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The Demon Creed (A Demon Outlaws Novel) (Entangled Edge)

Page 23

by Paula Altenburg


  The town was busy during the day but it would quiet around sunset. Mortals feared the dark, because that was when demons had once terrorized the world. Only murderers and thieves would be about, and it was unlikely even they would stray far from the town walls. An attack after the sun went down would create chaos and confusion, and the Godseeker assassin would be bound by duty to investigate. He would not bring the mortal woman into danger with him. Neither would he leave her behind unprotected, which meant someone would need to remain with her.

  Since the assassin had gone straight to the Demon Slayer for help, and they had ridden off together, Willow thought it likely that the Slayer would also be convinced to help defend his home town. He had come to the defense of Freetown when the demons had tried to burn it to the ground.

  Willow counted on the women being left to fend for themselves in a place that would seem to be safest.

  She had left the children at an encampment a mile down the trail, in the opposite direction from the Demon Slayer and his companions. Larch, whose pregnancy was more advanced now, had forced them to move at an increasingly slow pace that chafed at first, but had given the children time to develop their talents and for Willow to study their weaknesses.

  Imp and Larch were both too gentle. While Imp would go missing at the first sign of trouble, Larch with her blossoming motherly instincts could be trusted to look out for the younger ones.

  Stone’s erratic behavior had become both aggressive and myopic. All he could think of was fighting the assassin again. He could not conceive of a future beyond that. While he would not have been Willow’s first choice, she planned to place him in charge of the attack on the town.

  Thistle had developed a liking for compelling others into committing deeds that generated havoc and fear. She had little success against the other children anymore, because as soon as they’d understood what she was doing their demons deflected her compulsion away from them. She needed a new outlet for her aggression. Willow would place her with Larch. Thistle could then use compulsion to keep the mortals occupied while Stone fought the assassin. At the same time, she could help Larch protect the children.

  The older boys were typical teenagers. They liked to destroy things, and she knew just what they should target. Willow had always found that smashing a temple built to honor the goddesses caused the greatest outrage among mortals. It never failed to astonish her because from what she could recall of them before their departure, they had been self-centered, pleasure-seeking whores. No different from demons.

  Once the boys began their desecration of the temple, she would set the town’s walls ablaze with demon fire. And after she made certain the women were alone, she would pay them a visit.

  That meant she needed a demon to help her.

  It had been several months. She had no idea how cooperative the demon would be, or even if he was the one who would respond. But if she were going to summon him, or any demon, she had to do it now, before darkness fell and it gained greater strength.

  She scorched a wide area of earth using short spurts of fire so that the circle she made would not spread to the surrounding miles of rippling grasslands.

  She crafted the circle. Then, full of caution, she reached into the boundary.

  He came at once.

  “Well, well.” His arms banded across his bare chest. The cold of his eyes seared her skin, but not so much as the thin smile pressed on his lips. “I never thought to hear from you again. I’ve missed you.”

  “I had nothing for you until now.”

  “You had the woman I asked for.”

  “Who was taken from me again by a half demon who was stronger than I expected,” Willow said.

  “I could have helped you keep her.”

  He would have taken her and left, and Willow would have had an angry, half demon assassin to deal with, as well as an unfulfilled promise she could never claim.

  Willow played with the fire in her hands, sparking the flames back and forth between her fingertips. She did not want to use up too much of her strength. As it was, when she summoned him again later that evening, she would not have the control over him that she should.

  “I have something for you now.” She snapped her hand shut. “I have the boy’s name.”

  …

  The Borderlands were nothing at all like the mountains Creed and Nieve had left far behind them.

  The road to Hunter’s homestead was little more than twin, well-worn wagon ruts that cut through miles of grassland. The ruts veered off at various points to lead to other ranches along the route. To one side, Creed saw dark, humped masses that indicated scattered kyson herds grazing.

