Demon's Daughter (Demon Outlaws) (33 page)

She met his eyes. Hers were brown again, he was thankful to note, warm, and filled with emotion.

But not the emotion he was seeking. His contentment turned to worry.

“I’m not running from them,” Airie said, standing straight as she curled her fingers to fists and took a step back. Her eyes flashed with fire. “From now on, they are running from me. Fire and rain alone won’t be enough to rid the world of them, but I know of something that is.”

Gold and blue-green light encased her. The wall of shimmering flame she held curled inward as it collapsed, then ran like fingers of fire along the ground. A roar came from the mouth of the cavern, building in intensity. At first, Hunter could not place the source. Then he recognized the pounding of heavy rain.

A wide stream of water gushed toward them, forcing demons into the air. Those who did not take to wing immediately found they did not have room to spread theirs out, and screamed in agony as the water washed through, ankle deep, to flood the floor of the cavern.

The fire met the rain, and the cavern filled with thick, scorching steam. Sweat streamed down Hunter’s face.

Scratch
.

His heart pounded. He could scarcely believe he’d forgotten him. Airie did not know that he was here, and Hunter did not know how demon flames and goddess rain might affect him. He glanced around frantically, trying to find his hiding place, and shouted for him, hoping to be heard over the rain and fire and demon cries.

The child crawled from under the platform, near Hunter’s feet. Hunter snatched him up in his arms, turning his body in order to shield him from the spreading mist. While Hunter was mortal, and the mist did not appear to cause him any significant or lasting harm, he was not willing to take any risks with Scratch’s well-being.

It was the steaming mist, however, that drove the demons from the cavern. It penetrated every corner, every crack and crevice, making it impossible to escape its touch.

And outside, in the desert, they would find no protection from the rain unless they took to the skies above it.

Something hard pressed against Hunter’s chest, and Hunter looked down to see what it was. Scratch had what at first looked to be a rock in his hands. It was egg-shaped and rough, colored a drab shade of green similar to the areoles of cacti, with a pin at the top to lock its detonator. Hunter’s heart pounded harder. He could not believe the boy had not killed them all before now.

But he could think of a use for it. With the bomb cushioned against his chest, and Scratch in his arms, Hunter grabbed Airie by the hand and ran, following in the wake of the demons as they fled.

The rain continued to fall, but thankfully, had no effect on the child. It ran down Hunter’s face and soaked his tattered clothing. Blood trickled in thin rivulets from his chest and arms to drip to the ground in pale, watery splotches. He set Scratch on his feet and eased the bomb from his tiny fingers.

Hunter examined it. It fit the curve of his palm, and was heavier than he’d expected. The head of the pin was round, as if meant to fit a man’s finger. He wondered whether it was still live, and if so, how stable the detonator might be after all these years.

He did not want either Scratch or Airie near him when he pulled the pin.

“Stay right here,” he ordered the boy. He took hold of his chin and looked into his face to make sure he had his full attention. Rain clung to the boy’s lashes. “And I want to be able to see you. No hiding. No more touching things you find if you don’t know what they are. Do we understand each other?”

Scratch nodded, and Hunter ruffled his wet hair. “Sit down and cover your head until I tell you it’s safe to move.”

He jogged a short distance away, then closed his eyes and prayed as he yanked the pin.

Nothing happened.

He threw the bomb into the mouth of the cavern. Again, nothing happened. Less than ten seconds later however, the earth shook, knocking him to his knees.

The mouth of the cavern had crumpled. Then, as he watched, the cliffs above it collapsed inward. Streams of smoke intermingled with steam drifted up through fallen rock and rubble. Hunter wiped mud from his face, grimly satisfied.

That was for Airie’s priestess mother. The goddesses’ temple was gone. The Demon Lord’s hole was, as well.

Airie was searching the sky for signs of demons, but as near as he could tell, they were gone. Rain slid down her hair and off her cheeks, like teardrops that sparkled as they fell. Mud spattered her slim, bare feet.

Hunter checked on Scratch, who was sitting where he had been told to wait. Then he went to Airie, who had not yet released her hold on fire and rain. The steam billowed into the sky and rolled through the yucca trees, twisting around and under everything it touched, layering the desert in a thick, hot fog.

The flames in her eyes were gone, leaving them soft and beautiful, and shining with flecks of light. He read anxiety in them and reached for her, wanting to hold her tight and reassure her that all would be well, but he could not be certain of that yet.

