Page 51 of Demon's Bane

“It won’t be as bad as the Veil,” I promise. “And even easier than the portal I used in Beech Bay. The magick here makes it feel seamless.”

Joan nods and steels herself with a deep breath as I lead us forward through the portal.

In an instant, we’re in a thick forest nestled into a valley between two towering mountain ranges. The air here is cool and crisp, even the heat of the summer having little effect so far north.

Joan drops my hand and paces a few steps ahead, shaking her head and rolling her shoulders to dispel the portal’s magick. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that,” she says with a breathless laugh.

Together, we make our way down a well-trodden path beneath a canopy of pines. It doesn’t take long to reach the outskirts of the village, with wood-framed cabins scattered throughout the thinning forest, and demons going about their daily business.

It also doesn’t take long for us to draw attention.

Turned heads, curious glances, a few quiet murmurs of voices as my kin and neighbors take notice of the witch in their midst. That attention grows the closer we get to the center of town, and Joan inches closer to my side, body tense.

It takes everything in me not to snarl my irritation at anyone who stares, anyone who might make her uncomfortable. My instincts would have me tether her to me with my tail around her waist and wrap her in my wing so no one can see her, but I refrain. It would only fuel the whispers, and I would not do anything to make us more of a spectacle than we are.

“Rhett!”

Turning, I find my sister Halla touching down on the path just behind us, scattering dust as she wings herself to the ground.

“You’re back,” Halla says, eyes fixed on Joan as she approaches. “And you brought a guest?”

Despite my best efforts, my tail flicks up of its own accord. I have just enough restraint to keep it from wrapping around Joan, but my sister misses nothing.

Halla’s keen gaze darts between the two of us. She takes in how close Joan and I are standing, the shifting of my tail, the placement of my wing. When she meets my eye again, I give her the barest nod of confirmation.

My sister, thank the Goddess, also takes it for the silent request it is not to speak, not to ask about it.

I am not ashamed of my mate, but the very last thing Joan needs is to be overwhelmed and interrogated by my well-meaning but often overly enthusiastic sister.

“This is Joan,” I tell Halla. “She’s here to help get to the bottom of what’s been happening with the crystal thefts.”

Halla’s expression melts into a smile as she steps forward and offers her hand. Joan takes it, seeming a little bemused when Halla grips her forearm rather than her hand, as I’ve observed humans are more likely to do. Still, Joan accepts the greeting and does her best to mimic it as she returns Halla’s smile.

“I’m Halla, Rhett’s sister. It’s wonderful to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Joan says.

The moment seems suspended somewhere out of time.

How many years did I spend running from this place, toward a life I was sure waited for me somewhere far from here? How many nights did I dream of finding a mate in one of the far-flung cities I explored?

In those dreams, I thought perhaps one day I’d bring my mate home for a visit to meet Halla and my mother… and my father. We would stay for the day and then return to the life we’d built for ourselves, and my family would see the sense it made for me to live my life elsewhere, to make a home and a future somewhere with her.

In none of those dreams did I imagine anything remotely resembling this.

A mate who is justifiably wary of me and our bond. A mountain of trouble brewing between our two realms. A future that has no clear path, two lives in two different worlds.

A family left devastated by grief and a village who will certainly look on my mate with suspicion.

“Come on,” Halla says, shaking me from my thoughts and stepping ahead of us down the path toward the gathering space at the center of the village. “If you’re here to help, then we better get started.”

16

Joan

I’ve lost count of the number of eyes on me and Rhett as we enter the center of the village.

Peeking out from windows or glanced over shoulders or blatantly staring as we make our way through town, it’s enough to have me jumpy and tense.

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