Dance with the Devil: A Dark-Hunter Novel (Book 3)

Acheron Parthenopaeus was a man of many secrets and powers. As the firstborn Dark-Hunter and leader of their kind, he had set himself up over nine thousand years ago to be the buffer between them and Artemis, the goddess of the hunt, who had created them.

It was a job he seldom relished and a position he'd always hated. Like an errant child, Artemis loved nothing more than to push him just to see how far she could go before he called her down.

Theirs was a complicated relationship that hinged on a balance of power. He alone possessed the ability to keep her calm and rational.

At least most of the time.

Meanwhile she held the one source of food that he needed to stay human. Compassionate.

Without her, he would become a soulless killer even worse than the Daimons who preyed on humankind.

Without him, she would have no heart or conscience.

On Mardi Gras night, he'd bargained with her to exchange two weeks of his servitude so that she would release Talon's soul and allow the Dark-Hunter to leave their service and spend his immortality with the woman he loved.

Talon was liberated from hunting vampires and other demonic creatures who stalked the earth looking for hapless victims.

Now Ash was restricted from using most of his powers while he was locked inside Artemis's temple where he had to rely on her whims to keep him informed about the progress of Zarek's hunt.

He knew the betrayal Zarek felt and it gnawed at him. Better than anyone, he understood what it meant to be left completely alone, to survive on instinct and to have only enemies around him.

Ash couldn't stand the thought of one of his men feeling like that.

"I want you to call off Thanatos," Ash said as he sat on the marble floor at Artemis's feet. She lay across her ivory-colored throne that had always reminded him of an over-stuffed chaise lounge. It was decadent and soft, a pure study in hedonistic delight.

Artemis was nothing if not a creature of comfort.