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 would you create more of my kind?”

“I told you, you need help.”

“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 early days of his conversion. 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 rules that bound him to the night.

The new ones would be lost. Confused.

Worst of all, they were vulnerable until they learned to use their powers.

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 on how to fight and kill the Daimons, they would end up dead.