Razor's Edge

by Sherri L. King

  The man turned to her, regarding her for a long silent moment with his clear yellow eyes. “Please. Have a seat.” He motioned to a placement of heavily cushioned chairs behind her. They were situated before a great fireplace, which Emily only noticed after Tryton’s gesture.

  So the room wasn’t merely a huge cave as she may have thought, but an incredible anteroom, sporting all the fashions a rich feudal lord might have required. “Why have you brought me here?” she asked with great curiosity.

  “I wanted to meet you,” he replied simply.

  “Why not just come and knock on my door? It’s obvious you know quite a lot about me—I’m sure you could easily get my address. If not from Edge then from wherever else you get your information. Why all the fuss?”

  Tryton took a seat in the chair opposite her. He was so tall that even sitting, Emily had to tilt her head back to meet his eyes. He sighed before answering and it was a weary sound. Beyond weary. “I do not venture to the surface very often anymore. It has been many years since I left this place, actually. It is far easier for me to have you brought before me this way. I hope I haven’t given you a poor impression…?”

  “Well it’s more than obvious to me that you’re all a bunch of arrogant people. It only took me a couple of encounters with you guys to figure that out, but if it’s a poor impression, at least it’s a lasting one.” She smiled when she said it to soften the words, not truly intending to offend him.

  Tryton laughed. “It certainly doesn’t help that you’ve met two of our most arrogant warriors, either. But high-handed or not, we are honorable. No harm will come to you here.”

  “Thanks for the reassurance, but I can hold my own just fine—as you said.”

  “Yes. There is that. Then I shall get right to the point. Tell me, Emily. Why is it we’ve suddenly found you, a human, fighting these Daemons?”

  Emily frowned and asked one of her own questions instead. “You know they’re called Daemons? I thought it was just those college kids on that website who called them that because they thought Latin was so cool a language to borrow from.”

  “You mean the Voyeurs?” He smiled when Emily started. “I know about them of course, don’t look so surprised. But no—that website’s information is deliberately vague at times, as you’ll learn soon enough—it isn’t only because of the Latin that these beings are named thus. We call them Daemons, in part, because the name of their leader is Daemon. Ancient peoples of your world, when Latin was yet a young language, named this being Daemonio when he nearly broke the world, and the name has stuck over time.” His eyes clouded and Emily wondered at the secrets he hid there behind them. He seemed ill inclined to elaborate on it, but continued after only a short pause.

  “There is no other more appropriate name that we have for these devils—all of them Daemon’s creation. Daemon, monster, devil. They are a part of a most terrible and evil army—the Daemon Horde. Their sole purpose is to feed their endless appetites for psychic energy through the consumption of human flesh and blood. Or Shikar, if they can actually catch one of us.”

  “I’ve seen them eat.” She shuddered. “You’re saying they get some kind of sick, weird battery power from feeding on the living?”

  “Yes. That’s it exactly.” He seemed pleased that she’d grasped the situation so quickly. “Any human will do, for all humans possess some small amounts of this ‘battery power.’ But they thrive on the truly gifted, those humans who are psychic.”

  “There’s no such thing as a psychic.” She scoffed at the idea.

  “Oh but you’re wrong. And I’ve no doubt that you possess these very gifts, which make you so valuable to the Horde. Else why would they be so keen on hunting you?”

  “I hate to tell you this, but I don’t think they’re after me to eat me,” she said with a small frown.

  Tryton seemed to start, though his expression never changed. “Why would you think that? They’ve been after you for many nights now, this I’ve been told—”

  “That’s debatable as I’ve been hunting them too,” she interjected. “But suppose, for the sake of argument, that they were hunting me? Even so, they haven’t succeeded in hurting me yet. They don’t seem to want to hurt me. Not really. So it makes for easier kills on my part. I think you’re wrong about their intent.”

