He had not thought about Columbine in any great depth since long before her death. She had once been the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, nearly a goddess, and despite the rumors surrounding her daughter’s conception, he had wanted her more than anything, even wealth. But as time passed and he had discovered a demon possessed her affections, his desire for her had turned to disgust, and eventually, hatred. If he had been strong enough to overcome his youthful passion for a goddess, Columbine, too, should have been able to do the same with hers for a demon lover. The only reason Justice had not abandoned her entirely was because of her skill as an artisan and the valuable jewelry she had crafted. When Raven’s skills reached the same level, he’d had no further need of her.
But this unrelenting desire for Raven made him despise himself for a weakness he had thought overcome long ago. That she had found two allies among the Godseeker assassins enraged him further.
Cage suddenly stopped and looked down. He pointed at the faint imprint of a man’s boots, partially erased by windswept snow.
“There,” he said. Disbelief drenched his tone. “The tracks begin out of nowhere.”
They had been following the assassin for more than an hour by now. Justice grunted, but he said nothing to correct him.
As the day wore on, however, and the tracks slowly vanished thanks to the blustering wind, Cage’s tracking abilities became invaluable. He found signs that Justice would never have seen, in part because he anticipated where to look for them.
“The assassin knows how to cover his tracks,” Cage muttered at one point as he swept his hands through a drift, searching for deeper prints that would reveal the direction they needed to pursue.
Near nightfall, they came upon the remains of a camp at the base of a bluff. The ground was well trampled, indicating a prolonged stay, but when they searched, two fresh sets of tracks could be seen heading away. One set was very small and obviously belonged to a woman. Impatience roared in Justice that they were now so close, but as the sun disappeared over the horizon, pursuit was done for the day.
“We’ll have to spend the night here,” he said, “then continue on at first light.” He had not forgotten the burned-out village or that the mountains held dangers other than Blade. It was unwise to go on in the dark. “Can you determine which way they’ve headed?”
Cage scouted the area. He was gone long enough that Justice began to wonder if perhaps the assassin had not abandoned the camp after all but lay in wait for him somewhere close by.
He should have thought of the possibility before.
He shrugged his shoulders deeper into his coat, the flesh between his shoulders crawling, and took a quick glance around. A chunk of frozen snow broke free of the bluff above to glide down the bumpy rock face, startling him, and he dropped one hand to his holster before it hit the ground. A footstep sounded behind him, and he pivoted toward it, pistol in hand.
It was Cage. He held his empty hands up and palms outward.
Justice tucked the weapon back into its holster, feeling foolish and annoyed at being caught acting so edgy, and he opened his mouth to chastise the other man.
Cage moved his finger to his lips, requesting silence.
“We’re being followed,” he said to Justice, his voice quiet.
Justice flexed his hands. He should have been more alert, but his thoughts had been clouded all day. He blamed Creed for this uncharacteristic inattention to danger. It would please the young assassin if Justice failed to find Raven—or return to the temple. Suspicion raised icy hackles.
What if the two assassins had joined forces against him?
“How many?” he asked Cage, keeping his voice equally soft.
Cage’s thin, ferret-like face creased into a frown. “I don’t know for certain.”
That was not encouraging news. They had a drop-off on one side and were trapped by the sheer mountain bluff on the other. Their only escape route lay back the way they had come. If they chose to leave, they might be walking into an ambush. Here, they at least had a strong defensive position.
“We wait,” Justice decided. “Whoever is out there, let them come to us.”
They did not wait long. From around the bluff a lone woman strode toward them, blue flame pirouetting on her palms.
The flame arced, and a ring of blue fire erupted, trapping the two men inside.
…
Raven heard Blade’s warning shout. When she saw him running, she didn’t hesitate. She snatched up her bow and broke from the water’s edge to sprint in a half crouch toward him.
A ripple disturbed the air as a bullet tore over her head, followed by the percussive crack of Blade’s rifle. Then something slammed into her back and knocked her face down to the ground.
A sharp rock jabbed into her breastbone, and although her heavy layer of clothing provided some cushioning, the pressure shot pain through her chest. Another shot rang out. Dirt sprayed her face as the bullet dragged a furrow through the ground next to her head. She did not doubt Blade was an excellent shot and wasted no time worrying that he might strike her by accident. She was far more afraid of being pinned to the ground by an unknown opponent.
She threw her hands up and grabbed her assailant by the back of the neck, hauling his head down beside hers. He tried to punch her in the kidneys, which had little effect since he could not put any strength behind the blows from his current head-locked position. Her clothing offered added protection. Raven struggled to get to her knees, hoping to roll her assailant over her shoulder and away from her to give Blade a better, unimpeded shot at him.
The ground was slick with dead, sodden leaves, making it hard to keep her balance as she tried to shift position. An arm snaked around her waist, flipping her with unexpected strength, so that she became, in effect, a shield. Another arm went about her neck, pressing into her throat.
At once, Raven changed tactics. She went limp, dragging her opponent back to the ground so that Raven was facedown against it, and tried to draw on her demon allure. The shadows moved closer, drawn to the allure she emitted, but they did not solidify completely as a true demon would. Her heart raced.
Where was Blade?
Another rifle report answered her question, and explained why the shadows had not completely taken their mortal forms. As long as they did not, Blade’s bullets would pass through them and they could not be harmed.
The forearm tightened against her throat. “Stand back!” a voice near her ear said sharply to the shadows.
Surprise shuddered through Raven. Her assailant was a woman, not a man.
The woman was also afraid, her hold trembling slightly—but of what, Raven remained uncertain. The thoughts bombarding her were chaotic, scattered and ill formed, as if their owner had been under a great deal of intense and prolonged stress. One thing Raven understood quite well, however. The woman intended to kill her. All that saved her life right now was Blade’s rifle fire.
She tried to calm her own thoughts and come up with a plan. She could not see Blade because her face remained pressed against the half-frozen ground, but the shots told her he was very close. If the shadow people went for him, he would have no defense against them. That meant she had to keep them near her…and distracted. Allure might not work on the woman holding her, but it would keep the males away from Blade.
“Release your hold on them or I’ll break your neck,” the woman snapped in her ear.
Raven flung her arms above and behind her, taking her own two-handed grip on her attacker’s nape. The assailant had strength in her favor, nothing more. She did not know how to fight, and her hold on Raven’s throat was insufficient for the leverage required to carry out such an action.