Page 20 of The Demon's Delight
Hailon gestured with her hands as she told me about the two men I’d be returning to Olinbourg for once I’d delivered her safely home. “One is short, stout. Dark hair cut short. Dark eyes, mustache. Some kind of councilman.” I ground my teeth together. “The other looked quite a bit like Dr. Lang. I think they might be related, but don’t know for sure. He always spoke quietly but liked holding me still.” Hailon stopped walking and blinked hard. “Do you think they’ll come after me?”
“I don’t know. What was the ranking order of those men? You said the big one was in charge?”
“Yes, Ignus led the group, as far as I could tell, because it was his house, but Dr. Lang and the councilman had the power. They were all careful not to say too much around me most of the time, but occasionally something would slip. Do you think they might see what happened to the others and just… go away? Stay clear of the area so they aren’t connected to that house?” Her tone was hopeful, but I heard the undercurrent of worry.
“Perhaps.” I didn’t have words of comfort to offer. Men, especially the kind that would participate in the trafficking of people and experimentation on live subjects, weren’t exactly the kind I would expect to have high moral standards. But fear was a fantastic motivator. If they thought they might also end up dead, walking away would be an attractive option.
At long last, the little settlement came into view. First came a few outlying farms, though not many fences to separate them. Fields of pale-green grain, very like the roadside grasses, waved in the gentle breeze. The road split off toward them but never widened.
The town was an open one, with a single main street. I scanned the signs hanging over the doors on the buildings gathered around the center of town, finding what I was looking for with measurable relief. I’d hoped for a town large enough to host a clothier so we could find Hailon some things that fit her more appropriately, especially her boots, but we weren’t going to get those things here. However, a hot meal and a real bed would surely lift her spirits after all the walking we’d done.
“There’s an inn after all,” I told her, pointing at the building with a sign depicting a scythe and a barrel. “Come on. Let’s get something to eat and find you a bed to sleep in.”
Chapter 9
Hailon
The clientele inside the little inn stared as we crossed the floor toward the man behind the bar at the rear, but nobody moved to challenge or even paused in their conversations. My skin tingled, unappreciative of all the stares. I was grateful for Seir’s presence and seemingly effortless understanding of how to navigate this situation.
“What can I do for you, traveler?” the grizzled innkeeper asked.
“Any chance you have a room available?” Seir asked, forearm on the bar as he casually surveyed the room.
“Some food and drink aplenty, but no rooms, I’m afraid. We’re full up tonight.” The man drew a tankard of ale from a tap without looking away from Seir’s face and placed it in front of him.
“Are there any other places that rent? We can pay, of course.” Seir raised the brew and drank deep. I wondered if these gestures were some kind of tavern or inn code; some secret language I was not privy to. I also wondered if I should be offended that I was not included despite clearly standing right beside Seir.
The innkeeper shook his head. “No, sorry.”
A man down the bar leaned back, raising his voice to get Seir’s attention. “Ms. Welling runs a house down the street, if you’re looking for a bed.” He smirked, eyes traveling from my face to my chest. “Could probably even make some extra coin lending her out for the evening. Looks like she’s handled a good tumbling in her time. Always nice to have a fresh…facearound here.” He winked at me after waggling his eyebrows in suggestion. My stomach turned.
Seir’s head turned toward the man slowly, his palm digging into the left side of his chest. I could feel the cold shift in his temperament and tensed in response. The last thing we needed was to cause trouble or draw attention to ourselves. “Is he a good customer?” Seir asked the innkeeper, though his attention was fully on the other man.
“Kalob?” The innkeeper snorted and flung a smudged white towel over one shoulder after wiping down the bar in front of himself with it. “Nah. He’s at least two weeks behind in credit and first to provoke a fight.” The innkeeper, it seemed, was participating in lighthearted banter about a loyal customer. Seir, on the other hand, was not.
Faster than my eyes could track, Kalob had been provided a fist to the face and was wearing both his ale and Seir’s, his face dripping and shirt saturated. The tankards were reduced to nothing more than shards of earthenware on the floor courtesy of the man’s face. As casual as could be, Seir used one hand to smash Kalob’s cheek against the wooden bar, then pinned him there, forearm pressing across his neck. Kalob’s hands flailed, only stilling when one of Seir’s daggers pressed into the soft area under his chin. He was bleeding, soaked in ale, and clearly stunned at how he’d ended up in such a state.
“Seir!” I gasped, at the same time the innkeeper shouted, “Hey now!” Several men across the room cheered.
“Is all your clientele so crass?” Seir asked him. “This is a terrible first impression if I’m being honest. No manners at all.”
“He didn’t mean nothing by it,” the innkeeper insisted, hands up as though surrendering.
“Of course he did.” Seir’s eyes finally met mine, and they were brutally red. His smile was sharp, and he didn’t hesitate to show all his teeth. “Apologize to the lady.”
“My mistake,” Kalob gritted, face turning reddish purple. Seir’s blade poked in enough to draw blood.
“It’s fine, let’s just go.” I reached a hand out, placing my palm on his arm. “People are staring.” I could feel it, and it made me itchy. I was flattered—more than, honestly—but this was not how I’d envisioned our evening going at all. I just wanted dinner, maybe a hot bath, and a bed. “We don’t want to draw attention to ourselves, right? We should leave.”
“Not until he apologizes properly.”
“I’m sorry!” he wheezed. Seir leaned in close to his ear, whispering something I couldn’t make out. Kalob nodded, at least as much as he was able to. “I’m very sorry, good lady. I meant no disrespect. I sincerely apologize for insinuating you might be a”—his air choked off even further—“whore.”
The innkeeper’s eyes shifted between us, and we’d drawn the attention of all the nearby tables by this point as well. “He’s done what you said, now let him go, yeah? He didn’t mean no harm. He’s just an idiot who doesn’t know when to mind his mouth.”
Seir released the man, who wasted no time stumbling his way out of the inn, coughing the whole way. Another round of cheering went up, along with loud peals of laughter. It would seem several other patrons had their own issues with dear Kalob.
“Did you?” Seir asked the innkeeper, the point of his blade now aimed his direction. It bobbed as Seir talked, bouncing between the innkeeper’s throat and chest.
