The Demon Creed (A Demon Outlaws Novel) (Entangled Edge) (22 page)

“I have something for you now.” She snapped her hand shut. “I have the boy’s name.”

…

The Borderlands were nothing at all like the mountains Creed and Nieve had left far behind them.

The road to Hunter’s homestead was little more than twin, well-worn wagon ruts that cut through miles of grassland. The ruts veered off at various points to lead to other ranches along the route. To one side, Creed saw dark, humped masses that indicated scattered kyson herds grazing.

Back in the Old World days, this land had been heavily settled. Those original cities had been some of the first to be destroyed by the arrival of demons. Now this vast, rich-soiled land was filled with emptiness.

And also opportunity
, Creed thought, looking around him at all the potential.
For the right type of man
.

But it would burn just as easily today, if not more so, because of the endless miles of fertile grasslands.

As they rode, Creed told Hunter as much as he knew of Willow, and who she had with her, which was little enough.

“Her companions are young but dangerous, and will do as she says. She seems to be gathering children who’ve been abandoned by parents and families who fear them, and is raising them to be demons,” he finished.

“Not demons,” Nieve spoke up from behind him. Her hands bunched in the waist of his shirt. “That little girl at the tea shop thinks of Willow as her mother. Don’t you see what she’s doing? She’s teaching them to prepare for the future, and how to survive, just as you say your sister Raven and her companion are teaching others.”

Hunter looked at Creed, his eyebrows raised in an unspoken query, as if seeking confirmation of Nieve’s assessment.

“It’s no doubt true,” Creed agreed, although he could hardly imagine a less motherly woman than Willow. Since his own had not been overwhelmingly maternal, he was not in the best position to judge. Nieve’s opinion was as good as any, and most likely better than his. “There’s one more thing.”

“There always is.” Hunter sighed as if he knew what was coming.

“Willow is following us. She has no compassion for anyone weaker than she is. She’ll burn Cottonwood Fall to the ground. She’ll kill everyone in it. And she’ll want the Godseekers to know that she defeated the Demon Slayer.”

He watched Hunter work it all out in his head. He slouched in his saddle, allowing the sand swift to make its own way. Its tongue flicked out to curl around a small gray bird hidden in the grass at the side of the trail.

“I don’t want Airie to know these are children we’ll be fighting. Not while she’s got two of her own to think about. She has enough to worry over as it is,” Hunter said.

Creed wondered if he truly understood the complexity of the situation. The dangers. These were not normal children. “I was hoping she could help.”

“She’s due any day now. How do you propose she fight demons?” Hunter asked. “I have to help put her shoes on.”

“She has no demon talents to protect her?”

“She has plenty. None of them change the fact that she’s nine months pregnant. With my baby,” Hunter added. “She’s not to be involved.”

“I guess it’s up to you and me, then,” Creed said. “I hope your demon slaying abilities haven’t gotten too rusty.” He regretted the words as soon as he uttered them. Nieve’s fingers tightened when he made reference to slaying, and she sat a bit straighter in the saddle as if attempting to put distance between them.

Hunter was quiet for a few moments more. “These aren’t demons,” he said. “I don’t respond to sp…half demons in quite the same way.” He looked at Nieve, although his words were addressed to Creed. “I didn’t react when she began shooting fire back in town.”

“She’s not half demon,” Creed told him for the second time. He hesitated. He could not get past the strangeness of openly discussing something he had spent so many years denying. “The fire comes from me.”

A large gate was in sight now, straight ahead of them, looming over the horizon. Beyond the gate could be seen a scattering of tidy buildings, and an enormous wooden-railed paddock that held a few head of restless young hross. A tiny figure sat on the top railing, watching their approach.

“I see.” Hunter shifted the reins from one hand to the other, thinking. “What other talents do you have?”

“I’m friendly,” Creed said. “Everyone likes me.”

“I’d rather they feared you. Anything else?”

“I can shift to full demon form.”

“That talent I can use.” Hunter eyed him. “And you can manipulate demon fire. That should come in handy, too.”

“No,” Creed said. “Fire is Nieve’s protection, not mine. She claims it through me.”

