a world that didn't know he existed would have been preferable. Because when people had realized he was around, they had gone out of their way to increase his pain.
Gone out of their way to hurt and humiliate him.
Rage flooded him as his gaze sharpened once more. He looked around the immaculate cabin where every detail showed Astrid's wealth. In his human existence a woman like her would have spat in his face for no other reason than that he dared to cross her path. He would have been so far beneath her that he would have been beaten for even daring to lift his gaze to her face.
To look her in the eyes would have been his death.
"Is this slave bothering you, mistress?
"
He winced as the memory ran through his mind.
At age twelve he had been foolish enough to listen to his brothers as they pointed out a woman who was in the marketplace.
"She's your mother, slave. Didn't you know? Uncle freed her just last year, "
"Why not go to her, Zarek? Maybe she'll take pity on you and have you freed, too.
"
Too young and too stupid to know better, he had stared at the woman they showed him. She had hair as black as his and perfect blue eyes. He'd never seen his mother before. Had never known she was so beautiful.
Create PDF files without this message by purchasing novaPDF printer (http://www.novapdf.com) But in his heart, she had always been more beautiful than Venus. He had envisioned her as a slave like himself who had no choice but to do as her master said. He'd built up a whole dream of how he'd been ripped from her arms after birth. How she had wept for him to be returned to her.
How she had pined every day for her lost son.
Meanwhile, he had been given to his merciless father who had vengefully kept him away from her caring arms.
Zarek was sure she would love him. All mothers loved their children. It was why the other female slaves had no use for him. They were saving all their rations and affections for their own.
But this woman… she was his.
And she would love him.
Zarek had run to her and embraced her, telling her who he was and how much he loved her.
But there had been no warm welcome. No motherly affection.
She had looked at him with abject disgust and horror. Her lips had curled cruelly as she hissed to him, "I paid that whore good money to see you dead."
His brothers had laughed at him.
Zarek had been too crushed by her rejection to move or breathe. He had been devastated to learn that his mother had bribed another slave to kill him.
When a soldier approached them to ask if he were disturbing her, she had said coldly, "This worthless slave touched me. I want him beaten for it."