Dek and Mal poked their heads from my hair and began humming the theme to Jaws. Lord Ha’an glanced at them and took a slow, careful step away. He couldn’t have been familiar with the movie, but apparently the music of imminent death translated well across the demon-human cultural divide.
I didn’t stop walking toward the corpses. One of the Osul bared its teeth, rolling its eyes at me, white and huge. The demon half lunged, just a feint, a bluff—and a heartbeat later, it was slumping sideways into the grass. For a terrible moment I thought it was dead—but no, its ribs still moved. Punched the hell out, was all.
Soft giggles. A hiss. Raw hopped on top of the unconscious Osul, dragging his claws through its thick silver fur. He’d jammed a Red Sox baseball cap through the spikes of his hair, but it was stained with old dried blood, perhaps from the earlier night’s fight. The other Osul shrank away, ears flat, tails dragging—staring at him with contrition and fear. A toothy grin touched his sharp mouth—all teeth, all black tongue.
I kept walking. It was easy. I’d had years of practice at pretending I was hard. Lord Ha’an caught up with me in one long stride.
“They are very young,” he said, quietly. “Born inside the prison, with no memory of their Kings.”
“They’ll remember now,” I said.
The area where the humans had been murdered was tidier than I expected. Flapjack ribbons of skin were folded in a neat pile, while bones had been set aside—heads carefully detached. I was sure it was the missing kids from the cabin—it made sense the rogue demons would have brought fresh meat home for their clan.
I counted six people. Blood everywhere, blood on my boots, pooled and sticky, and hot. The scent was wild, bitter. Made me dizzy—or maybe that was the boys, slipping in and out of shadows like smoke and wolves. Close, careful. Guarding me.
Aaz approached the dead, slinking low on all fours, nostrils flared. Zee crouched near me, eyes closed to slits, ears pressed flat against his skull.
I watched him, wary. “What?”
He was silent a moment too long, head tilted as though listening. Aaz tore a spike from his spine and used it to poke a flap of human skin, carefully, as if it might resurrect sans bones and muscle, and attack. Dek and Mal hissed to themselves, breath scalding hot against my scalp.
“Do not know,” said the little demon, softly. “Something . . . wrong. Something . . . strange.”
I saw Grant limping across the encampment toward us—let my gaze linger, taking in his gaunt frame, hollow eyes—and turned to Lord Ha’an. “Tell me what happened.”
Lord Ha’an’s broad chest rose and fell against the armor of his thick braids and silver chains. “These humans were brought here and killed. Supposedly, I was told, so that the rest of the clan could share in the spoils. Those responsible tried to escape my punishment. We captured all but one, and she is still missing.”
“Great. And the ones you caught?”
“I ate their hearts.”
I glanced sideways at him. Lord Ha’an noticed and studied me. “Do not tell me I should have offered mercy?”
“No,” I replied, simply. “I was just wondering how you are.”
I felt his gaze on me—intense, searching. I pretended I didn’t notice. “Are you losing control over your people?”
His silence lasted longer this time. “They believe I have failed to protect them. And I have, young Queen. I have. Nor does it help that they see me obeying a human. A human who has done little to earn their obedience. Besides killing them,” he added, after a moment. “You inherited power, yes . . . but what is that?”
“Nothing. I never wanted to be anyone’s Queen.”
“But the mantle falls upon you . . . and for you we sacrifice much. Perhaps we will sacrifice even more if the Aetar must be fought again.” Lord Ha’an looked at his hands, those thin, deadly fingers. “My people hunger for the hunt. That is something I cannot control.”
I thought about what Blood Mama had said. “I won’t let them kill.”
“And yet some of my warriors did just that.” Bitterness touched his voice. “It would have been wiser to allow them a controlled hunt of your world’s undesirables. To sate their desire.”
“Playing God,” I muttered. “No.”
Lord Ha’an gave me a sharp look. “And those of my kind who have been killed because you considered us your enemies?” He leaned close, ignoring the warning hisses coming from my hair. “I can forgive those deaths. But you risk too much, you risk us all, when you ignore your own power. You have a God inside you, young Queen. Respect that. Fear that. I do not know how you have resisted being consumed, but your freedom cannot last.” He looked at the encampment, and in a soft voice added, “I remember the feeling of its power inside our Kings, inside us, as it controlled our hearts.”