When our lips parted, I realized his arms were around me as well. I hadn’t even noticed. That was terrible strategy if nothing else. I stepped back, awkward but not embarrassed. So that was my very first real kiss. We appraised each other anew.
“Did you like it?” he asked.
“I…didn’t mind.” If he’d known me better, he would have understood how earth-shaking that revelation was, but he didn’t know me. Instead, he looked…disappointed. This unexpected vulnerability tugged at my chest, and I wondered what secrets those soulful dark eyes held.
Impulsively, I kissed him again. He was a little surprised, but he certainly recovered nicely. His soft lips parted for me, letting me in. This time, it was more than our lips touching. I felt a connection with him at his core.
When we separated again, he just stared at me in wonder. His gentleness aroused something in me. Was I too rough? I am a Reaper of mythic strength doing something I’ve never done before. And with a human! That was expressly forbidden in the Reaper code. Adonis would be so disappointed in me.
I said nothing. I couldn’t meet his gaze.
“It was probably a mistake. Bad judgment. I shouldn’t have been so forward. I thought you might…” He trailed off, stepped back and sighed. “My apologies.”
“No apologies necessary.” I must have done something wrong. I was too rough with him. I’m a terrible Reaper. I don’t deserve him or Aaron. And yet, I really want another kiss. What if this was the last kiss I ever experience? Before I could pursue that thought—or kiss him again—he said, “There’s something else you need to know.”
“You’re married?” I knew it.
He laughed at that. “No. There’s been some change at the cave of Lurida Lumo.”
Instantly, all thoughts of more kisses left. “What do you mean?”
“If you’ll trust me, I’ll show you. It’s easier than describing it.”
“I’ll need my sword. It’s inside.”
He drew his, and I tensed despite myself. Then he handed it to me, hilt first. “Use mine. It’s faster, and I’d rather be behind an armed Reaper than in front of an unarmed one.”
A man handing over his sword? In these times, that meant far more than a kiss. A kiss meant he was attracted to me. The sword meant he respected me.
The weapon was well-balanced, clean, and gleamed in the moonlight. I swung it a couple of times, and when it didn’t fall apart in my freakishly strong grip, I nodded. “All right. Show me.”
#
We went down the trail toward the cave. I had no trouble seeing, and Damato apparently knew the way so well he didn’t need a light. We passed the row of little shrines. After seeing the main shrine in town, I was now very curious about what these smaller ones depicted and what they told about Lurida Lumo. But Damato moved too quickly for that.
When we were about to descend into the gully, he held up his hand to stop.
“Be especially quiet from here,” he whispered. “I don’t know what we might find.”
“I killed the spider,” I said.
“I know you did. But did you ever think there might be more than one?”
I hadn’t, which made me want to slap myself. I should’ve known that just from the corners of my own bedroom. If one spider liked it, you can be sure another would be nearby. But surely, a whole herd of giant spiders couldn’t live in that cave without being noticed. I mean, they’d have to come out to eat, wouldn’t they? What else might live in the cave for them to feed on? And if something else did live there, why would they ever come out at all?
I was more silent than he was, which made him glance back repeatedly to ensure I was still there. That made me smile. After forty years as a slave to the demons, Quiet was my middle name.
When we reached the bottom of the gully, I saw a faint, blue glow emanating from the cave.
“There,” he said, and pointed. “What do you make of that?”
“I’ve seen moss glow,” I said.
“That’s not moss,” he said. It’s coming from down inside the cave.”
“It could still be moss.”
“Keep watching.”
I did. For a long time, I saw nothing. Then, a shadow moved through the light. It wasn’t close enough to the mouth that I could see the form casting it, but it was definitely there and alive. And it didn’t look like a spider. Nor moss. It looked like a person, a big person, crossing through the light.
“Let’s go see,” I said, and started forward, but he grabbed my arm.
“I admire your courage, little Reaper, but I’m not sure your plan is a good idea.”
“Call me ‘little Reaper’ again, and I’ll show you something else you won’t think is a good idea.”
He smiled. “Point taken. But there’s something else I want you to see.”
We moved cautiously closer to the cave. The shadow did not reappear in the blue light. Damato pointed to the dusty ground.
I saw prints from my own boots, made when I’d rescued Amelia. There were scuff marks from the battle and little round prints where the spider had stepped. But atop these were bare human prints, each toe visible. These were enormous, easily twice the size of mine. Whoever or whatever left them had emerged from the cave, looked around, then returned.
I turned to Damato. “What do you think this means?”
“It means one of two things. Somebody lives in the cave and came out. Or the god Lurida Lumo emerged to see why he hadn’t gotten his sacrifice.”
I was silent for a moment. “Should we tell anyone?”
“If we do, they’ll grab Amelia and bring her back, and I’m not sure you’d be able to rescue her again.”
“Yes, I could,” I said with certainty.
“Even if I stood in your way?”
“You’d do that?”
“I work for them. Not you. And it’s hard to argue with the idea that you’re a danger.”
“You kissed me.”
“I’ve also given my word to protect this village. Even if it means going up against the most beautiful woman, human or Reaper, that I’ve ever seen.”
