Ignoring the warning, Airie leaped to the ground to meet the first of those demons brave enough to approach her.
Hunter started forward to protect her, his expression murderous, but she would not have him facing more danger on her behalf. Stronger now, and becoming acquainted with the additional weight of the death she bore, she reconstructed the wall of fire around them.
Four demons, however, had gotten too close to her and were now trapped inside it. She slapped her palm to the bone-plated arm of the first one to reach her, and mixing her fire and rain together, drove them deep. Steam billowed beneath her touch. The demon shrieked in agony as it boiled from the inside out. She had to turn her face from the stink of cooking meat.
The demon fell to the ground, clouded eyes staring upward. The haze of death rose from its body to settle around Airie, coating her skin in a sickly light. In her head, she knew horror. This, she realized, sick at heart, was her first step toward immortality, although she had taken it in a direction she had never intended.
She did not want to be a demon. Neither did she want for Hunter to die.
She brought the flat of her hand against a second demon, sending another burst of fire and water into its flesh. More screams, and a second blue-green haze joined the first.
This death was stronger, and the weight of it sent Airie to her hands and knees again so that the wall of flame faltered, but she could not stop now.
She groped blindly for a leg and caught it above the ankle. The thick, clinging haze of this one’s death drove the others a little deeper into Airie.
Hunter fought the fourth demon.
Panic scalded her. She did not know if she could carry the weight of too many more, yet she had to find a way to drive them from the world so Hunter would have a chance to escape, and she could think of nothing other than to kill them.
Then her mother was at her side, draping Airie in golden goddess light, but even that could not displace the eerie glow of the ones already dead and clinging to her.
“Listen to me,” the goddess said, her voice cracking with unspent grief and a rising urgency. “You were meant to have a choice, and you hurt only yourself this way. You own your father’s death, and therefore his strength. That will be enough to protect you from demons if you choose them. Or you may send for the goddesses through me and take my place with my sisters. They will welcome you.” Her cheeks sparkled beneath golden tears. “But choose quickly, while you still can. They won’t wait for you. Now that the demons are freed from the boundaries of time, the goddesses will go back into hiding.”
Airie’s attention was divided. The demon Hunter fought was weakening. The desire to help him was strong, but he did not need it and would not thank her. She would be nothing but a distraction to him.
She turned her face away so she could not be tempted. They both needed the help of her mother if they were to survive this.
“And if I don’t make a choice?” Airie asked her. “What happens then?”
The goddess wiped the tears from her cheeks. “The number of deaths you own will decide the matter for you.”
Cold prickled her skin. That was why her mother had tried to stop her from fighting them.
Already, Airie felt the enormous surge of power that full demon immortality would bring her. It was heady, and difficult to resist, and she knew it would not be long before she could not. She tried to organize her thoughts, and examine her options so that she made a decision that was of benefit to others, and not herself. It had to be something her mother—her priestess mother—would have approved of. She had been loyal to her goddess, but also to her own mortality. And she had loved Airie more than either of them. She had not feared the demon in her, but always encouraged her to do what she believed was right.
If she chose to take her goddess mother’s place, the goddesses would flee the demons and she would go into hiding with the others. That was of harm to no one. If she chose to be demon, however, she could stay here with Hunter. He did not fear them either, and would never fear her.
But if she did that, it meant demons would retain a link to this world through her. Where there was one immortal there would be others.
That was true, too, of the goddesses, and neither goddess nor demon had ever been of true benefit to mortality. The world did not need them.
She could not decide.
“You say you are my servant,” she said to her mother, leaning close. “Yet you used me to get Hunter to agree to fight in my place when it wasn’t necessary for him to do so. It was not his challenge to accept.”
Fresh tears sparkled in her mother’s eyes. A shaking hand went to her lips. “Forgive me. I could not bear for the two people I love to harm each other.”
She had also said she was Airie’s to command—and something else. About a bond between them…
The words fit into their proper context with startling and painful clarity. “I own your death, too,” Airie said. “That’s the bond between us, and my other claim to immortality.”
The goddess did not deny it. “Because of that, he won’t fight you for his freedom if being a demon is the immortality you want. He won’t do anything more that might harm me or cause me pain.”
Airie reconsidered the choices she had been given. Choosing either immortality meant her parents would never be free again. She would own their deaths forever.
Pity stirred in her. If that was her price for immortality, she did not want it.
She found she could not remain angry over events that might someday bring peace to two tormented souls, not while Hunter still lived. In her heart, where her immortality spoke to her, she knew with absolute truth that he held the other half of her soul. She could search for all of eternity, from one end of the universe to the other, and never again find his equal.
The immortals alone did not determine her future, any more than they did their own.
“I have a third choice,” Airie said. “You once told me if I wanted a place in this world I would have to be welcomed to it. But even if someone does welcome me, I don’t want my place here to be as an immortal.”
