“I agreed to it because if I didn’t go after you, she would have found someone else to do so. I couldn’t in good conscience see a woman turned over to demons.”
“Unless the woman was spawn,” Airie added. Her fingers tightened on the bedding, the tips whitening.
She spoke the truth—that was to be his justification. He despised himself for it.
“I tried to keep you from coming here,” he reminded her.
“Yet here we are.” She shifted to face him. “What will you do with me?”
“You aren’t listening.” He wanted the fire back in her eyes. “I said that you, Scratch, and I are leaving.”
“When the goddesses and the Demon Lord all want me dead? Why would I want to endanger the two of you?”
“Mamna does not represent the goddesses.” Hunter needed her to understand that. “She’s an evil, hateful little woman who has made a position for herself by using the immortals to her advantage.” He cupped her chin so that she had to look at him. “I don’t believe they want you dead. You told me that a goddess speaks to you. What of that?”
Airie’s gaze remained steady and unreadable. “You were right, and I was mistaken. It is a demon.”
Hunter drove a hand through his hair. He had done nothing to make her believe in her own worth. He had a lot to atone for.
“Do you trust me?” he demanded.
Airie bit her lip.
“Do you?”
She finally nodded, and the weight crushing his lungs eased.
“I never told you what happened to my sister. I’ve never told anyone.” He swallowed against the painful lump in his throat that always accompanied her memory and forced himself to continue. “We grew up in the Borderlands. She was closest to me in age, and very beautiful, even more so than my other sisters. I’d gotten used to them sneaking in and out of the house to meet boyfriends over the years, so when she started doing it too, I didn’t think anything of it. Not until she got pregnant. And even then, when she begged me not to tell, I kept her secret for her. We lived so far from demon territory the possibility never occurred to me. I thought the father was some local boy.”
He brushed the backs of his knuckles up and down the side of her neck, and she closed her eyes as if knowing how the story would end.
“She disappeared one night, and when I finally tracked her down in the desert, the spawn had already torn her to shreds. I killed it. In demon form, they carry the markings of their fathers. I tracked the father down, and I killed him, too. Now you know why I hate spawn, and why I hate demons.”
Airie looked away. “I see.”
“No, you don’t see,” Hunter replied. He shifted one leg, turning Airie to face him. “You are not spawn, and you are not a demon. You are Airie—nothing more, nothing less, just as your mother said. And nothing will ever change that. I won’t allow anything to happen to either you or Scratch. We will find a place for the three of us. In the meantime, stay here, stay out of sight, and let me take care of everything.”
He kissed her, felt her lips part, then deepened it briefly before drawing away. She had been up all night, waiting for him. They were both exhausted. He had things to do, but nothing that couldn’t wait. Right now he wanted to make certain she slept.
He settled onto a pillow and spooned her against him, her back to his front, his hand covering one of her breasts.
Once Airie fell asleep, he would return Mamna’s gold. Then they would prepare to leave. He ran through the things they would need in his head. Crossing a desert of demons with her was not going to be easy.
Staying in Freetown, however, would be disastrous for everyone.
Chapter Fifteen
Hunter dressed, then watched Airie sleep for a long time.
She was golden-skinned and painfully lovely, with her long black hair loose across one naked shoulder and shining in a shaft of sunlight. The rainbow-hued amulet around her neck gleamed, exuding contentment. The one he wore emitted a similar sensation. He wished he could share in it.
He felt as if he had stolen something irreplaceable from her. He had taken what he’d wanted, had told himself it was in her best interests, but by doing so, he had tied her to him without regard for her wishes. He could not let her go now, and while he no longer had any objection to having her as a permanent part of his life, who was to say she wanted him always in hers?
He left her sleeping, and with his boots in his hand, crept silently down the back stairs to the second floor.
As quiet as he tried to be, Blade heard him.
He stopped Hunter at the landing, beckoning him into the hall so their voices would not carry. He looked like hell, but Hunter did not ask why. They had both spent a long night and another approached. Hunter knew he looked no better.
“Where are you going?” Blade asked him.
“To return Mamna’s money.” He met his friend’s gaze. “Then Airie, the boy, and I are leaving. It’s not safe for anyone with her here.”
Blade inclined his head. “That’s probably wise.”
Hunter doubted if it could be called wise to take a beautiful, half-demon woman and a small child on a cross-country trek through the heart of demon territory, particularly when demons now hunted without the west winds as warning.
It also ate at him to leave Freetown, and Blade in particular, without his skills as the Slayer to help them, knowing that an attack was imminent.
“When I get back we should talk about what will come tonight, and how to protect people against it the best way possible,” he added.
Again, Blade nodded.
Hunter yanked on his boots and left through the saloon at the front of the building to avoid the women he could hear laughing together in the kitchen.
He wondered how Mamna would react to the news of Airie’s death.
…
She made Freetown unsafe for its inhabitants.
Airie huddled at the top of the stairs with her chin resting on her bare knees, hugging her legs, listening to the voices of the two men a floor below.
