Page 10 of The Demon’s Delight (The Demon Princes #3)

Chapter 9

Hailon

T he clientele inside the little inn stared as we crossed the floor toward the man behind the bar at the rear, but nobody moved to challenge or even paused in their conversations. My skin tingled, unappreciative of all the stares. I was grateful for Seir’s presence and seemingly effortless understanding of how to navigate this situation.

“What can I do for you, traveler?” the grizzled innkeeper asked.

“Any chance you have a room available?” Seir asked, forearm on the bar as he casually surveyed the room.

“Some food and drink aplenty, but no rooms, I’m afraid. We’re full up tonight.” The man drew a tankard of ale from a tap without looking away from Seir’s face and placed it in front of him.

“Are there any other places that rent? We can pay, of course.” Seir raised the brew and drank deep. I wondered if these gestures were some kind of tavern or inn code; some secret language I was not privy to. I also wondered if I should be offended that I was not included despite clearly standing right beside Seir.

The innkeeper shook his head. “No, sorry.”

A man down the bar leaned back, raising his voice to get Seir’s attention. “Ms. Welling runs a house down the street, if you’re looking for a bed.” He smirked, eyes traveling from my face to my chest. “Could probably even make some extra coin lending her out for the evening. Looks like she’s handled a good tumbling in her time. Always nice to have a fresh… face around here.” He winked at me after waggling his eyebrows in suggestion. My stomach turned.

Seir’s head turned toward the man slowly, his palm digging into the left side of his chest. I could feel the cold shift in his temperament and tensed in response. The last thing we needed was to cause trouble or draw attention to ourselves. “Is he a good customer?” Seir asked the innkeeper, though his attention was fully on the other man.

“Kalob?” The innkeeper snorted and flung a smudged white towel over one shoulder after wiping down the bar in front of himself with it. “Nah. He’s at least two weeks behind in credit and first to provoke a fight.” The innkeeper, it seemed, was participating in lighthearted banter about a loyal customer. Seir, on the other hand, was not.

Faster than my eyes could track, Kalob had been provided a fist to the face and was wearing both his ale and Seir’s, his face dripping and shirt saturated. The tankards were reduced to nothing more than shards of earthenware on the floor courtesy of the man’s face. As casual as could be, Seir used one hand to smash Kalob’s cheek against the wooden bar, then pinned him there, forearm pressing across his neck. Kalob’s hands flailed, only stilling when one of Seir’s daggers pressed into the soft area under his chin. He was bleeding, soaked in ale, and clearly stunned at how he’d ended up in such a state.

“Seir!” I gasped, at the same time the innkeeper shouted, “Hey now!” Several men across the room cheered.

“Is all your clientele so crass?” Seir asked him. “This is a terrible first impression if I’m being honest. No manners at all.”

“He didn’t mean nothing by it,” the innkeeper insisted, hands up as though surrendering.

“Of course he did.” Seir’s eyes finally met mine, and they were brutally red. His smile was sharp, and he didn’t hesitate to show all his teeth. “Apologize to the lady.”

“My mistake,” Kalob gritted, face turning reddish purple. Seir’s blade poked in enough to draw blood.

“It’s fine, let’s just go.” I reached a hand out, placing my palm on his arm. “People are staring.” I could feel it, and it made me itchy. I was flattered—more than, honestly—but this was not how I’d envisioned our evening going at all. I just wanted dinner, maybe a hot bath, and a bed. “We don’t want to draw attention to ourselves, right? We should leave.”

“Not until he apologizes properly.”

“I’m sorry!” he wheezed. Seir leaned in close to his ear, whispering something I couldn’t make out. Kalob nodded, at least as much as he was able to. “I’m very sorry, good lady. I meant no disrespect. I sincerely apologize for insinuating you might be a”—his air choked off even further—“whore.”

The innkeeper’s eyes shifted between us, and we’d drawn the attention of all the nearby tables by this point as well. “He’s done what you said, now let him go, yeah? He didn’t mean no harm. He’s just an idiot who doesn’t know when to mind his mouth.”

Seir released the man, who wasted no time stumbling his way out of the inn, coughing the whole way. Another round of cheering went up, along with loud peals of laughter. It would seem several other patrons had their own issues with dear Kalob.

