He crossed the narrow compound to the showers.
Their entrance was carved from the valley’s natural rock walls. The entire temple existed as a series of such rooms, interconnected and flowing from one to the other. Each had an entry from the compound outside, as well, leaving everything open and giving the inhabitants very little privacy and no opportunity to keep secrets.
Low ceiling lighting flashed on in response to Creed passing through the door. At this time of the morning, when most men were at breakfast, the showers were usually empty. And yet as he entered, although he saw no one, he knew at once that he was not alone.
Creed had demon skills other than fighting that he did not hesitate to call upon when needed. He had always deflected attention from himself and influenced the thoughts of others with ease, making himself almost completely invisible if he wished. He also had a sixth sense for other half demons.
Those skills were growing too.
In the corner of the room, near shelves stacked with towels, he spied a teenage boy in grimy clothes who stared around the room trying to figure out where Creed had gone. The boy had no weapons on him, at least none to be seen. Neither did Creed sense that he meant any harm, although there was an overriding sense of urgency to him.
Creed crossed the room in a few long, silent strides, reached down to take the boy by the scruff of his ragged coat, and jerked him to his feet. “Are you crazy, coming here like this?” he asked. “Do you have any idea what will happen to you if you’re discovered?”
The boy’s eyes were wide and cautious, but also determined.
“I need your help,” he said.
Creed had to laugh. “You’ve come to the wrong place for that, my friend. Assassins work for Godseekers. They aren’t going to help a half demon.”
“Not help from assassins. I need it from you,” the boy said. He wiggled around inside his coat so that Creed’s hold on it did not strangle him. “And it’s not for me. It’s for Raven.”
Creed felt the smile fade from his lips at the mention of her name. The floor in the open showers was damp and slick with moisture, and he adjusted his footing so that he would not lose his hold on the interloper or be thrown off balance by him. “What’s wrong with her?”
He listened in disbelief as he learned of the judgment against her and her subsequent escape.
“What makes you think I can help her?” he asked. In fact, he couldn’t. He could not simply leave the temple without repercussion. She would understand that. He had to believe she’d learned something of survival from him.
“There’s a connection between you. She trusts you. Tracing you through her was easy.”
They did have a connection. One he had no wish for anyone to discover and had gone to great lengths to hide. Creed’s worry for her increased. Raven did not deflect attention, as he did. Instead, she drew it to herself, and usually in worrisome ways. If her talents had increased as much as Roam’s ability to find her suggested, and she could be traced back to Creed through them, she would bring trouble upon them both.
Creed needed to think.
“Who are you? And how did you get here?” he asked the boy.
“My name is Roam. I traveled here through the boundary.”
This was another revelation that caught Creed off guard. Hidden within the Godseeker Mountains, and protected by the temple, lay a boundary that the goddesses had put in place a long time ago in an attempt to confine demons to the desert regions of the mortal world. That boundary had remained impenetrable, even after the goddesses were forced from the world by the Demon Lord. What the boy said was impossible.
And yet, here he was.
“No demon could cross that boundary,” Creed said. “Not even a half demon. The goddesses saw to that.”
“The boundary is immortal,” the boy insisted. “If the goddesses can use it, why would it be impossible for demons, who are also immortal, to use it too?”
Creed ran a hand up the nape of his shaven head. Heat thrummed through the phoenix tattooed on his back and along his shoulders. He did not know what the tattoo represented, if anything—only that it had appeared with the departure of the demons and was not something noticed by others. He was changing. So were others like him.
So was the world.
“Why do you care what happens to her?” Creed asked. “Why involve yourself in someone else’s problems?”
“There’s safety in numbers, and half demons are already banding together.”
Creed did not like the sound of that. “What do you mean?”
“Our talents are no longer as easy to hide. We’re no longer welcome. We make people nervous.” The boy shrugged. “We’ve got nowhere to go. Together, we can at least protect ourselves.”
He studied the boy. A plan began to formulate.
“If you help me, I will help you,” Creed said. “I need you to deliver a message for me.”
Chapter Four
Without food and adequate clothing, Raven could not get far.
Justice slid from the back of his hross and tossed the reins to one of the young stable hands. His leg throbbed fiercely where she had stabbed him, although he would never admit it out loud. Weakness was not to be tolerated.
Raven had made him look weak enough.
“Hold its head steady,” he instructed the boy, then bent to lift the hross’s front leg. He brushed aside long black feathers to explore the fetlock with his fingers. As he’d suspected, the joint was hot and inflamed.
He straightened, dusting his hands on his leather chaps as he did so. The long-legged, barrel-chested hross, suited for both drayage and riding, was a favorite. It would have carried him until it dropped of exhaustion rather than pull up lame.
“Wrap its leg and see that it rests,” he said. The boy nodded, then led the enormous animal off to the stable.
The other men in his search party had dismounted to join those who had already returned. All were awaiting his orders.
Justice considered his options. They had been up the entire night, which meant there was little point in sending them into the mines today. They were too tired to work. On the other hand, keeping them together would no doubt be wise. He could not risk taking a chance that Raven might convince one of the men to help her if he allowed them to go their separate ways. But neither could he risk rebellion by not letting them rest. Even though he was a Godseeker, his leadership in Goldrush was still precarious. The town was too new, and its inhabitants numbered less than two hundred—the majority of them men, all of whom would be susceptible to Raven’s demon charms.
“Until she’s captured, no man is safe from her,” Justice said to the gathered men. “Go home for now. If you see her, send word to me. Don’t approach her alone. Don’t let her touch you. If she does, she’ll claim your soul.” He relaxed his face into an expression of profound sorrow. “I’m sorry for bringing this trouble to your lives. This is my problem, and I’ll be the one to resolve it.”
Murmurs of sympathy swept through the crowd. It went without saying that women remained the responsibility of their men—even if they were spawn.
The men dispersed. Those who had already seen to their hross headed for home, fatigue and worry etched on their faces. Despite the fact that the immortals were gone from the world, demons had plagued mortal men for too many years for them to be comfortable with the thought of spawn taking root in their midst.
Justice walked the short distance to his own home, ignoring the pain in his thigh and tilting his hat to better shield his wind-burned face from the searing rays of the late-morning sun. Soon enough, the days would grow cold. Regardless, the mines would be fully productive long before winter. The men who had followed him to this new settlement were the best miners he could find, and the mines themselves well constructed and relatively safe. Security, both financial and physical, bred loyalty in people.