Flames shot from Raven’s eyes and rippled beneath her golden skin. She turned her head slightly in his direction, as if sensing his presence, and at once, the full brunt of her allure transferred to him. He had not been prepared for the extent of it, and it took him a few seconds to recover, but he shook it off as fast as he could because it indicated to him how very distressed she was.
Despite Blade’s worry for her, and Laurel’s motionless form, the demon remained his highest priority. He pushed his emotions aside and focused on the practical. Raven was all that held it in mortal form. It could not be allowed to gain freedom.
Walker materialized not far from him. He raised the rifle and would have fired on Justice if Blade had not dived for him, grabbed his arm, and wrenched the weapon from his hands.
“Self-defense only,” Blade reminded him. “Don’t make an enemy of the Godseekers and their assassins. You have to think of your future, not just this moment. Raven protects Laurel better than we can right now. We need to make certain no harm comes to her, because if that demon escapes her, we’re all dead.” He set the weapon aside, propping it against the wall of the house. “You have to trust that I’ll do my best for both of them,” he added. “Can you do that?”
Slowly, and with grudging reluctance, Walker nodded.
“Good.” Blade clapped him on the shoulder and turned his attention back to the demon.
From the corner of his eye, Blade saw the black-haired demon woman begin backing away, then turn to run. He had no choice but to let her go and hope that Creed and the assassins in the surrounding area would somehow intercept her. If she had any skills that might regain control of the demon she’d raised, she did not appear inclined to use them to help Justice.
The assassin stood back to watch Raven and the demon she held, and also Justice. He had noticed that things were not right, Blade thought, and was considering everything, which was good. Whatever Justice had told him, he no longer believed it. But he still remained a threat to Raven and Laurel.
“I want you to shift to shadow and work your way around to the tall one with the knives,” Blade said to Walker. “When I give you a signal, I want you to stop him. I don’t want you to kill him. Just hold him. That’s important,” he added. “You can’t kill either of these men. If you do, you’ll be hunted like an animal and treated worse than one if you’re caught. You’ll be made an example. Do you understand me?”
Walker nodded again.
Since Blade could not see him once he shifted to shadow, he gave Walker to the count of fifty to move into position behind the assassin. Then Blade came at the scorched circle of earth perpendicular to where Walker should be, his knives flying from his hands with precision. The freckled assassin staggered but remained on his feet, wounded but not grievously so, and Blade ducked to the side, barely in time to avoid the answering knife flung past his own face. A second followed it to graze his arm, tearing his coat sleeve. He had no idea if it hit flesh or not. Too much adrenaline coursed through him to feel it if it had.
Walker took solid form from the shadows behind the assassin. One arm went around the freckled man’s throat while his free hand pressed a knife to it.
Blade ran into the blackened circle. He saw the strain on Raven’s face and the fire that burned out of control in the depths of her blazing eyes. The heat generating from her pores made it impossible for him to approach her. She had almost destroyed herself trying to contain it once before. She had released it only when she believed it posed a danger to him.
He had to get closer so she could see the potential for harm and remember how she had fought it.
Laurel moved then, and struggled to her feet, but she was unable to remain fully upright. She had one hand pressed to the hilt of a knife protruding from her abdomen, and blood seeped from between her fingers. From years of experience, Blade knew it unlikely she would survive the wound.
Justice toed the edge of the circle but did not enter it.
“You’re an assassin, in lifetime service to the goddesses,” he said to Blade. He pointed to Raven, then the demon. “She’s raised it. You have a duty to kill them both.”
His words were not intended for him, Blade knew. The Godseeker wanted the assassin with him to understand that Blade’s vows had been broken, and it was not the goddesses he now served.
But Blade had never made such a vow. He served only his conscience.
“She has not raised a demon!” Laurel cried out, her eyes fierce on Blade despite the pain she had to be suffering. She tried to position herself between him and Raven, as if to protect her.