The grimness in their tone when they spoke of Mamna also made her uneasy. Why would a priestess want to turn Airie, who had been raised in the goddesses’ very own temple, over to demons the goddesses despised?
It forced her to examine an unpleasant reality. Despite Airie’s belief that at least one of them continued to favor her, it meant the goddesses despised spawn, too. There could be no other explanation.
Did you know that your eyes are on fire?
Pain filled her heart. No matter how he felt at the moment, deep down she would always be spawn to Hunter. When he looked at her, he would forever be reminded of the death of a sister he had loved. She doubted she could live with that tragedy lingering between them.
She also doubted he had ever intended to take a half demon as a lover, and did not delude herself into believing that he could have lasting feelings for her. Her demon’s allure might be enough for him now, but it would never be enough for Airie. Always, she would wonder when that false attraction might wear off, and she would worry over it.
She wanted a place in the world, but she wanted one that was real and not based on demon illusion. Hunter would hate himself when he realized what making love to her had meant. And worse, he would come to hate her.
Airie did not think she could bear to watch his feelings for her turn to hate when hers had slowly and irrevocably been turning to love.
She also did not want to be the reason he left an entire town defenseless. He could help these people, and so could she. She was the one the Demon Lord wanted. If she left the city, the demons would have no reason to attack Freetown.
Hunter would try to follow her, she knew. She would have to put as much distance between them as possible. She was not even certain what direction she should take, but thought if she followed the wagon train’s path, she would eventually find a place she could hide.
It was also difficult for her to think of leaving Scratch behind. She blinked back a few
tears. She could not take him with her. Hunter had been right about that, too. She could not care for him. But Ruby already loved him and would see to his welfare.
Ruby had left Airie a clean change of clothes on a chair next to the bed. She dressed in a simple brown skirt that tied at the waist and a long-sleeved, light cotton blouse. The skirt was several inches too short and the blouse too tight across her breasts, but Airie cared little for clothes other than that they be clean and reasonably comfortable, which these were. She would have loved to replace Hunter’s old boots with the socks stuffed in the toes, but those could not be helped.
She took a few coins from where Hunter had hidden them. She would buy what she needed in the market.
She tied her hair in its braid, then made her way out to the street unseen by Blade or the other inhabitants of the saloon.
…
The Slayer had come to her.
Mamna received him inside her home, far more worried that demons or Godseekers might see them together than whether or not they were overheard by her servants.
She needed the spawn. Her amulet had not yet failed completely only because it had not been truly tested. When the Demon Lord decided to attack Freetown, the people would soon see the full extent of their vulnerability.
And hers.
She worked to control an anticipation born out of rising desperation. It was possible the spawn did not have any immortal abilities. Perhaps being born on a mortal world precluded them. Or the immortality of one parent canceled the other’s.
Either way, Mamna would soon possess something the Demon Lord wanted. That would be its own reward.
Hunter entered her front parlor, stooping his head slightly to avoid the crystal chandelier affixed to the ceiling in the center of the room. He wore no hat, his sun-bleached hair and tanned skin appearing clean and polished. Her eyes narrowed. He seemed different. More at ease. Less like the coiled snake she normally dealt with.
He tossed a familiar drawstring bag onto a polished mahogany sideboard. “I wasn’t successful. I’ve come to return your money.”
Although his decision was not unexpected, Mamna nevertheless felt anger and tension supersede her anticipation. The spawn was her final hope. The Slayer would not take that from her.
Without another word of explanation, or begging her permission, he turned to leave.
“Wait.”
He paused, the eyebrow he raised in polite inquiry infuriating her. She had paid him well. How dare he stand in her presence and pretend not to have the very thing she wanted?
She choked back her anger. “What happened on the mountain?”
His eyes became glittering, blue chips of ice, cold and difficult to read. “I never reached it. I was a few hours away when the summit collapsed. I met a number of people fleeing for their lives, but none of them was a woman fitting the description you gave me. I assume she died in one of the landslides. Those were especially spectacular, even at a distance.”
“You’re lying.”
His expression hardened. “Careful what you say to me, little priestess. I’ve returned your money. I owe you nothing.”
She was not afraid of him, although she knew many who were. Or should be. “The spawn was seen with you.”
“By whom?” the Slayer asked, as if the answer was of little significance to him. “A poorly skilled assassin named Runner who pretends to be a Godseeker? A demon who slaughtered a small wagon train of innocent people in one of the arroyos? Perhaps another one of your reliable witnesses who tells you whatever you want to hear?” He retrieved the bag of coins, opened it, and withdrew five gold pieces. “On second thought, I deserve some compensation.” He slipped the gold pieces into his pocket and returned the bag to the sideboard. “Call me if you ever have legitimate work. Otherwise, I suggest you rely on your other resources.”
She should applaud his performance. This was why he was the best. The man had no fear. But someone had called the goddesses’ rain. A half demon could not do it.
A half goddess might.
“So you know nothing of a woman who set a man’s boots on fire?” she asked.
“No. Although I know of several women who possess matches.”
