Page 27 of Dance With the Devil (Dark-Hunter 3)
Astrid looked back at the boy on the ground. "His father didn't want him, either." It was a statement of fact.
There was no doubt that no one in this place wanted the child.
"No. To him Zarek was tainted. Weaker. Zarek might have his blood in him, but he also bore the blood of a worthless slave. So Gaius turned Zarek over to his slaves, who took their hatred for his father out on him. Every time one of the slaves or servants was angry at Zarek's father or brothers, the boy suffered for it. He grew up as everyone's scapegoat."
She watched as Marius grabbed Zarek by the hair and pulled him up. Her breath caught in her throat as she saw the condition of his beautiful face. No older than ten himself, he was scarred so badly that he barely looked human.
"What's the matter, slave? Not hungry?"
Zarek didn't answer. He pulled at Marius's hand, trying to get away. But he didn't utter a single word of protest. It was as if he either knew better or was so accustomed to the abuse that he didn't bother.
"Let him go!"
She turned to see another boy close to Zarek's age. Like Zarek, he had black hair and blue eyes, and bore a strong resemblance to his brothers.
The newcomer rushed Marius and forced him to release Zarek. He twisted the older boy's hand behind his back.
"That is Valerius," M'Adoc supplied for her. "Another of Zarek's brothers."
"What is the matter with you, Marius?" Valerius demanded. "You shouldn't prey on those weaker. Look at him. He can barely stand."
Marius twisted free, then backhanded Valerius, knocking him to the ground. "You're worthless, Valerius. I can't believe you bear grandfather's name. You do nothing but dishonor him."
Marius sneered as if repulsed by the boy's presence. "You're weak. Cowardly. The world belongs only to those who are strong enough to take it. Yet you would pity those too weak to fight. I can't believe we came from the same womb."
The other boys attacked Valerius while Marius returned to Zarek.
"You're right, slave," he said, grabbing Zarek by his hair. "You're not worth cabbage. Dung is all you deserve for your food."
Marius threw him toward...
Astrid pulled out of the dream, unable to bear what she knew was going to happen.
Used to feeling nothing for other people, she was now overwhelmed by her emotions. She actually shook in fury and pain for him.
How could this have been allowed to happen?
How could Zarek have stood living the life he had been given?
In that moment, she hated her sisters for their part in his childhood.
But then, not even the Fates could control everything. She knew that. Still, it didn't ease the ache in her heart for a boy who should have been coddled.
A boy who had grown into an angry, bitter man.
Was it any wonder he was so harsh? How could anyone expect him to be otherwise when all he'd ever been shown was contempt?
"I warned you," M'Adoc said as he rejoined her. "That is why even the Skoti refuse to visit his dreams. All things considered, that is one of his milder memories."
"I don't understand how he survived," she whispered, trying to make sense of it. "Why didn't he kill himself?"
M'Adoc eyed her carefully. "Only Zarek can answer that."
He handed her a small vial.
Astrid stared at the dark red liquid that bore a strong resemblance to blood. Idios. It was a rare serum that was made by the Oneroi that could enable them or someone else, for a very short period of time, to become one with a dreamer.
It could be used in dreams to guide and direct, to allow one sleeper to experience another person's life so that he could better understand it.
Only three of the Oneroi possessed it. M'Adoc, M'Ordant, and D'Alerian. They most often used it with humans to dispense understanding and compassion.
One sip and she could become Zarek in his dreams. She would have total understanding of him.
She would be him.
And she would feel all of his emotions...
It was a huge step to take. Deep down she knew that if she took it, she would never be the same.
Then again, she might find there was nothing more to Zarek than rage and hatred. He might very well be the animal the others accused him of being.
One sip and she would know the truth...
Astrid removed the stopper and drank from the vial.
She didn't know what Zarek was dreaming about now, she only hoped he'd moved forward out of the dream she had just witnessed.
He had.
Zarek was now at the age of fourteen.
At first, Astrid thought her own blindness had returned until she realized that she was "seeing" through Zarek's eyes. Or eye, rather. The entire left side of her face hurt every time she tried to blink. A scar had fused the lid to his cheek, making the muscles in his face ache.
His right eye, while somewhat operable, had a strange haze over it similar to a cataract and it took her several minutes before his memories became hers and she understood what had happened.
He'd been beaten so badly two years before by a soldier in the marketplace that the lining of the cornea of his right eye had been severely damaged. His left eye had been blinded several years before that by another beating at the hands of his brother Valerius.
Zarek wasn't capable of seeing much more than shadows and blurs.
Not that he cared. At least this way, he didn't have to see his own reflection.
Nor was he bothered anymore by people's scornful looks.
Zarek shuffled across an old, crowded street in the marketplace. His right leg was stiff, barely able to bend from all the times it had been broken and not set.
Because of that, it was somewhat shorter than his left leg. His was a jarring gait that caused him to not move as swiftly as most people. His right arm was much the same way. He had little or no movement in it and his right hand was virtually useless.
In his good left hand, he clutched three quadrans. Coins that were worthless to most Romans, but they were precious to him.
Valerius had been angry at Marius and had slung Marius's purse out the window. Marius had forced another slave to pick the coins up, but three quadrans had gone uncollected. The only reason he had known about them was because they had hit him in the back.
Zarek should have surrendered the coins, but had he tried, Marius would have beaten him for it. The eldest of his brothers couldn't stand the sight of him and Zarek had learned long ago to stay as far from Marius as he could.
As for Valerius...
Zarek hated him most of all. Unlike the others, Valerius tried to help him but every time Valerius had attempted to do so, they had been caught and Zarek's punishment had escalated.
Like the rest of his family, he hated Valerius's tender heart. Better Valerius should spit on him as did the others. Because in the end, Valerius was forced to hurt him all the more to prove to everyone else that he wasn't weak.
Zarek, following the scent of baking bread, limped his way to the baker's stand. The scent was wonderful. Warm. Sweet. The thought of tasting a piece of it made his heart soar and his mouth water.
He heard people curse him as he drew near. Saw their shadows scurry away from him.
He didn't care. Zarek knew how repulsive he was. He'd been told so since the hour of his birth.
Had he ever been given a choice, he would have left himself, too. But as it was, he was stuck in this lame, scarred body.
He just wished he could go deaf as well as blind. Then he wouldn't have to hear their ringing insults.
Zarek approached what he thought might be a young man, standing over a basket of bread.
"Get away from here!" the young man snarled.
"Please, master," Zarek said, making sure to keep his blurry gaze on the ground. "I've come to buy a slice of bread."
