Page 5 of Dream Reaper

If he could even call that other beast a dragon.

Demon would be a more appropriate term.

He showed her his back and stormed down the trail, the nape of his neck cold and exposed. He followed a curve in the trail, returning his focus to the forest and what lay ahead of them.

The trees pressed closer to the trail, almost like two uneven walls flanking the winding path. He paused and studied the broken branches and scuffed footprints in the damp earth, where frantic footsteps had stirred the leaves and stomped some of them down into the soft earth.

Frowning, he ran his finger along the curve of a nearly perfect footprint. The dark elf lass had seemed a skinny wisp of a thing. The size of this footprint…

“She’s not alone,” he whispered to Echo, shifting to examine other disturbances on the path until he found a smaller footprint.

Echo huffed and bumped his shoulder with her snout.

“You knew? Well, you could have said something.”

She glared at him through her glassy eyes.

“If she isn’t alone, that can only mean one thing…”

Talos.

The dark elf traitor. His pulse quickened, a bitter taste rising in the back of his throat. This rescue mission had just grown a lot more complicated.

“Well, then, they are definitely headed in this direction. We’re going to need to be more careful because Talos won’t want to be found. If he hears us coming, he’ll go into hiding.”

If he possessed the ability to glamour, and if Echo couldn’t sniff them out over the pungent scents of rot in the forest, Jerrid would never find them. His own senses were overwhelmed by the smells emanating from these woods, scents so strong he couldn’t even smell his own sweat or Echo’s spicy, smoky musk.

All he could smell was rot, and Echo’s nostrils were even more sensitive than his.

They exchanged a long, measuring look. Finally, Echo chuffed and looked back the way they had come, the muscles in her shoulders rippling beneath shiny dragon scales.

Jerrid pursed his lips but nodded. “Aye, I agree. You should go back. Find a clearing and scope from above. I’ll follow from below. Maybe we can work them into a pincer hold.”

He reached out and stroked the dragon’s angular cheek. “Be careful, my lady.”

She merely jostled him with her shoulder as she turned in a circle like a giant cat about to curl up for a nap. Instead of lying down, however, she lumbered south once again, retracing her steps. He watched her leave, her dark body blending into the forest long before the sound of her awkward footsteps faded into silence.

He was alone.

Well, almost alone. The presence inside him stirred like a petulant child refusing to go to sleep. A knot tightened in the center of his chest, but he turned and pressed onward. It was better this way.

Jerrid trotted down the narrow trail, branches tugging at the dark-red and brown leather encasing his arms. If he lost control again, at least no one would be around to get hurt. It was safer for everyone if they just stayed away from him and his demon.

He’d realized long ago he would never live a normal life. There would be no wife or children in his future, no warm hearth or bed waiting for him when he came home from his long flights. He’d already put distance between himself and his family.

They didn’t understand, naturally, but it wasn’t worth the risk.

He didn’t want more lives on his conscience.

As soon as this thought flickered through his mind, he snatched it and shoved it away some place dark and deep where he could ignore it. He needed to keep himself focused on finding Ava and Talos. He was in control of his thoughts…and of his demon.

At least that’s what he told himself, anyway.

How far behind was he? He was making better time now without Echo stomping around behind him, smashing through saplings and rotting logs like a stampede of mountain goats through his old granny’s meticulous garden.

A sense of something other yanked him to a halt. The presence in the back of his mind that he struggled so hard to ignore rolled over and whispered a warning. He stiffened, knowing better than to ignore the wordless caution.

Ahead of him, the trail disappeared into impenetrable shadows. Around him, the forest waited, eerily silent. No crickets or mosquitoes or moths, just the sinister rattle of the wind through branches and over-crisp leaves.