Page 8 of Dance With the Devil (Dark-Hunter 3)
Zarek wasn't sure how long he'd slept. By the time he awoke, it was dark again.
Hopefully, he hadn't slept so long that his snowmachine would have had a chance to freeze. If he had, it would be a long, cold hike into town.
He rolled over and grimaced in pain. He'd been lying on his laptop. Not to mention the phone and MP3 player that were biting into something even more uncomfortable.
Shivering against the frigid cold, he forced himself up and grabbed another parka from his wardrobe. Once he was dressed for the weather, he went outside to his makeshift garage. He put the laptop, phone, and MP3 player into his backpack and slung it over his shoulders, then straddled the snowmachine and unwrapped the engine.
Luckily it started on the first try. Hallelujah! Maybe his luck was turning after all. No one had toasted him while he slept and he actually had enough gas to make it into Fairbanks where he could get some hot food and thaw out for a few minutes.
Grateful for small favors, he headed across his land and turned south for the long, bumpy trip that would take him into civilization.
Not that he minded. He was just too damned grateful there actually was civilization now to head into.
Zarek arrived in town shortly after six.
He parked his snowmachine at Sharon Parker's house, which was walking distance from the town's center. He'd met the ex-waitress about ten years ago when he'd found her inside her broken-down car late at night on the side of a seldom-traveled back road in North Pole.
It'd been close to sixty below and she had been crying, huddled under blankets, afraid that she and her baby would die before help arrived. Her seven-month-old daughter had been sick with asthma and Sharon had been trying to get her to the hospital for a breathing treatment, but they had refused her admittance since she didn't have any insurance and no money to pay.
She had been given directions to a charity clinic and had gotten lost while trying to find it.
Zarek had taken them back to the hospital and paid for the baby's care. While they waited, he'd found out Sharon was being evicted from her apartment and couldn't make ends meet.
So he had offered Sharon a bargain. In exchange for a house, car, and money, she provided him with someone friendly to speak to whenever he came into Fairbanks, and a few home-cooked leftovers or meals-whatever she had lying around.
Best of all, in the summertime when he was completely locked inside his cabin during the twenty-three and a half hours of daylight, she would swing by the post office or store and bring him books and supplies and leave them outside his door.
It had been the best deal he'd ever made.
She'd never asked him anything personal, not even why he didn't leave his cabin in the summer months. No doubt she was just too grateful to have his financial support to care about his eccentric ways.
In return, Zarek had never taken any of her blood or asked her anything personal. They were just employer and employee.
"Zarek?"
He looked up from plugging in his block warmer on the snowmachine to see her sticking her head out of the front door of her ranch-style house. Her dark brown hair was shorter than it had been a month ago when he'd last seen her-she had a blunt cut that swung around her shoulders.
Tall, thin, and extremely attractive, she was dressed in a black sweater and jeans. Most any other guy would have probably made a move on her by now, and one night about four years ago, she had insinuated that if he ever wanted something more intimate from her she would gladly give it, but Zarek had refused.
He didn't like people getting too close to him, and women had a nasty tendency of viewing sex as meaningful.
He didn't. Sex was sex. It was basic and animalistic. Something the body needed like it needed food. But a guy didn't have to promise a steak he was going to date it before he ate it.
So why did women need a testament of affection before they opened their legs?
He didn't get it.
And he would never become involved with Sharon. Sex with her was one complication he didn't need.
"Zarek, is that you?"
He lowered the scarf over his face and shouted back. "Yeah, it's me."
"Are you coming in?"
"I'll be back in a minute. I have to go buy a few things."
She nodded, then went back inside and shut the door.
Zarek made his way to the store down the street from her house. Frank's General Store had some of everything in it. Best of all, it had a wide variety of electronics and generators. Unfortunately, he wouldn't be able to use the shop much longer. He'd been a fairly regular customer for about fifteen years now, and though Frank was a bit dense, he had started noticing the fact that Zarek hadn't aged in all that time.
Sooner or later, Sharon would notice it too and he would have to give up his only contact in the mortal world.
That was the big drawback of immortality. He didn't dare hang around anyone for long or they'd find out who and what he was. And unlike the other Dark-Hunters, every time he had requested a Squire to serve him and protect his identity, the Council had denied it.
It seemed his reputation was such that no one wanted the duty of helping him.
Fine. He'd never needed anyone anyway.
Zarek entered the store and took a minute to pull his goggles and gloves off and unbutton his coat. He heard Frank in the back talking to one of his clerks.
"Now listen up, kid. He's kind of a strange man, but you better be nice to him, you hear me? He spends a ton of money in this store and I don't care how scary he looks, you be nice."
The two of them came out from the back. Frank stopped dead in his tracks to stare at him.
Zarek stared back. Frank was used to seeing him with a goatee or beard, his sword-and-crossbones earring, and the silver claws he wore on his left hand. Three things Acheron had ordered him to abandon in New Orleans.
He knew what he looked like beardless and he hated it. But at least he didn't have to look at himself in a mirror. Dark-Hunters could only cast a reflection when they wanted to.
Zarek had never wanted to.
The elderly man smiled a smile that was more habitual than friendly and ambled toward him. Even though the people of Fairbanks were exceedingly friendly, most of them still tended to cut a wide berth around Zarek.
He had that effect on people.
"What can I get for you today?" Frank asked.
Zarek glanced at the teenager, who was watching him curiously. "I need a new generator."
Frank sucked in his breath between his teeth and Zarek waited for what he knew was coming. "There might be a bit of a problem there."
Frank always said that. No matter what Zarek needed, it was going to be a problem to get it, hence he would have to pay top dollar for it.
Frank scratched the gray whiskers on his bearded face. "I've only got the one left and it's supposed to be delivered to the Wallabys tomorrow."
Yeah, right.
Zarek was too tired to play Frank's haggling game tonight. At this point, he was willing to pay anything to get the electricity back on in his house. "If you'll let me have it, there's an extra six grand in it for you."
Frank scowled and continued to scratch his beard. "Well now, there's another problem. Wallaby be wanting it real bad."
"Ten grand, Frank, and another two if you can get it over to Sharon's house within the hour."
Frank beamed. "Tony, you heard the man, get his generator loaded up." The old man's eyes were light and almost friendly. "You be needing anything else?"
