Black Widow Demon (Demon Outlaws)

by Altenburg, Paula

  Raven came to stand beside him, placing a hand on the small of his back. “Tell me what’s wrong,” she said.

  “I know of several small mountain villages within a week’s walk of here. We’ll find one that’s abandoned and suitably secure, and we’ll spend the winter there.”

  Above them, a hawk tipped its wings and curled around in a circle, tracking some small animal on the ground not too far away. Blade lifted her pack and held it out so she could slip her arms through the straps.

  She did not move. “Should we try to find Roam, or Laurel and the others?”

  “No.” He was honest with himself. He resented—just a little—that he’d had to give up his dream. He did not have it in him to become involved in the problems of any more people. He should never have interfered in hers in the first place, but for her sake, not his.

  He took her wrist, gently because of the burns to her hand, and slid one of the straps up her arm to settle the pack into position between her shoulders. He turned her away from him so that he could secure it, and did not have to look at her face as he spoke. He did not want to see her disappointment in him.

  “They’re on their own.”

  …

  Siege, his trim figure clad head to toe in black, nocked an arrow, drew back on the taut bowstring, then raised and released it in a smooth, practiced movement. The arrowhead embedded into the center of the target from an impressive range.

  “What makes you believe the Godseeker assassins are defense enough against spawn that can lure men into demon fire to their deaths?” Siege asked Justice.

  Under his orders, Willow had been sequestered in one of the private rooms, away from the men. While the action relieved Justice in that it meant he did not have to keep as close an eye on her, it chafed that Siege had taken it upon himself to exert his authority in such a matter.

  They stood at the far end of the courtyard, in the temple’s shooting range, so they could hold this conversation in private. No one would approach them here. It was considered poor manners, as well as dangerous, to disturb an archer’s concentration.

  The sun continued to shine in an endless blue sky, and the days remained warm after the recent blizzard, but the air held the unmistakable promise of winter. Time was passing too quickly and with no signs of Raven.

  Justice splayed his booted feet and took care with his own aim, refusing to be bested by an old man. He did not rush, but drew the arrow steadily so that his thumb brushed his cheek before he sent it singing into the target. It struck to the left of Siege’s, but close enough to the center to be considered equal.

  He lowered his bow. The old man’s question was a fair one. “Surely you aren’t suggesting the goddesses’ defenders can’t resist a demon’s spawn?”

  “What I’m suggesting,” Siege said, his gaze both direct and stony, “is that they are men. If you found it difficult to resist your stepdaughter, and you were once a goddess’s favorite, then why would they be any different?”

  Justice ignored the jibe, although it rankled. “They know what she is and will be prepared. Willow says Raven tricked those villagers by pretending to be a goddess, and they had no reason not to believe her. They didn’t know that spawn can be female. None of us knew.” Justice reached into his quiver, selecting a second smooth shaft. “Now we do.”

  Siege nocked another arrow but held the point steady toward the ground and did not draw. He continued to examine Justice as if searching for fault in his logic. “Why should we accept the word of this Willow when she could be demon spawn, too?”

  Justice hid his impatience behind a careful scrutiny of the target. “You spoke with Willow. Did you find anything demon about her beyond a subtle allure—that you said yourself all women possess—which would warrant a testing by fire?”

  “No.” Siege frowned and sent his second arrow into the circle next to the first. Although the old man’s aim remained true, Justice noticed his hands had developed an unmistakable shake. “But she has an air about her I don’t like.”

  “She has no significant demon traits,” Justice said. “I assure you, Raven does. Willow is trying to warn us that Raven is building an army of demon spawn.”

  Siege continued to frown. “But there’s nowhere in the mountains for your stepdaughter to build such an army undetected. The number of spawn here can’t possibly be significant enough to use for such a purpose. It’s far more likely she’s already gone to the desert in search of others.”

  “She’s proven herself to be overly confident already by coming so close to the temple,” Justice said. “The desert is the first place she’d expect you to look for her, and that’s precisely where Creed went. What if she isn’t searching for others, but instead, is summoning them to her? Where would be the last place to look for them?”

  “The goddess boundary,” Siege said. “They wouldn’t be able to cross it, but the unconsecrated ground above it would make a good gathering place.”

  It would. While it had been many years since Justice had been to the boundary himself— and his memories were not fond ones—at some point in their youth, all Godseekers congregated there. It was considered a rite of passage, a baptism of sorts. A young Godseeker, freshly bathed, would strip off all clothing and enter the consecrated mist. If a goddess desired him, he would then be seduced and initiated by her—and gifted with an amulet to warn other immortals that he’d been claimed.

  Most of those men had been too young and ignorant to understand that the initiation led them into nothing more than slavery. Sometimes it was years before the goddesses tired of them and found other, younger replacements. Justice, however, had never been replaced. His goddess had been forced from the world by the Demon Lord’s fire while he was still young. That was when his devotion to her had begun a slow shift from passion to loathing and hate.

  He drew his arrow too hastily and it spun wide of its mark, tagging the edge of the target and knocking it askew. Angry with the poor shot, he clamped his fingers around the limb of his bow. He had to struggle to keep from cracking it over his knee but would not give Siege the satisfaction of seeing him lose his self-control.

