Chapter 11
Eleven
A fter a few hours, we came to a little shack in the woods. Vaelor materialized and motioned to it. “Here it is.”
“The inn? I don’t see it.”
“You’ll need to put blood on the forepost of the entryway.”
I gave him a side-eye. “What for?”
“It is the price of entry. An agreement to the terms of staying. That you’ll do no ill to those who are inside.”
“And you? You don’t have blood.”
“We are traveling in the same party so only one of us needs to give blood to enter. But that means the spirits can’t follow us unless they have a body.”
He moved toward the door. I noticed his wing was still broken, and I wondered if he had been hurting the entire journey here.
“There is one more thing,” he added. “The inn is designed to be a sanctuary for demons. As open-minded as they are, you are only a human. I’ll need you to pretend to be my slave. Otherwise, they may not take us seriously.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t that what I am?”
His jaw clenched. “You must let me do the talking, keep your eyes down, and do as you’re told.”
“I know how to be a slave.”
He snorted. “You could have fooled me.”
I drew the sword and lightly cut the middle finger of my right hand. “Do I just press it to the post or do I do some sort of symbol or something?”
“Press it and say, ‘I agree not to inflict or encourage harm on any in this establishment.’”
I repeated his words as I placed my finger on the post.
He grunted. “Now open the door and hold it for me, human.”
I suppressed a sigh. We were back to commands and condescension. But I did as he ordered, and Vaelor swept past me as if he were royalty himself.
I stepped in after him. And gaped.
The small, lopsided shack was much bigger on the inside than it appeared on the outside. On the bottom floor was a large bar with demons sitting at tables. A stairway went up that presumably led to the rooms.
Tugging nervously at the strap of my bag, I followed Vaelor to the counter. My gaze drifted across the room, lingering on the demons gathered throughout the inn.
“Know your place, slave.” Vaelor didn’t look at me, yet somehow he seemed aware of exactly where my attention had wandered. Swallowing my unease, I lowered my eyes to the floor.
“We’d like a room for the night,” he said to the demon behind the counter.
The creature sat perched on a stool. He had pointed ears and stubby little legs—a goblin.
“A Spiritu Malignos spirit. We haven’t had one of you in a while.” The goblin leaned forward, looking interested. “And you are traveling with a human.”
I risked a glance and noticed the hungry way he leered at me. I lowered my gaze and took a step closer to Vaelor.
“We have money. We can pay,” Vaelor said.
“In that case, it’ll be three gold pieces a night.”
My eyes widened. So much.
“Slave, get the money,” Vaelor muttered.
Imagining I was Erlinen, I replied swiftly and obediently. “Yes, my lord.” I reached into the bag and pulled out the gold and put it down on the counter.
The demon took the money and turned to reach for a key hanging behind him on the wall. “Room thirteen.”
Vaelor nodded and turned away. After taking the key, I quickly followed him. One glance over my shoulder told me that the goblin was still watching us with a much too interested gaze. A shiver rolled through me, and I hurried to catch up with Vaelor, who was mounting the stairs two at a time.
“This is supposed to be a welcoming place?”
“No, I said it was a non judgemental place,” he said.
“I’m pretty sure the price is highway robbery.”
“The inn is hidden. The cost is heightened for that reason. Demons will pay dearly for a little peace of mind.”
He came to the room and motioned for me to unlock it. I stuck the key in the lock and twisted before pulling open the heavy door. Vaelor didn’t wait and faded straight through into the room. I hurried inside, hauling the door shut and locking it tight. After all, I was in a building full of demons.
I heard a thud and spun around. Vaelor had slipped to his knees. He emitted a long groan. “Denara, my wing is not healing. I need you to slip it back into place.”
I set down the bag and hurried to his side. Gods, only a few hours ago I would have thought twice about approaching him at all, but the pain he was going through—it was my fault. He’d risked himself to protect me when I had run off and put us both in a dangerous situation.
“Why didn’t you ask me to do this sooner?” I asked.
“The discomfort was lessened while I was possessing your mount. I was unwilling to pause while we were out in the open.”
I studied the wing. The bone was broken in half, each side angled away from the other. I took a sharp breath. How had he hidden the pain so well while we were checking in? “I’ve never adjusted a wing before,” I said. Truth be told, I had never set a bone before.
“Just push it back together and hopefully that will trigger the healing.”
