Chapter 2
When the little Honda finally arrived at the dark alleyway Acheron had designated as "the meeting place," sunlight was beginning to bleed across the horizon. Knowing his time was short now that the first rays of morning had arrived, he quickly hurried out of the car and opened the trunk.
"What is the hurry, Greek?"
Startled, Zarek looked over his shoulder. He hadn't known that Reses had gotten out to check on him, and was surprised. Few people cared about what he did in his spare time, but, since his spare time now involved Reses, he supposed it was only natural for him to be concerned. Even so, he couldn't quite still the rush of…well, hell if he knew. He would have called it happiness, or perhaps gratefulness, except Zarek was unfamiliar with both.
Suddenly, what the silver-haired man asked sank in.
"What do you mean? It is fast approaching daylight, and I must be indoors soon." He stopped long enough in his task of wrestling the duffel from the trunk long enough to stare at Reses.
"Why?"
Zarek looked at him disbelievingly. "I'm a Dark-Hunter. Sunlight is fatal to all of us, because we no longer have souls. Didn't Morsus tell you what I was?"
Reses shook his head, and a few wisps of silver gleamed in the early morning sunbeams, and, even though he told himself it was irrelevant, Zarek marveled at how attractive Reses was.
"He said you were a Dark-Hunter who slays Daimons, but I did not know what a Dark-Hunter was. Besides," his voice turned bitter, "Morsus rarely tells me anything about the people I am to serve. He thinks that warning me of what kind of beings they are would be…giving me an unfair advantage, so to speak."
For a moment, Zarek felt a flash of annoyance at the spider-god. Stupid, self-important bug. He knew that slaves rarely learned about their future masters: he certainly hadn't when he was younger. But the idea that Reses, someone who Zarek had known less than an hour, was thrown into situations without any knowledge to prepare himself with roused his sense of indignation enough that he felt his expression change, if only slightly. Still, he was surprised when Reses noticed.
"What is the matter?"
Zarek took a deep breath and was about to respond when a young man stepped out of the shadows. Even from the other end of the alley, Zarek saw the sleek black ponytail, and the shiny nose ring. He sighed. Acheron must have gotten a new piercing, and died his hair again. He seemed to do that a lot, but Zarek didn't have a clue why.
"Zarek," Acheron greeted as he came closer, moving around the few soiled newspapers and tin cans with his usual grace. He stopped a few feet away, and smiled at Zarek, his smile, as usual, not quite reaching his mercury-colored eyes. He turned his head slightly and noticed Reses. He rose one eyebrow, and spoke softly, the accent he had acquired in Atlantis making his voice slightly clipped.
"I was expecting Morsus, or no one at all. I'm afraid I do not know who you are."
Once again, Reses was back to smiling politely. Zarek sighed inwardly as he once again felt Reses establish the cool distance he had had when Zarek had first met him. Over the last hour, he had relaxed considerably, but now he was back to standing stiffly, with his hands behind his back.
"I assume you are Acheron of Atlantis. I am Reses. I am…an acquaintance of Morsus."
"Acquaintance?" Acheron asked coldly, and Zarek was surprised by the distaste in his tone. He had never, in the many years he had known him, seen Acheron attack someone without reason. It puzzled him to see it now, and almost told Reses not to answer when he remembered who he was dealing with. He could no sooner silence his commander than he could have done it to Morsus. He may consider himself on an almost friendly basis with the Atlantian, but he doubted he would be able to get away with telling him to mind his goddamn business. Resignedly, he stayed silent.
"Yes, I am a slave, if that is what you were implying." Reses replied serenely, almost sweetly. He was clearly used to people judging him to be a low being, barely worth the dirt on the ground.
"Actually, it wasn't," said Acheron quietly, as he turned his face away, but not before Zarek saw his cheeks heat. Evidently, he was embarrassed by his questions, which was more fitting to the man he knew. However, instead of feeling his usual cautious compassion, he felt his jaw tighten, and he couldn't explain the anger he was beginning to feel.
When the Atlantian looked back at them, he seemed to have regained his composure. He cleared his throat, and looked at Zarek. He seemed to be waiting for him to say something, but, try as he might, he couldn't. He rarely lost his temper, but he knew that if he opened his mouth, he'd say something he would regret, caused by the anger he couldn't explain and didn't want to examine. Acheron smiled at him, seeming to understand.
