Black Widow Demon (20 page)

“That’s your stepdaughter’s sole demon ability?” Siege asked. “Seduction?” He smiled as if greatly amused. “Take it from an old man. That ability proves nothing other than that she’s a woman.”

Good. Justice did not want Siege too suspicious of her just yet, only willing to have an assassin bring her to him.

“I was once favored by a goddess,” Justice said. “I would hope that an ordinary woman could hold no such power over me. This one’s mother slept with a demon. I heard that from her mother’s own lips. And after my stepdaughter escaped lawful custody, I followed her into the mountains. While I don’t wish to believe it, it’s possible she brought the demon fire against those villagers. She could have enslaved the men, then used her control over them to round the villagers up and lock them in the temple before burning it. She’s even touched one of your recruits,” he added. “Creed. It’s possible she can make him do her bidding, too.” He could not resist a bitter jibe aimed at the goddesses’ faithful, one of which he would forever remain whether he wished to or not. “Once a slave, always a slave.”

The smile on the old man’s face vanished. “Creed is hardly weak-minded.”

Justice fought to keep his own opinions on that concealed. It seemed Raven’s friend was already earning a reputation for himself, even amongst the seasoned assassins. It had always been this way with Creed. He inspired the trust of others in him.

“Then let him prove he’s not owned by her, or that she doesn’t have the ability to own him,” Justice said. “Have him track her down and return her to me. Of everyone here, he would stand the best chance of capturing her—she trusts him.”

Suspicion glittered in the old man’s eyes. “If she’s spawn, why do you want her?”

“As her stepfather, I own her and am responsible for her. I also believe that the stories about spawn are true. It’s the duty of the Godseekers and their assassins to ensure the safety of the mortal world from demons in the goddesses’ absence,” he said. “I want to discover the extent of the capabilities she’s kept so carefully hidden.”

Siege stared at his blue-veined hands, which had begun an intricate manipulation of his pen back and forth between his nimble fingers while he deliberated over Justice’s arguments.

“What do you believe the assassins should do?” he finally asked. “Once I have more proof,” he added. “I would need to see for myself that she’s truly half demon.”

“Of course.” Justice felt his excitement mount. “I think the Godseekers and assassins need to provide a service to the rest of the world in the name of the goddesses. We can use my stepdaughter to examine what a spawn’s weaknesses might be. Then, we begin to hunt them. But we start with her.”

Siege reached for a bell. At once, a servant appeared. “Send for Creed,” he said to him.

The servant bowed and left.

It had been many months since the last time Justice saw the young man. When Creed entered the room a short while later, Justice might not have recognized him if he had not been expecting him.

Wearing soft-soled, brushed-leather boots that extended to the knee over tight denim trousers and a thick shirt of coarse wool, Creed had hardened in both appearance and manner. The black hair he’d always kept short was gone, his head clean-shaven and smooth. He’d also filled out. Once lean in appearance, he now had the bulky shoulder and thigh muscles associated with long days of weapons training and hand-to-hand combat. He made Justice aware of his own thickening waistline and advancing years, and Justice clenched his jaw at the unflattering comparison.

Creed had grown more dangerous, too. A threat prowled beneath the surface of those implacable eyes, and it was apparent that his fondness for Justice had not improved with time and distance.

But Justice did not care what the younger man thought. As an assassin, Creed was now forced to do the bidding of a Godseeker, and Justice intended to pit him against Raven.

“You’re looking well,” Justice said to him.

Creed gave the small bow of respect required by assassin tradition and the enforcing presence of Siege, but he did not respond directly. He turned to the elderly assassin instead. “You wanted to see me?”

“Justice claims we have a spawn loose in the mountains. He’s requesting you hunt for her.”

Justice saw the man’s faint start, then a flicker of wariness enter Creed’s eyes. “I don’t understand.”

“Raven has exposed herself as a spawn,” Justice said. He enjoyed having unsettled her longtime defender. “But she managed to escape. I tracked her into the mountains.”