I looked at him in the blue half-light, his face serious, and impulsively kissed him again. I admired his courage, his honesty, and his willingness to live up to his obligations in the face of almost certain death. After all, no human could take on a Reaper. Not really. And this time, it didn’t remind me of Aaron’s kiss at all.
When our lips parted, he said, “You’re a virgin, aren’t you?”
“You can tell that from a kiss?”
“I can tell it from your surprise at a kiss, yes. Am I right?”
How do I answer that? In one sense, yes, I was. In another, no one held captive by Demons for as long as I was could remain innocent. “You…I might be.”
He kissed the tip of my nose. “I thought so.”
I put my hand on his chest. Beneath his leather and muscles, I felt his heart. “Damato, I…I don’t really know what to say. Or do. I’ve never…I’ve only ever kissed one other boy…man, I mean.”
“Then I’m special,” he said softly.
“You are,” I agreed. I don’t know who started the kiss this time, but we both attacked it with our warriors’ fury. He put his hands all over me, places no one had ever touched me with kindness before, and through the thin, borrowed dress, I felt things that I couldn’t have imagined five minutes before.
Then, to my absolute horror, he said, “Ow!”
What had I done now? I’d hurt him? If so, I couldn’t tell where. “What happened?”
“Nothing, I just forgot about your spikes.” He put his finger in his mouth and sucked the blood from the puncture. “Entirely my fault. Hope I didn't get blood on your dress.”
“Are you all right?” I said. My heart was trying to choke me.
“Yeah,” he said, and kissed me again.
We stopped when we were both breathless, but Damato spoke first, and what he said surprised me. “I don’t think it would be honorable of m
e to pursue this right now, but I hope—if and when the situation with Amelia is cleared up—that we can pick up this thread again. It might lead to some…wonderful places.”
That was so confusing I had to ignore it. Better to focus on the task at hand when things get screwy. If I want to be the protector of the world, I should probably focus more on that. “This doesn’t solve our problem though. What’s in that cave? And how do we protect Amelia from it and from her people?”
“Let me talk to Yazel. I know she seems a little loony, but she’s really very smart and a pretty good politician. I’ll come see you tomorrow after I talk to her, all right?”
I thought about this. If Damato collected the information, I was free to protect Amelia’s life and limb. A sound strategy. “All right.”
I wanted to kiss him again, but I refrained. And the longing was even more delicious. What was this?
#
We were silent all the way back to the village, where I returned his sword and he gave me a jaunty salute as he strode away into the night. I slipped back into the house and was about to go back to bed when Hatho said softly, “Where have you been?”
He stood in the main room near the hearth, his little night dress white against the shadows. He looked impossibly small, almost like a toy child. Was I ever that little? I said softly, “I went for a walk, and now I’m going back to bed. You should too.”
“I had a bad dream,” he said, head down.
“I have those sometimes,” I admitted.
“Do you think Lurida Lumo will come back for Amelia?”
“Not after I got done with him,” I assured him.
He thought about that then walked over and took my hand. The contact shocked me. I’d never felt such a tiny, fragile thing before, and I realized that humans were always fragile, never more so than when they were babies. I looked at him for a long moment. Don’t hurt him! I told myself. I was afraid to close my hand around his for fear I would break it off. First-generation Reapers like me were notorious for ripping human's limb from limb at the behest of our demon fathers. What if—? No. No. I forced myself to stop. I would not let negative thoughts scare me away from this most precious experience.
I looked down and noticed the green flecks in the big blue eyes that stared back at me. What a sweet, innocent child. He didn’t see me as a monster. Not right now, at least. I led him back into the bedroom and tucked him in, the way I remembered Diah doing for me. I wanted to kiss him on the cheek, but fear stopped me. Again, I didn’t want to hurt him. So I crawled into bed and stretched out beside Amelia, who didn’t wake. And again, I stared at the ceiling until dawn, thinking about Damato’s hands and Aaron’s lips and the confusing sensations both these very different human males aroused in me.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The next morning, they came for us.
Just after breakfast a firm, no-nonsense knock rattled the door. Heod opened it to find Damato standing there, his hands clasped formally behind him. “The village council demands the presence of your daughter Amelia and her friend Aella,” he said. “They also order you and the rest of your family to stay home.” There was no trace of the gentle man I’d kissed just hours before.
“They can demand and order all they want,” Heod said. “The last time they demanded, she nearly died.” He looked over at Sela, who nodded her approval of his defiance.
Damato sighed. “Heod, I understand your attitude, but this is for real. I have orders to bring them by whatever means necessary.” He looked past Heod at me. “That means if you resist, someone is likely to die: me, you, or some of your family. The only way to avoid that is to let me take them.”
“What will happen to them?”
“I honestly don’t know.”
“If they try to sacrifice her again, I’ll hold you responsible.”
“Understood.” He stepped back. “Aella, Amelia…please come with me.”
I met Amelia’s eyes and nodded. I trusted Damato, and if that failed, I’d protect her even if it meant slaughtering half this village.