The action pierced him. Even as injured as Laurel was, she felt the need to defend Raven from him. Did she truly believe he was that cold and cruel? That he could harm her?
He had always prided himself on being a man of his word because it was all the honor he could guarantee, even if only to himself. He did not give it lightly, or often. He would die before ever allowing anything to happen to Raven. To live knowing he’d failed her was impossible.
Raven had not taken her eyes from Justice, and Blade had no doubt that if an opportunity presented itself, she would kill him. He could not allow her to do it this way, when her demon was so out of control and dominant. Even she did not want that. Yet he could not get close enough to her to help dampen the flames either.
Laurel, however, was already too close, and in grave danger both from the flames and of bleeding to death. He could think of only one way to resolve this situation, and it was not an option he wanted to use. While he did not care for his own sake, killing Justice would bring trouble on them all.
Then he saw in Raven’s fiery eyes that she had come to a conclusion of her own, and it was one he wanted even less. His heart tripled its beats.
Because she planned to summon her father.
Chapter Twenty
Creed got as close to the Godseeker as he dared before revealing himself. Seeker crouched on his heels beneath a crooked juniper, a rifle across his knees, as vigilant as he could be considering the circumstances. One assassin was with him, a man named Griffin who Creed knew well. The remaining assassins had fanned out but remained within easy shouting range. He knew them, too. More importantly, they knew Creed—and that he had left the Temple after taking orders from Siege.
Creed stepped from the trees with his hands in the air. A twig snapped beneath one of his boots, and the barrel of Seeker’s rifle swung in his direction.
“Who’s there?” Seeker demanded, peering into the darkness.
“Creed,” he replied. “Griffin knows me. I was sent by Siege to find one of the women in the village you’re watching.” He moved a little closer, but with caution. “We need to talk. Things aren’t right here. Justice—”
He heard a rustling in the bushes before the other two men did.
And then the night spit out a tiny demon.
It leaped straight for the assassin guarding the Godseeker, all long claws and razor-sharp teeth. Griffin shrieked as he went down beneath it, terrible sounds that sent shudders through Creed, who had thought he was immune to horror.
Seeker fired a shot with his rifle at point-blank range, but the bullet hit bone plating and ricocheted into the night. The demon crouched over Griffin’s body, blood dripping down its jowls. There was something not right about it, Creed could see. It was too small and oddly formed—almost childlike in appearance.
Creed moved between the demon and Seeker, prepared to protect the Godseeker.
The black-haired woman who had been with Justice came out of the darkness. As she approached, the demon shifted to mortal form, revealing a small, naked child—a little boy with a twisted and deformed body. His hair hung wild in long, dirty, matted clumps, but even in the dark, Creed could see the unnatural beauty of his face. It was plain that the child was feral. Creed’s heart twisted in horrified pity.
The woman stroked the boy’s head. “I warned Justice that I don’t travel alone,” she said to them. “He chose not to believe m
e, and now you might be a few assassins short. There are more where this one came from. Remember that if you try to follow us.” She looked at Creed. “Tell your friends you’re either with me or against me.” She smiled at Seeker. “Tell yours that your goddess has come and that you’re either with me or against me, too.”
The pair slipped away, leaving Creed speechless.
“You’re right,” Seeker said from behind him. He sounded as grim and horrified as Creed felt. “We do need to talk. But first, let’s go find the others.”
…
Blade could not stop Raven from summoning her father. Instead, he dug deep and drew on the piece of the boundary by the sea he had created for her from his imagination. It was not large, just a simple patch of beach that was big enough to encompass Raven, the demon she held, Laurel, and Justice. Blade had managed to exclude Walker and the assassin.
But it was enough. And barely in time.
Raven’s father appeared. In full demon form, he made the patch of beach seem even smaller. His attention was not on his daughter or the demon she held, but rather, the mortals around them. He sniffed the air, then looked at Laurel, his eyes drawn to the blood seeping from the knife wound to form a widening pool.
