Black Widow Demon (36 page)

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.

Fear for her drove him to his feet. The heat grew more intense and the siding on the house beside her began to bubble and smolder, curling and shriveling. Blade did not care about the loss of the building, although if it caught fire, the flames could easily spread to the others. He did not want Raven to immolate herself, as she almost had once before.

Justice began to bring the barrel of the rifle around again, and Blade went for a knife, ducking to jerk one from the cuff of his boot. But as he did, Raven rose in a living wall of fire. She walked toward Justice, who threw up an arm to protect his face from the heat. He turned, but there was nowhere for him to go. He was trapped between her and the house. The side of the building erupted in fire, and then Justice’s hair caught, and finally, his clothing. He started to scream.

As far as Blade was concerned, Justice could burn. It was no more than the Godseeker deserved. And Raven had wanted to kill him, which was something she deserved, too.

Blade understood her desire for revenge and was hardly one to cast stones. He did not blame her for it. But if she left Justice to burn to death in a fire she had called from the demon boundary, through her demon abilities, she would regret it for the rest of her life.

Or what was worse, she might not. She did not want to be any more demon than she was. And Blade had made her a promise to keep that from happening.

As Blade threw the knife in his hand, however, aiming for the Godseeker, Raven pulled the fire to her—along with Justice, who was trapped within its flames. The knife embedded itself in the side of the house.

Raven disappeared. She took Justice and the flames with her.

Blade groped for the now-empty chain at his neck. His stomach dropped.

He had no way to follow her.

When she allowed her demon to take control, Raven discovered the fire felt good.

Very good.

And Justice’s screams felt even better.

But in the back of her head she heard Blade. He said he was not afraid of her. He said she was not a demon. And he said he would not let her become one. Using her demon’s abilities against Justice, especially here, would make her no better than he was for using his position of power and greater physical strength to murder her mother.

Scant seconds had passed. There was still time to take command of her demon and stop what was happening.

Lightning cut a bright path across the bleak boundary sky.

The flames died away.

Justice fell on his hands and knees. Most of his clothing had burned away, and raw, red welts and blisters covered his skin, but he was alive and conscious and he would survive. In spite of everything he had done, and what he’d planned to do to her, Raven could not hold back her horror and pity at the sight of what she’d done to him. She discovered it wasn’t that she did not want to be demon. It was that she did not want to become like Justice—cold, hard, and filled with hate.

He knelt with his head hanging low between his shaking shoulders.

“Here,” she said, reaching out a hand to him, intending to help him to his feet so she could take him home. “We’ve only got a few minutes before demons find us.” Already, she could see ominous shadows flickering between the flashes of lightning along the crooked, rocky ridges above them.

Justice jerked away from her touch. He lifted his head and looked at her with a loathing that left her catching her breath. “You’re a spawn and a whore, like your mother. You think you’re too good for mortal men. I hope demons do find you. Then you can whore for them instead. I hope they torture you, and you die screaming beneath them.”

She straightened, stepping back a few paces. There was nothing to be said in response to such hatred or that could change it. He was not the only mortal who would feel this way about her…or any of the other half demons now emerging from hiding.

She tried one last time. “If you don’t let me help you, you’ll die here,” she said. “This part of the boundary belongs to demons. Not even the goddesses can save you.”

“I’d rather die,” Justice said, his fingers plunging into the sand beneath his palms, “than owe any debt to a spawn or run from a demon. At least I’ll die fighting.”

And again, Raven heard Blade’s voice. This time, he told her to walk away.

She was no longer afraid of the demon inside her, or of its abilities, and she called on it freely. She alone governed her choices. She would have no trouble in standing before the goddesses, or anyone else, and defending them. She could come and go from the demon boundary as she wished.

Right now, she wished for Blade. The boundary, the demons, and Justice all disappeared.

The next thing she knew she was safe in Blade’s arms, on the ground, with him covering her as best he could as he shouted to Creed for help.

“I’m an assassin now, Raven,” Creed said. “I belong with the temple, not here.”

A snowfall the previous day had not been enough to block the mountain passes and prevent travel, but it told him that it was too late to start his search for Willow. It would have to wait until spring.

For now he would go back to the temple, meet with Armor, and hope that the new leader would be willing to present a plan of action to the Godseekers that was proactive and involved working with half demons rather than be reactive and based strictly on fears of the unknown. The assassin who had been with Justice in the village confirmed that it was Willow who had summoned the demon, not Raven, because it was now undeniable what Raven was. Much would rely on Seeker and the story he told after that.

Creed stood beside the kitchen table in Raven’s house, packing his belongings while she watched. She sat on the bed with her legs drawn up and her chin propped on her knees. A single ray of sunshine caught her black curls and turned their thin, coppery-red streaks to fire. The room was bright and warm and cheery, and while she did not seem happy enough to please him, she was not unhappy either. She and Blade had a few things to discuss, he was sure, and his presence here hindered that, too.

“I don’t want you to go,” she said.

