Page 9

The human still had her hood drawn and was looking exceptionally small. For one anguished moment, Severath imagined that she had tricked them and somehow replaced herself, but then her head turned up, and he recognized the lips that glowered from beneath the hood.

“Perimeter’s being set. Shouldn’t take long,” said Drolmoth as he gestured with his chin to the other guard.

“Blazes, Sev, I didn’t realize…” Garion’s voice trailed off, gaze locked just north of Severath’s eye, then he blinked and shook that piteous look away.

“Right, uh, now that we’re here, we can put this on.

” From his hip pouch, he pulled out a band of silver.

The metal had been engraved, and as he moved it, a deep emerald sheen ran through the runes’ indentations.

“Arm,” demanded Drolmoth down at the top of the woman’s head. She tilted toward him, but it wasn’t fast enough, and he grabbed blindly for her limb through the cloak.

She made a shrill sound but cut it off when her arm was wrenched upward and extended toward Garion.

Finally, someone who took the danger of her seriously, but Drolmoth’s grip on her elbow was so tight she trembled under it, and an instinct flared in Severath’s chest to strike out at the demon and knock him through the window.

Hells, maybe that sorcery had corrupted his mind and not just his body.

He squeezed the bridge of his nose, a stabbing pain under his fingers he hadn’t expected, and watched Garion secure the cuff around the woman’s wrist. When it clasped, the band flashed with an earthly magic, and though the human was released, she left her arm extended so that the cuff was as far from her as possible.

“Elliran is casting matching runes on the perimeter,” Garion explained.

“Hear that?” Drolmoth snorted all too smugly, his face especially punchable then. “Means if you try to run past the fence, you get blown up into meaty, red human chunks.”

Severath choked out a surprised sound, and from beneath the hood came something like a whimper. But surely he misheard because murderers didn’t whimper .

“Oh, no, no, no!” A taut voice squeaked as the scribe skittered into the parlor.

Her thin tail was wrapped around her, and she hugged the rune tome to her chest. “Kizros—er, the alchemist certainly didn’t design the runes to do any, uh…

blowing up.” Elliran laughed nervously as she inched her way around Drolmoth who didn’t bother to move even for her slight frame.

“The wearer can safely travel anywhere within the perimeter, and if they attempt to cross it, they’re just compelled back to where they belong.

None of them can cross very far into the Veilwood, but the one she has is a little more complex.

If you want to take her somewhere else, just send me a drayk at the council offices, and I can modify it with Fineril’s approval. ”

Severath took the parchment she offered with the information for sending the request and stuffed it immediately in a pocket with as gracious a grunt as he could muster.

“I have to apologize—I don’t have her stipend to give you.” Elliran’s gaze flicked nervously to the other guards then back to Severath. “The Horn of Finance hasn’t released the coin yet, but I’m working on it with him.”

Of course, that was where Severath recognized her from: Elliran was the Horn of Finance’s assistant. He shrugged at her, unconcerned. The human was so small, she couldn’t cost much to keep.

“Well, uh, I think that’s it…” Garion glanced expectantly around the parlor.

Drolmoth rolled the darkness in his eyes, tail whipping through the air and making Elliran shift out of the way. “May Wrasmos favor you,” the demon said with all the sincerity of one’s closest rival.

Severath was used to receiving the war god’s blessing when embarking on a perilous journey, but one look at the small charge he was now responsible for made it clear that this was not that.

One’s definition of perilous, of course, really depended on one’s weaknesses—not that Severath would admit to having anything of the sort .

The silence of the house once the demons left was heavier than the mists of the Dreadmoor.

The human brought her thin wrist close to her face, and the faint flicker of emerald light danced across the sliver of jaw not covered by the hood.

She carefully lifted her other hand and moved like she would poke the cuff but hesitated.

Then that hand moved quickly, and Severath straightened, but she only snatched back her hood and glared up at him. Obstinance poured out of every one of her features and those eyes of hers, so similarly dark to a demon’s and yet so completely different with their colored rings, were full of hatred.

That flaming fury took him by surprise. Why in the blazes was she so damn angry at him ? Truly, what had he done but save her?

“W—why am I here?”

What was that? A crack in her voice?

She waited, lips drawn tight, unreadable save for her anger.

“Did no one tell you?”

She shook her head, knotted and mussed hair just sweeping her shoulders.

It was a strange color, like that ring in her eyes up against the odd whiteness, the color of dark mud.

Her skin had lost its sallow cast, now warmer and darker, but there were marks under her eyes in a strange color, a sort of blue, but not with the vibrancy of a demon’s skin.

“You’re here for…assessment.” Severath found himself shrugging.