I reached out and ran my fingers over his soft and leathery wing. Vaelor shuddered.
“Get on with it,” he said in a gruff voice.
“I have to make sure I know what I am doing.” I leaned up on my toes, examining, making certain I understood where the two bones needed to meet. Lightly, I touched the edge of his wing near the break. Another low moan escaped him. I hadn’t realized his wings were so sensitive.
“I think I have it.” I hesitated. “This is really going to hurt.”
Vaelor gripped the bedpost and nodded. “Do it. Quickly.”
He shut his eyes as I laid my hands on the two parts of the wing and got into a firm stance. I’d need to apply a good amount of pressure to snap them together.
Gritting my teeth, I pushed .
The two bones were wrenched into place. Vaelor let out a pain-filled roar, his nails digging into the bedpost. His head tipped forward, and his breaths came heavily as he fought to breathe. “That… was torture.”
I retreated a step as Vaelor rose to his feet. Already, I could see the bones mending together. I watched in wonder. To heal so quickly.
He stretched his wings once in the small space before pulling them against his back. He released a small breath of relief.
“Feel better?” I asked.
“Much better.”
“Thank you… for back there. For saving my life.”
He released a low growl. “You still fight me when I attempt to possess you.”
“It’s not easy for me.” I looked down and then up again. “But it doesn’t hurt. Not the way it did when Raxus took over my body. Why does it feel so different?”
He was quiet for a long moment, but then said, “Maybe you trust me more than him.”
I did. Although that wasn’t much of a compliment. “A rat could clear that hurdle.” Raxus was a monster who yearned for my death in the most violent and torturous of ways. Vaelor was… what was he? Indifferent. No, that didn’t feel right.
With Vaelor, there was a part of me that wanted to give in to him—to grant him complete surrender. Too many times, his words had been a dark caress on my soul, and even though the rational side of me resisted, an instinctual part sought to grant him everything he desired.
And that terrified me.
I was only here helping him because I had no other choice. Whatever this connection between us meant, I wouldn’t let it get to me. I wouldn’t let him play with my emotions and make me vulnerable.
And still, if I hoped for any chance of surviving until I could escape and find Gerand, I needed to do this. I needed to trust the untrustworthy. I needed to surrender my will to my enemy.
“What did you do to become an outcast?” I asked.
He paused and glanced over his shoulder at me. “What did you say?”
“Everybody calls you The Waiting Ruin, and I was wondering what you did to create such a formidable reputation?”
“Reputations grant protection. A carefully crafted one can dispel much grief.”
“Except, is there honor in being an outcast?”
He stalked away from me, his shoulders tense.
“Death and destruction follow those who seek to maintain their honor above everything else.
The inheritance magic bound to my estate was the only reason I kept my title after becoming an outcast of the government.
They knew I would defend it until my last breath because honor demanded nothing less.
A curse and a noose, it never gives back what it promises, never gives you the proper answers.
It's a false altar at which even demons worship.”
“And yet you keep the land for Aeria all the same.”
“My land is a gateway into Aeria. My people should not suffer, even if some are prone to inflicting suffering. But it no longer matters. Once my brother steps onto the property, the inheritance magic will recognize him. Lanzin will take over now that I am dead.”
“Is that who you had Erlinen write a letter to?”
His brow pulled into a scowl. “You overheard me in the library.”
“Yes.” Right before I’d run out of the manor and almost gotten killed. I hesitated, but then plunged ahead. “I saw that portrait of you and your siblings back at the manor.”
His expression tightened. “What of it?”
“Where is your sister?”
He glared at me, his jaw clenching. It was clear he was about to lash out. But instead, he said, “She’s dead.”
“And your parents?”
“Also dead.”
“And your wife is dead,” I whispered.
He gripped the hearth of the fireplace as if he wanted to snap it in half. “Is there a point to this?”
“You let your servants go.”
He released the fireplace. “Excuse me?”
“Erlinen mentioned you allowed the other servants to depart and that she and Feron insisted on staying on.”
Vaelor gazed at me, clearly uncertain where I was going. “Why are you bringing this up?”
I stepped up to him. “You want me to trust you? To surrender myself to you? Then I need to understand what sort of male you are.”
His eyes narrowed. “So this is a test?”
“For my sake. I am searching for something to grab onto.”