Page 3 of Huntress

“She will receive the finest care we have to offer while in our custody,” he said, ignoring the obvious hostility in Elsie’s expression. She stared back with the distinct impression that she wouldn’t be getting along with this old man.

“Such were the arrangements,” Stolas said dryly. “You’ll be compensated handsomely for looking after the child. Should we find that her care is lax, the consequences will be severe.”

Elsie didn’t look up at him. She recognized the tone of his voice, and knew what she’d see on his face. The nightmares it had given her had frightened her awake many times. She didn’t want to see it.

The general cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably. He’d seen it, too. The way Stolas’ face kind of stretched when he threatened someone, his eyes taking on a hellish glow, showing how inhuman he really was. How capable he was of carrying out any threat he made. The general was a demon hunter, but he’d never fought a demon of Stolas’ caliber.

“I will reiterate a few of the things we discussed within my daughter’s presence, so there is no confusion. If you cut her hair or force her to wear your garish, antiquated uniforms, I will deal with you personally,” Santa Muerte warned. “Your organization weaponizes conformity as a means of control. As such, any coercion you use to turn my child into one of you is a breach of contract, and punishment will be hand-delivered with extreme prejudice. Her sense of self is to remain intact, are we clear?”

“Yes, ma’am, that condition was very clear,” the general responded seriously. He clearly had his own agenda regarding Elsie’s presence among his men, but he also displayed absolutely no desire to piss off the Goddess of Death.

Santa Muerte squeezed her daughter’s hand once more, then bent down and kissed her forehead. This was it. Elsie’s heart fluttered with fear, and her throat constricted as the tears started anew. She couldn’t stop them. She clutched her mother’s robe desperately, hoping she would change her mind.

“Will you be back soon?” Elsie asked, her voice squeaky with all the sadness she tried to contain. “Three days, okay?”

“I can’t make any promises about when I’ll be back, mija,” Santa Muerte said, a light frown on her lips. “I promise that I will come for you as soon as I can. Your father is a difficult and powerful man. No matter how long it takes, I will think of you every day.”

She took one of the bright orange flowers crowning her hair and tucked it into Elsie’s. A marigold, the flower of death.

“If there’s ever anything you must tell me, send me a message in the petals. You know how,” Santa Muerte reminded her. She did, and while it was comforting knowing she could reach her mother no matter what dimension or world she was in, it wasn’t enough.

“I already miss you,” Elsie whimpered. The fear and grief were overwhelming, burrowing under her skin and making her heart hammer an uneven rhythm.

“I know, darling. I already miss you, too.”

The shadow wolf disappeared in an eruption of black smoke, and Elsie’s panic rose. She wouldn’t see any of them for a long time; she just knew it. She wrapped her arms around her mother, clinging tight. Santa Muerte allowed it for a full minute, then kissed her forehead and looked to Stolas.

The demon pried Elsie off as the girl kept reaching for her mother, and for a moment, the goddess’ true form was visible even to the general. He gasped as the ancient image of the grim reaper stood with a bone-white grin. Santa Muerte was more than a reaper. She was the mother of all reapers. Elsie blinked, and the skeleton was gone. Her mother’s soft face slid into place once more.

“Be a good girl, Elspeth. Stay true to yourself and what I have taught you, no matter what you learn here. Remain pure,” Santa Muerte pleaded with her.

“Yes, Mamá,” Elsie promised through tears. Stolas set her on the ground but continued to hold on to her so she couldn’t run back to Santa Muerte.

“Promise me you will stay with the hunters until I return. Do not come looking for me. He will find you, and he will hurt you,” Santa Muerte said seriously.

“I promise.” She tasted the salt of her tears in the back of her throat as her breath came in sharp, hiccuping gasps.

“As soon as I can,” she repeated, then vanished.

“Mamá, don’t leave me!” Elsie screamed, fighting against the demon’s hold. She tried to call her ethereal magic, but the marks on her throat heated alarmingly fast with her efforts, burning deep into her bones. No magic came. Elsie couldn’t even feel where her mother had gone to follow after her if she chose to defy Santa Muerte’s command. It was as though the magic had never existed.

“Elspeth,” Stolas growled, and she stilled, head held low, shoulders slumped. She knew better than to disobey when he used that tone. “Look at me, child.”

She looked up, his face swimming in her tears. Strict and frightening as he was, Stolas was her last hope. If he left her, it would be real. She’d be alone. The demon loved her in his own strange way, but he said it with actions, never words.

“This isn’t forever, we will return for you. Don’t forget what I taught you. Practice the ancient language. You must remember, it’s imperative to your future.”

She nodded, wiping tears and snot on her sleeve. “Okay, Stolas.”

“Good girl,” he praised, startling her into silence. Praise was a rare thing coming from him. He released her and took a step back. Elsie wanted to cling to him too, but he would never allow it. She’d just get scolded again.

“Goodbye,” she whispered. He bowed to her. The demon prince of a thousand hell dimensions, showing a mere child respect.

“Until we meet again.” He burst into feathers and flew away without a backward glance.

Tears flooded her vision, and Elsie’s chest heaved. She wanted to throw herself to the ground and scream, drowning in the depths of her grief. She wanted to be alone with her pain, but she wasn’t afforded even a single moment to compose herself. Elsie’s little hands balled into fists as she glared at the man towering over her.

“Well, you’ve certainly lived a full life, haven’t you, Miss Elspeth?” the general questioned in a way that didn’t sound like a question. Elsie contained herself, studying the hunter as closely as he studied her. He peered at her curiously, a glint of something Elsie didn’t like in his eyes.