She wrinkled her nose, a smudge of dirt still running up its flat bridge.

When she crossed her arms, the cloak fell back to reveal an underfed form, collarbones on display as the too big tunic designed for a much larger demon refused to stay up on both of her pointed shoulders.

There was nothing threatening about her until she opened her mouth again, voice as sharp as a blade. “Who else knows I’m here?”

Ah, of course, she was a stealthy criminal.

Severath didn’t let his eyes flick back to the entry where he had locked up all the house’s sharpest elements, easily wieldable regardless of size or strength.

“I believe our arrangement is meant to be known only to the guard and the council, so I’m sure the entire city will find out by nightfall. ”

She glanced at the parlor’s only window, its curtains drawn, and the silvery lines of the brand twisted across her neck. “How do I know you’re telling the truth if I can’t speak to anyone else?”

“I don’t have the power to have you brought to my home of my own accord, nor would I want it. This is not my choice.”

She bit down on her lip with a blunted tooth, eyes darting to the hearth and back as if considering her options. “What is an assessment ?”

“Surely it’s meant to be me questioning you rather than the other way around.” He didn’t want to admit he wasn’t quite sure himself .

“I already told you I killed someone. I’m dangerous. End of story.”

That would be far too simple a story, of course, but neither had the foresight to realize what a disappointment that would be.

Severath cocked a brow. “You don’t really look dangerous.” Perhaps a little prodding would bring out her true nature.

She swallowed hard and took an unexpected step back. “Why not just throw me in a dungeon? Demons must have loads of those.”

He sneered at the insult. “Because someone with more authority than I made the decision not to imprison you in the traditional sense, so now I’ve been imprisoned with you in the nontraditional sense. Welcome to our shared torment.”

She snorted. “Does anyone else live here? Your family? It’s a big house.”

His brow dipped—the house wasn’t that large despite how it often felt. “I do not think the council would place you in a home where all inhabitants were not soldiers.”

She stared at him, face softening in the same way Lazerath’s sometimes did when Severath used too many big words.

“It is indeed only me here.”

Quickly, she shifted back into a glower, eyes once again darting about. “Can’t I stay with someone else?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

Severath growled deep in his throat. “Orders are orders.”

“There must be someone else. Like that healer?”

“So you can slit Balran’s throat in the night?” He snorted, almost amused. “It was my foolish decision to bring you and the other humans here, and so now I must suffer the consequences. There is no one else, no matter how repulsive you find the situation.”

“I don’t want to be locked up in a house with a man!” she shouted, her next breath sharp, eyes wide and unblinking.

“I’m not a man. I’m a demon.”

The woman rubbed at her face, silver band jostled on her wrist. “No, I don’t mean—isn’t there a woman I can stay with instead?”

“The only women in this city are the other humans, and they too are under a sort of supervision that…” Severath cocked his head, the loss of his horn making him tip farther than he meant. “Oh, you mean to suggest you would rather be assessed by a female demon?”

She pulled the cloak back around her and nodded.

Severath clicked his tongue, lip curled with disgust as she hid herself away—as if she needed to, as if he would… “First of all and most importantly, I am a civilized member of Heck and a defender of the law. My fellow demons entrust me to protect this place and them.”

“So you’re a city guard? That is the exact opposite of reassuring.”

“Second,” he went on, a bit louder, “you are a human, and I am a demon.” On this, he didn’t elaborate but let the obvious disparity hang in the air long enough to make her feel as small and feeble as she looked. “And third,”—he leaned down so that they were face to face—“you are filthy .”

Satisfied at the offense that crossed her face, Severath stood straight again, and her gaze finally found the floor.

“You will have private quarters while you are here,” he went on, turning for the stairs across from the entry. “A bed chamber and a washroom to yourself, which I would encourage you to use liberally.”

She huffed, a shell of her original annoyance but preferable to miming fear.

He gestured for her to move, and her first step was another limp but then she took the stairs normally enough.

He pointed to the open door on the landing above, and with only a brief glance back at him, she scurried upward and shut herself inside.

Severath stood in the entry, arms crossed, misery sinking into his bones.

Was it not enough to saddle him with a human but also so much unearned condemnation?

He lowered himself onto the crate of locked weapons and ran hands over his face, once again catching the corner of his bandage and swearing under his breath.

And this too, all for someone who loathed him just as much as he was beginning to loathe…

Severath took a deep breath and blinked his one eye open, gaze falling on the wrapped parcel of pastries. He snatched it up and held its warmth in both hands. This was not forever, he reminded himself. She would have a hearing, and the quicker he assessed her, the quicker that would come.

But first, he had qapian shit to shovel out of the road or face his neighbor’s wrath.