“Then we’ve got a problem,” Hunter said. “Our only defenses are mortal weapons and I don’t—”

He interrupted his own words, nudging the sand swift to pick up speed as the small figure on the railing made a dangerous leap to the ground.

The tiny figure—a young boy, Creed could see—stumbled over his feet, righted himself, and came hurtling up the trail toward them with his little legs churning and his arms pumping hard.

Behind Creed, Nieve sucked in a sharp breath. She would have thrown herself off the hross if Creed hadn’t caught her arm and lowered her, with greater caution, from the saddle to the ground. As soon as her feet touched the dirt she, too, began to run.

Creed could not imagine what had possessed her. Then, with a heavy weight compressing his ribs, he noted the boy’s blond head and his age, and feared that Nieve had made a false assumption. It was only natural that she would see her son’s face in every boy who was the right age and coloring. Confusion and disappointment were bound to occur. He couldn’t protect her from emotions.

“I’m sorry,” Creed began, beginning to explain her behavior to Hunter, “but Nieve lost her son and I’m afraid—”

His voice trailed off. Something was wrong. Hunter’s expression had gone grim. Nieve was in tears. The boy had his arms tight around her neck, and was not fighting off the kisses she showered on his beaming face.

Nieve had made no mistake. She knew who this boy she held was. It was equally plain that he recognized her, too.

A woman had come to the door of the log house to stand on the long verandah running its width. She was tall, with long black hair that fell to her hips, and with the exception of Nieve, was without a doubt the most beautiful woman Creed had ever seen. She was also heavily pregnant.

This had to be Airie. He had always thought of her in terms of her demon blood. That she was half goddess, too, was equally obvious. Kindness radiated from her.

At the moment, so did concern. She surveyed the scene in the yard. She saw Hunter and Creed. She saw Nieve on her knees in the dirt with the little boy in her arms. She turned to Hunter with a hint of panic in her eyes.

“What’s going on?” Airie asked.

But she knew. Creed could see it in the way the panic spread to her face, and how her hands fluttered to her breast.

Hunter slid from the sand swift’s back, one hand on its reins to keep it under control as it reacted to the woman’s distress.

“I think we all need to talk,” he said.

Creed, too, dismounted. He started for Nieve, reaching out to place a hand on her shoulder and get her attention.

Nieve, however, flinched away from his touch. She swung the child out of his range, placing her body between them, as if she thought Creed intended to harm him in some way. Fear flared in her eyes when she looked up at Creed, then a fierce, angry, determined protectiveness. “Stay away from him!”

Along the connection between them, already tenuous and strained for weeks now, Creed felt a searing pain.

Chapter Seventeen

Somehow, Creed set the hurt aside. They had more important matters to settle than Nieve’s rejection of him.

The boy broke and ran.

Nieve would have pursued him if Creed had not caught hold of her wrist to stop her. She lashed out, a small fist pummeling him with all her strength as she fought to free herself.

The threat of tears he saw in her eyes, and the fear that her son was being taken from her again, were the fists that struck him the hardest. His chest ached to think that she did not trust him.

Creed swallowed hard and refused to release her. He could hardly unleash this mad, desperate woman on a confused child. She’d not get the reaction from her son she was hoping for. He’d let her wear herself out before he tried to reason with her, although he doubted if anything would make her listen right now. She had found her son. She was not about to let him go again without a fight, and it was Creed she chose to vent her frustrations on.

When she finally showed signs of tiring, he drew her to him and held her. By now, the boy had disappeared into the barn.

“Let him go,” Creed said into her ear. “Give him some space. He’ll be back when he’s ready. Until then we have a lot of things to discuss.”

Hunter had an arm around his wife, but it was Nieve he addressed. “Creed is right. Scratch is fine. He won’t go very far.”

“His name is
Asher
.”

Nieve’s chest heaved as she renewed her efforts to gain her freedom, pushing at Creed’s arms in an attempt to break his hold, but he did not relent. Neither did he try to calm her distress, but allowed her to come to terms with her emotions on her own. She had waited a long time for this moment. She’d begun to believe it might never come.

He was not above using her love for her son against her.

“Stop thinking of yourself and what you want, and have some regard for what he must be going through right now,” Creed said. “He hasn’t seen you in over a year. He barely knows you. Let him come to you when he’s ready.”

