Demon's Daughter (Demon Outlaws) (22 page)

Airie sat on the ground and cuddled Scratch on her lap, burying her nose in his hair and breathing his little boy scent. Dark places held dark creatures, tiny but deadly, and she did not want him inadvertently provoking anything. He liked to examine things too closely sometimes. She wondered where he came from.

Kissing his cheek, she murmured, “Poor baby.”

He snuggled deeper into her arms and fell asleep within seconds, his thumb in his mouth, leaving Airie with her thoughts.

She was not patient, particularly when afraid, and she was afraid for Hunter. He had refused her help. He still did not believe a goddess had spoken to her.

She removed Hunter’s hat and set it on the ground beside her, pulling her braid free of her shirt with relief. Her hair itched her skin.

Several hours passed before she heard a scraping noise, then Hunter lowered himself into the tunnel, and Airie could have wept with relief.

“We don’t have much time,” he said to her. “I have to get you both to a friend’s place. He lives nearby. He’ll watch out for you until I return.”

“We can leave Scratch with him,” she replied, “but I’ll stay with you. I can help.”

“We’ll talk about it later.” He took Scratch from her. He was awake now, although silent as usual. “Follow me.”

The tunnel was short. Hunter eased open the trap door on the other end of it, listened carefully, then slid it aside. They emerged onto a street, near the back door of a silent building.

Airie could see quite well in the darkness. She looked around, curious. The street was long, straight, and wide enough for a single wagon to pass through. They stood at the end nearest the city wall. Another, narrower street, more like a path, looped the wall’s inner perimeter.

Footsteps thudded above, approaching on the wall. Hunter grabbed her hand and pulled her into the shadows, out of sight, as a figure swinging a lantern came into view.

The guard paused above them, angled the light in different directions, then after a few long moments, continued on.

“Night watchman,” Hunter whispered to her. He examined her. “What happened to your hat?”

She had forgotten it on the floor of the tunnel. She made a move toward the tunnel entrance. “I’ll go get it.”

“Never mind,” he said, his words stopping her. “We need to hurry. There’s no one around other than the night watch.”

There wasn’t, she noticed, examining the street where they stood with growing unease. It was as if the entire city had been abandoned. She had seen more signs of life back home in the mountain’s sparse trading posts than here.

And suddenly, a presence inside her grew restless. Her skin itched as if it were now too small for her body, and stretched unbearably tight. Compulsion, as if someone called her name, drew her toward the west end of Freetown and away from the direction Hunter indicated they were to travel.

She reached for his fingers to lead him. “We have to go this way.”

Hunter shifted Scratch in his arms so that the little boy sat on the crook of one elbow. “Impossible. The demons will be here at any moment and I have to cross open desert to get back to the wagon train. The sooner I drop you off with Blade, the better.”

The compulsion grew stronger. Not even the threat of being separated from Scratch helped her to fight it.

Airie shook off Hunter’s hand and darted away. She heard his spurred boots clicking on clay cobblestones behind her, then his soft swearing. “Damn it all, Airie, we’re announcing to the entire city where to find us. Slow down and try to make less noise.”

She halted in the shadows of a long archway that led into a small cobbled courtyard encased by four two-level buildings. Inside the courtyard, a small crowd had gathered. In the midst of the crowd, one speaker stood out. A faint amber light glowed at his collar.

“The goddess will come,” she heard him say. “I feel her presence.”

The glowing amulet he wore around his neck was what had drawn her to him. The goddess who spoke to her had responded to it
.

Now that she knew what compelled her, she found it easier to resist. The light infusing the amber amulet flickered and went out. Murmurs of disappointment spread through the gathering.

Hunter pinned Airie to the wall of the archway with his body. One of his knees blocked her path.

“Godseekers,” he breathed into her ear. “We don’t need this kind of trouble right now.”

Who were these people? Why did Hunter consider them trouble?

Why was she so drawn to them?

“If the Demon Slayer is with her,” the spokesman continued, “we will ask him one last time to join us. If he refuses again, we will kill him.”

“I don’t remember being asked to join them,” Hunter muttered beneath his breath. “They went straight to trying to kill me.”

“Why?” Airie whispered back, confused.

“Because of my amulet. Whoever wears it becomes the Slayer.”

The goddess’s denial flared at his words.
That is untrue. The Slayer is champion. There will be only one
.

And Hunter had been chosen.

Scratch, still in Hunter’s arms, squirmed to be let down. The moment of inattention he caused was enough for Airie. She pushed past Hunter and stepped boldly into the courtyard, guided again by the tug of compulsion on her amulet.

