Chapter Twelve

An Unwanted Attraction

The arrival of water was especially welcome. A drink would help restore Alodie’s senses. Water possessed powerful properties. Blessed by a priest at baptism, it saved souls. The least it could do for her was set her to rights.

The men didn’t need to be told to bring it first to their leader. They set the barrel in the sand before him. Instead of drinking, he filled a wooden cup, offering it to her.

Slowly and reverently, she took it and brought it to her mouth. The smell set her body alight with something not entirely holy. It touched her lips. Cool. Then her tongue. Sweet. And oh-so-welcome. The sensation of it moving down her throat was no less than a potent kind of pagan magic. A healing spell.

When she could drink no more, it was the demon leader’s turn. He drank deeply. The Adam’s apple of his throat dipped and rose. The thick pelt of his beard was not a uniform color. Some of the hairs were a light brown, almost an ashy hue. Some pure gold. Maybe it was a trick of the light. Which ones caught the sun from any given angle and which didn’t.

When he offered her another drink, she accepted, staring into his face. The storm had made him wan. The loss of his brother of the milk had stripped away a layer. He was trying to rebuild the walls around him, but she’d already glimpsed what he was trying to hide. It made him less a demon. Far less than she was comfortable with. She would have to remember that he’d stolen her.

She dropped her gaze. He wasn’t so interesting as to merit such a detailed visual examination.

Too late. The one called Hrolf flashed a grin. “I think she likes what she sees, Longsword.”

Alodie went hot with indignation. How dare he speculate on what he thought she liked the look of?

Hrolf was young. Probably not more than…what, eighteen or so? He’d not outgrown the lankiness of youth and had the sort of easy smile that on one of her people would have been infectious. His beard was still straggly, the hairy patches drawing extra attention to a few bright red spots marring his skin.

The only thing to move were the demon leader’s eyes as he shot the youngster a dangerous glance. He growled out a warning from between clenched teeth. “Let her alone.”

The youth didn’t need to be told a second time and went off to make himself look busy. He returned a minute later, his arms laden with a pile of fabric, which he let fall onto the beach before his leader. “Just like you asked.”

The demon leader began picking through the pile. Cloaks. He stood and held them out, one at a time, snapping them open to assess them individually. He held each collar to his nose, presumably to sniff out how much of the previous owner clung to the material.

“Here.” He held out a mantel of vivid green.

It was the finest among them. She opened her mouth to protest, but he spoke first. “Fit for a princess.”

Bristling, she glared at him. “I don’t see how that matters now.”

He stayed silent a moment, then replied in a soft murmur. “It matters.”

She remained silent, ill at ease in the knowledge of who she was—or wasn’t. What will become of me when he discovers my deception?

“Stand up.”

“I…” The wool looked heavy. The garments against her skin were damp. She shivered. When no other objection appeared in her mind, she ignored his outstretched hand and pushed to her feet.

The way he placed the cloak about her shoulders—so gently—was enough to drive anyone mad. Foul demon. Why couldn’t he have been rough and vulgar and…and, oh, all around horrible to her?

He turned her and brought the ends of the cloak to meet about her chin. The sides of his fingers grazed her chin. The touch was unexpected. And sort of…secret, in a delicious sort of way. Something between them that neither would acknowledge, but each were intensely aware of.

Alodie shivered again, but this time, not because she was cold. Avoiding his eyes lest he catch sight of what she herself didn’t want to allow, she looked down to the garment. The green was the shade of new shoots and the wool was as heavy as it looked. It was certain to be warm.

Fine things weren’t for the likes of her, so it was just as well she’d never wanted them. This cloak was far and away the best item she’d ever possessed. Truth be told, she liked it already.

She swallowed. He was studying her and she could no longer keep her gaze averted. “My thanks,” she whispered.

The only response came as a slight nod. This time, he looked away, grabbed a cloak for himself, and swung it around his shoulders, batting his tangled hair out from under the collar. He called Hrolf back to collect and distribute the remaining items.