Behind Raven and the demon she continued to hold in its mortal form, the sea’s waves surged in uproar, spinning and crashing against the shoreline. The turmoil in this particular piece of boundary reflected his emotions, Blade realized with a jolt, because it came from inside him. He buried his feelings, and as they steadied, the waters calmed.
“Release the fire into the demon boundary,” Blade said to Raven.
The fire inside her died away as he had hoped it would. Awareness struck him, crystal clear and bright. Her greatest demon strength posed no danger to the mortal world, as he had once assumed it would before he came to know her so well. Her strength was in the way she used her demon to defend and protect those she loved.
Raven dropped to her knees beside the injured woman and took her hand. Even though she was no longer touching it, the demon could not yet shift back to demon form. The tiny piece of boundary that Blade had drawn on was too small for it to escape Raven’s allure. It turned on Blade.
Blade went for a knife, the smooth, practiced throw catching the demon in its heart. It went down, and he did not need to wait to see if it was dead but sprinted the short distance to Justice because Raven’s father was now advancing on him.
The Godseeker paled but stood his ground. Blade gave him grudging credit. Whatever else he might be, he was not a coward.
The demon spoke to Raven, his eyes flaring red with satisfaction and anticipation. “I’ll grant you one favor for bringing me this,” he said to her. “Anything you wish.”
If Raven accepted the favor, she would find herself more beholden to her father than ever. Blade had made her a promise. He seized Justice’s arm and positioned himself between him and the demon. In his current form, Raven’s father stood head and shoulders above him. Blade possessed no illusions that the demon had any more liking for him than it did for the Godseeker Blade now held in his grasp.
A chilling memory flashed through his thoughts of a long-ago day in the desert when he had been attacked by a demon, left with his leg torn apart and facing certain death. He buried the recollection quickly but not fast enough. The demon’s attention had been diverted from Justice to him. Cruelty shone from its blazing red eyes.
“Give me the mortal,” the demon said.
“If I do, you owe the favor you offered Raven to me, not her,” Blade said. “I want your word that if I give him to you, she owes you nothing. You won’t summon her ever again.”
Justice swung a fist at him. “Bastard traitor to the goddesses.”
Blade ducked the blow and twisted the Godseeker’s arm behind his back, then pressed a knife to his throat. The temptation to kill him for all he had done to Raven was great.
“Try to hit me again,” Blade said to him, “and I’ll draw blood. Then I’ll walk away from you. Do you understand me?”
“I understand that you serve a demon whore now, not the goddesses. You’ll be hanged for this. Or I’ll have you tested as a spawn so you can burn alive.”
Blade did not care about Justice’s opinion of who he served or any punishment he might threaten. He wanted Raven to be free of this man and of the demon, too.
The demon rolled its head back and forth, shrugging meaty shoulders beneath heavy bone plating and thick red skin. Its gaze narrowed on Blade. “For that price, I want more from you. I want the amulet you wear.”
Every instinct in Blade warned that he should not agree. If he gave up the amulet, he gave up his ability to hold this boundary in place. His safety inside it would no longer be guaranteed.
“Ask what he wants with the amulet,” Justice said to Blade. “He gave it to his whore. Why would he want it back now that she’s dead? Sentimentality?” The last word dripped with scorn.
No, Blade did not believe the demon was sentimental about the amulet. With regard to Raven’s mother, however, he did not doubt there was an attachment—Blade felt the same for Raven. And sentimentality was the real reason he did not wish to give the amulet up now, and without question why Raven’s mother had kept it until Justice had taken it from her.
There was more to the demon’s motives than that. Blade could practically taste it. But he would buy Raven’s safety and guarantee that she, at least, would be free. Not even fear of what the demon might do to him in this half-world boundary could deter him.
For Raven, he would risk everything.