"It's all right, Zarek. I wasn't attacking him."
With effort, Zarek was finally able to speak with his usual emotionless voice.
"I didn't think you were."
A lie, to be sure, but nothing major. He was good at telling them, and, besides, Zarek was a born liar. His entire life was made of lies, and he wallowed in them. Further more, had he actually expressed concern over Acheron's emotional assault, he could only imagine the look Reses would be giving him, instead of the politely confused one he wore now. Life was difficult enough to survive without having people openly trusting or depending on him. Besides, he thought violently, it's easier on people when they're let down if they're expecting it. The gods knew he should have expected it when he was younger.
The Atlantian smiled at him again.
"I'm sure. Zarek, if you don't get going, you won't make it to your shelter before sunrise." He must have seen the look Zarek shot at Reses' back, because he continued in the same blank voice, only there was a rare underlying hint of amusement in his voice.
"Don't worry. In a few hours, once I have discussed the situation with Reses, then I will drop him off at your house."
Zarek was in the middle of tilting his head respectfully, or as close as he could to being respectful, at the Atlantian, when his head snapped up in surprise.
"He's staying with me?" Zarek asked, astonished. The Atlantian always made certain that nobody stayed in the same area as Zarek when he slept, because it was when his nightmares came, and he couldn't control his anger, or his powers. It had always been a fear of Acheron's that Zarek might accidentally hurt someone in his sleep, and, truth be told, secretly, it was one of Zarek's as well. He might be an asshole, and a bastard, but that didn't mean he wanted some random innocent being hurt. Acheron must be out of his mind.
"Yes, actually. Since you seemed to show such-" he paused, and Zarek got the distinct feeling Acheron was laughing at him. Zarek glared at him, baring his teeth. Acheron continued without blinking.
"-such concern for his welfare, it seems only fitting that you watch over him."
Zarek was about to snap at the Atlantian for his foolishness, when Reses beat him to it.
"I beg your pardon. I do not need 'watching over.' You are foolish if you think otherwise," he said, his tone icy and his ocher eyes flashing. For once, Reses didn't look fragile, and Zarek was reminded of what the spider had said. Reses is unique… Perhaps Zarek had been too soon to think Reses was simply a "pretty boy."
Acheron rose an eyebrow at Reses, and grinned at Zarek, looking for all the world as if he knew something they didn't.
"Of course you don't. I doubt Morsus would have sent you if you did need protected, since it seems to me that he would be quite…fond of someone like you."
What the hell does that mean? Zarek thought, sensing an insult but not seeing where.
"However, it is not your prowess in battle I doubt. Daimons aren't the only enemy you may acquire while in New Orleans."
"Acheron, will you stop playing word games and get to the point. If you have one." Zarek hissed, his patience having run out. He knew of the Atlantian's liking for being mysterious, and, normally, accepted it as coming with being a former slave. He himself was also unnaturally silent about his past and his thoughts on occasion. However, now it was getting on his nerves.
"Zarek," he said with a sigh, "you yourself know that others of our kind tend to view newcomers with hostility. Especially Romans," he said pointedly, and Zarek nodded as understanding dawned on him. There was no doubt in his mind that Valerius, and other ignorant prats like him, wouldn't like someone more attractive than them, which Reses definitely was, anywhere near them. Besides, if what the spider-god had to say had any inkling of truth in it, Reses was to follow Zarek's orders, so it only made sense that they be near one another. It was perfectly logical, and understandable. However, Zarek still couldn't shake the feeling that it was a very, very bad idea for Reses to stay with him.
"Fine," he snapped. "But I still don't like it," he finished, and turned, heading towards his car before any of them could say another word.
Reses shook his head, watching almost in shock as the tall Greek stormed away. Well, that was odd. That had to be the first time anyone had ever objected to staying in the same abode with him. Normally, they didn't let him out of their site for more than a few minutes at a time. It was, he decided, fairly refreshing for someone not to want him around. He wondered how long it would last.
He glanced at the giant Atlantian to his side, and noticed that he was also watching him. The devil incarnate, Morsus had called him. Reses, who tended to disagree with almost everything Morsus said, found himself believing the spider god. For whatever reason, Acheron had hated him on site, and hadn't hesitated to show it. While it confused him, he was smart enough not to show it, and they stared at each other for several seconds in silence. Finally, Acheron looked away, and cleared his throat.