  Tryton smiled, looking a little relieved, as if he saw through the enigma she had presented before him with her words. “Perhaps you are underestimating your skills as a warrior a little too much? You must indeed be a formidable foe if you can call the Daemons easy kills.”

  “No. I’m no wuss,” she quickly amended, her ego needing that small appeasement, “but they don’t fight me the same way they fight Edge. I saw them. When they fight him they’re vicious and nearly unstoppable. If they came at me with such deadly intent there isn’t much chance I could get away from them unscathed. They’re holding back from me.”

  “How can this be?” Tryton asked, looking incredulous. It was an expression that Emily instinctively sensed he didn’t wear often. “I don’t understand.”

  “I don’t either. But then I understand practically nil of what’s been going on around me for the past several days. I’ve just been sort of rolling with the punches, so to speak.”

  “You must be mistaken, Emily. The Daemons would not so doggedly hunt a human without the hunger for the kill uppermost in their minds.”

  “Well I’m sorry, but the facts are the facts,” she emphasized. “The only thing I know for any certainty is that these things want me to go with them somewhere—”

  “What? What did you say? How can you know that?” Tryton fired at her.

  Emily bristled under his burning gaze, uncomfortable with his volatility and feeling her own temper rise at his ruthless questioning. “They know my name. They keep saying ‘Emily. Come. Emily, come.’ Like that, only a helluva lot more scary.” She tried and failed to mimic the Daemons’ awful words. She shuddered from the memory. However safe she might be at the moment, such a thing very nearly terrified her. “They don’t want to kill me, at least not right away. I’m sure of it. I assume they want to take me somewhere first. Why, I don’t know. Hell, I don’t even care. I just want to get rid of the bastards, the sooner the better, while keeping myself out of their claws.”

  Tryton rose from his chair so swiftly that Emily’s eyes were unable to follow the movement clearly. Grabbing a fistful of powder from an urn on the mantle, he threw it into the fire and said something unintelligible to her ears.

  “What are you doing?”

  “This is fl’shan sand. I use it to call any of my people to me. Like a telepathic pager, or so Steffy would say. As it is made from the saliva of Incinerators it can also be used as an incendiary.” His mind was clearly not on the subject, and he seemed only to explain it to her out of common courtesy.

  “Who the hell is Steffy?” She was moved to ask the one question when she had countless others that were no doubt more relevant, but Tryton’s attention was already diverted.

  The man in the hooded cloak appeared at Tryton’s side and Emily jumped in her seat, surprised. Though she’d seen the Daemons blip in and out like magic before her very eyes, she’d yet to see it done with such a quietly swift finesse as this man managed to employ.

  So that was how she’d gotten here. This man had taken her and Edge with him. Somehow. “Cool,” she breathed in surprised awe.

  Tryton moved to her side, towering over her. “Tell him what you just told me.”

  “Why? What’s going on?” she asked, very unsettled by his intensity.

  Tryton was too impatient to wait for her to do as he asked, nor did he answer her questions. He turned to the shadowy man—The Traveler—and spat out in a near rage, “The Daemons know her. They know her name! How do they know her name? And why would they even care to?”

  The cowl moved as the man cocked his head and Emily saw the indistinct blur of his features. He was a lovely man; of that there could be no doubt. She wonder
ed if any of these Shikars were ugly because thus far, from all she’d seen of them they seemed to be a race of truly beautiful men.

  “I cannot say,” he answered softly.

  “They speak to her, call her name and tell her to come with them. What in the name of all that is sacred could they possibly want with a hostage? For that is all I can assume the Daemons wish for when they implore her to join them.”

  The Traveler was silent for a long, tense moment. “It is as I feared then. She is not psychic, Tryton. I felt this truth from the first. I tried to warn you of my doubts. She is powerful in her own way, but not in the way most useful to the Horde.”

  “How can this be?” Tryton roared. “And why do they want her?”

  “I cannot say. I fear they have an agenda all their own. But for a certainty, if she were truly powerful they would have fed on her already despite any plans they might have to the contrary. They have not the strength to deny their appetites for long.”