  “The advantage is yours,” Justice said. “Best two out of three.”

  He adjusted the brace strapped around the heavy linen of his right sleeve and strode across the field to realign the round board. When he returned, he waited in silence until after Siege took his final shot, which was unerring.

  Justice had no hope now of winning this match and it irritated him to lose, but he intended to have the assassins he wanted. It was in his best interests to be gracious. He released his last arrow with more precision this time. It nestled amongst the others, not quite as close to the center as Siege’s third shot but respectable nonetheless.

  He congratulated the older man on his win. Then, he returned to the business under discussion. “I will need at least ten of your best men,” he said. “I don’t want to risk confronting her with less than that in the event she has found more of her kind.”

  Siege inspected the string on his bow. “We’ll wait a few more days before taking any action,” he said. “I sent a runner to request that Godseekers from two nearby villages come here to help determine the best way forward.”

  This would never do. In another day, Willow would not be able to hide the demon in her. Already, Siege had noticed she was not precisely what Justice had tried to portray her to be. But he did not dare argue the matter further. Siege was suspicious enough already and not inclined to do favors for Justice at the best of times.

  He had to come up with another plan. He wondered how true those rumors of Siege’s weakening heart might be.

  …

  That night, buttressed against a rock wall and sheltered from the wind, Raven helped Blade unroll their bedding beneath a blanket of stars. Wolven could be heard not too far off, signaling back and forth to each other through a series of yips and howls that rang off the cliffs. Blade had said he did not want to be enclosed inside a flimsy shelt
er.

  She sat next to him on a fallen log across from their small fire. He had one leg extended so that the sole of his boot faced the flames, steam curling from the damp leather. The other leg was bent, and he had one of his wrists resting on his knee. A skinned rabbit cooked on a spit between them, the smell making her conscious of how hungry she was.

  His thoughts were engaged elsewhere. She folded her legs beneath her to ward off the chill night draft and drew her coat tighter around her shoulders, playing idly with one of its buttons. She did not press him to talk, but allowed him to puzzle through whatever it was on his own. She, too, had thoughts that kept her occupied.

  She did not want him to regret staying the winter with her and would try to be as little trouble to him as possible. But that did not mean she intended to renege on her promise to the goddesses. Bad things were happening in the world, and while she might not be to blame for instigating them, to sit back and do nothing now, knowing the potential dangers some half demons posed, increased her culpability for them.

  And if he did not want to be involved in any of it, he would not. Come spring, if she could not change his mind, she would be forced to let him go. The possibility left her breathless and threw her demon into fits of rebellion.

  Blade spoke, breaking the silence.

  He hunched forward on the fallen log, his forearms on his thighs, hands loosely clasped between his knees. He tilted his head, his eyes meeting hers. He reached out and took one of her curls and rolled it between his thumb and forefinger, but he did not let his hand touch her face.

  “This amulet I’m wearing was your mother’s,” he said. “You should have it back.” He slipped it off and tried to pass it to her.

  She did not take it from him. Instead, she cupped his hand in both of hers and folded his fingers closed around it. Then she kissed the heel of his palm. “As long as you’re with me, you’re in danger from demons,” she said. “I want you to wear this and be safe.”

  He looked as if he had something more to say but changed his mind with a shake of his head. He stared at the amulet in his hand for a long time. Then, he replaced the chain around his neck.

  “I don’t think you understand the value of the gift,” he said.

  She did not want to think about that. “I don’t want anyone else to wear it. It’s yours now.”

  He leaned closer to press his lips to her forehead. “You have no idea how much I wish things were different for us.”

  She curled her fists in the front of his coat and drew him to her so that she could feather kisses along the length of his jaw, then his throat to his open collar where the amulet nestled.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  He did not move away, but watched her with a quiet hunger that caught her breath. “For what?”

  “For making me feel desirable and not something to be afraid of or repulsed by.” She kissed his lips, very gently. “No one else has ever made me feel that way. I wish things were different, too. If they were I would go after what I want, and I wouldn’t worry about what is best for either of us. Because what I want is you.”

  The craving in his eyes did not dissipate, but he turned back to the fire and their now-burning dinner.

  “You’re too quick to want,” he said. “The dangers are greater than you think.”

  She knew that physical danger from the outside world did not trouble him. It was the threat she posed to his peace of mind that had him draw away from her. He had learned to care for very little else in his life so that its loss would not matter so much.

  She might be too quick, but he was too cautious. Blade wanted to be with her. For some reason he would not explain, he refused to acknowledge it. He should seize what the present offered him because this was what shaped the future—the present. Not the past.

  To her, the future was filled with light, not darkness. And right now, in the present, they were together.

  …

  The sound of water crashing against a shore awoke Blade from a dream.

  No. He frowned. It was not a dream but a place. He could smell the air and feel the wind. The sky above was a deep, animated red, filtered through a gentle blue-green light that gave it a distinct purple cast. A vast and seemingly endless expanse of water stretched as far as he could see. White-capped waves crested, curled, and broke against a beach of aqua sand.