As we stepped through the door, men suddenly grabbed me. Before I could react, which says more about me than about my attackers, heavy metal shackles were snapped around my wrists and neck. I snarled and pulled away, but these weren’t normal bonds. These were Demon manacles—old and rusted but still solid. I could not possibly break free of them. Even still, I gave it a go. There’s something about metal around my throat that brings out the animal in me. And I sounded like one right about now.
I glared at Damato, trying to regain control. Bound this way, I’d hurt myself more than I would anyone else. Through clenched teeth, I said, “Get these off me!”
“I’m sorry, Aella,” he said. “I can’t risk you being on the loose while the council decides what to do about Amelia.” The two men who'd ambushed me scurried to hide behind Damato, their faces white with fear. I wondered how he'd convinced them to do this.
And then one of them laughed.
Despite my best efforts, I lost it for real this time. I lunged at him, teeth bared like an animal. Damato stepped nimbly in front of him and swept my feet out from under me, sending me face-first into the hard-packed dirt. The two henchmen jumped in and locked shackles around my ankles. I was thoroughly contained now, and I spat dirt as I got to my knees, nothing but hate in my eyes for the man who kissed me last night and betrayed me at dawn.
“Try anything again, and I’ll have to gag you,” Damato said. He held a metal face-clamp, the kind used to silence Demons. I wondered where the hell he had gotten these things, but I also knew I didn’t want to wear it. I nodded, struggled to my feet, and tried not to look at Amelia’s terrified face. I couldn’t protect her now. I am the world’s worst warrior.
#
The Cartwangle council met in a big hut that looked older than all the other buildings. It had been repaired over the years but never updated or remodeled. I imagined it to be the same hut first built on this spot back when the humans thought the area might be safe enough from Demons to settle down.
There was a short chain that hung from the collar around my neck, but no one had the nerve to try to hold it. That was good; I don’t think I could’ve tolerated being led around by a leash. As it was, Damato stood behind me, one hand lightly on my shoulder. I would have bitten it off if the metal collar hadn’t been so thick. I couldn’t take very big steps because of the shackles, so we moved slowly. I was angry and humiliated. Again.
Amelia wasn’t tied or bound, but four villagers surrounded her, two of them holding her arms. She looked terrified. I grew more and more angry, which seemed impossible. It was one thing to be tortured by Demons. One expects such behavior from them. Betrayal is a thousand times worse than that.
Inside the hut, the walls were flat, wooden panels painted with elaborate, stylized depictions of the village’s history. Several showed battle scenes from the Thousand Year War with Demons and Reapers fighting over the corpses of humans. I wanted to study them, to see what they said about Lurida Lumo, but I had much more pressing issues. Like the council of elders.
There they were: six dusty men seated behind a table, wearing ridiculous robes. No women—typical for humans. They felt that women lacked the intelligence or fortitude to rule. Morons. They wore the weight of the world on their saggy, lined faces, and one sported an enormous hat, like a crown crossed with an aleskin.
“Thank you, Damato, for carrying out your orders,” Aleskin-hat said. I recognized him then as Sixle, the elder I’d slammed against the wall. This was not shaping up to be a good day. “The girl Reaper has proven herself to be a danger.”
“Don’t thank me,” Damato said. “Just get this over with.”
Sixle stood and looked at me. “You, intruder, have done more damage in the two days you’ve been here than the Demons did during the entire Thousand Year War. You have challenged our faith and our sovereignty. Were it within my power, I would sacrifice you to Lurida Lumo, but he will accept only human virgins.�
�
I should’ve pushed you right through that wall, I wanted to say but held my tongue.
“Therefore, we will deal with you in a more appropriate manner when we are done with your friend,” he continued. “Amelia, step forward and face the council.”
The two men holding her pushed her into the open space before the table.
“Amelia, you were chosen to be the sacrifice to Lurida Lumo.”
“No, Kelinda was chosen!” Amelia snapped. “It’s not my fault she died too soon! And I shouldn’t have to pay the price for that!”
“You were chosen as well, just with less…ceremony. And I will thank you to not use that offensive tone.”
“Well, if my tone is offensive, maybe that means I’m offended! You people have been sending us off to die for how many generations now? Always girls; never boys. Did you ever think about that? Why can’t Lurida Lumo accept a virgin boy?”
“Lurida Lumo’s wishes are well known to us,” the priest Litwin said patiently.
“Then just kill me and get it over with,” Amelia said, “because I’ll kill myself before I let you send me to be eaten by a monster again.”
“That, alas, cannot happen,” Sixle said. “Thanks to your friend.”
I recalled the tracks Damato and I saw last night. If he told the council about them, Amelia was doomed. I might be as well. But the traitor remained silent.
“Wait a minute. Hold on,” a familiar voice warned. Yazel, leaning on a ridiculously thin cane, stomped her way through the crowd. She glanced at Amelia then faced the men. “What nonsense are you old wrinkled peckers up to now?”
“Damato,” Sixle said, “please escort Yazel outside. She’s made it clear many times that she’s not part of this village, so this does not concern her.”
“Is that right?” the old woman said and pointed at Damato with the cane. “You keep your hands to yourself, boy, if that’s at all possible. What I’ve got to say won’t take long.” Did she know about last night? No. Not possible.
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