His jaw tenses, the muscles in his face twitching.“Please,”he says, so soft and quiet even my exceptional hearing almost misses the word.
I don’t understand the slight tightness in my chest. I feel strangely… sympathetic. Like I’m seeing someone pluck the wings off a bird while its family watches on. He reeks of desperation.
A part of me wonders if this is an unforeseen side effect of our blood oath. The longer Sonam holds my gaze, the more my resolve crumbles. I try to justify it. Many hands make quick work, as the old saying goes. Wen may be a bumbling idiot, and Sooah has yet to prove her worth, but if I don’t do something to save them, the captain might do something stupid—like attacking ten demons head-on.
In the end, I suppose this could serve me well.
“I wouldn’t eat them, if I were you,” I say smoothly to Bao. “They’re utterly foul.”
The boar demon’s nostrils flare. “Foul?”
“Terrible,” I clarify. “Disgusting. That one there? A demon turned her tongue into a stew. One bite, and they were sick for weeks. Isn’t that right?”
The captain bristles but ends up nodding quickly. “It—she speaks the truth.”
“You lie,” Bao replies, though the hesitation in his tone bodes well for us.
“You’re welcome to check her mouth,” I say casually. He’s right. Iamlying. But since he did not ask me a direct question, I’m free to spin my web. So long as he doesn’t realize the context of my mistruths, I can say whatever I well please. It comes down to a matter of skill, twisting words and their meaning to my advantage. “Humans these days leave a terrible aftertaste. I think it’s something in the water they drink. They pollute everything they touch.”
The boar demon nods toward another among his group—a river spirit, judging by the silvery scales he has instead of flesh or fur—who grasps Sooah sharply by the chin and forces her mouth open for all to see. There’s a murmur of agreement, perhaps even intrigue. The guard doesn’t shy away from the attention, puffing out her chest instead of shrinking away. Her lack of tongue is nothing to be ashamed of. To her, it’s a badge she wears with pride.
Unfortunately, my carefully chosen lies aren’t enough.
“Meat is meat,” the boar says with a huff. “Someone start fire and—”
“Absolutely not,” Sonam snaps, drawing his sword. Impulsive as ever.
“What are you doing?” I hiss. “Let me handle this.”
“Use your head. They never had any intention of letting us go.”
I look around at all the sharpened blades and axes the boar’s little troupe wields, grips knuckle-white and muscles ready to swing. They’re practically vibrating out of their skin looking for a fight. Hunger—true hunger—is easily spotted. It’s in the smacking of lips and erratic breathing. It’s in the way they can’t stop looking at the three humans in the center of their camp.
I run my tongue over the front of my teeth. What a pain. Sparing Sonam a fleeting glance, I shift my weight and bend my knees, allowing my sharp nails to grow. He nods in understanding.
Together, we strike.
Sonam runs toward the center of the camp, and with a quick swipe of his blade sets his friends loose. They’re quick on the uptake, snatching up the weapons the demons confiscated and threw into a pile a few paces away. Our odds are better now that it’s four against ten, but I can’t afford to be complacent.
Wen picks up a discarded bow and a quiver of arrows, swiftly running to the opposite side of the encampment to offer himself a better vantage point. I’d all but written him off as nothing morethan a loudmouthed fool, but he’s quick on his feet. A slippery little thing. He curses when his first few arrows miss. With a quick shake of his hand, he readjusts his grip to try again. He picks demons off one at a time, each of his arrows finding their mark, though the fool doesn’t hit anything vital.
Sooah, I notice next, prefers to fight with a pair of twin daggers. It’s no wonder she’s covered in all those scars. She’s practically a one-woman army, given her sheer size and impressive strength. She uses her mass to her advantage, charging demons at full speed. There’s nothing to do but pray when her unstoppable force comes barreling toward you.
And then there’s Sonam. That awful, curt, genuine eyesore and unwanted blot on my life.
He’s… mesmerizing.
In a violent sort of way.
Coated in blood, teeth bared like an animal, his blade screaming as it slices through flesh and bone and air. His movements are fluid, chaining together in an onslaught of well-placed cuts and stabs. Well-practiced, but not rigid with formality. He fights like it’s a dance, every step as effortless as the flow of a stream. It hurts my eyes to look at him, so bright and brilliant that I may as well be staring directly at the sun. The Demon Hunter of Jian. I suddenly understand why he holds such a title. He kills my kind with impunity. No hesitation, no remorse. He is uncatchable smoke, a specter with a pulse, slitting throats and skewering hearts as though it were a race against Death.
He moves in to strike a three-eyed tiger demon, but his enemy is quick, ducking out of the way before the captain has a chance to sever. With a powerful swipe of its claw, the demon sends his dao flying out of hand; it lands out of reach with a cold, hard clatter. The captain stumbles back, falling out of the way as the demon attacks again.
My heart leaps into my throat. I refuse to die because of this bastard’s overconfidence. I rip and tear and maul my way to get to him. Just as the tiger opens its jaws—
Something whips out, lashing the demon directly in the eye. A weighted dagger tied securely to the end of a long, thin rope. The captain is already back on his feet, handling the rope dart with startling control. It is a viper at his command, snapping out and around with the faintest guide of his hand. The pointed tip of the dagger screams with fury as it slices through the air, the sharp crack of the rope as he releases and pulls back as formidable as lightning.
He deliberately snakes the rope around his legs, his arms, even his neck to create constant momentum, flagellating anyone who attempts to draw near. Sonam stands in a maelstrom of his own making. With one final swing, he sends the dagger flying out. It embeds itself into the tiger’s skull, killing the demon in an instant.