"Well," he said, looking at his hands.
"Yes. Well," Reses replied, still looking at the Atlantian who refused to meet his eyes.
"Do you have anything else insulting you want to say? Don't hesitate. Come out and say it," he said with a sigh.
"I don't know what you mean," Acheron answered, his silvery eyes finally looking down at him, completely blank. Whatever he saw there must have made him realize that lies weren't helping the situation, and one side of his mouth twisted up in a grim smile.
"Very well. I'll admit that I reacted…deplorably when I met you, much to, I believe, Zarek's dismay. I wasn't expecting…Never mind," he paused, and his eyes showed embarrassment.
Reses gave a thin smile. This was the sort of reaction he had expected from Zarek. Maybe the man was being honest when he said he saw Reses only as a fellow warrior. Hmmm…what a surprising creature this Greek was turning out to be.
"No, by all means, finish." When he remained silent, Reses gave a cold laugh. "You were either going to say 'slave' or 'pretty boy,' I'm not sure which." At the Atlantian's look of surprise, he continued. "It's alright. I am used to this reaction in one form or another."
"Did Zarek react that way?" Acheron asked nonchalantly, suddenly very interested in the gravel on the ground.
Reses frowned, wondering why it mattered to him. But then, the man was Zarek's commander.
"No. He was very…polite, and well…nice, I suppose."
Acheron laughed richly, his body shaking with mirth, as though laughing at an inside joke.
"I'll bet he was. Never mind. What I was trying to say was that, since you are now an associate of Zarek's, as his commander, I shouldn't have been so rude. I thought you were Morsus' lover," he blurted out, then continued quietly. "And, since I don't like Morsus, I naturally wouldn't like anyone he cared for. As I said before, I apologize."
"I accept your apology, as that assumption has been made before." And it's not too far from the truth, he thought drolly. Of course, he was hesitant to tell the dark-haired Atlantian that.
"Thank you. Now," he continued, all businesslike, "I suppose I should tell you what exactly is going on. Assuming," he glanced over at him as they began walking, "that Morsus was a little vague on the details."
"He was, yes." Reses said evenly, trying not to sound enthusiastic in the least, although, in truth, he was eager to understand all the oddities he had encountered so far.
"Very well. My name is, as you know doubt guessed, Acheron of Atlantis. It is my duty to command and instruct every Dark-Hunter in the land. I presume you know what a Dark-Hunter is?"
"I do, yes." And he could only be grateful that Zarek had bothered to explain them to him.
"Very well. At the moment, we are having a bit of a problem with fighting Daimons. There is a Daimon migration going on, and they're all coming to New Orleans. I'm afraid that, without additional help, my Dark-Hunters, of which there are only a few in the city, will be overpowered. Since there is a Mardi Gras celebration coming soon, many people could be hurt if they are not protected," he finished.
Reses was startled. Daimons hurt humans? No wonder Morsus had thought Reses would not object to lending a hand, or, as the case may be, a sword. Having once been a human himself, he protected the race when at all possible. He glanced at the Atlantian, who was regarding him thoughtfully. The man had left something out.
"You know something else," he stated blankly. It was not a question: he knew the man was hiding something.
"Yes," he replied honestly. "But it is purely personal, and most likely will not affect you, or the others. Speaking of which," he glanced warily at him. "You will be meeting the other Dark-Hunters in the area, some of which are not very exceptive of strangers. I suggest that when you meet them, you stay close to Zarek." He stilled Reses objections with a hand. "I know you said you did not need watching over, but think of it this way. He is not protecting you: he is merely averting any trouble you may have, making sure that the others notice you are a friend of his. They are scared of him, and will not bother you. Much," he supplied, and lowered his hand.
He seemed to consider his next statement. "Also," he began hesitantly, "if, for any reason, you feel uncomfortable, or in danger, around Zarek, tell me. I will, if necessary, find you somewhere else to stay." With a flick of his hand, he held out a slip of paper with Zarek's address and directions on it.
"Thank you," he said, surprised. At Acheron's dismissive, haughty gesture, Reses smiled. Bowing his head respectfully at the Atlantian, something he hadn't done in a long time, he turned and walked away, beginning, he supposed, the first step in a long journey.