  Back in the Old World days, this land had been heavily settled. Those original cities had been some of the first to be destroyed by the arrival of demons. Now this vast, rich-soiled land was filled with emptiness.

  And also opportunity, Creed thought, looking around him at all the potential. For the right type of man.

  But it would burn just as easily today, if not more so, because of the endless miles of fertile grasslands.

  As they rode, Creed told Hunter as much as he knew of Willow, and who she had with her, which was little enough.

  “Her companions are young but dangerous, and will do as she says. She seems to be gathering children who’ve been abandoned by parents and families who fear them, and is raising them to be demons,” he finished.

  “Not demons,” Nieve spoke up from behind him. Her hands bunched in the waist of his shirt. “That little girl at the tea shop thinks of Willow as her mother. Don’t you see what she’s doing? She’s teaching them to prepare for the future, and how to survive, just as you say your sister Raven and her companion are teaching others.”

  Hunter looked at Creed, his eyebrows raised in an unspoken query, as if seeking confirmation of Nieve’s assessment.

  “It’s no doubt true,” Creed agreed, although he could hardly imagine a less motherly woman than Willow. Since his own had not been overwhelmingly maternal, he was not in the best position to judge. Nieve’s opinion was as good as any, and most likely better than his. “There’s one more thing.”

  “There always is.” Hunter sighed as if he knew what was coming.

  “Willow is following us. She has no compassion for anyone weaker than she is. She’ll burn Cottonwood Fall to the ground. She’ll kill everyone in it. And she’ll want the Godseekers to know that she defeated the Demon Slayer.”

  He watched Hunter work it all out in his head. He slouched in his saddle, allowing the sand swift to make its own way. Its tongue flicked out to curl around a small gray bird hidden in the grass at the side of the trail.

  “I don’t want Airie to know these are children we’ll be fighting. Not while she’s got two of her own to think about. She has enough to worry over as it is,” Hunter said.

  Creed wondered if he truly understood the complexity of the situation. The dangers. These were not normal children. “I was hoping she could help.”

  “She’s due any day now. How do you propose she fight demons?” Hunter asked. “I have to help put her shoes on.”

  “She has no demon talents to protect her?”

  “She has plenty. None of them change the fact that she’s nine months pregnant. With my baby,” Hunter added. “She’s not to be involved.”

  “I guess it’s up to you and me, then,” Creed said. “I hope your demon slaying abilities haven’t gotten too rusty.” He regretted the words as soon as he uttered them. Nieve’s fingers tightened when he made reference to slaying, and she sat a bit straighter in the saddle as if attempting to put distance between them.

  Hunter was quiet for a few moments more. “These aren’t demons,” he said. “I don’t respond to sp…half demons in quite the same way.” He looked at Nieve, although his words were addressed to Creed. “I didn’t react when she began shooting fire back in town.”

  “She’s not half demon,” Creed told him for the second time. He hesitated. He could not get
past the strangeness of openly discussing something he had spent so many years denying. “The fire comes from me.”

  A large gate was in sight now, straight ahead of them, looming over the horizon. Beyond the gate could be seen a scattering of tidy buildings, and an enormous wooden-railed paddock that held a few head of restless young hross. A tiny figure sat on the top railing, watching their approach.

  “I see.” Hunter shifted the reins from one hand to the other, thinking. “What other talents do you have?”

  “I’m friendly,” Creed said. “Everyone likes me.”

  “I’d rather they feared you. Anything else?”

  “I can shift to full demon form.”

  “That talent I can use.” Hunter eyed him. “And you can manipulate demon fire. That should come in handy, too.”

  “No,” Creed said. “Fire is Nieve’s protection, not mine. She claims it through me.”

  “Then we’ve got a problem,” Hunter said. “Our only defenses are mortal weapons and I don’t—”

  He interrupted his own words, nudging the sand swift to pick up speed as the small figure on the railing made a dangerous leap to the ground.

