Page 13 of Dance With the Devil (Dark-Hunter 3)
Free will was one of them.
"Do you like beef stew?" she asked Zarek.
"I'm not picky. I'm just grateful to have something warm I didn't have to cook myself."
She noted the bitterness in his voice. "You do that a lot?"
He didn't answer.
Astrid felt her way to the stove.
As she neared the pot, Zarek was suddenly there, grabbing her hand and pulling her back. He'd moved so fast and silently that she gasped in startled alarm.
His speed and strength gave her pause. This man could really hurt her if he chose to, and given what she had in store for him, that was a very sobering realization.
"Let me do that," he said sharply.
She swallowed at the unwarranted anger in his tone. "I'm not helpless. I do this all the time."
He released her. "Fine, burn your hand then, I don't care." He moved away from her.
"Sasha?" she called.
Her wolf came up to her side and leaned against her leg to let her know where he was. Kneeling down, she took his head in her hands and closed her eyes.
Reaching out with her mind, she connected with Sasha's until she could use his eyesight as her own. She saw Zarek as he made his way back to the counter and she had to force herself not to gasp.
Afraid that his looks might sway her opinion about his character before she had a chance to interact with him, she hadn't used Sasha before this to see him.
Now she knew how right she'd been.
Zarek was incredibly handsome. His long, black hair was sleek, hanging just past his wide shoulders. The black turtle-neck he wore clung to a body that rippled with finely toned muscles. His face was lean and well sculpted. The planes of it, even while covered in whiskers, were a study in perfect male proportions. Yet he wasn't pretty, he was darkly handsome. Almost sinister looking except for his long black eyelashes and firm lips that softened his face.
And when he took a seat, she got a spectacular view of a well-shaped butt covered by leather.
The man was a god!
But what struck her most as he sat down and stared at the counter was the deep sadness in his midnight eyes. The haunted shadow that hovered there.
He looked tired. Lost.
Most of all, he looked terribly lonely.
He glanced at them and frowned.
Astrid patted Sasha's head and gave him a hug as if nothing unusual had happened. She hoped Zarek wouldn't have any idea what she'd been up to.
Her sisters had warned her that this particular Dark-Hunter would have extreme powers such as telekinesis and refined hearing, but none of them knew if he could sense her limited powers.
She was only grateful that he wasn't telepathic. That would have made her job infinitely more complicated.
She stood up and went to the cabinet to get a bowl for Zarek, and very carefully, she ladled the stew into it. Then she took it to the counter, not far from where Zarek had been standing.
He reached out and took the bowl from her. "You live alone?"
"Just me and Sasha." She wondered why he'd asked that.
Her sister Cloie had warned her that Zarek could turn violent with little provocation. That he had been known to attack Acheron and anyone else who came near him.
Dark-Hunter rumor said that his exile in Alaska had been caused by his destroying a village he'd been responsible for. No one knew why. Only that one night he'd gone mad and murdered everyone there, then razed their homes to the ground.
Her sisters had refused to elaborate on what had happened on that night for fear of prejudicing her viewpoint.
For Zarek's crime, Artemis had banished him to the frozen wilderness.
Could Zarek merely be curious about her living arrangements or was there a more sinister reason for his question?
"Would you like something to drink?" she asked him.
"Sure."
"What do you prefer?"
"I don't care."
She shook her head at his words. "You're not very picky, are you?"
She heard him clear his throat. "No."
"I don't like the way he's looking at you."
She arched a brow at Sasha's angry words in her head. "You don't like the way any man looks at me."
The wolf scoffed. "Still, he hasn't taken his eyes off you, Astrid. He's watching you now. His head is bent down, but there's lust in his eyes as he stares at you. Like he can already feel you under him. I don't trust him or that look. His gaze is too intense. Can I bite him?"
For some reason, knowing that Zarek was watching her made her hot and shivery. "No, Sasha. Be nice."
"I don't want to be nice, Astrid. Every instinct I have tells me to bite him. If you have any respect for my animal abilities, let me put him down now and save us both ten more days in this cold place."
She shook her head at him. "We just met him, Sasha. What if Lera had deemed you guilty on her first encounter with you all those centuries ago?"
"So you believe in goodness again?"
Astrid paused. No, she didn't. Most likely Zarek deserved to die, especially if half of what she'd been told was true.
And yet Acheron's quote haunted her.