“Did you?” Seir asked the innkeeper, the point of his blade now aimed his direction. It bobbed as Seir talked, bouncing between the innkeeper’s throat and chest.

“Did I, what?”

“You poured me a drink straightaway. Where was your hospitality for her? Did you mean to be welcoming, or did you mean harm?”

“Oh, I …”

“Do the women of this town not drink your ale? It’s certainly not the worst I’ve tasted, but I have to wonder if it’s of such bad quality you’d prefer it not cross the lips of a lady.” He tapped the point of his dagger against his chin. “Were you insulting me by allowing me to drink it, or were you insulting her by not offering any at all?”

Despite the hot rage pouring from his body and the terrifying tone of Seir’s voice, I did not fear him. My heart was pounding in my chest mostly out of anxious anticipation. He seemed erratic, though still very methodical. It didn’t make sense, but I’d seen him take out a threat, and this was not the same. This was something more like… playing with his food.

I scanned the room, finding that the only women present were clearly working in one way or another. There were two laughing and playfully being tossed from lap to lap at tables near the windows, their bodices cut low and their skirts pulled high enough to show stockings and garters. Two more were delivering food and drinks from large trays. Women were not patrons here, only men. I very much doubted Seir had missed such a detail, but it felt important.

The innkeeper hustled to fill a cup for me, but in his haste, it was mostly foam.

“Thank you,” I said, not wishing to inflame things any further. I took a drink, and it was refreshing if only because it was cold. My whole body was on high alert, and I wanted nothing more than to follow the hateful man out the door. Seir had shown several features that were not fully human, and I had no idea whether that was going to become a serious problem for us. “Whatever point you wanted to make, you’ve made, it, okay? Let’s just go.”

“In a moment.” Seir took a deep breath and sheathed his dagger. The energy of the bar relaxed, everyone returning to their own conversations as though what had just happened was completely commonplace. No wonder Ignus got along so well here.

“Can I do anything else for you, sir?” the innkeeper asked, clearly trying to get us to leave his establishment peacefully.

“Who can I speak to about a horse?”

He shook his head. “No horses to let or sell around these parts.”

“Not even for gold coin?” Seir asked, accepting the cup as I pushed it toward him. The bright hoppy taste turned my empty stomach.

“No sir. All our animals are working stock, needed for the harvest before winter comes.”

“Unfortunate,” Seir grunted and finished the ale, the innkeeper startling when he smacked the empty tankard on the bar. He sighed, fishing coins from a pouch at his waist. His tail was twitching irritably under his shirt, like a snake coiled inside a sack, ready to strike at the first temptation of release. “And information? Do you have any of that?”

“Possibly.”

“I heard a rumor about a healer in a nearby town.”

I was sure I turned bright red, standing right there listening, acting like I wasn’t the subject of his questioning, but I appreciated the way Seir had approached his information gathering.

“Aye. I don’t know anything for certain, but there’s been talk of a woman who can cure just about anything, for the right price.”

“Keep talking.”

“Word has it she’s mountain folk. Has a unique talent. You know the kind—not a witch, exactly, but something close. Should you find yourself in Olinbourg, look for the house near the square with the lattice windows.”

Seir placed a coin on the bar, but kept it covered with his hand.

“Any clue who I might want to speak to when I find this house?”

The innkeeper glanced around before leaning in, trying to maintain some illusion of privacy in the busy room. The coin was traded, and he started talking. “There’s a man who comes here sometimes, he brings grain for my ale and sour mash. Bartering is commonplace for nearby townsfolk, as you surely know. Everyone has something to trade.”

“Of course.”

“He goes by Ignus. Allegedly, it’s his healer.”

I clenched a fist at the insinuation I belonged to him. I’d been his captive, his unwilling participant. But I’d never been his .

“Does he travel alone?”

“Occasionally there’s another man with him. Bookish type, skinny with glasses.” That had to be Dr. Lang. “They generally seek ale here and company at Ms. Welling’s, but so do many.”

“Indeed.” Seir put down another coin. “Apologies for the mess. We’ll be on our way.”

“Safe journey to you,” the innkeeper said reflexively. I could tell by his face there was no actual care for our well-being behind his words. Seir turned from the bar, and I followed, right on his heels.

He kept right on walking once we were outside, headed down the street towards where we’d find Ms. Welling’s brothel.

“What happened back there?” I asked, the madness replaying in my head.

