Paula Altenburg - Black Widow Demon

Despite Blade’s worry for her, and Laurel’s motionless form, the demon remained his highest priority. He pushed his emotions aside and focused on the practical. Raven was all that held it in mortal form. It could not be allowed to gain freedom.

Walker materialized not far from him. He raised the rifle and would have fired on Justice if Blade had not dived for him, grabbed his arm, and wrenched the weapon from his hands.

“Self-defense only,” Blade reminded him. “Don’t make an enemy of the Godseekers and their assassins. You have to think of your future, not just this moment. Raven protects Laurel better than we can right now. We need to make certain no harm comes to her, because if that demon escapes her, we’re all dead.” He set the weapon aside, propping it against the wall of the house. “You have to trust that I’ll do my best for both of them,” he added. “Can you do that?”

Slowly, and with grudging reluctance, Walker nodded.

“Good.” Blade clapped him on the shoulder and turned his attention back to the demon.

From the corner of his eye, Blade saw the black-haired demon woman begin backing away, then turn to run. He had no choice but to let her go and hope that Creed and the assassins in the surrounding area would somehow intercept her. If she had any skills that might regain control of the demon she’d raised, she did not appear inclined to use them to help Justice.

The assassin stood back to watch Raven and the demon she held, and also Justice. He had noticed that things were not right, Blade thought, and was considering everything, which was good. Whatever Justice had told him, he no longer believed it. But he still remained a threat to Raven and Laurel.

“I want you to shift to shadow and work your way around to the tall one with the knives,” Blade said to Walker. “When I give you a signal, I want you to stop him. I don’t want you to kill him. Just hold him. That’s important,” he added. “You can’t kill either of these men. If you do, you’ll be hunted like an animal and treated worse than one if you’re caught. You’ll be made an example. Do you understand me?”

Walker nodded again.

Since Blade could not see him once he shifted to shadow, he gave Walker to the count of fifty to move into position behind the assassin. Then Blade came at the scorched circle of earth perpendicular to where Walker should be, his knives flying from his hands with precision. The freckled assassin staggered but remained on his feet, wounded but not grievously so, and Blade ducked to the side, barely in time to avoid the answering knife flung past his own face. A second followed it to graze his arm, tearing his coat sleeve. He had no idea if it hit flesh or not. Too much adrenaline coursed through him to feel it if it had.

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.

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.”