  “Hey!” Emily interjected. “I’m still here, remember? Why not ask me what I think?”

  “You’re a human, Emily. You cannot understand what we are about here, not yet.”

  “Did you mean for that to be insulting? Because I am very insulted.” She rose from her seat, squaring her shoulders. “I may be human. I may be new to all of this. But I am not inferior and if you’re going to stand around discussing something that concerns me, I will be a part of the conversation. Is that clear?” she bit out savagely.

  Tryton was taken aback by her words. His eyes widened and he appeared dumbfounded for several seconds. He rallied, schooled his features once more into his serene, polite mask, and cleared his throat. “You are right. I apologize for my rudeness, Emily. I am not myself. I find I am beyond surprised and confused by this information you have divulged.”

  “Why?” She nearly yelled it, in the midst of her growing agitation.

  “Because the Daemons are not normally cunning enough to discover the identity of their prey. And why should they want to? They have ever been mindless, animated only by their most basic and elementary hungers,” The Traveler answered her. “We are surprised that they know you. Surprised that they spoke to you. Surprised that they have held to some secret agenda in seeking to capture you…without feeding on you.”

  “But what could they want with her?” Tryton asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Retrieve Obsidian and Cady. Have them assemble their team before nightfall on the morrow. Do it now,” Tryton commanded.

  The Traveler disappeared immediately.

  Tryton turned to Emily once more. “Would you be willing to help aid our fight against these creatures, Emily? Would you put yourself at risk, allow us to use you as bait to lure these creatures, so that we can discover their new purpose?”

  Emily looked him in the eye, judging him and finding him an admirable sort. Obviously his own people respected and held him in high regard. She could do no less, though she barely knew him. Something about him compelled her to trust in him, to revere him. So it was that the choice became blessedly clear to her. With barely a hesitation Emily took the step she now realized she’d been planning to take all along. Only Tryton had given her the upper hand in asking her to aid them, though he couldn’t have known it, surely. “On one condition. And one condition only,” she said at last.

  “What is that?” Tryton asked.

  “You let me be a part of all this. When the time comes that I’ve met my end of the bargain and let you use me to lure these things to you…you let me join your people in this fight.”

  “Be careful you know for certain what you ask of me,” he warned.

  “Those are my terms. I want to be a part of this fight. I want to work with you to keep my people safe. That’s what you do isn’t it? Protect people like me from these things? That’s why Edge is always out there at night, fighting the Daemons.”

  “Yes. You have it aright. Though it is not so noble as it may sound. We want these creatures stamped out utterly, from our world, from yours, from all planes of existence.”

  “So you want these creatures dead. I want them gone from my city. Dead or otherwise, I don’t really care about the particulars. Let me learn from you, let me fight with you, and we may reach that goal together.”

  “But to let you join us…I would have to ask that you leave your normal life behind. Becoming a warrior, a member of our army, will consume all of your time. It will become your life, one you can never turn your back on. You cannot take half measures, and we cannot risk discovery by letting you roam as you will.” Tryton’s gaze roved over her, as if taking her measure.

  “Where will I live? How will I survive?”

  “You will be a part of our family. You will not be the first human we have taken into our ranks. We always take care of our own. You will live here. You will want for nothing. But you will fight…and you may die.”

  The risks were great, but she found that she didn’t care. Her course was plotted, her heart and courage were set upon the path before her and she would not falter. “Fine. So long as you promise me I can help to make a difference, help to protect my people, I’ll leave my life behind as you ask. I’ll make a life here, with your people. And you will treat me as one of your own.” The opportunity was more than she’d dared to hope for. It was a perfect solution to her dilemma, and though she’d be giving up her life, she found that it was not too great a sacrifice for the new life he now offered her… She stilled. It was too perfect.

