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?"
Zarek shook his head and left.
He made his way back toward Sharon's and did his best to ignore the biting winds.
He knocked on her door before he shouldered it open and entered. Oddly enough, the living room was empty. This time of night, Sharon's daughter Trixie was usually running around, playing and screaming like a demon or doing homework under extreme protest. He didn't even hear her in the back rooms.
For a second, he thought maybe the Squires had found him, but that was ridiculous. No one knew about Sharon. Zarek wasn't exactly on speaking terms with the Squires' Council or other Dark-Hunters.
"Hey, Sharon?" he called. "Everything okay?"
She walked slowly down the hall from the direction of the kitchen. "You're back."
A bad feeling settled over him. Something wasn't right. He could sense it. She seemed nervous.
"Yeah. Is something up? I didn't crash a date or anything, did I?"
And then he heard it. It was the sound of a man breathing, of heavy footsteps leaving the kitchen.
The man came down the hall with a slow, methodical walk-like a predator taking its time getting the lay of the landscape while it patiently watched its prey.
Zarek frowned as the man stopped in the hallway behind Sharon. Standing only about an inch shorter than Zarek, he had long dark brown hair pulled back into a ponytail and he wore a Western-style outback duster. There was a deadly quick aura around the man and as soon as their eyes met, Zarek knew he'd been betrayed.
This was another Dark-Hunter.
And there was only one out of the thousands of Dark-Hunters who knew about Sharon and him...
Zarek cursed his own stupidity.
The Dark-Hunter inclined his head toward him. "Z," he drawled in a thick Southern accent Zarek knew only too well. "Me and you need to talk."
Zarek couldn't breathe as he stared at Sharon and Sundown together. Sundown was the only person he had ever opened himself up to in his entire two thousand plus years of living.