He did know, however, how much he loved her. She had fought demons for him, and for the world. She would always do so, and it was best to accept it. They would fight them together.

She stepped away from him and would not let him touch her. His heart retracted into his throat.

“Time has run out for me,” she said to him. “I have to choose now.”

At first he didn’t know what she meant. Then he saw the entire situation with greater clarity, and a part of him died. She was an immortal, but she could be only demon or goddess, not both. There seemed little contest in that decision.

Or consolation, for that matter. Either way, he had lost her.

“I understand.” He swallowed hard. “No, I don’t.”

“There can be no place for me in this world. Not as an immortal.” The fire in her eyes disappeared, replaced now by gleaming tears of gold that made him ache for her.

Her place was with him, he wanted to say, but how could he want what was best for her, and yet ask her to give up immortality?

He would not cry, and he would not beg her to stay.

“I love you,” he said. “Immortal or not. I thought you should know that.” He cleared his throat, embarrassed by the emotions he could not hold back. He could not stop his next words either. “Please don’t make me live without you. But I’ll understand if you must.”

A smile lit her face, and hope flickered to life in his heart.

“What do you want?” she asked.

“You,” he replied without hesitation. “I want you.”

She was in his arms, hers tight around his neck, a sodden bundle who kissed his rain-washed face over and over. “I want you, too,” she said. “I love you. Wherever you are, that’s where I belong.”

The sun peeked out through the rain. A rainbow, brilliant and multihued, arced across the desert from one end of the horizon to the other.

He hated himself for asking the next question. He would have hated himself more if he didn’t. “Will you have to give up immortality in order to stay?”

She took the back of his head in her fingers and drew his mouth to hers, then pressed her face into his neck. The golden sheen she had worn since their first lovemaking began to diminish, slowly fading away beneath the steady patter of rain.

“What good is immortality to me,” she said, the rapid flutter of her eyelashes caressing his skin, “when my heart remains mortal?”

Epilogue

It was three days before the heavy mists dissipated and the sun returned. By that time, everything in Freetown was sodden. Nothing had escaped its touch. It flowed under doors and through the tiniest of cracks.

On the fourth night, Hunter heard the sound of a door opening and closing a floor below him and was instantly awake.

It was nothing, just one of the saloon’s restless residents, because Airie still slept—she would have awakened otherwise—but the stealth in the movements he’d heard made Hunter uneasy.

She had said that the demons would not return, that the goddesses kept them away, but he had fought them too long to feel as certain of that as she was.

He slipped from the bed, careful not to awaken her. She rolled over in her sleep and flung her arm over his still warm pillow, pulling it close to her, and he smiled in the moonlight.

Blade was right. He was a lucky man. More so than he deserved.

He found his friend in the kitchen, filling a large pack with canned goods and utensils. He was dressed for travel.

Blade looked up when Hunter entered, his face shadowy in the glare of the single lantern hanging from the ceiling joist behind him. “Sorry if I woke you.”

Hunter sat down at the long wooden table and watched him as he continued to work. “Going somewhere? Without saying good-bye?”

“I don’t like good-byes.”

Neither did Hunter. But forgoing this one didn’t feel right. Packing and leaving in the middle of the night indicated to Hunter that Blade didn’t intend to return.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“Not sure.”

So his friend was running away from home. Granted, Hunter had once done the same thing, but he’d been a kid. Blade was a little old for that. And settled. With Mamna gone, he had a real chance for his business to grow.

Hunter waited for Blade to elaborate. When he didn’t, he said, “I guess what I really want to know is, why?”

With the pack bulging, Blade flipped the canvas flap closed and tightened the leather straps. He lifted a careless shoulder, not meeting Hunter’s eyes. “Now that I have my leg back, I’m restless to see the world.” He sighed and looked at the ceiling, then finally at Hunter. “I asked Ruby to marry me and she said no.”

“I see.”

And he did, far more than Blade likely yet had. Hunter knew his friend, he knew Ruby, and he knew something of women. The two were not suited to be more than friends. Perhaps with a bit of distance between them that might change. If not, it was never meant to be.

“You can come with us to the Borderlands,” Hunter said.

“No offense,” Blade replied, shrugging into the pack’s shoulder straps and tying it tight around his waist, “but it’s hard enough to get any sleep when I’m one floor below the two of you. Trying to share your campfire at night would scar me for life. Do me a favor, though. Make sure Airie understands that this isn’t a bad thing. She’s given Ruby and me a chance at new lives.”