While the young man went about his duty, the demon leader reached out a hand to her. Without thinking, she reached back. He took her fingers gently between his own. “Sit. You’ll need more water.”

He helped her down, then sat beside her. He drew another draught of the sweet, clear spring water. She took the cup he offered and drank deeply. He stayed close, watching her.

Alodie took a breath, set the drinking vessel aside, and gently licked the last drops away.

The demon leader’s gaze fell to her lips. Alodie’s mouth parted. Warmth unfurled in her belly. Her breathing deepened. A sort of deceptive quiet fell between them. Deceptive because it was anything but silent and still. It was the same taut hush of a rope strained to its breaking point.

She looked away. Not because she didn’t want him to kiss her. Because…because… Oh God help her, but she dared not give it a name.

When one of the men came and the demon was distracted answering questions and giving directions, she felt for the prayer beads in her pouch. The last time she’d touched them, she’d been safe in the service of the princess. If she’d been told then what was to come, she’d never have believed the person reporting the tale. The beads were there. They’d survived the storm.

But she didn’t take them out.

It would be so easy to believe that God had forsaken her. But God didn’t work that way. He didn’t turn His back on His people. He didn’t abandon those in greatest need.

Was her punishment, for sharing her body with the blacksmith without the benefit of marriage, deepening? Having been stolen from her home should have been enough. Having the Devil work his way into her body, making her feel unspeakable things for a demon—that was far too high a price to pay.

She bowed her head. She used to soothe herself by dismissing it as having happened only once. But she should never have discounted how grave a sin she’d committed.

This…thing here…he was a demon. A demon. She stroked the edge of the cloak. It would be a terrible mistake to forget what he was and carelessly start thinking of him, nor any of them, as a man—no matter what the unclothed forms sprawled like flotsam behind her might suggest to a benighted observer.

But nobody there on the ship last night could deny the one who sat beside her was possessed of a heart. What she’d witnessed, she’d caught only through flashes of lightning.

It’d been enough.

That evening, they ate an animal the men had stolen from someone else’s snare. Afterward, Alodie’s belly was warm with fresh food. The meat had been gamy, but it’d been a far sight better than what she’d had to endure aboard ship, and would no doubt soon suffer again.

Night fell upon the world. The men bedded down approximately where they’d eaten, drunk on whatever barrels had been brought in the cart of supplies. At least they’d dressed.

Nudity in the normal way of things made little impression upon her. But there was a limit to how much flopping male flesh she wanted to endure. They were strong, yes, and enough above well fed to not have to worry about being called lean, but their flaccid manhoods weren’t half as interesting as they thought they were. The delight they took in pissing contests and waving their penises in each other’s faces, then laughing uproariously, held no charm.

The leader of the demons opened his new cloak, spread it next to the dying fire, then withdrew his sword. He studied it for a long interval before laying it down. Alodie took her half. He took his. They were again side by side, staring up at the stars.

The summer night air was pleasantly cool. They weren’t touching, so his warmth couldn’t have reached her. There must have been something wrong with her, for it seemed as if it did.

Alodie spoke, choosing each word with care to avoid mistakes. She needed him to understand one important question. “Why did you take me?”

No answer came. She dared a look, turning her head to peer over at him. He was in profile.

“Am I a prize? Or do you want me so you can extort a ransom?”

The demon had been so specific when he came. He’d wanted the princess and the princess alone, and had since proved his words had been no kind of tactic. She’d thought about it endlessly and still she’d not devised any ideas beyond her original speculations.

“I suppose you could say you’re a prize. Of sorts.” His voice was hollow.

“There is something you’re not telling me.”

He rolled over, putting his back to her. “Go to sleep, princess.”

She scowled, ruffled at being commanded. “I want to know everything. I deserve as much.”

“True. Go to sleep.”

She wanted to stomp her foot down on his hand and make the man scream in agony. Anything to get a reaction out of him. He was too calm. Reserved, almost. No. Not reserved. Resigned. That was it. Resigned. And resigned was not what a demon should have been.