had expected the scent of the sand swift’s blood to drive Airie into a demon’s frenzy. Instead, she had saved the creature’s life.
Something about this was not right.
He wondered how a priestess, selected for service to the goddesses because of her plainness, had incited the lust of a demon. Her advanced age, ill health, and scarred face might have concealed the fact that she was beautiful in her youth, but she would already have been middle-aged by the time Airie was conceived.
Certainty had him gripping the reins tighter. He ducked his head to avoid a low branch, edging it aside so it would not strike Airie behind him. The priestess had lied to him, but about what, and for what purpose?
That Airie believed the priestess to be her mother, he did not dispute. That meant the priestess had lied to her as well.
Mamna, too, had undoubtedly lied to him.
He had no idea what to do next.
The heat from her clasped hands spread through his abdomen. When he turned his head, the fresh, feminine scent of her skin and hair engulfed him and made him ache in a way he could scarcely believe. One cheek rested on his shoulder, her weight against him suggesting she was close to sleep and implying a level of trust, however slight.
Guilt gnawed at him. He pushed it away. He was the Demon Slayer and she was part demon. If she trusted him it was because she had no one else to turn to, not because he had given her reason. He had no cause to trust her either.
Except that she saved Sally’s life , his conscience rebuked him. And she loved her mother. As much as he wanted to, he could not deny that.
He could not wait to be rid of her.
They continued down the mountain in silence.
When the first fingers of dawn streaked the sky red, they came to a better-traveled path at the foot of the mountain. There, the land leveled off and the forest thinned. Hunter had avoided this path on his way to the temple, uninterested in passing through civilization.
He was interested now. What he had lost on the mountain had been necessities for travel, and he had to replace them.
“Where does this path lead?” he asked Airie, tossing the words over his shoulder.
“To a trading post.” She straightened behind him. “I don’t want to go there.”
“Why not?” Hunter asked. Fatigue and frustration, as well as hours of awkward awareness of her pressed against him, sparked an already short temper. “Tried to sell them something you stole and got caught at it?”
“Yes.”
That single syllabic response stopped him and made him wonder. What was the real reason she wanted to avoid the place? Even if it involved danger, her reason didn’t matter. He had no choice. It was not safe to travel to Freetown without adequate supplies either. Settlements were few and far between, and the few there were, were heavily fortified. Walls did not keep demons out, but they did manage to keep out other mortals. Mortals on the outside meant demons did not need to bother with those inside.
“Would anyone at this trading post recognize you?” he asked, although they would have to be blind and stupid if they could not. She was unusually tall and very beautiful, and she carried herself like a goddess.
Or a demon.
She considered the question a few seconds before replying. “I don’t know,” she said. “I always went dressed as a boy.”
“Then this time, you’ll go as a woman. We won’t be there long. But while we are, you’re to do exactly as I tell you.”
“I’d rather wait here for you.” She made a move as if to slip from the saddle, but he reached back and grabbed her hip to stop her.
“I don’t think so.” She did not seem to understand that she was his prisoner and he could not let her out of his sight. The world had enough problems without another demon on the loose, especially one who was not at all what she seemed.
“I’m not used to riding,” she insisted. “I’m tired.”
The weary crack in her voice almost swayed him. Then he
Something about this was not right.
He wondered how a priestess, selected for service to the goddesses because of her plainness, had incited the lust of a demon. Her advanced age, ill health, and scarred face might have concealed the fact that she was beautiful in her youth, but she would already have been middle-aged by the time Airie was conceived.
Certainty had him gripping the reins tighter. He ducked his head to avoid a low branch, edging it aside so it would not strike Airie behind him. The priestess had lied to him, but about what, and for what purpose?
That Airie believed the priestess to be her mother, he did not dispute. That meant the priestess had lied to her as well.
Mamna, too, had undoubtedly lied to him.
He had no idea what to do next.
The heat from her clasped hands spread through his abdomen. When he turned his head, the fresh, feminine scent of her skin and hair engulfed him and made him ache in a way he could scarcely believe. One cheek rested on his shoulder, her weight against him suggesting she was close to sleep and implying a level of trust, however slight.
Guilt gnawed at him. He pushed it away. He was the Demon Slayer and she was part demon. If she trusted him it was because she had no one else to turn to, not because he had given her reason. He had no cause to trust her either.
Except that she saved Sally’s life , his conscience rebuked him. And she loved her mother. As much as he wanted to, he could not deny that.
He could not wait to be rid of her.
They continued down the mountain in silence.
When the first fingers of dawn streaked the sky red, they came to a better-traveled path at the foot of the mountain. There, the land leveled off and the forest thinned. Hunter had avoided this path on his way to the temple, uninterested in passing through civilization.
He was interested now. What he had lost on the mountain had been necessities for travel, and he had to replace them.
“Where does this path lead?” he asked Airie, tossing the words over his shoulder.
“To a trading post.” She straightened behind him. “I don’t want to go there.”
“Why not?” Hunter asked. Fatigue and frustration, as well as hours of awkward awareness of her pressed against him, sparked an already short temper. “Tried to sell them something you stole and got caught at it?”
“Yes.”
That single syllabic response stopped him and made him wonder. What was the real reason she wanted to avoid the place? Even if it involved danger, her reason didn’t matter. He had no choice. It was not safe to travel to Freetown without adequate supplies either. Settlements were few and far between, and the few there were, were heavily fortified. Walls did not keep demons out, but they did manage to keep out other mortals. Mortals on the outside meant demons did not need to bother with those inside.
“Would anyone at this trading post recognize you?” he asked, although they would have to be blind and stupid if they could not. She was unusually tall and very beautiful, and she carried herself like a goddess.
Or a demon.
She considered the question a few seconds before replying. “I don’t know,” she said. “I always went dressed as a boy.”
“Then this time, you’ll go as a woman. We won’t be there long. But while we are, you’re to do exactly as I tell you.”
“I’d rather wait here for you.” She made a move as if to slip from the saddle, but he reached back and grabbed her hip to stop her.
“I don’t think so.” She did not seem to understand that she was his prisoner and he could not let her out of his sight. The world had enough problems without another demon on the loose, especially one who was not at all what she seemed.
“I’m not used to riding,” she insisted. “I’m tired.”
The weary crack in her voice almost swayed him. Then he
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