“He disrespected you.” Seir’s powerful jaw clenched, and he swiped at his chest again. “They both did.”

“You could have ignored him. Now everyone in there knows what we look like, that we like to cause trouble.”

Seir shook his head. “Who will they tell? Besides, these people won’t remember tonight for long. And if they do, descriptions both of us and of what happened will be mightily embellished, especially if it’s the innkeeper or Kalob sharing the tale.” Seir rolled his shoulders back, intentionally forcing some of the residual tension out. “He’s lucky I didn’t end his miserable life right there at the bar. Would have been simple enough.”

The words came so easy, like such an act was no big deal. And I knew he meant it, every word. I huffed irritably, and Seir stopped mid-stride.

“Are you upset?”

“Yes, a little. We need to be more cautious. That inn had only men for patrons, and I know you noticed that as easily as I did. By calling the innkeeper out, by making Kalob apologize instead of just going along with things, you forced us into the center of attention, and we were already obviously outsiders. We need to be inconspicuous, don’t we? What if it wasn’t Ignus who arranged everything? What if we’re being watched? Someone took me before, they could just as easily take me again.” My tone had gone high and panicky. That was it, I realized. That was what I was afraid of more than anything.

“No, they couldn’t.” Seir looked me square in the eye, his hand rising to my shoulder. He moved slowly, so I could see what he was doing.

“Couldn’t what?”

“Take you again. Nobody will take you anywhere you don’t want to go ever again.” His eyes glowed, and those sharp teeth ground together just enough for me to forget how to breathe.

Seir inhaled, forcing the muscles in his shoulders and fist to relax a fraction, though this upset was still palpable. The hand he’d put on my shoulder rose further, palm resting along my jaw. It was intimate and kept my focus completely on him. “I’m sorry to have put you in a position you didn’t want to be in, but I will not apologize for what I did. Nobody should treat you like that, Hailon. It doesn’t matter if it’s some drunk in a shitty village inn.” Another inhale, and his body finally unclenched. “But I suppose you’re right, we should be more careful. And I’m happy to have all the fun on my own, but should I not be around or you’d prefer a turn, simply use your clever little blades, yes? Or perhaps borrow mine, it served you very well before. I’m sure you can do as much damage as I can and probably in less time. It would have a much larger impact coming from you, as well.” He smiled at me, his eyes no longer red but back to their gold with a green ring, and all frustration was gone from his body language.

I didn’t know what else to say. His mercurial mood should have been scary, but I understood it. And I was strangely honored by the gestures he’d displayed at the bar, even if it made me anxious. It had been so effortless, the way he handled things there, the same way he’d taken care of Ignus and his friends.

Nobody had ever stood up for me like that before. And now he’d done it twice.

“I will. Remember my knives, that is. Someday.” I’d have to practice though, because I’d simply been too stunned by what was happening to consider doing anything myself. “Thank you.”

A smile spread across his face. “You’re welcome.”

The sun had set completely while we were inside the inn. Most of the windows along Main Street were well lit by lamp or candle, and the moon provided a cool, white glow to the road.

As we approached what was clearly Ms. Welling’s, given the red scarves tied to the posts on the porch and the rowdy laughter coming from inside, a woman leaned against the second-floor balcony rail.

“You folks the reason Kalob Brown ran out of the Scythe like his hair was on fire?”

Seir looked up at her, unable to hide his smile. “Perhaps. Though he didn’t exactly introduce himself properly. He was having a bit of trouble breathing while we were getting acquainted.”

She laughed, her voice rich and gravelly. “Good, he’s needed someone to set him straight for a while now. We appreciate your service, stranger.” She leaned over the rail, ample cleavage on display, though she could hardly help it given the gown she had on. She looked between us, analyzing the way his body was positioned in front of mine, just slightly off to one side. Her posture changed, her face set in a kind smile. “If you’re needing a place for the night, Widow Callahan might be able to help you. She makes the best peach cobbler around and has a soft spot for young couples on their way through to visit family, like you all.” Her eyebrow raised suggestively, and I nodded that I understood what she’d said. “Just head out of town on this main road. She’s got the little homestead past the stone well with a green fence and chickens in the yard.” The woman gave a wink and went back inside, leaving us staring after her, then at one another.

Seir turned to me, his eyes full of mischief. “Shall we go see if the widow is up for some company?”