  Her eyes met Tryton’s, saw the trace of smug triumph in their fiery depths. Had he planned this from the start? Planned to have her join them? Is that why he’d wished to meet her all along? She glimpsed the small twitching curve of his lips, saw him ease the smile away with haste and secrecy. The devil had schemed all this from the very beginning.

  And she thought she’d been so clever, that she’d had the upper hand in this odd negotiation between them. She wondered, looking now into Tryton’s too astute gaze, just how he’d known to maneuver her so easily. For maneuver her he had, no doubt, and she’d realized it too late.

  She smiled, seeing in him many of the qualities she’d always respected and admired in a leader. He was cunning, this one. But he was kind as well. Somehow she knew it. To trust in him was not completely foolhardy, no matter his hidden machinations.

  Tryton smiled back, and had she but known it, she would have been surprised that his thoughts were not too dissimilar from hers.

  “Agreed,” he said.

  “Goody.” Emily felt as if a new journey lie ahead of her…and wondered with no small amount of apprehension if perhaps she might all too soon find herself in far over her head.

  “Let me show you to your new living quarters. I will have all of your belongings transported to your new home immediately, so that you can grow more comfortable here the soonest.”

  “What about my job? My apartment? I’ll need to settle my affairs so that no one misses me.”

  “Do you have family? Friends? People who would grieve if you disappeared from their lives?”

  It chagrined her to note that there was no one who would truly care. She had no family, not anymore, and no close friendships with anyone.

  Tryton knew her answer having seen the frown upon her face. “Don’t worry about it. We’ll take care of everything. There will be no searches for you, no missing person bulletins over which to feel guilt. For now, rest. No doubt you need sleep before we indulge in further discussion.”

  It was hard to put her trust and faith in this man, who was virtually a stranger. But she realized that to balk now would gain her no advantage. She would let him do as he promised and take care of the affairs of her former life. For now, she was tired, so very tired. She nodded her assent to his words. Tryton reached out, surprising her, and laid a gentle yet bracing hand upon her shoulder.

  “Tomorrow night will begin your new life with us. In time, all your fears and questions will be laid to rest, I assure you. Welcom
e to the Shikar Alliance, Emily.”

  Chapter Seven

  Emily’s eyes darted open in the darkness. Something, some sound or movement, had awakened her. Her surroundings were strange, alien to her, so it took several long moments for her to get her bearings there in her large, exquisitely soft Shikar bed. Tryton had been as good as his word, and already all of her worldly belongings surrounded her, giving her some small comfort in this new home of hers. She was grateful to him for that. Though it seemed as black as midnight, she sensed it was no later than midday on the surface of her world—and her alarm clock stated as much in glowing red numbers on the bedside table.

  “I did not mean to startle you.” That voice was a brush of thick velvet against her mind.

  “What are you doing here, Traveler?” Feeling no small amount of skittishness at his unexpected—uninvited—presence, she masked her unease with the grumpy words.

  “Do not fear me.” His voice was nearly a whisper, barely a murmur.

  Emily sat up in the bed, instinctively pulling the covers to her throat to cover her nudity, wondering how well he could see her in the dark. “I’m not afraid of you.” It was only a small lie.

  “Good.” There was the hint of a smile in his quiet voice. His hand came out, disembodied in the darkness, and touched her hair with a light caress.

  Emily pulled back uneasily.

  “Sorry.” He immediately withdrew his hand. “I couldn’t help myself. It has been so long since I touched a human like this. In gentle comfort, instead of necessity.”

  “Back off, buddy.” She felt his latent sensuality spill out over her like a warm, inviting blanket.

  He chuckled softly. “I meant no insult. I do not desire you as a man desires a woman, though you are beautiful. Have no fear on that score. You intrigue me, that is all. Your fragile humanity and iron strength of will intrigue me. It reminds me of someone I knew, briefly, some time ago.”

  Emily didn’t know whether or not she was insulted or relieved by his words. “I’m not fragile.” It was all she could think to say in response.