The door swung open slowly.
Ash walked inside, his eyes instantly adjusting to the pitch-blackness. He closed the door with a mental push and reached out with his senses.
Zarek was in the sitting room on his left.
The ex-slave had neglected to turn on the heat so the house had a frigid chill to it. But then, Zarek was so used to the subzero temps in Alaska that he probably didn't even notice the more moderate cold of New Orleans in February.
Heading for the sitting room, Ash stopped as he caught sight of Zarek lying on the floor by the Victorian sofa. Dressed only in black sweatpants, Zarek appeared to be asleep, but Ash knew he wasn't.
Zarek's senses were as honed as his own and the ex-slave would never allow anyone to enter his sleeping area without being fully alert and ready to strike.
Ash let his gaze wander over Zarek's bare back. On the lower part of his spine was a highly stylized dragon. It was the only mark his back currently held, but Ash remembered a time when Zarek's flesh had been covered in scars so deep that Ash had actually flinched the first time he'd seen them.
A whipping boy for Valerius's family, Zarek had grown up paying the price every time Valerius or his brothers had crossed the line.
The scars hadn't been just on his back. They had been on his legs, chest, arms, and face. One facial scar over his blinded left eye had been so severe that Zarek had barely been able to open the eye. The scar on the cheek below that eye had given his face a twisted, misshapen look.
In his human lifetime, Zarek had walked with a pronounced limp and his right arm had barely functioned.
When he'd first crossed over and become a Dark-Hunter, Zarek hadn't even been able to meet Ash's gaze. He'd stared at the floor, cringing every time Ash moved.
Normally, Ash gave newly created Dark-Hunters a choice of keeping their physical scars or having them removed. In Zarek's case, he hadn't asked. Zarek's body had been so badly damaged that he had erased them immediately.
His second course of action had been to teach the man to fight back.
And fight back he'd done. By the time Ash had finished his training, Zarek had unleashed a fury so strong that it gave him incredible powers.
Unfortunately, it also made the man uncontrollable.
"You gonna keep staring at me, Great Acheron, or are you ready to chew me a new one?"
Ash sighed. Zarek still hadn't moved. He lay there with his back to him, his arm tucked under his head.
"What do you want me to say to you, Z? You knew better than to attack a cop. Never mind three of them."
"So what? I was supposed to let them handcuff me and take me to jail where I could wait for sunup in a cell?"
He ignored Zarek's rancor. "What happened?"
"They saw me kill the Daimons and tried to apprehend me. I merely protected myself."
"Protecting yourself doesn't require giving one a concussion, one a set of broken ribs, and another one a busted jaw."
Zarek rolled to his feet and glared at him. "What happened to them was their own fault. They should have backed off when I told them to."
Ash returned Zarek's glare even keel. Zarek possessed the ability to stir his anger even faster than Artemis did. "Dammit, Z, I'm tired of taking shit from Artemis because you can't behave."
"What's the matter, Highness? Can't take the criticism? I guess that's what happens when you grow up noble. You never have to worry about having your behavior censored. Everyone thinks you're perfect. Meanwhile you're free to frolic through your life. Tell me, what made you a Dark-Hunter? Someone scuff your boots and get away with it?"
Ash closed his eyes and counted to twenty. Slowly. He knew ten would never be enough to calm him.
Zarek raked him with that familiar sneer. The ex-slave had always hated him. But Ash didn't take it personally. Zarek hated everyone.
"I know what you think of me, O Great Acheron. I know how much you pity me and I don't need it. Do you honestly think I could ever forget the way you looked at me the first night we met? You stood there with horror in your eyes as you tried not to show it to me.
"Well, you achieved your good deed. You cleaned up your little foundling and made him all pretty and healthy. But don't even think that means I have to lick your boots or kiss your ass for it. My days of subjugation are over."
Ash growled low in his throat as he fought down the urge to splinter the man against the far wall. "Don't push me, Z. I'm the only thing standing between you and a deathly existence so bad it's beyond even your comprehension."