Page 24 of Demon and the Raven

“Strange of her not to simply say and then return to Soter for reinforcements.”

She shook her head. “It is known that if one is captured by an enemy and questioned, you will not live to be released. It’s folly to believe differently. Nott was wise and knew once she was trapped, she was dead. Whatever information was gleaned, it took torture to loosen her lips.”

“I really am so very sorry.”

“We take solace in knowing that to find her as she was, she held out until the questioner was so furious that she was torn asunder.”

That didn’t give me any comfort at all.

“You must be on your guard now, witch, as my sisters and I are gone from this place. I only appear to you now since Nott would have wanted it this way, and my lord, as well as my lord’s lord, owe yours fealty.”

Which basically meant they were all communicating with lowly ole me because my lord Arawn was far scarier than all the rest of them put together. “Thank you again,” I said, reaching out for her.

She clasped my arm but didn’t push her power through me as was customary. It wasn’t necessary; Thero was there to honor what Nott would have wanted, respecting her wishes, not to test me.

We let go at the same time, and she bowed her head just a bit before pointing behind me, the gesture a reminder of where the edge of the slip was, then turned and walked deeper into the shadows, until she disappeared completely.

I took the required steps out, and a man did a double take when he saw me. It must’ve been strange to see air one moment and me the next.

“Hey,” I greeted him.

He squinted, then went back to what he was doing, carrying a keg into the stall that was serving beer, hot dogs, and hamburgers. He probably thought, as most would have, that he was seeing things.

It took me a few moments of deep breaths, letting the sounds and smells of the carnival wash over me, to recover some semblance of normalcy. Once I did, I knew there was only one person I wanted to talk to, and I needed to walk back to the center of town so that as soon as he was done with his meeting, I would be there.

Leaving the carnival, after witnessing three different shoving matches on my way out that didn’t escalate solely because of the carnival security, I retraced my steps to the town center. I moved fast, breaking into a jog every few minutes, wanting to get there as quickly as I could. It was strange because I was on edge, and due to that, I kept glancing around, unsure of my eyes and ears, seeing and hearing things at the edge of my vision, stepping from the shadows, that couldn’t possibly be there.

Was it stupid? Yes. Could I stop… I could, apparently, because I heard a sound I recognized, which instantly soothed me—several short staccato beginnings of a meow.

There, coming up beside me on the sidewalk, was Argos, my cat.

Now, was he actually a cat? Absolutely not. He was a daemon, which was a lot of different things, depending on the tome where you were looking up the definition. Some said demigod, others a watchful spirit, and yet others a goblin taking animal form. Daemons were not inherently good or evil. They imprinted on a family, and if you took care of them, which mostly involved feeding them, then they stuck around, didn’t eat you, and protected everyone in the home. No one knew where they came from or what made them show up, but when they did, attention needed to be lavished on them, as they basically saw you as a servant. As far as I knew, it was the same with normal cats.

My grandfather told me that his great-grandmother, who had been alive for a short time with him growing up, had been the one who found Argos in the forest. There was no record of him before that in anyone’s diary. He appeared often since then, and I was thankful. Because what made Argos different from a regular cat was that if I found myself in danger when he was around, he could suddenly grow to the size of a male grizzly bear with flashing red eyes and teeth like razors. The issue was, he was a bit of a traveler, and his vigilance was sporadic at best. Tonight, however, walking down the empty streets alone, his company was appreciated even though looking at him was strange. What had taken me by surprise was that normally, his fur was a lustrous, glossy black, but at the moment he appeared as an orange tabby—and a bit of a chunky one at that.

“What’s with you?” I asked him as he walked in front of me and stopped, nearly tripping me before I caught my balance and he darted forward. “And why’re you trying to kill me?”

He ran ahead, jumping up on the low wall that encircled the courthouse, putting him at waist level as I reached him.

“Really,” I said, squinting. “What’s with the color?”

“Oh, look who it is,” a voice said. Diana Flint. Twice in one day meant my luck was not good for some reason. Perhaps I needed to start carrying a periapt to keep her away from me. Though keeping track of whatever charm that would end up being could prove difficult. There were only so many things one could recall.

“Diana,” I greeted her as she walked toward me with Allard Pace, holding on to his arm.

“Xander,” she returned, her blond brows furrowing.

If one had to describe her, the best word would be pinched. She always looked like her face, her eyes, her entire demeanor, really, was both tight and uncomfortable. I had no idea if she ever unclenched any part of her. In contrast, Allard Pace appeared the picture of ease. He had a fluid grace about him, and he was tall and handsome, built like a swimmer. He too was blond, but whereas Diana’s hair was a natural mousy brown, which meant she was forced, by vanity, to constantly have it dyed, his was as golden as his skin, lashes, and brows. The man was basically gilded. Too bad I didn’t like him, but that had more to do with him cruising into town in his flashy Italian sports car and buying up property than anything else. I could own that. But even if he’d been a saint, still, his friendship with Diana Flint wasn’t doing him any favors.

“Mr. Corey,” Pace said, smiling. “It’s a lovely night, isn’t it?”

“It is,” I agreed, trying to be cordial. “Are you two on your way to the carnival or on your way home?”

“What are you implying?” Diana snapped at me.

Sometimes I wasn’t as careful with my words as I should be. “I didn’t mean to imply anything. I only meant⁠—”

“We know what you meant,” Pace said to Diana with a smile, which immediately soothed her ruffled feathers. “Don’t we?”