There were no tells in his body language. He stood at ease, his hands loose at his sides, giving nothing away.
He had the spawn. She had until nightfall to claim it. Certainty galvanized her into recklessness.
She laughed quietly. “Now I know what is different about you. You’ve slept with her.” It was a stab in the dark, but a very slight dilation of his pupils gave him away. If she had not been watching for it she might have missed it. The unwelcome discovery enraged her more. “You foolish, mortal man. You have no idea what you have done.”
He shrugged, neither confirming nor denying it.
“Did you know that the Demon Lord made me an offer for her as well?” he asked. “Last night, when I helped those wagoners fight off the demons you’d abandoned them to?” He pretended to think. “Let’s say I do have her hidden somewhere. Why would I want to turn her over to either one of you? Why wouldn’t I want to keep something so valuable for myself?” His cold eyes pierced her. The temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees, and Mamna almost shivered. “Good luck in your battle with the demons, little priestess. I can live with my choices. I suspect you are the one who has no idea what she’s done.”
A haze of red rage colored her vision even as fear eviscerated her. She no longer dared to summon demons, not that it would matter if she did. He was the Demon Slayer and none could defeat him.
She had to persuade him. Otherwise, he would walk out the door and everything she had worked for would be gone.
“The spawn is the key to ridding the world of demons,” she said, the truth drawn from her with great reluctance.
“Then why would you want to turn her over to them?” He waved a hand around the room. “You’ve made yourself queen of a small empire based on your relationship with demons. Once that relationship is gone, you have nothing. Why would you want to be rid of them now, after all these years?”
“I’m an old woman,” Mamna said. “I’m too tired for what is coming. My deformity shortens my life. Once I’m gone the demons will be able to do as they like.” She met his emotionless eyes with an equally flat look of her own. “And they like to kill mortal men.”
She could see his mind working, thinking over what she had said, sifting the truth from the lies.
“There have been hundreds of spawn. Many more than this one could have survived. Why her in particular?”
“Her conception was arranged by the goddesses to trap the demons inside of time because they believed age would eventually defeat them. Instead, the Demon Lord used its birth to draw demon fire to the mountain. The fire was meant to destroy the spawn as well. He had no way of knowing that a priestess would save its life.”
She did not tell him the whole truth. While the goddesses had planned to trap the demons, they had not anticipated the birth of any child. And Mamna had been the one to suspect, correctly, as it turned out, that the Demon Lord’s unborn spawn might be enough to draw his fire to the mountain. It was she who had intended for the spawn to be destroyed in it. The Demon Lord was never to have known of its existence.
She had not counted on the laboring goddess calling rain to save its life.
A muscle worked in the Slayer’s jaw. “And now that the Demon Lord thinks she’s alive, he wants her dead. How fortunate for you both that she died in the mountain’s collapse. You can give him the happy news.”
She drew a gun from beneath the cushions of her chair and aimed it at his chest. “I want the spawn.”
He spread his arms wide. “Shoot me,” he invited. Steel glittered in his eyes. “Then you can explain to people how you killed the Demon Slayer on the eve of a demon attack, when you admit you are too tired to protect them. Demons will be the least of your worries.”
Her finger trembled on the trigger. “I could kill you
and take your amulet.”
He drew it over his head and held it out to her. “Go ahead, then. I’ll even give it to you, and you can fight demons on the city’s behalf. Guard your back against the Godseekers, however. They seem to want one of their own to fight at the head of their army.”
She wanted to kill him but did not dare, not with the Demon Lord in his current rage. Without the Slayer she, too, would be vulnerable.
“I could take the amulet from you and give it to the Godseekers,” she said.
“You’d give power to people who continue to worship the goddesses?” He slipped the amulet back over his head. “I don’t believe you would do that.”
She had lost. He would not help her.
Fear of the immortals, and the threat of impending ruin, weakened her hold on the gun, and she dropped it to her lap so he would not see the shake in her hand.
“The spawn has two birthrights,” she spat at him. “Aren’t you the slightest bit interested in the other?”
“Not in the least.” He spun and headed across the tiled floor to the door.
“Her mother was a goddess,” Mamna shouted after him, no longer caring who might overhear, “who whored herself to a demon. And in the end, she betrayed all of the immortals. Enjoy your spawn while you can, Slayer. Being a whore will come naturally to her. So will betrayal. What makes you think she would be loyal to you?”
“If she is part goddess,” Hunter said, his hand on the door latch, “that would make you her servant, would it not?”
The door closed behind him, leaving Mamna shaking with fear and anger and having no firm plan for the coming night. Scouring the city for the spawn, then convincing it to do as she wished, would take time that no longer existed. She did not doubt that after tonight, despite the presence of the Demon Slayer, Freetown and the majority of its inhabitants would be lost.
Why should she die with them?
Perhaps it was time for her to make her way to the Borderlands where the demon presence was not so strong. She pressed a hand to the cracked amulet beneath her clothing. It might get her across the desert if the demons remained distracted.
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