“What
about
Ruby?” Hunter asked. “And the others?”

Blade tapped an envelope on the table behind Hunter. It had Ruby’s name on it.

“She’ll run the saloon. As long as I own it, at least in name, she should have no problems.”

So that was that, then. Blade was a grown man. Hunter wasn’t about to try to change his mind.

But he was going to miss him far more than he’d expected. When he’d decided to take Airie back to his home, he hadn’t thought he’d lose all contact with his closest friend. Now, he wouldn’t know where he was.

Hunter held out his hand. “If you’re ever in the Borderlands, look me up.”

Blade’s grip was solid and familiar, and far too brief. “I will. And I’ll be hoping that by the time I do, Airie will have gotten tired of you.”

“No chance of that,” Hunter said smugly.

Blade clapped him on the shoulder. “I’m going to miss your misguided self-confidence.”

He let himself out through the kitchen door and was swallowed by the night.

Hunter continued to sit, thinking back over their years of friendship. Blade had provided him with a place to return to. A temporary home. Now it was time for him to make a real one with the woman he loved.

He extinguished the lantern and went back to bed, and to Airie.

…

Normally Airie loved this time of day, when night turned to morning and both the moon and the sun touched the sky. It spoke to both parts of her nature and fused them in harmony.

But she cried when the last signs of the collapsed mountain disappeared from view on the desert horizon behind them.

She couldn’t help it. She didn’t want to leave her mother, but she didn’t want Hunter and Scratch to see her cry either.

Hunter, who was walking, drew Sally to a halt and eased Airie from the saddle. She slid to the ground with Scratch in her arms. Hunter took him from her and set him on his feet. Then, he pulled Airie close.

He knew immediately what was wrong.

“She wouldn’t want you to feel this way,” he said. “She wanted you to be safe and happy. That’s why she asked me to take you with me before she died. I promise you, we’ll come back to visit her.”

Airie rested her head against his chest, feeling the steady, reassuring beat of his heart. He meant well, and he intended to keep his promise, but it was a trip that took at least several months when traveled both ways. She knew they would not be back for a very long time, if at all.

She was leaving her home for the unknown, and while Hunter and Scratch both loved her, she worried what his family would think of his choice in a mate. She would never be truly mortal. And she possessed demon deaths, although her father fought them for her. He remained with her, as present and as silent as her mother, content, it seemed, to wait out her mortal life in order to win his freedom.

When he did, she hoped he and her mother found it together.

“What if your family hates me?” she asked. She wanted to add,
because of your sister
, but she didn’t have to. Again, he understood her concern.

His arms tightened. “It was a long time ago. My family will look at you and see someone I love, and they’ll love you, too. Besides,” he added, “no one could have a better reason to hate demons than Blade, and he wants you to keep him in mind if you ever get tired of me.”

She hadn’t wanted a reminder of Blade. She’d tried to speak with Ruby about him before they left, to say she was sorry for causing her pain, but Ruby had refused to listen to any apologies.

“You gave Blade back something that was worth far more to him than I was,” she’d said, offering Airie an overly bright smile. “And I deserve better in a marriage than a comfortable friendship.”

Scratch tugged on one leg of the trousers she’d worn for travel. Hunter had bought her clothes and boots that fit. The little boy, too, was comfortably dressed, although no matter how hard she tried, she could not seem to keep him clean. And although he had been warned time and again not to pick up things he did not recognize, they did periodic and thorough searches of his pockets.

She bent to receive the grimy kiss he offered her, then looked up at Hunter. “He’s the same as me.”

While it was unlikely his mother was a goddess, there could be little doubt that his father was demon.

“We’ll worry about that if there’s ever a need to,” Hunter replied, his tone light. “Until then, who better to be his parents than us? He’s ours now, and that’s all that matters. We’ll give him a new name. A good one. We’ll raise him right.”

She could not help but worry. “What if there are more people like us?”

“The world should be so lucky. Don’t borrow trouble, Airie.” He pointed to Sally, who was impatiently flicking her tongue. “It’s time to move on. Saddle up.”

She curled her fingers in his shirtfront and pressed her lips to his.

“I’ll never get tired of you,” she said. “I love you, and I’ll follow you to the four corners of the earth if I have to.”

His eyes were a deep, startling blue in his suntanned face.

“I know,” he said, a satisfied grin creasing his cheeks.

Airie swung into the saddle and settled Scratch in front of her, feeling better already because in her heart, where it mattered, both of her mothers smiled, too.