“How did she expose herself?” Creed asked. “How did it become apparent she’s spawn, after so many years?”

“She tried to entice me.”

Creed started toward him, one tight fist held low at his side. “You lying bastard.”

“Creed!” Siege’s voice lashed out with enough force to drag him to a halt.

Justice did not show his relief at the old man’s intervention, but he knew—Creed’s eyes told him—that the younger assassin would have killed him if he had not been checked. It was also noteworthy to him that the old man did not make Creed apologize for the insult and threat.

“You’ll find her,” the old man said to Creed. “When you do, you’ll bring her here for judgment. Other Godseekers will be summoned so that any decision regarding her is final.” His gaze shot to Justice. “And fair.”

This was not at all what Justice wanted. It took the control from his hands. His chin went up. “She’s my daughter. Her fate should be determined by me.”

Siege dismissed his protest. “You claim she was spawned by a demon. Therefore, she’s the responsibility of all the Godseekers, not one.” Siege addressed Creed again, whose anger had not diminished but at least seemed to be better regulated. “Find her. I want her alive. But if that’s not possible, given what it’s claimed she is, then her body will do.”

If Justice had not known Creed for so many years, he might never have noticed the sudden rigidity in the young man’s demeanor. His mouth compressed, and he did not meet Siege’s eyes, instead staring at a point just past the assassin leader’s shoulder.

Obviously this was not the decision he wanted, either.

“Weather permitting,” Creed said, “I’ll set out in search of her tomorrow.”

Siege dismissed him.

Justice watched him go, doubting very much if Creed would obey Siege’s command. At least, not to the letter.

It made him worth watching.

…

Inside the sweltering smithy, Creed dipped the cherry-red blade of the knife he was forging into brine. He had a talent for the finer blacksmithing work thanks to Columbine’s teachings.

Sweat trailed down his back to collect at the laces of the sturdy leather apron he wore. This was a delicate task that required intense concentration, and it helped keep his mind off matters he could do nothing about. The storm meant he could not set out at once to find Raven, as he wished—he had to wait it out. He maintained his normal calm, friendly demeanor as he went about his training and daily chores. Inside, however, he chafed at the delay. Worse, he worried for Raven’s physical safety. Was she out there, unprotected, in this weather? Had Justice touched her? Was that why she ran?

Creed’s mistake was that he had never dreamed that Justice, a man who had once been the favorite of a goddess, would see her as anything other than his daughter. Now he knew that he should never have left her. The recruiters had come for him, yes, but he could have persuaded them to leave without him.

But no one denied the recruiters. Not even he could have kept such a story from spreading if he’d succeeded, and it would have revealed more about him than he cared for anyone to discover.

And now Raven was alone in the mountains, searching for him in a storm that showed no signs of relenting. Already, the drifts were waist deep in places. When it was safe to leave the temple, if he found her, he had to somehow get her to safety. That would create further problems for him. If he did not return with her—and soon—Justice would have Siege send someone else to comb the mountains for her.

And there would be other half demons to worry over before too long. Creed had told Roam of the mining village not far from the temple that had houses fit to live in for the winter, but it was no longer such a good idea to have them so close.

He had led them into danger, not away from it.

“Creed?” He looked up from his task. An attendant stood in the door of the smithy. “Siege wants to speak with you.”

Creed set aside his work and went to find the elderly assassin in the library.

Siege looked up from his desk when Creed entered. “Tell me you have no idea where this woman might be hiding.”

“None,” Creed said, thankful to be able to speak with truth. He had followed the possible paths she might take in his head and there were too many. He was also certain she did not know how to get here—not unless new talents had emerged over the past months.

“Good.” Siege steepled his fingers and tapped his chin. “I’ve learned in the past not to give in to Justice’s demands without first understanding why he makes them. Can you enlighten me as to any other reasons why he might want this girl?”

Creed had the highest respect for Siege and his fairness. He also had a great fear for Raven, because she was indeed what Justice claimed her to be.