“Who’s there?” the Godseeker’s leader demanded from his place at the head of the gathering.

Airie’s skin warmed. She looked at her hands in faint wonder, flipping them over to examine her palms. Her skin was glowing.

Her head went up and her voice rose so that all present could hear. “No one harms the Slayer.”

The words rolled from her chest like a clap of thunder, startling her as much as anyone. The goddess had spoken, joining her thoughts and her voice to Airie’s.

Her audience stilled, gaping at her in wonder and fear. One by one, they dropped to their knees.

Airie turned to Hunter, who had stepped beside her, his hand on the hilt of his sword. Scratch remained hidden in the alley. She sensed him behind her in the shadows.

“Congratulations,” Hunter said to her, his eyes on the men in the gathering. “You have just been deified. Next time, let me speak for myself.”

But from the corner of his eye he was looking at her strangely now, too. The soft golden glow from her skin warmed the angles of his face so that she could read the caution creeping into his eyes.

She didn’t like it.

The glow of her skin dimmed with the shifting of her mood.

“She has come to lead us,” the Godseeker said, starting toward her through his small crowd of followers.

“No, she has not.” Hunter stepped in front of Airie to protect her.

The Godseeker reacted as if the move were a threat. He dropped his hand to his hip in a blur, too fast for Hunter to react to the gun being drawn on him.

Airie’s world slowed, the faces around her distorting, sound waning to a dull background roar. Her own movements, however, remained lightning-quick. She pushed Hunter aside. The bullet shot past her ear to embed in one of the buildings behind her.

He tried to kill the champion. This is not to be tolerated
.

Anger set in. She felt the heat rise in her eyes. She turned her head, needing something to burn, and narrowed her gaze on a target.

The Godseeker’s boots smoldered.

With profound disbelief on his face, he danced as he tried to kick them off.

“Stop it, Airie!” Hunter shouted, grabbing and shaking her, startling her so that she lost her concentration. The Godseeker got his boots off his feet. Smoke rose from the insoles, but they did not catch fire.

She was not yet finished. “If you wish to fight demons,” she said past Hunter to the now silent gathering, “you first need to know your allies.” She let her eyes flare again. “And your enemy.”

Hunter backed away from the mute Godseekers, pushing her behind him and into the alley where Scratch sat in wait on the cobblestones. Hunter lifted him and turned to Airie.

“Start running,” he said to her, his voice quiet and grim. “And do not utter one more word until I say you can.”

Chapter Thirteen

Blade carried the bucket of food waste into the small, unlit compound off his kitchen, heading for the alley beyond. A skittering of loose gravel immediately inside the locked gate let him know he wasn’t alone.

He stepped out of the thin wash of light streaming from the open doorway behind him and reached for the knife he carried beneath one arm, but a long, low whistle stayed his hand.

Hunter
.

The light from the kitchen was enough for him to identify the wriggling bundle Hunter carried in his arms, and Blade could not have been more surprised if his friend had appeared naked and dancing by moonlight before him.

What in the name of the goddesses was Hunter doing with a child?

Blade cleared his throat. “Well.”

“Well, what?” Hunter plunked the child on the ground at his feet.

The little boy looked up at him, all wide eyes and wariness. The dark expression on Hunter’s face left Blade with no idea what to say next.

“Hungry?” he asked the child, figuring that to be a safe topic, and if the answer was yes, one easily addressed.

The little boy nodded.

Ruby appeared in the kitchen doorway, no doubt wondering what was taking him so long.

“Well,” she said, echoing Blade’s surprise. She glanced sharply from Hunter to Blade. “We don’t deal in children.” Her tone left no doubt as to her opinion of those who did, an opinion Blade shared.

Surely Hunter wouldn’t—

A woman moved out of the shadows into the soft light, surprising Blade even more than the child Hunter had carried. Hunter owed his life to his ability to move silently, so Blade wasn’t concerned that he hadn’t noticed his presence until Hunter wanted him to. But it bothered him that he had not been aware of the woman’s.

She was very tall, but with a delicate femininity of frame. Her hair was as black as pitch, long and thick, and tied in a simple braid that dangled neatly to her narrow waist. Long legs, trim hips and high breasts didn’t escape his attention, although the men’s cast-offs she wore were far from flattering.

Yet it was her face that took his breath.

She had the smooth, golden features of a goddess. He’d never forgotten their visits to his childhood village, infrequent though they had been. No one who had seen them could possibly forget.

Ruby had crossed over the threshold to stand in the compound beside him. “Put your tongue back in your head,” she said in an amused undertone. “You’ve seen women before.”