“Bastard,” Nieve whispered. But she stopped struggling and leaned against him, pressing her cheek to his chest, closing her eyes as if drained. He tightened his hold on her, wishing there was more he could do, but it was too soon to make her promises he might not be able to keep.

Airie had remained silent throughout. She looked anxious now, and tired, and Creed knew that upsetting her was no way to win Hunter’s support, but far worse was coming. Willow would not be too far behind them.

Hunter rested a hand on his wife’s swollen belly as if to reassure himself that both she and the baby were safe. “Let’s go inside.”

The log house was well-constructed and spoke of generations of hard work and affluence. The Demon Slayer’s family had not been idle in the centuries since the demon occupation began.

They gathered at the long kitchen table. Hunter pulled back a chair next to the window for Nieve so that she could watch the barn for signs of her son, a thoughtful gesture that Creed silently thanked him for and that Hunter acknowledged with a brief nod.

In return, as Creed took a seat beside Nieve, he allowed Hunter to tell Airie what he wanted her to know of the events that had transpired in town without interruption. It did not include any stories of children.

As it turned out, he did not need to tell her. She’d already heard the rumors. And she’d drawn her own conclusions.

“There won’t be as many mixed blood demons as you think,” Airie said to Creed. Of the four of them, they were the two people who knew exactly what it was they were facing. What their instincts would be. “If the mother is part demon, the demon in her won’t willingly tolerate carrying a child of mixed blood to full term. The baby is unlikely to survive unless its demon side is stronger than hers.”

Creed watched from the corner of his eye as Hunter turned that information over in his head. He saw when understanding hit him, and he cast his wife a sharp look.

“You should have told me,” he said to her. “That’s what’s been keeping you awake at nights, isn’t it?”

“Not at all,” she assured him. “Ours is a little more active than most babies, but she has two full immortals for protection. My parents will allow nothing to happen to her.”

Hunter was not appeased. It was clear he did not like that his wife had kept something from him. Creed was about to step in, wanting the conversation focused back on the danger that was coming, but Nieve interrupted first.

“A baby born to a mortal mother who survives the birth can’t possibly be a monster, can he?” She looked at Creed, and he felt the hope blossoming in her. “Your mother survived and you aren’t a monster,” she said to him. “Neither is your—” She caught herself before she said
sister
, and the stricken look on her face told him she had not intended to reveal any secrets.

He smiled at her, and her fingers inched across the table to touch his before she placed both hands in her lap.

Airie picked up on the affirmation Nieve was seeking and answered her with compassion. “Scratch—Asher,” she corrected herself, “—isn’t one, either. He’s sweet and gentle. But he’s still a little boy. His demon talents are already strong and they’re going to grow. Are you prepared to deal with that side of him? Are you certain you know what that means?” She looked to Creed for support.

Because he did understand what it meant. His own mother had not been able to deal with the fact he was half demon, even though he knew in his heart that she had tried her best. But Nieve was different. She was a lot stronger than she seemed.

“Nieve will do fine with him,” Creed said, but he did not smile at her again. He could not. He did not want to see surprise or gratitude in her eyes. She should have trusted him in this. He had never asked for anything from her but that.

“What about you?” Airie asked him.

Another knife twisted in Creed. Airie thought he was the boy’s father, and worried about what that also meant. Demons did not share well, particularly the affections of the women they chose.

“The boy isn’t mine,” he replied. For that matter, neither was Nieve. He’d been mistaken. She had not claimed him. She had no room in her heart for anyone but her son. “The demon that Willow has been relying on must be his father. That’s the reason she’s following us. He’s helped her only because he wants Nieve back. Count on it.”

“Of course a demon is involved,” Hunter said. “Because half demons alone wouldn’t be trouble enough.” Although his outward demeanor remained calm and steady, Creed sensed his simmering anger and did not blame him for it. “It can’t enter the mortal world completely.”

“What if it has some physical connection to this world?” Creed asked. “Could it enter the mortal world then?”

Hunter and Airie exchanged a look that Creed hoped Nieve could not interpret. Any physical connection to the world that this demon had would involve either her or her son.

“I don’t know,” Airie admitted. “But I sent them away once. I can do it again. They can’t bear the touch of goddess rain on their flesh.”