“You would trust it?” Justice asked. Incredulity slackened his face. “A demon?”
“As much as I would anyone,” Blade replied. He released his hold on Justice and met the demon’s eyes. He snapped the amulet from the chain around his neck and held it out in his hand.
The demon’s clawed fist curled around the amulet. “She’s far more demon than you wish to believe, mortal. Blood will tell.”
And he crushed it into dust.
The boundary vanished, returning them to the dusk of the mortal world where there was no roar of the sea, only the groan of the wind through the mountains and trees.
Blade had not expected this move. Neither, however, had the demon anticipated the next one from him.
Blade had learned a few things from the Demon Slayer. Hunter had once saved his life, and they had fought demons together in an attack against Freetown. As a result, Blade knew that a demon’s greatest areas of vulnerability were between the bone plating of its natural armor. Blade withdrew a knife from the sleeve of his coat and drove it up and under the gap in the plating beneath the demon’s outstretched arm. Without hesitating, he pulled another knife from a second hidden sheath and drove it into the base of the demon’s throat, slashing sideways until he hit its protective plating, and the knife’s shaft snapped from the metal. Blood spewed, droplets spattering his face, hot and wet.
He turned away, needing no confirmation that he had made a kill and not wanting Justice to have time to escape.
But the Godseeker had not made an attempt at one. He’d grabbed the rifle Blade had left propped against the side of the house.
Blade assessed the situation in a glance.
Raven was on her knees beside Laurel, her hand on the knife buried in her stomach. And Justice had the rifle pointed at Raven’s head.
“I need you to pull the knife out of me. I don’t have the strength,” Laurel gasped.
Raven shook her head. “If I do it might kill you.”
“I’ll die for certain if you don’t.” Laurel’s skin was icy and pale. She had lost a great deal of blood. It seeped through her heavy layer of clothing and spilled around her in a black puddle. “It prevents me from slipping to shadow because it’s inside of me.”
“Will becoming a shadow heal you?” Raven asked. The smell of blood stirred her demon and made her ill. She could tell that Laurel was not sure but hoped it was true, and believed the possibil
ity existed.
That was enough for Raven. She did not want Laurel to die, which was the only alternative. She gripped the knife’s hilt, slick with congealing blood, and drew it from Laurel with a wet, popping sound that made her stomach clench in sympathetic rebellion. Laurel moaned, then quickly shifted to shadow.
Raven heard Blade shouting. “Get down!”
She did not look around to see who he was warning. The unfamiliar edge of alarm in his voice was enough to make her react. She dropped to the ground and buried her face in her arms. She felt a hum in the air above her head, followed almost instantly by the crack of a rifle.
She lifted her head to see what danger remained. Night colored the world in grays and blacks. Walker maintained his hold on the freckled assassin, but had developed a frantic look to him that warned her he was close to breaking. Blade was already in motion and headed for Justice.
Justice held the rifle, but instead of attempting another shot at Raven, he seized the barrel in both hands. He swung the stock like a club in a blow that Blade could not avoid. It connected with Blade’s temple, and he went to his hands and knees, dazed but not unconscious.
Walker made an involuntary move to go to Blade’s aid, thus losing his hold on the assassin. The assassin slipped free and would have turned on him, except for the arrival of Creed and several more people from out of the darkness.
“Stand down,” one of the newcomers said to the assassin. He was balding and stout and spoke with such an air of authority that the assassin obeyed him at once.
Raven’s demon, however, already agitated, went wild when it saw Blade fall and not get up again.
From head to toe, Raven burst into flame.
Blade shook his head. It was rare for someone to catch him off guard like that.
As he returned to full consciousness, his one clear thought was of Raven. He was aware of the others around him, heard Creed shouting his name from somewhere nearby and with increasing urgency. And he saw the brilliant blue sheet of flame that emanated from where Raven had been sprawled on the ground.
Black Widow Demon (Demon Outlaws) Page 27