Creed tightened the last drawstring on his pack. He could not afford to stay any longer. There were more problems cropping up in the world for the Godseekers and assassins to discuss and address. The fate of the demon child had been appalling and could not be blamed entirely on demons. Mortals owned an equal part in this by abandoning children they did not want.

Laws could no longer ignore the innocent. Not if they did not want the innocent to become the vengeful.

But he loved Raven and had watched over her for her entire life. It pained him to walk away again, even though this time he knew she was in much better hands, because she would never again be his to protect. He would not need to worry about her or plan on returning for her. Blade was now responsible for her happiness as well as her life. She didn’t need Creed anymore. Maybe if she knew of their true relationship, things would be different. But it had always seemed safer for her if she did not know of it.

As he looked at her, he wondered if she did know, and if that was why she clung to him when it was Blade she should be turning to.

He set the pack on the floor. “Do you know who I am?” he asked her. “What I am?”

She smiled a little. “I’ve always known who and what you are. You don’t hide your emotions very well. Everything you feel is right there for me to find.”

“Then you should know that I can do more good by working with the assassins and Godseekers than I can here. The world is changing, and we all have to adapt. The problem won’t go away.”

“That doesn’t mean I have to like your leaving,” Raven said.

“I’m not the one you should be worrying about.” Creed let his love for her surface to take the sting from his next words. “I know how men like Blade think. I know his reputation. He’s not used to taking responsibility for other people. Protecting them is a lot harder than killing—and a lot more worrisome. You’re the only one who knows what he feels, even better than he does.” Creed paused for a beat, letting his words sink in. “He’s not searching for happiness. He’s looking for purpose. Justice is gone, and in a few months, the Godseekers’ position will be clear. Even if it’s not what we hope for, there’ll be others here to help defend you, even better than he can. You need to give him a reason to stay. If you don’t, then come spring, he’ll be gone.”

“He has plenty of reasons,” Raven said.

But Creed read the doubt in her eyes. He donned his coat and boots, ruffled her hair, and kissed her cheek, then gathered his belongings and left her to think about what he’d said.

…

While Creed and Raven said their good-byes in private, Blade split firewood behind the house, swinging his ax in a steady rhythm. He did not want to intrude on their final moments together.

Laurel had not yet emerged from shadow, although Walker, who had gone in search of her, seemed to think she was healing. That had been enough to satisfy Raven, taking some of the haunted shadows from her eyes. He expected Creed’s leaving to affect her, but Blade was determined to find a way to ease the nightmares she suffered over what had happened to Justice in the demon boundary. He had not protected her when she’d needed it most. That failure continued to gnaw at him.

As Blade brought the ax down again with another heavy
thud
, the spot between his shoulders began to itch. With a casual movement he shifted his grip on the smooth handle into a throwing hold, dropping his knees and drawing back his arm as he turned. He recognized the boy standing a few yards away from him barely in time to check the release of his weapon.

“It’s me—Roam!” the boy cried, flinging his hands in the air.

Blade rested the ax head on the chopping block and leaned on the long handle. “What brings you here?”

“Raven,” the boy said. “Is she okay?”

Roam’s face was pinched and tired, and he looked much older than he had a few short weeks ago. Blade thought it likely Roam had not fared as well with other spawn as he’d hoped the boy might.

“She’s fine,” he said. “Why wouldn’t she be?”

The boy’s shoulders sagged as if an enormous weight had been lifted from them. “A few days ago, she sent out distress signals that could be heard as far away as the Borderlands. I came as fast as I could.”

Blade had not forgotten that Roam had been the first half demon to find her when she was suffering the effects of the goldthief bite, or that he was not the only one who could track her that way. “How strong were the signals? How many more do you think will be able to locate her?”

“I’m not sure. Her cries didn’t last long, and not everyone who heard them will try to follow them. They’ll either be too afraid or simply indifferent.” Roam stuffed his hands in his pockets and raised his shoulders to his ears against the wind filtering through the trees. “What happened here?” Blade told him, and Roam grew thoughtful. “Do you think the assassins will be back?”

“Yes.” Blade hoped the Godseeker and the others would speak on their behalf, as Creed had promised, and that some sort of peaceful arrangement could be reached. Even though Blade had not been with them long he remembered Armor from his days in the temple, and despite the fact that a Godseeker had been killed, Blade thought the new leader could be reasoned with. Creed would have until spring to try and do so. “We need to prepare for the worst, but it’s possible they’ll be willing to listen and leave this place alone. It’s better to work with them than against them.”

Roam absorbed that, his face serious, then seemed to reach some sort of conclusion.

“Can I stay with you?” he asked. “Just for the winter?”

There were half a dozen villages in the mountains such as this one. If Roam stayed here, eventually he would bring others. But before Blade could open his mouth to respond, Raven interrupted.

“You can stay as long as you like.” She approached them from around the side corner of the house, a warm smile on her lips and in her eyes. Blade’s ribs squeezed his lungs at the sight of her, and her smile shifted to him. With her blazing blue eyes and gleaming skin, she looked far more goddess than demon to him.