“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.
Her stepfather’s death had not harmed her. Being half demon did not diminish her. It brought out all that was best of her mortality. Blade was so ordinary by comparison. What had he done in his life to deserve someone such as her?
Even Roam appeared dazed. “I’ll be no trouble, I promise,” he said to her.
“Of course you won’t. Will he, Blade?”
She turned to him with the sun and the moon and the promise of every hope he’d ever had shining from her eyes, and any thoughts other than of her left his head.
“No,” he managed to say.
“If you want to come inside, I’ll find you something to eat,” Raven said to the boy. “After that, we’ll introduce you to the others.”
She gave a little wave of her hand to Blade, then led Roam indoors.
Blade went back to splitting wood, and his ability to think returned to him.
Other spawn would be coming. It was inevitable, just as she had predicted. He did not like feeling inferior to them or want to seem that way in her eyes. He had spent too many years as a cripple, fighting every day to prove, if only to himself, that he was no less of a man because of it. He would not spend the rest of his life trying to prove himself worthy to others. Not even for Raven.
Which meant he did not have much to offer her other than his love.
If it was not enough—if it would never be enough—then he would return to the goddess boundary in the spring and he would cross it. When he did, he would not return.
…
“Where are we going?” Raven asked.
“A place we can be alone and uninterrupted.”
Blade had been acting strangely all day, and after the things Creed had said that morning, it worried her. So shortly before dusk, and at Blade’s urging, she followed him out of the village to climb a small, overgrown path he had discovered in the woods. He held her hand, something he only ever did when they were alone. Although he would never admit it, or perhaps did not realize it, he used touch to communicate emotions to her that he found too complex to articulate.
He was not a man who displayed strong emotion, yet right now, he was deeply troubled.
They reached a tiny clearing. Through the snow-tipped tree boughs and broken rock, she could see the rooftops of the village houses below them. Narrow streams of smoke from three of the chimneys puffed straight upward before dissipating into the quiet air. From here, the approaches to the village could be monitored from three different angles.
Raven’s heart beat so fast it left her light-headed. Whatever he wished to say to her, he believed it wasn’t up for discussion.
Hurt blindsided her. He did not wish to be with her anymore. She had proven herself more demon than he could accept. She had truly begun to believe that it did not matter to him. She had thought he loved her even though he could not say the words, that all he needed was time to come to terms with it. He had so little experience with positive feelings he did not seem able to recognize or trust them.
But she had already given up Creed and accepted that he had greater responsibilities, and people who needed him more. She was not going to be as understanding of Blade if he tried to leave her too.
She extricated her hand from his, refusing to make this easy for him. He would have to speak, not rely on her interpretation of his emotions to convey his meaning. She was having enough difficulty dealing with emotions of her own.
He reached for her hand again, his broad shoulders blocking the view of the village, but she stepped away and hid it behind her back. The hem of her skirt caught on some brambles, and she bent to dislodge it. Then she stood to face him.