  The tiny figure—a young boy, Creed could see—stumbled over his feet, righted himself, and came hurtling up the trail toward them with his little legs churning and his arms pumping hard.

  Behind Creed, Nieve sucked in a sharp breath. She would have thrown herself off the hross if Creed hadn’t caught her arm and lowered her, with greater caution, from the saddle to the ground. As soon as her feet touched the dirt she, too, began to run.

  Creed could not imagine what had possessed her. Then, with a heavy weight compressing his ribs, he noted the boy’s blond head and his age, and feared that Nieve had made a false assumption. It was only natural that she would see her son’s face in every boy who was the right age and coloring. Confusion and disappointment were bound to occur. He couldn’t protect her from emotions.

  “I’m sorry,” Creed began, beginning to explain her behavior to Hunter, “but Nieve lost her son and I’m afraid—”

  His voice trailed off. Something was wrong. Hunter’s expression had gone grim. Nieve was in tears. The boy had his arms tight around her neck, and was not fighting off the kisses she showered on his beaming face.

  Nieve had made no mistake. She knew who this boy she held was. It was equally plain that he recognized her, too.

  A woman had come to the door of the log house to stand on the long verandah running its width. She was tall, with long black hair that fell to her hips, and with the exception of Nieve, was without a doubt the most beautiful woman Creed had ever seen. She was also heavily pregnant.

  This had to be Airie. He had always thought of her in terms of her demon blood. That she was half goddess, too, was equally obvious. Kindness radiated from her.

  At the moment, so did concern. She surveyed the scene in the yard. She saw Hunter and Creed. She saw Nieve on her knees in the dirt with the little boy in her arms. She turned to Hunter with a hint of panic in her eyes.

  “What’s going on?” Airie asked.

  But she knew. Creed could see it in the way the panic spread to her face, and how her hands fluttered to her breast.

  Hunter slid from the sand swift’s back, one hand on its reins to keep it under control as it reacted to the woman’s distress.

  “I think we all need to talk,” he said.

  Creed, too, dismounted. He started for Nieve, reaching out to place a hand on her shoulder and get her attention.

  Nieve, however, flinched away from his touch. She swung the child out of his range, placing her body between them, as if she thought Creed intended to harm him in some way. Fear flared in her eyes when she looked up at Creed, then a fierce, angry, determined protectiveness. “Stay away from him!”

  Along the connection between them, already tenuous and strained for weeks now, Creed felt a searing pain.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Somehow, Creed set the hurt aside. They had more important matters to settle than Nieve’s rejection of him.

  The boy broke and ran.

  Nieve would have pursued him if Creed had not caught hold of her wrist to stop her. She lashed out, a small fist pummeling him with all her strength as she fought to free herself.

  The threat of tears he saw in her eyes, and the fear that her son was being taken from her again, were the fists that struck him the hardest. His chest ached to think that she did not trust him.

  Creed swallowed hard and refused to release her. He could hardly unleash this mad, desperate woman on a confused child. She’d not get the reaction from her son she was hoping for. He’d let her wear herself out before he tried to reason with her, although he doubted if anything would make her listen right now. She had found her son. She was not about to let him go again without a fight, and it was Creed she chose to vent her frustrations on.

  When she finally showed signs of tiring, he drew her to him and held her. By now, the boy had disappeared into the barn.

  “Let him go,” Creed said into her ear. “Give him some space. He’ll be back when he’s ready. Until then we have a lot of things to discuss.”

  Hunter had an arm around his wife, but it was Nieve he addressed. “Creed is right. Scratch is fine. He won’t go very far.”

  “His name is Asher.”

  Nieve’s chest heaved as she renewed her efforts to gain her freedom, pushing at Creed’s arms in an attempt to break his hold, but he did not relent. Neither did he try to calm her distress, but allowed her to come to terms with her emotions on her own. She had waited a long time for this moment. She’d begun to believe it might never come.

  He was not above using her love for her son against her.

