These men could never go out and mix with living people dressed like this. Each of them needed care. Rest.
Instruction.
Acheron lowered the cowl to his black himation and eyed each man in turn.
As they noted the swirling silver color of his eyes, the men paled.
"Are you a god?" the tallest one asked. "We were told the gods would kill us if we were in their presence."
"I am Acheron Parthenopaeus," he said quietly. "Artemis sent me to train you."
"I am Callabrax of Likonos," the tallest said, confirming his Dorian descent.
He indicated the blond man to his right. "Kyros of Seklos." Then the youngest of their group, "And Ias of Groesia." Ias stood back, his dark eyes hollow. Acheron could hear the man's thoughts as clearly as if they were in his own mind. The man's pain reached out to him, making his own stomach tighten in sympathy.
"How long has it been since you men were created?" Acheron asked them.
"A few weeks for me," Kyros said.
Callabrax nodded. "I was created about the same time."
Acheron looked to Ias.
"Two days ago," he said, his voice empty.
"He's still sick from the conversion," Kyros supplied. "But he is getting better. It was almost a week before I could… adjust."
Acheron stifled the urge to laugh bitterly. It was a good word for it.
"Have you killed any Daimons yet?" he asked them.
"We tried," Callabrax said, "but they are very different from killing soldiers. Stronger. Faster. They don't die easily. We already lost two men to them."
Acheron winced at the thought of two unprepared men going up against the Daimons and the horrific existence that awaited them when they had died.
It was followed by the memory of his first fight…
He blocked the thought out of his mind.
"Have the three of you eaten tonight?"
They nodded.
"Then follow me outside and I'll teach what you need to know to kill them."
Acheron worked with them until it was almost dawn. He shared with them everything he could for one night. Taught them new tactics and moves. Where and how the Daimons were most vulnerable.
At the end of the night, he left them to their cave.
"I shall find you a better place to hide in daylight," he promised them.
"I'm a Dorian," Callabrax said proudly. "I require nothing more than what I have."
"But we're not," Kyros said. "A bed would be most welcome to me and Ias. A bath even more so."
Acheron inclined his head, then motioned for Ias to join him outside.
He stood back as Ias left first, then directed him away from the others' hearing.
"You want to see your wife again," Acheron said quietly.
He looked up, startled. "How do you know that?"
Acheron didn't answer. Even as a human, he'd hated personal questions as they most often led him into conversations he didn't want to have. Pricked at memories he wanted to keep buried.
Closing his eyes, Acheron let his mind wander out, through the cosmos, until he found the woman who haunted Ias's mind.
Liora.
She was a beautiful woman, with hair as black as a raven's wing. Eyes as clear and blue as the open sea.
No wonder Ias missed her.
The woman was currently on her knees, weeping and praying. "Please," she begged the gods. "Please return my love to me. Please let my children have their father home."
Acheron felt sympathy for her at the sight and sound of her fears. No one had told her yet what had happened. She was praying for the welfare of a man who was no longer with her and she didn't even know it.
It haunted him.
"I understand your sadness," he said to Ias, even though he knew he really didn't. Up until he'd been given Simi, he'd had no real concept of love at all, and even now his knowledge of the subject was seriously lacking. "But you can't let them know you live now in this form. They will fear you if you return home. Try to kill you."
Ias's eyes welled with tears, and when he spoke his fangs cut his lips. "Liora has no one else to care for her. She was an orphan when I married her and my brother was killed before I was. There is no one to provide for my widow or children. They will starve and they will suffer."
Suffering was the one thing Acheron knew best, and he felt for them all, but there was nothing that could be done for it. "You can't go back."
"Why not?" Ias asked angrily. "Artemis said that I could have my vengeance on the man who killed me and then I would be alive to serve her. She said nothing about my not being able to go home."
Acheron tightened his grip on his staff. Leave it to Artemis to conveniently forget important details when making a bargain. She was a vicious bitch who didn't care whom she hurt so long as she got what she wanted.
"Ias," he said, gentling his voice, "think for a moment. You are no longer human. How do you think your village would react if you returned home with fangs and black eyes? You can't venture out into daylight. Your allegiance is to all mankind, not just to your family. No one can meet the obligations of both. You can't ever go back."
The man's lips quivered, but he nodded in understanding. "I save humans while my innocent family is cast out to starve with no one to protect them. So, that was my bargain."
Acheron looked away as his heart ached for the man and his family.
"Go inside with the others," Acheron said.
He watched Ias return while he thought over the man's words. He couldn't leave it like this.
Acheron could function alone, but the others… Unlike him, they'd had families. People who loved and missed them. They wouldn't want to spend the rest of eternity isolated and alone.
Closing his eyes, he willed himself back to Artemis's throne room.
This time when her women opened their mouths to scream, Artemis froze their vocal chords.
"Leave us," she commanded them.
The women rushed for the door as fast as they could, then slammed it shut behind them.
As soon as they were alone, Artemis smiled at him. "You are back. I didn't expect to see you so soon."
"Don't, Artemis," he said, curbing her playfulness before she started with it. "I'm basically back to yell at you."
She had the audacity to actually look surprised. "For what?"
He snarled at her. "How dare you lie to those men to get them into your service."
She stiffened angrily. "I never lie."
He arched a brow.
Looking instantly uncomfortable, she cleared her throat and leaned back into her throne. "You were different and I didn't lie. I merely forgot to mention a few things."
"That is semantics, Artemis, and this isn't about me. This is about what you've done to them. You can't leave those poor bastards out there like you have."
"Why not? You've survived quite well on your own."
"I am not the same as them and well you know it. I had nothing in my life worth going back to. No family, no friends."
"I take exception to that. What was I?"
"A mistake that I've been lamenting for the last two thousand years."
Her face flushed. She came off her throne and descended two stairs to stand before him. "How dare you speak to me that way!"
Acheron whipped his cloak off and tossed it and his staff angrily into a corner. "Kill me for it, Artemis. Go right ahead. Do us both a favor and put me out of my misery."
She tried to slap him, but he caught her hand in his and stared down into her green eyes as he fought down the rage that begged him to give her the beating she truly deserved. But unlike her, he refused to give in to his childish urges.
She was damn lucky he had restraint.
Artemis saw the hatred in Acheron's gaze, the scathing condemnation.
Their angry breaths mingled and the air around them snapped furiously as their powers clashed.
But it wasn't his fury she wanted.
No, never his fury…