“Even though you’ll live inside of time and be subject to its laws, you can never be truly mortal,” the goddess warned her. “Because of that, you cannot give up the deaths you now own. They will be with you throughout your lifetime. And you will not get to make another choice if this one is rejected—it will be made for you.” Her eyes were anxious. “Think carefully. The goddesses will accept you. So will the demons. Are you as certain of your welcome here in the mortal world?”
Airie thought she was, at least by one person. If not, the demon deaths she owned would guarantee the immortality thrust on her. She could feel it tugging at her already.
She hesitated. She did not want to be demon, but if that was to be her fate, she would never forget the teachings of her priestess mother. She controlled her own actions and owned responsibility for them.
But it was Hunter she truly wanted.
“Yes,” she said. “I will risk it. But no matter what happens to me, immortals will never be welcome here again.”
Their fingers touched, a brief clasp, her mother’s little more than a soft stirring of air against Airie’s skin.
Golden light laced with streaks of vivid blue-green shot through the cavern as her mother’s image was joined by the shadowy haze of another, larger one. While Airie might command her demon father’s death, and have his protection, it was the goddess he would forever follow. Perhaps his defeat was more of a kindness to them both than she’d understood. They did not have immortality. But this was not an end for them either.
Her throat tightened, and she looked away from them to find Hunter.
More blood had been spilled, she saw. He had won this fight, too, but he would not win many more. Agitated beyond reason now, on the other side of the wall, several dozen demons hurled themselves into the fire in an attempt to get at him. More had scaled the cavern’s walls to the cracked ceiling, thinking to break through at the top.
Yet Hunter, with one knee on the ground and breathing in deep, heaving gasps, his body battered and bloodied, his face dripping in sweat from the heat of the blaze around them, had eyes for no one but her. He pressed his hands to his thighs and pushed to a standing position.
Airie ran into his arms.
He cupped her face in his hands and scanned her anxiously from head to toe, then finally, satisfied she was unharmed, kissed her. He paid no attention to the shadowy forms of her father and mother standing close by, or the demons roaring for the Slayer’s blood.
“Surround yourself with fire,” Hunter said to her. “While I fight them off, I want you to run. When you get outside, call on goddess rain. That will protect you.” As long as she had water, she could survive in the desert for days. His mouth settled in grim resolve.
“If they want the Demon Slayer, they can die fighting him.”
…
Hunter did not know how she had killed the demons. It was enough for him that she could defend herself against them. But it tore at his heart to think she had been forced to do something she did not believe in because he had not been strong enough to protect her from it.
That did not mean he was sorry they were dead. If he could, he would kill them all. Since he could not, he would rid the world of as many as possible and die content knowing Airie, at least, was safe from them.
She met his eyes. Hers were brown again, he was thankful to note, warm, and filled with emotion.
But not the emotion he was seeking. His contentment turned to worry.
“I’m not running from them,” Airie said, standing straight as she curled her fingers to fists and took a step back. Her eyes flashed with fire. “From now on, they are running from me. Fire and rain alone won’t be enough to rid the world of them, but I know of something that is.”
Gold and blue-green light encased her. The wall of shimmering flame she held curled inward as it collapsed, then ran like fingers of fire along the ground. A roar came from the mouth of the cavern, building in intensity. At first, Hunter could not place the source. Then he recognized the pounding of heavy rain.
A wide stream of water gushed toward them, forcing demons into the air. Those who did not take to wing immediately found they did not have room to spread theirs out, and screamed in agony as the water washed through, ankle deep, to flood the floor of the cavern.
The fire met the rain, and the cavern filled with thick, scorching steam. Sweat streamed down Hunter’s face.
Scratch.
His heart pounded. He could scarcely believe he’d forgotten him. Airie did not know that he was here, and Hunter did not know how demon flames and goddess rain might affect him. He glanced around frantically, trying to find his hiding place, and shouted for him, hoping to be heard over the rain and fire and demon cries.
The child crawled from under the platform, near Hunter’s feet. Hunter snatched him up in his arms, turning his body in order to shield him from the spreading mist. While Hunter was mortal, and the mist did not appear to cause him any significant or lasting harm, he was not willing to take any risks with Scratch’s well-being.
It was the steaming mist, however, that drove the demons from the cavern. It penetrated every corner, every crack and crevice, making it impossible to escape its touch.
And outside, in the desert, they would find no protection from the rain unless they took to the skies above it.
Something hard pressed against Hunter’s chest, and Hunter looked down to see what it was. Scratch had what at first looked to be a rock in his hands. It was egg-shaped and rough, colored a drab shade of green similar to the areoles of cacti, with a pin at the top to lock its detonator. Hunter’s heart pounded harder. He could not believe the boy had not killed them all before now.
But he could think of a use for it. With the bomb cushioned against his chest, and Scratch in his arms, Hunter grabbed Airie by the hand and ran, following in the wake of the demons as they fled.
The rain continued to fall, but thankfully, had no effect on the child. It ran down Hunter’s face and soaked his tattered clothing. Blood trickled in thin rivulets from his chest and arms to drip to the ground in pale, watery splotches. He set Scratch on his feet and eased the bomb from his tiny fingers.