He walked a fine line at the moment.

“Justice hated her mother, and Raven looks very much like her,” Creed said. He could not hold back a faint smile. “Although Raven has a great deal more spirit, as her circumstances should indicate.”

“What happened to the mother?”

“Justice says she died in her sleep. Raven claims he beat her and she died of internal bleeding.”

“Becoming a favorite was a mixed blessing for men such as Justice.” Siege passed a hand over his eyes and sighed as if weary. “It gave them standing with other men. With the goddesses, however, they were always servants. Male whores, some people called them, and men like Justice still take out their resentment of that on mortal women.” All at once Siege looked very old to Creed. “Unless the girl’s a doctor, she has no way of proving her allegations against him. Even if she could, Justice didn’t break any laws.”

“No.”

But Creed had loved Columbine, and he loved Raven, too. He could do nothing for her mother, but he would help Raven. The laws Siege spoke of were in need of change. They had been created by men who took out their bitterness on anyone weaker than themselves.

Siege was frowning as he stared at Creed. “I’d like you to wait at least a day after the storm ends before setting out. Find some tasks in the temple that need completing. I’d like to see how impatient Justice is to find her. If he complains about the delay, I’ll remind him that once an assassin is given a task, how he completes it is up to him.”

Creed did not want to wait any longer than necessary. He, too, was anxious to find Raven—which led him to wonder if, perhaps, it was his own patience that was being tested.

He assured Siege he had several important matters to attend to before he could leave the temple. Then he excused himself and returned to the smithy.

Raven was tough and resourceful.

He decided to wait two days, not one, before setting out.

…

It was two full days before the storm ended.

Several times, Blade had been forced outside to ensure they were not buried alive, or that their makeshift chimney did not plug with packed snow and suffocate them in their sleep.

Two days trapped inside together had been no hardship for him. Long periods of silence did not trouble Raven, and she knew a number of small games to play in which to pass the time. Between them, they had mended and cleaned the clothing and equipment they carried. He told her of the saloon he once owned in Freetown and of the world beyond the mountains she had never seen. In return, she told him of the jewelry she crafted. He had most likely seen pieces of it in the Freetown market and paid no attention, but he would look for it in the future. She had a particular identifying mark she made in her pieces. She smiled often and easily, and he enjoyed holding her against him as he watched over her while she slept. He would miss her when the time came for them to part.

It would come too soon.

The morning of the third day dawned bright and crisp and sharp. Jagged mountain peaks, steeped in white, thrust upward through a bed of intense blue sky. Peering from the drawn-back flaps of the shelter, Raven’s eyes widened. The tip of her nose reddened in the sere cold.

“Beautiful,” she breathed.

Blade had viewed the pristine drifts piled around them as nothing other than an impediment to travel but found that her perspective, and wonder, helped him see unexpected pleasure in the world. He inhaled fresh air and let his breath out slowly.

The Temple of Immortal Right, if he remembered correctly, was a half-day’s walk from here. The fallen snow would lengthen that time. But while the snow might slow his progress, the aggressive winds would help wipe away his footprints.

He had already decided that Raven would not accompany him any farther. There was too great a chance that Justice anticipated her arrival at the temple, knowing she would go looking for Creed. And while getting into the temple alone would not be a problem for Blade, exiting it alive was of significant concern. The best solution was to leave Raven here where she was warm and secure and bring Creed to her. She had not dreamed of the demon boundary in days and would be alone for one night only.

He did not want her with him for another reason. If he was not satisfied that Creed could dissuade her from training, then he would not relinquish her to him. He had meant it when he said he would do whatever it took to protect her.

He did not yet know what he might have to do.

Raven was not pleased when she was unable to change his decision to leave her behind. The pleading in her eyes almost swayed him, but he was coming to know her too well. She was not afraid for herself. She worried for him, and it was unnecessary. But that didn’t mean he was not warmed by her concern. He simply had no intention of allowing it to stop him.