To his shock and horror, it was the thrall from the university, the one he’d trailed to the tall man’s house. And worse, it was already upon its victim, razor-sharp teeth tearing at the man’s throat. As his screams choked off into a bloody gurgle, Des heard the sound of someone vomiting behind him.
Des slipped into the focused, trancelike state of battle. It was what he’d been trained to do from infancy: Don’t question, don’t think. React.
His sword was already drawn, his head down as he charged the demon. Every otherveritahe’d encountered would have stayed to enjoy its meal after going through the trouble of killing it. But not the thrall. It fled the scene immediately, impossibly fast on its long legs, and Des faced the split-second decision between treating the victim or going after it.
Des glanced at the man, blinking in surprise when he realized it was the one Aurelie had bumped into earlier. Unfortunately, it was too late to save him. The thrall had torn out his jugular, and there was no physician in Wisteria who could heal that. It couldn’t be a coincidence that this demon had showed up within ten feet of Aurelie Blake,again. He started to turn.
Someone tugged on Des’s arm, pulling him back.
“Help him!” a woman cried, gesturing toward the victim. “He’s my husband! We have two children and one on the way.” She cradled her stomach as tears spilled over her cheeks.
“I’m so sorry, madam. It’s too late.”
She began to wail as the crowd dispersed around them, no longer concerned now that they weren’t in danger.
Des glanced back toward the direction of the thrall and cursed. The demon was gone. A man was dead.
And Aurelie Blake was going to rue the day she’d crossed Destrier Whitlow.
By the time Des returned to the barracks to report to Commander Yew, his tail tucked between his legs as he admitted that he—a big, strong, scary demon hunter—had lost a notebook-wielding university student, Aurelie could have gone anywhere.
Commander Yew, to his credit, didn’t admonish Des, probably sensing that his shame was punishment enough. “There’s no question dark magic is involved, Whitlow. We’ve put our best senior guards on the case. Your responsibility was Miss Blake, and as I understand it, she’s come to no harm.”
“Sir, with all due respect, she’s been spotted near this thrall multiple times now. I believe she may have been visiting the thrall’s master when the attack occurred. She evaded me. Again.”
“Maybe she just doesn’t like you,” Yew replied, the only indication he was teasing Des a slight twinkle in his dark brown eyes.
“Oh, I’ve no doubt she doesn’t like me,” Des said. “But if shehas nothing to hide, why not make that abundantly clear so I’ll stop following her?”
“Take a seat, Whitlow.”
Des swallowed, doing as instructed. A man had died, and if he hadn’t allowed himself to be distracted by Aurelie, he would have saved his life. He deserved whatever punishment was coming.
“You’re my best lieutenant. You know it and so does everyone else here. To be frank, I only let you follow the Blake girl because I thought you needed a break. I should have known you’d take this as seriously as all your other duties.”
Des lowered his gaze, humiliated. “I see.”
“It’s not all bad,” Yew said, with more softness than Des had ever heard from him. “I’ve been trying to decide when to promote you, and I think the time has come.”
Des’s eyes shot up. He’d been a lieutenant for so long, he’d started to wonder if he’d die one. It wasn’t unlikely; most guards who died in service did so as lieutenants. Younger guards, like Gareth, came on as junior lieutenants and were generally watched closely by their seniors. If a guard made it to the rank of lieutenant commander, they’d survived enough demon encounters that they were likely to survive their service. It was those middle years one had to watch out for.
“Thank you, sir.” Des wondered if he was supposed to stand, what the proper protocol was.
“We’ll have a ceremony for you soon. By the end of the year, certainly. I’m relieving you of watching Miss Blake.”
“Sir, I’m convinced she has something to do with this surge in demon activity.”
“And I’m not. There have been more attacks throughout the whole kingdom recently, including in the provinces. Sightings of day-walkers are becoming more common. Whatever Aurelie Blake is doing here, she can’t possibly be responsible for all of it. Part of the reason I’m promoting you is because I want you on equal footing with the other members of the Iron Swords. Tracking and killingveritais where you belong.”
Two days ago, Des would have agreed wholeheartedly. It was all he’d ever wanted. But now, knowing that Aurelie Blake had been onto him all week, that she clearly didn’t fear demons the way any normal citizen would, that they seemed to appear whenever she left campus, Des couldn’t help thinking that he had work to do right here in Wisteria City.
“I don’t know what to say, sir.”
“Say thank you. And go get in a solid training session. You look like you have some energy to burn.”
“Thank you. I won’t let you down, sir.” Des saluted and left the commander’s office, heading across the dirt training yard where other guards sparred and drilled. But despite the good news of the long-awaited promotion, there was an underlying sense of foreboding he couldn’t deny.
Was it the promotion itself? Was a part of him afraid of what this meant? To be promoted to lieutenant commander put him in the top 10 percent of the Iron Guard. In that, he could take a great deal of pride, especially considering he was significantly younger than the other lieutenant commanders.