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.
Chapter Twenty-One
“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.”