Page 54 of Huntress

He understood taking retaliatory action in response to the humans building a nest in the rats’ territory. If they’d found nothing but the bones of humans and hunters in that pile, he wouldn’t have cared.

The sight of that kodama, however, had changed everything. All the harmless little creatures any decent demon would deem off-limits would have been enough for his father to step in and exterminate the vermin. As he continued running, the demon grumbled irritably. In this one single instance, the hunters weren’t the bad guys. That didn’t mean he was going to stick around and cheer on the losing side.

His thoughts turned to the girl once more. His owner. The rational part of his brain understood that his being tied to her wasn’t totally her fault, but it was easy to blame her. The way she’d accepted his hatred gave him both justification and further outrage. If she wouldn’t fight back, if she wouldn’t treat him like the others did, he would eventually be forced to admit that he was part of the problem.

He’d thought she’d fight his decision to leave, that she’d drag him back and force him to stay. But then he’d run, and she’d just… let him go.

She wasn’t even angry about it. The idiot was hurt by his decision to run for it; he could feel it, and gods damn it pissed him off that it made him think twice. More than anything, it greatly disturbed him to still feel the flavor of her emotions when he’d already put miles between them.

That connection needed to be broken, and this was the easiest solution. Scowling again, he realized he was angry that she’d allowed him to leave, though she clearly wanted him to stay. There had been truth to her words when she’d promised him protection, and part of him had expected her to live up to it.

He had no idea where he was going, how to get there, or how to survive on his own. The fucking collar robbed him of his magic, and he lacked enough experience to know how to manage without it. He was a predator, and they’d left him harmless and vulnerable.

He wasn’t much older than the hunter woman. At least, not from a demon’s perspective. He’d still been under the full protection and care of his parents and packmates. He was no more than a youth in their opinions, and they were all he knew. His ability to live any semblance of a normal life had been destroyed right along with them.

He changed into his hound form, stretching his legs and running hard, putting as much distance between himself, the hunters, and their nest as quickly as he could. Mutt wanted nothing to do with them, or that woman’s false kindness. He’d seen the brutality she was capable of, and he saw in her interactions that she acted just as cold and heartless as the others. She didn’t care. She couldn’t. The hunters never taught her how.

Though he had to admit, her emotions seemed in line with the words she’d spoken. In her own mind, she’d been speaking the truth, but she probably believed her own lies deeply enough that it had all become enmeshed.

Up ahead came the sound of raucous laughter, and he swerved to the left to avoid them. He slowed to a creeping walk, shoulders hunched, teeth bared. Had he run right into the elusive rat colony? He’d gone further from the nest than he’d expected them to be. Besides, they preferred to spend most of their time underground, coming to the surface to hunt and scavenge.

Belly low, he inched forward until he could see through the underbrush, and he held a growl at bay so he wouldn’t reveal himself. There were two demons, and he recognized one as the leader of the nest’s resident hunter squad. Jeshua.

He’d pegged the old, lifeless one, Franklin, as a demon in disguise from the first day they’d arrived. Jeshua had done a much better job of hiding what he really was.

He didn’t look as harmless out here in the woods, bathed in sunlight. His skin hung loose, his eyes too large, too black, and glittering unnaturally. A long, whip-like tail curled on the ground behind him. His limbs were long and muscled; his face a touch too pointed.

The air around him seemed darker, as though the creature exuded its own shadows, but the hound knew better. This was the effect of Jeshua’s magic. Magic he’d kept completely concealed until now.

The other one wore his own skin, though he looked mostly human, with a long tail and huge, delicate rat ears. He wore a carved wooden mask, hiding his face, with layers of bone decorating his neck, wrists, and ankles. Strong muscles were revealed by his lack of a shirt, and a deerskin breechclout stopped just high enough to show those anklets. His feet were bare, toes curled into the dirt.

“They should be arriving any minute now. I’ve already told those stupid rats that the Captain is mine,” Jeshua said. “I’m going to take her apart one piece at a time, keeping her awake and aware as I eat her alive. I’ll suck every last bit of meat and sinew from her bones, and when I’m done, I’ll fuck her skull as a reward for a meal well served.”

The images he conjured were enough to make the wolfhound sick, but it was quickly replaced by unexpected anger. Her life belonged to him. This monster was honing in on something he’d already claimed as his own. A bitter taste hit his mouth. He’d escaped, so why should he care? She could live or die at her leisure; it should be nothing to him.

The pair laughed again, and the demon hound shuddered. Their jaws unhinged a little too far, showing pointy, serrated teeth. An earthy, cloying scent rose in the air that made him want to gag.

He’d gotten a few things wrong. The huntress wasn’t fighting rats at the behest of other hunters. Jeshua–the real Jeshua–was dead, and this went deeper than a turf war. The rats were merely pawns of the puppeteer.

His hackles raised. He knew exactly what he was looking at, and he didn’t like it one bit. Jeshua was a piper, and the spooky bastard standing next to him was his necromancer.

Rumor had it they treated human flesh like a delicacy these days. But more succulent and coveted was the magic of the fae, and the hunters were the easiest way to get it, since most of the actual fae had disappeared into Underhill. These creatures had created a threat in order to lure more hunters here. It was smart, and insidious.

‘This isn’t my problem.’ Without his magic, he had no desire to go up against creatures that hunted the fae. There were few species in this world savage enough, stupid enough, and strong enough to be successful. It was best to avoid them.

“They’ll get started soon. If you don’t watch out, you won’t get what you want. Those rats will take the spoils for themselves,” the necromancer said.

“They wouldn’t dare. They know their place. Come, we will watch the hunters struggle against their fate, and fail.” The creature wearing Jeshua’s skin hissed. He raised a hand and disappeared, quickly followed by the necromancer.

Taking a sniff of the air to make sure he was truly alone, the hound demon rose to his feet, taking a look back toward the nest. The bodies of the hunter woman’s squad would never be found, and the Hunter Clans would assume he’d died right along with them. He’d created a no-lose situation. He could leave, wash his hands of them, and be free.

The demon sighed, torn between freedom and the infuriating desire to make sure that damned woman survived this fight. He took one step, then another, and soon he was running, growls escaping from his throat.

‘What the fuck is wrong with me?’

Chapter thirteen

Chapter 13