“But goddess rain obviously has no effect on half demons, or they’d be gone, too.” Hunter’s expression soured. “Is there anything else I should know?” he asked Creed.

“I think that’s everything.”

“It doesn’t matter what the demon wants,” Airie said to Creed. “Not if Nieve doesn’t want him, too.”

Compassion spilled from her eyes so that Creed had to look away. He had no time for self-pity right now. Airie turned to Nieve, who was sitting quietly, her attention fixed on the window and the barn rather than the conversation at hand. She thought only of Ash, Creed knew.

“
Do
you want this demon? Have you claimed him already?” Airie asked her. “No one here will judge you for it.”

“No.” The faraway expression of longing in Nieve’s green eyes faded as she responded to the question with unwavering resolution. A delicate pink brushed her cheeks. “All I want is my son.”

Creed had known this from the beginning, so he couldn’t explain why her words cut him. He did not begrudge her the return of her child.

He resented that his time with her was now almost over because Nieve no longer needed him. Airie and Hunter would let no harm come to either her or her son if she stayed in this area. She had some money. He would leave more for her. He still had one last grenade taken from the ruin that he could sell.

Airie smiled at her husband, who was not at all appeased by her unconcerned manner. “A single demon, I can handle,” she assured him. “I have my father and mother to help protect me and our baby. And since the demon has no true claim on Nieve, it’s the least of our worries. The people in Cottonwood Fall are in far more danger. You should go.”

“How far behind you do you think this Willow is?” Hunter asked Creed.

Nieve suddenly stood. She reached for Creed, who was beside her, and steadied herself against his shoulder. Her eyes remained riveted on the window. Creed peered through the gleaming glass, wondering what had alarmed her, and saw a dull orange smear in the distance. Black smoke billowed skyward.

The time for talk was over. Willow was already here.

And it did not bode well for Cottonwood Fall.

Hunter, too, turned to look. His expression darkened, if possible. Creed could well understand why he and Blade were good friends. Ruthlessness emanated from them both.

“It seems the matter has been decided for me,” Hunter said. “It looks as if I’ll be helping the Godseekers, after all.”

While Creed would be happy to have his help no matter how grudgingly offered, Nieve was his bigger worry. He did not like leaving her unprotected.

Yet he had a duty. He had to go.

“Stay here with the women,” he said to Hunter. “I’ll go alone.”

“No,” Airie and Nieve said together.

Nieve fell silent. Her eyes, green and anxious, remained on Creed. When he looked at her, she turned away. Disappointment scorched him. She had her son. She no longer wanted him.

Airie reached for one of Hunter’s hands, taking it between hers. “You can’t stand back and let the town burn. If fire is Willow’s talent, and summoning demons, then I have better protection than Cottonwood Fall. They need the two of you more than we do.”

“If it were just you, I wouldn’t worry at all,” Hunter said. He dragged his fingers through his blond hair. “But what about the baby?”

Airie placed his palm on her round stomach. “See? All’s quiet. No contractions or anything. The baby’s not coming anytime soon.”

Hunter stood there, his hand on their baby, for several long moments. Then he nodded.

“Very well,” he said, and Airie smiled.

Envy sideswiped Creed at the obvious affection they had for each other. This was how it should be between a man and a woman.

The men started for the door. Creed paused at the foot of the front steps and looked back, because Nieve had followed him.

She stood a few steps above him on the verandah, her fingers working the worn fabric of her skirt into pleats as she gathered her thoughts. Dusk heightened the paleness of her hair and the depth of her lustrous eyes. She looked as if she had something she wanted to say but could not find the right words, or perhaps did not want them overheard by Airie and Hunter.

“I don’t want you in danger,” she finally said.

His heart untwisted. The hold she had on him was frayed, but not yet completely severed. She simply could not decipher her emotions. Or more likely, was not used to doing so—which was understandable under the circumstances, and given her past.

Perhaps that was for the best. He had no right to add to her worries. Not when she had found the one thing that meant the world to her and gave her hope for the future. More than anything else, Creed wished for her to have happiness in her life.

“You forget who I am,” he said. “What I am. I’m not the one who’ll be in danger.”