Walker took solid form from the shadows behind the assassin. One arm went around the freckled man’s throat while his free hand pressed a knife to it.
Blade ran into the blackened circle. He saw the strain on Raven’s face and the fire that burned out of control in the depths of her blazing eyes. The heat generating from her pores made it impossible for him to approach her. She had almost destroyed herself trying to contain it once before. She had released it only when she believed it posed a danger to him.
He had to get closer so she could see the potential for harm and remember how she had fought it.
Laurel moved then, and struggled to her feet, but she was unable to remain fully upright. She had one hand pressed to the hilt of a knife protruding from her abdomen, and blood seeped from between her fingers. From years of experience, Blade knew it unlikely she would survive the wound.
Justice toed the edge of the circle but did not enter it.
“You’re an assassin, in lifetime service to the goddesses,” he said to Blade. He pointed to Raven, then the demon. “She’s raised it. You have a duty to kill them both.”
His words were not intended for him, Blade knew. The Godseeker wanted the assassin with him to understand that Blade’s vows had been broken, and it was not the goddesses he now served.
But Blade had never made such a vow. He served only his conscience.
“She has not raised a demon!” Laurel cried out, her eyes fierce on Blade despite the pain she had to be suffering. She tried to position herself between him and Raven, as if to protect her.
The action pierced him. Even as injured as Laurel was, she felt the need to defend Raven from him. Did she truly believe he was that cold and cruel? That he could harm her?
He had always prided himself on being a man of his word because it was all the honor he could guarantee, even if only to himself. He did not give it lightly, or often. He would die before ever allowing anything to happen to Raven. To live knowing he’d failed her was impossible.
Raven had not taken her eyes from Justice, and Blade had no doubt that if an opportunity presented itself, she would kill him. He could not allow her to do it this way, when her demon was so out of control and dominant. Even she did not want that. Yet he could not get close enough to her to help dampen the flames either.
Laurel, however, was already too close, and in grave danger both from the flames and of bleeding to death. He could think of only one way to resolve this situation, and it was not an option he wanted to use. While he did not care for his own sake, killing Justice would bring trouble on them all.
Then he saw in Raven’s fiery eyes that she had come to a conclusion of her own, and it was one he wanted even less. His heart tripled its beats.
Because she planned to summon her father.
Chapter Twenty
Creed got as close to the Godseeker as he dared before revealing himself. Seeker crouched on his heels beneath a crooked juniper, a rifle across his knees, as vigilant as he could be considering the circumstances. One assassin was with him, a man named Griffin who Creed knew well. The remaining assassins had fanned out but remained within easy shouting range. He knew them, too. More importantly, they knew Creed—and that he had left the Temple after taking orders from Siege.
Creed stepped from the trees with his hands in the air. A twig snapped beneath one of his boots, and the barrel of Seeker’s rifle swung in his direction.
“Who’s there?” Seeker demanded, peering into the darkness.
“Creed,” he replied. “Griffin knows me. I was sent by Siege to find one of the women in the village you’re watching.” He moved a little closer, but with caution. “We need to talk. Things aren’t right here. Justice—”
He heard a rustling in the bushes before the other two men did.
And then the night spit out a tiny demon.
It leaped straight for the assassin guarding the Godseeker, all long claws and razor-sharp teeth. Griffin shrieked as he went down beneath it, terrible sounds that sent shudders through Creed, who had thought he was immune to horror.
Seeker fired a shot with his rifle at point-blank range, but the bullet hit bone plating and ricocheted into the night. The demon crouched over Griffin’s body, blood dripping down its jowls. There was something not right about it, Creed could see. It was too small and oddly formed—almost childlike in appearance.
Creed moved between the demon and Seeker, prepared to protect the Godseeker.
The black-haired woman who had been with Justice came out of the darkness. As she approached, the demon shifted to mortal form, revealing a small, naked child—a little boy with a twisted and deformed body. His hair hung wild in long, dirty, matted clumps, but even in the dark, Creed could see the unnatural beauty of his face. It was plain that the child was feral. Creed’s heart twisted in horrified pity.
The woman stroked the boy’s head. “I warned Justice that I don’t travel alone,” she said to them. “He chose not to believe me, and now you might be a few assassins short. There are more where this one came from. Remember that if you try to follow us.” She looked at Creed. “Tell your friends you’re either with me or against me.” She smiled at Seeker. “Tell yours that your goddess has come and that you’re either with me or against me, too.”
The pair slipped away, leaving Creed speechless.
“You’re right,” Seeker said from behind him. He sounded as grim and horrified as Creed felt. “We do need to talk. But first, let’s go find the others.”
…
Blade could not stop Raven from summoning her father. Instead, he dug deep and drew on the piece of the boundary by the sea he had created for her from his imagination. It was not large, just a simple patch of beach that was big enough to encompass Raven, the demon she held, Laurel, and Justice. Blade had managed to exclude Walker and the assassin.
But it was enough. And barely in time.
Raven’s father appeared. In full demon form, he made the patch of beach seem even smaller. His attention was not on his daughter or the demon she held, but rather, the mortals around them. He sniffed the air, then looked at Laurel, his eyes drawn to the blood seeping from the knife wound to form a widening pool.
Behind Raven and the demon she continued to hold in its mortal form, the sea’s waves surged in uproar, spinning and crashing against the shoreline. The turmoil in this particular piece of boundary reflected his emotions, Blade realized with a jolt, because it came from inside him. He buried his feelings, and as they steadied, the waters calmed.
“Release the fire into the demon boundary,” Blade said to Raven.
The fire inside her died away as he had hoped it would. Awareness struck him, crystal clear and bright. Her greatest demon strength posed no danger to the mortal world, as he had once assumed it would before he came to know her so well. Her strength was in the way she used her demon to defend and protect those she loved.
Raven dropped to her knees beside the injured woman and took her hand. Even though she was no longer touching it, the demon could not yet shift back to demon form. The tiny piece of boundary that Blade had drawn on was too small for it to escape Raven’s allure. It turned on Blade.
Blade went for a knife, the smooth, practiced throw catching the demon in its heart. It went down, and he did not need to wait to see if it was dead but sprinted the short distance to Justice because Raven’s father was now advancing on him.
The Godseeker paled but stood his ground. Blade gave him grudging credit. Whatever else he might be, he was not a coward.