"I used to do a lot of things I can't do anymore." He gave her a hard stare to remind her of everything she had taken from him.
"You're still angry at me."
"You think so?"
Her eyes snapped emerald fire, reminding him of the demon who resided in her divine body. "I could have forced you to come to me, you know. I've been very tolerant of your defiance. More than I should have been."
He looked away, knowing she was right. She, alone, held possession of the food source he needed to function. When he went too long without her blood, he became an uncontrollable killer. A danger to anyone who came near him.
Only Artemis held the key that kept him as he was. Sane. Whole.
Compassionate.
"Why didn't you force me to your side?" he asked.
"Because I know you. Had I tried, you would have made us both pay for it."
Again, she was right. His days of subjugation were long over. He'd had more than his share of it in his childhood and youth. Having tasted freedom and power, he'd decided he liked it too much to go back to being what he'd been before.
"Tell me of these new Dark-Hunters," he said. "Why did you create them?"
"I told you, you need help."
He curled his lip in anger. "I need no such thing."
"I and the other Greek gods disagree."
"Artemis . . ." he growled her name, knowing she was lying about this. He was more than able to control and kill the Daimons who preyed on the humans. "I swear . . ."
He clenched his teeth as he thought about the first days of his new life. He'd had no one to show him the way. No one to explain to him what he needed to do.
How to live.
The new ones would be lost without a teacher. Confused. Worst of all, they were vulnerable until they learned to use their powers and there was no way Savitar would teach them.
Damn her.
"Where are they?"
"Waiting in Falossos. They hide in a cave that keeps them from the sunlight. But they're not sure what they should do or how to find the Daimons. They are men in need of leadership."
Acheron didn't want to do this. He didn't want to lead anyone any more than he wanted to follow someone else's orders. He didn't want to deal with other people at all.
He'd never wanted anything in his life except to be left alone.
The thought of interacting with others . . .
It made his blood run cold.
Half tempted to go his own way, Acheron knew he couldn't. If he didn't train the men how to fight and kill the Daimons, they would end up dead. Dead without a soul was a very bad existence. He, of all men, knew that one.
"Fine," he said. "I'll train them."
She smiled.
Acheron flashed from her temple back to Simi and ordered her to stay put a little longer. The demon would only complicate an already complicated matter.
Once he was sure she would stay, he teleported to Falossos.
He found the three men huddled in the darkness just as Artemis had said. They were talking quietly among themselves, grouped around a small fire for warmth and yet their eyes watered from the brightness of the flames.
Their eyes were no longer human and could no longer take the brightness that came from any source of light.
He had much to teach them.
Acheron moved forward, out of the shadows.
"Who are you?" the tallest one asked as soon as he saw him. The man was no doubt a Dorian with long black hair. He was tall, powerfully built, and still dressed in battle armor that was in bad need of care and repair.
The men with him were blond Greeks. Their armor was no better than the first man's. The youngest of them had a hole in the center of his breastplate where he'd been stabbed through his heart with a javelin.
These men could never go out and mix with living people dressed like this. Each of them needed care. Rest.