  Raven approached him, a greeting in her luminous blue eyes. A sheer, white gown bared the golden skin of her arms and throat and twisted around her hips and thighs as she moved, revealing far more than it hid. The odd lighting of the sky caught the coppery-red streaks in her black hair so that they flared like strips of heated metal.

  Possessiveness seized him.

  She stretched out her fingers to rest on his arm, her touch warm and real.

  “How did you manage this?” He swept a hand around them, torn between watching the beauty of her face and staring at the undulating sea.

  “I didn’t. This came from your thoughts, not mine.” She lifted his amulet and held it in her palm as she gazed up at him. “This is what my mother spoke of, why there was no fear in her when she did. It’s another tiny piece of the boundary. Only an immortal she welcomed could come here.”

  He had not known such thoughts dwelled in him. He had never seen the sea before but had read of it, a long time ago, and except for the boundary sky, this was indeed how he would envision it.

  And how he envisioned Raven—so beautiful, it made his chest ache with longing.

  But this place was induced by a demon’s amulet, therefore unnatural, and he did not trust it. He did not care that it picked so easily through his intimate thoughts. They had been pillaged enough for one day.

  He took her hand in one of his, the other hovering near a knife tucked in his trousers as he scanned the area around them, unable to believe there was no danger to either of them here. The mortal world held dangers too, but at least in a way he understood and could deal with.

  “This place is for demons,” he said.

  She stepped into the crook of his arm, drawing it around her so that she was pressed tight against him. The fresh, clean scent of her skin and hair filled his lungs and all he could think of was her.

  “Not all demons. Only those you wish to be here. For once,” she said, “can’t you allow yourself to indulge in what you desire without worrying about what might or might not happen if you do?”

  He could think of nothing he would like to do more, yet still, he hesitated.

  Her eyes softening, she stood on her toes and tipped her head to kiss the underside of his jaw. “We walk here together, Blade.”

  He no longer doubted that the amulet he wore was meant for him, that it was more than just a “trinket.” And that he belonged to her. It would not work for them in this way, as it had for her parents, otherwise. It had been crafted by a demon for the woman it claimed, and she had accepted it. Their daughter had given it to him. The possibility that Raven had not yet realized the implications of it was what filled him with a terror unlike anything he had ever known. She could do so much better than him. She did not have to be with him forever.

  But right now, she was.

  He slid his palms up the length of her arms, entranced by the feel of her smooth, warm skin, delicate and feminine. She trembled beneath his touch, her eyelids drooping so that sooty lashes brushed her cheeks. Her hands came to rest on his bare torso.

  He discovered he was naked. He hooked his fingers beneath the fabric of her dress and eased it off her shoulders so that it pooled on the sand at her dainty toes. He stroked a knuckle from her neck to the tip of one rosy-tipped breast, then followed its path with his mouth. He drew her nipple into his mouth, licking the taut crescent. With a soft cry of pleasure she took his head in her hands and buried her fingers in his hair, arching against him. He gathered her close, his hands on her bare hips, so her stomach stroked his erection. She took him in her fingers, sliding them gently up and down his sensitive shaft until he groaned o
ut loud with need. She pressed her lips to his chest, trailing kisses to his navel, then lower. She faltered, looked at him with a question in her eyes, and he cupped her chin in his palm.

  “Not if you don’t want to,” he said.

  She smiled at him, holding his gaze, and the tip of her pink tongue flitted out to touch him. His erection jerked in response.

  “I do,” she said, and ran her tongue the length of him. She licked the drop of fluid on his tip and closed her eyes as she drew him into her mouth.

  Blade held her head in his hands, trying hard to maintain control as she explored the taste and feel of him, until he could stand it no longer. He bent forward, nudging her gently so that she lay on her back in the warm sand while he rested on his palms above her.

  Her blue eyes were glowing, filled with that beautiful diamond fire. Her skin glistened in the light, and he dragged one palm over her breast, along her flat stomach, until he reached the soft mound of hair between her thighs. With one finger, he stroked the slickened flesh beneath it until she cried out for him, her back arching and her hands grasping eagerly at his hips, trying to draw him to her.

  He guided his erection to her opening, and with a single thrust, they were joined. Her hips rose and fell, urging him deeper and faster.

  “Please, Blade.”

  The expression of desire in her glowing eyes as she watched him move inside her brought him very close to the edge. He wanted to see her face when she came. Tiny ripples began, building in intensity as she tightened around him, making him shudder in anticipation. She wrapped her legs around his waist and cried out with pleasure, the spasms of her inner warmth impossible for him to resist. He groaned as he came with her.

  The sounds of the sea’s waves and their heavy breathing slowly eased into his awareness. Blade ran a finger along her ribs to her thigh, making her laugh and squirm beneath him, and he tried to recall if he had ever been as happy as he was when he was with her.

  She was right. He should enjoy these moments without worrying over what the future might bring. He nuzzled her hair aside and kissed the soft curve of her neck. Whether or not she chose to be his, he would always be hers. He would do his best to be worthy of her for as long as she needed him. And when she did not, he’d remember that even the goddesses believed he was unworthy of her and be man enough to walk away.