“The little boy’s hungry,” Blade replied.

Ruby smiled at the woman. “I imagine you are, too.” She extended her hand in welcome. “I’m Ruby.”

“Airie.”

Airie took the offered hand and when she did, Ruby started at the touch, as if she had received a jolt of some sort and wasn’t quite certain whether she liked it.

The older woman recovered her hand and her poise with equal speed. “Let’s go get you both something to eat, shall we?”

She stepped aside. Airie took the boy by the hand and led him into the light and warmth of the kitchen.

Blade watched them disappear inside, then turned his attention back to his friend. “Who is that?”

“That,” Hunter said, slinging the pack from his back and dropping it to the ground with a grunt of pure weariness, “is a demon.”

Blade drew back and stared through his kitchen doorway in shocked disbelief. “No.”

“Oh, most definitely yes,” Hunter said. “And keep your voice down. She has the ears of one, too.”

Blade’s initial disbelief turned from shock to a slow-burning, incredulous anger. “So you brought her here? To my home?”

Hunter mounted the single wooden step and closed the door to the kitchen, throwing them into darkness, shaking like a man badly in need of a drink despite the fact that he never drank. Not to Blade’s knowledge.

“She’s not one hundred percent demon. I don’t know what she really is, except that she is the spawn I was hired to bring in. After we saw the fire last night I had to find out what was happening with you, and leaving her behind wasn’t an option. What would you do in my place?”

Some of Blade’s anger faded with the dawning awareness that Hunter’s shock and disbelief surpassed his own.

What
would
he do?

Blade had no ready answer as Hunter sat on the back step and told him everything, starting with his first meeting with Airie, their flight down the mountain, and ending with the altercation with the Godseekers.

“Let’s say she really is half demon,” Blade said, although the thought of it made him ill. “Do I want her here? Do I want her near the other women?”

Hunter lifted his shoulders in a shrug of bewilderment. “She healed Sally with the touch of her bare hands. She saved that scrawny kid, who was starved to the point I could have sworn he was the next best thing to dead, and the next day he was fine. She wouldn’t let me leave him behind, although you and I both know that would have been the kindest thing to do.” He sighed, letting his hands drop. “She set a Godseeker’s boots on fire. Although to be fair, he was trying to kill me.”

Blade remembered Ruby’s flash of surprise as she touched Airie’s hand. He would ask Ruby about that later, and about her impressions of her. Ruby’s instincts regarding people were usually sound.

“Can she be a…good demon?” Blade asked hopefully. Hunter shot him a black look. “Then why have you brought her here?”

Again, Hunter lifted his hands helplessly. “I wanted her to be safe.”

Blade did not want any demon, good or otherwise, male or female, in his home. But the memory of the woman Mamna had condemned to death would not leave him, and that she would turn Airie, too, over to the demons was not in doubt. What the demons would do to a spawn was not either.

But what the demons would do to a spawn who looked like Airie before they killed her was the uncertainty that made Blade hesitate. That was the real reason Hunter had brought her here. Uncertainty had made him hesitate as well.

“You should have killed her when you realized what she was,” Blade said.

“I know.” Hunter passed a hand over his face. “But it’s too late for that and now, I can’t turn her over to Mamna with an easy conscience. Not until she does something…I don’t know. Demon-like.”

Setting a man’s boots on fire wasn’t demon enough?

Blade sensed his friend’s tiredness despite the thick darkness. It was unlikely that he’d had a moment’s rest since first meeting Airie, and how he’d managed to get her to Freetown was a complete mystery. She did not act as if she had come against her will.

“What do you consider ‘demon-like’?” Blade asked. He settled on the step beside his friend, his leg aching fiercely. “Will she have to kill someone? Because you and I have both killed people, but you and I have never brought anyone back from the dead. What demon display would it take to make you turn her over to Mamna?”

“I don’t know!” Hunter all but snarled. He kicked a heel into the dirt. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with the boy either.”

Responsibility for others wasn’t something men like Hunter wore with ease. It fit like a poorly made shirt, too tight at the neck and shoulders. Blade knew all about it. “You’ve gotten yourself into a lot of trouble this time.”

“What’s worse, I’ve brought the trouble to you.”

Blade was honest. “And I can’t say I’m happy about it. But what’s done is done, and until you come up with some plan, we aren’t going to sleep at the same times. I’m not letting a demon run free around here without one of us watching her.”

“Thank you,” Hunter said, relief thick in his voice.

“Don’t thank me yet,” Blade warned him. “These two aren’t the worst of your problems. Sooner or later you’ll have to deal with Mamna, and that’s the one thing I can’t help you with.”