  “Stop thinking of yourself and what you want, and have some regard for what he must be going through right now,” Creed said. “He hasn’t seen you in over a year. He barely knows you. Let him come to you when he’s ready.”

  “Bastard,” Nieve whispered. But she stopped struggling and leaned against him, pressing her cheek to his chest, closing her eyes as if drained. He tightened his hold on her, wishing there was more he could do, but it was too soon to make her promises he might not be able to keep.

  Airie had remained silent throughout. She looked anxious now, and tired, and Creed knew that upsetting her was no way to win Hunter’s support, but far worse was coming. Willow would not be too far behind them.

  Hunter rested a hand on his wife’s swollen belly as if to reassure himself that both she and the baby were safe. “Let’s go inside.”

  The log house was well-constructed and spoke of generations of hard work and affluence. The Demon Slayer’s family had not been idle in the centuries since the demon occupation began.

  They gathered at the long kitchen table. Hunter pulled back a chair next to the window for Nieve so that she could watch the barn for signs of her son, a thoughtful gesture that Creed silently thanked him for and that Hunter acknowledged with a brief nod.

  In return, as Creed took a seat beside Nieve, he allowed Hunter to tell Airie what he wanted her to know of the events that had transpired in town without interruption. It did not include any stories of children.

  As it turned out, he did not need to tell her. She’d already heard the rumors. And she’d drawn her own conclusions.

  “There won’t be as many mixed blood demons as you think,” Airie said to Creed. Of the four of them, they were the two people who knew exactly what it was they were facing. What their instincts would be. “If the mother is part demon, the demon in her won’t willingly tolerate carrying a child of mixed blood to full term. The baby is unlikely to survive unless its demon side is stronger than hers.”

  Creed watched from the corner of his eye as Hunter turned that information over in his head. He saw when understanding hit him, and he cast his wife a sharp look.

  “You should have told me,” he said to her. “That’s what’s been keeping you awake at nights, isn’t it?”

&nb
sp; “Not at all,” she assured him. “Ours is a little more active than most babies, but she has two full immortals for protection. My parents will allow nothing to happen to her.”

  Hunter was not appeased. It was clear he did not like that his wife had kept something from him. Creed was about to step in, wanting the conversation focused back on the danger that was coming, but Nieve interrupted first.

  “A baby born to a mortal mother who survives the birth can’t possibly be a monster, can he?” She looked at Creed, and he felt the hope blossoming in her. “Your mother survived and you aren’t a monster,” she said to him. “Neither is your—” She caught herself before she said sister, and the stricken look on her face told him she had not intended to reveal any secrets.

  He smiled at her, and her fingers inched across the table to touch his before she placed both hands in her lap.

  Airie picked up on the affirmation Nieve was seeking and answered her with compassion. “Scratch—Asher,” she corrected herself, “—isn’t one, either. He’s sweet and gentle. But he’s still a little boy. His demon talents are already strong and they’re going to grow. Are you prepared to deal with that side of him? Are you certain you know what that means?” She looked to Creed for support.

  Because he did understand what it meant. His own mother had not been able to deal with the fact he was half demon, even though he knew in his heart that she had tried her best. But Nieve was different. She was a lot stronger than she seemed.

  “Nieve will do fine with him,” Creed said, but he did not smile at her again. He could not. He did not want to see surprise or gratitude in her eyes. She should have trusted him in this. He had never asked for anything from her but that.

  “What about you?” Airie asked him.

  Another knife twisted in Creed. Airie thought he was the boy’s father, and worried about what that also meant. Demons did not share well, particularly the affections of the women they chose.

  “The boy isn’t mine,” he replied. For that matter, neither was Nieve. He’d been mistaken. She had not claimed him. She had no room in her heart for anyone but her son. “The demon that Willow has been relying on must be his father. That’s the reason she’s following us. He’s helped her only because he wants Nieve back. Count on it.”

 

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