Did I want him to?
“It left for now,” Rowan said before lifting off me. The shadows retreated, seeping back into the leaf littered forest floor.
“What was that thing?” I sat up, confused by the whirlwind of thoughts racing in my head. I missed the feel of his body on mine and tried to convince myself it was only because I was cold.
“A corvus daimon,” he said, resting a hand on his sheathed dagger as he surveyed the forest. “Or, a crow demon. Wicked bastards, they are. It alerted the others, so we should get moving.”
“Don’t gotta tell me twice.” I pushed to my feet and hugged the cloak closer to my body. Catching a scent, I pressed my nose to the material on instinct.
It smelled like him; sweet, yet smoky, with a hint of pepper. Like black cardamom. Which only strengthened my suspicion that Rowan was one of the men Lupin had told me about. Love interest number four. The tingling warmth in my chest when our eyes met, my body’s response when we touched, and how I’d picked up on a scent that was uniquely his—it all added up.
Or maybe I was reading too much into it. Also possible.
Rowan led me from the area, but I wasn’t sure if we were going deeper into the forest or heading back the way we’d come. It was easy to get turned around and lose my sense of direction. An already established quality of mine: getting lost in the woods.
“Hey, Rowan?”
He walked a pace ahead of me and glanced back. “Yeah? What is it?”
“Thanks. For saving me.” I burrowed more into the cloak. My insides were fluttering like crazy. “See… your magiccanbe used for good. Without it, I would’ve been bird food.”
Surprised flickered across his face before he turned away. “Yeah, well, it would’ve been annoying if you’d gotten eaten. You’ve been enough of a headache for me already.” With his hair pulled to the side and held in place with the gold cuff, one ear was exposed. The tip was red, the flush noticeable even with his darker complexion.
I smiled.
And then I stumbled.
“By the gods,” he muttered as he stopped to look back at me. I’d fallen to my knees. “Do youwantmore demons to attack us? Keep making so much noise, and they will.”
“Sorry.” I stood and winced at the sting in my left kneecap. A sharp rock had cut through my pants and nicked the skin. “I didn’t mean to.”
That softened him, if only a little. He expelled a breath and advanced closer. “You’re a mess. Here. Let me see.” He knelt to examine my knee. “Just a scratch. You’ll live.” He rose up and shook his head. “How have you survived this long?”
“Luck, mostly, with a generous dose of coffee.”
“And muffins? I recall you rambling about them too.”
My stomach grumbled at the mention of muffins. Since breakfast yesterday morning, I’d only eaten the pecans Kuya and I’d bought from the market and the two demonic apples. I was starving and grossly undercaffeinated.
But being hungry was the least of my worries.
A familiar caw pierced the air, so loud it made me flinch. Rowan flew backward and slammed against the closest tree trunk.
“Rowan!” I called out to him. He’d hit the tree hard. “Are you okay? Please don’t be dead.”
He groaned and sluggishly stood, using the trunk for support. “Save your tears. It’ll take more than that to kill me.” He regarded his satchel. “I think your necklace helped.”
“Good,” I said, relieved. “What happened? Why did you—”
My relief at him being alive was short-lived. Because I might not be soon. There was a heavy flapping of wings before the back of my hair ruffled. And with it, the hot tickle of someone—or something—breathing.
Chapter Eighteen
The Great Escape
What was more horrifying than being attacked by a demonic crow? Having him return with a flock of his equally horrifying buddies.
And god were they hideous; red eyes, massive feathered bodies that towered over me, and pointed beaks, some misshapen and cracked with what looked like blood dripping from the tips. They put Herbert the Terror to shame. I would’ve preferred that little, muffin crumb loving insect over these grotesque fuckers any day.