“Can you keep Airie and the boy for me for the night?” Hunter rose to his feet. “I have to go back. I left the people from the wagon train in the canyon where I usually camp. They’ll be frantic by now. I’ve been gone too long as it is.” He rubbed the back of his neck.

“You think the demons will come back tonight?” Blade asked. He tried not to think of the man’s screams as he’d been torn apart in the street the night before. He tried not to remember his own when the demon had torn flesh from his leg.

“Yes. So does Mamna. The gates were locked about three hours before sundown,” Hunter replied. “I’m guessing she wanted to offer them a diversion.”

Blade looked at him. “You don’t have to go back out there. You don’t owe those people anything.”

Hunter handed the pack to Blade. “Give this to Airie. I do have to go because I made a promise to them. Besides,” he added with a lopsided grin, “there will be demons to kill.”

“I’ll kill this one if I have to,” Blade warned his departing back.

Hunter froze but did not turn around. He appeared to be thinking Blade’s words over with careful consideration.

“I know,” he admitted finally, then opened the gate and stepped through it. “But you won’t have to.” He latched the gate behind him.

Blade sat for a long time on the step listening to the cold desert night, hoping his friend’s instincts were good ones. If he did have to kill her, it would be the death of a friendship as well.

…

Who was Mamna, and why would Hunter turn Airie over to her?

At first she had tried not to listen to the conversation outside because she suspected it would not be one to her liking. But the tone of Blade’s voice, and the reference to Mamna, had turned her skin to ice. That Hunter also did not trust her around his friends—that he thought she might somehow harm or endanger them—hurt her deeply.

Yet she could not deny the possibility existed. While she knew a goddess walked with her, she also possessed demon blood, and it made her temper difficult to control.

The goddess was silent now. Airie had very little control over that relationship, either.

The gate latched behind Hunter, and she turned her attention back to the lovely woman named Ruby with the gleaming red hair. She puttered around the large kitchen, exuding a gentle kindness and chattering quietly to Scratch, who sat on a bench at the long wooden table.

“Does he not yet speak?” she asked Airie, glancing up from a small plate of some sort of stew she’d set on the counter to cool. She ladled up another plateful from the pot on the stove and gestured for Airie to sit, then placed it in front of her.

“No,” Airie replied, and wondered if it was as unusual as she suspected. The slight frown on Ruby’s face indicated it was. Airie touched his hair, brushing it back from his cheek. “Perhaps he has nothing he wants to speak of. I don’t know what his life was like beyond a few days ago.”

“He’s young,” said Ruby. “He’ll forget his past life, and he’ll speak when he’s ready.”

The man named Blade limped into the kitchen, his presence a dark cloud of thunder that nevertheless did not diminish Ruby’s light.

He had straight black hair that met his shoulders, dark, brooding eyes, and a hawk nose over a harsh mouth. Despite an overall leanness, his arms and chest were well muscled beneath his linen shirt. He could not, however, disguise the pain that she sensed had been a constant companion to him for a very long time.

Airie understood chronic pain. People dealt with it differently. The pain, she suspected, Blade could endure. Its limiting effects, he could not. Sooner or later his lameness would eat away all that he had been and leave nothing but bitterness behind.

What a waste that would be. This was a man whose friendship Hunter valued. Ruby, too, obviously respected him. Airie could help.

He limped to a large chair near the stove and eased himself into it.

“What happened to your leg?” she asked him. Ruby stiffened.

His eyes met Airie’s. “I battled a demon and lost,” he said, his words flat and cold. Dispassionate. “It ate most of my thigh.”

Ruby gasped. “Blade!”

Airie had heard Hunter tell him what she was, and the anger in Blade’s response. She had braced herself for a revelation like this. Not much wonder he hated her and had said he would kill her if he had to.

It did not change the fact that he was suffering and she had the ability to help him.

Scratch slid from the bench and toddled the short distance to Blade. He did not wait for assistance, but climbed onto the man’s lap without invitation. Blade’s surprise and uncertainty as to what to do next defused the tension permeating the room. He did not seem to know what to do with his hands. Wincing, he set them under the little boy’s arms and shifted his weight off his injured leg.

Airie needed to touch Blade in order to determine the extent of his injury, and Scratch had given her an opportunity to get close. That it was an old injury would make repairing it more difficult, although not impossible. It would depend on how willing he was to accept her help.

During her mother’s last days, she had refused help from Airie. She had known she was dying, Airie now knew, and Airie could not cure what nature decreed. Only slow it.

Demons, however, were not natural to this world, and she believed she could heal an injury caused by one. But only if Blade let her.