Hunter examined it. It fit the curve of his palm, and was heavier than he’d expected. The head of the pin was round, as if meant to fit a man’s finger. He wondered whether it was still live, and if so, how stable the detonator might be after all these years.
He did not want either Scratch or Airie near him when he pulled the pin.
“Stay right here,” he ordered the boy. He took hold of his chin and looked into his face to make sure he had his full attention. Rain clung to the boy’s lashes. “And I want to be able to see you. No hiding. No more touching things you find if you don’t know what they are. Do we understand each other?”
Scratch nodded, and Hunter ruffled his wet hair. “Sit down and cover your head until I tell you it’s safe to move.”
He jogged a short distance away, then closed his eyes and prayed as he yanked the pin.
Nothing happened.
He threw the bomb into the mouth of the cavern. Again, nothing happened. Less than ten seconds later however, the earth shook, knocking him to his knees.
The mouth of the cavern had crumpled. Then, as he watched, the cliffs above it collapsed inward. Streams of smoke intermingled with steam drifted up through fallen rock and rubble. Hunter wiped mud from his face, grimly satisfied.
That was for Airie’s priestess mother. The goddesses’ temple was gone. The Demon Lord’s hole was, as well.
Airie was searching the sky for signs of demons, but as near as he could tell, they were gone. Rain slid down her hair and off her cheeks, like teardrops that sparkled as they fell. Mud spattered her slim, bare feet.
Hunter checked on Scratch, who was sitting where he had been told to wait. Then he went to Airie, who had not yet released her hold on fire and rain. The steam billowed into the sky and rolled through the yucca trees, twisting around and under everything it touched, layering the desert in a thick, hot fog.
The flames in her eyes were gone, leaving them soft and beautiful, and shining with flecks of light. He read anxiety in them and reached for her, wanting to hold her tight and reassure her that all would be well, but he could not be certain of that yet.
He did know, however, how much he loved her. She had fought demons for him, and for the world. She would always do so, and it was best to accept it. They would fight them together.
She stepped away from him and would not let him touch her. His heart retracted into his throat.
“Time has run out for me,” she said to him. “I have to choose now.”
At first he didn’t know what she meant. Then he saw the entire situation with greater clarity, and a part of him died. She was an immortal, but she could be only demon or goddess, not both. There seemed little contest in that decision.
Or consolation, for that matter. Either way, he had lost her.
“I understand.” He swallowed hard. “No, I don’t.”
“There can be no place for me in this world. Not as an immortal.” The fire in her eyes disappeared, replaced now by gleaming tears of gold that made him ache for her.
Her place was with him, he wanted to say, but how could he want what was best for her, and yet ask her to give up immortality?
He would not cry, and he would not beg her to stay.
“I love you,” he said. “Immortal or not. I thought you should know that.” He cleared his throat, embarrassed by the emotions he could not hold back. He could not stop his next words either. “Please don’t make me live without you. But I’ll understand if you must.”
A smile lit her face, and hope flickered to life in his heart.
“What do you want?” she asked.
“You,” he replied without hesitation. “I want you.”
She was in his arms, hers tight around his neck, a sodden bund
le who kissed his rain-washed face over and over. “I want you, too,” she said. “I love you. Wherever you are, that’s where I belong.”
The sun peeked out through the rain. A rainbow, brilliant and multihued, arced across the desert from one end of the horizon to the other.
He hated himself for asking the next question. He would have hated himself more if he didn’t. “Will you have to give up immortality in order to stay?”
She took the back of his head in her fingers and drew his mouth to hers, then pressed her face into his neck. The golden sheen she had worn since their first lovemaking began to diminish, slowly fading away beneath the steady patter of rain.
“What good is immortality to me,” she said, the rapid flutter of her eyelashes caressing his skin, “when my heart remains mortal?”
Epilogue
It was three days before the heavy mists dissipated and the sun returned. By that time, everything in Freetown was sodden. Nothing had escaped its touch. It flowed under doors and through the tiniest of cracks.
On the fourth night, Hunter heard the sound of a door opening and closing a floor below him and was instantly awake.
It was nothing, just one of the saloon’s restless residents, because Airie still slept—she would have awakened otherwise—but the stealth in the movements he’d heard made Hunter uneasy.
She had said that the demons would not return, that the goddesses kept them away, but he had fought them too long to feel as certain of that as she was.
He slipped from the bed, careful not to awaken her. She rolled over in her sleep and flung her arm over his still warm pillow, pulling it close to her, and he smiled in the moonlight.
Blade was right. He was a lucky man. More so than he deserved.
He found his friend in the kitchen, filling a large pack with canned goods and utensils. He was dressed for travel.
Blade looked up when Hunter entered, his face shadowy in the glare of the single lantern hanging from the ceiling joist behind him. “Sorry if I woke you.”
Hunter sat down at the long wooden table and watched him as he continued to work. “Going somewhere? Without saying good-bye?”
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