Page 17 of To Hunt a Demon King

“Are you really telling me you’re a witch who doesn’t know how to cast a blood bargain?” Hunt asked, showing me his own wrist, which had a matching red line across it.

“Blood magic is demon magic,” I said angrily. “Witch magic relies on the elements. And how exactly does a mortal man know blood magic anyway?”

Hunt shrugged, looking at me with interest. “You pick things up when you live out here,” he replied. “And that will ensure you don’t trick me out of my payment,” he added, nodding to the wrist, which I was now holding to my chest.

I scowled, but I wasn’t sure he could see it in the dying light. “You should have asked me first,” I said angrily. Akela seemed to growl on my behalf, and I faintly saw Hunt roll his eyes.

“She’s fine,” he said to the wolf. “And you would have said no,” he added, stretching as he began to close the distance between us.

“What do you think you’re doing now?” I asked, pressing myself closer to the tree. He paused his prowling, crouched on the ground in front of me with his hood still obscuring his face.

“It’s about to get freezing out here,” he said, tilting his head to the side. “I don’t know about you, Red, but I’d rather not freeze to death in the night, and you’ve taken my wolf.”

“So?” I asked, patting Akela’s head. The wolf snuffed and gave a little whine, looking at me as if begging leniency for his master.

“So,” Hunt continued, resuming his prowl until he was settled next to me by the tree. “Unless you can magic our cloaks to be warmer, you can either give him back, or we can share.”

I stiffened as the huge wolf stood and turned in a circle, settling himself between my hip and Hunt’s. Magic didn’t work the way Hunt suggested, and I felt certain he knew that.

“Here,” Hunt grunted, holding the edge of his cloak out expectantly.

“What?” I asked, looking at him skeptically.

“Gods, woman, you are impossible,” he growled. “Get under the cloak. You look half dead, and I can see you shivering.”

“I…” I hesitated. As much as I felt certain it was a bad idea to trust a stranger, I did have my magic, and I trusted Akela. I supposed if Hunt tried anything, I could call on the death magic and hope for the best.

“Thank you,” I said, leaning forward so he could put his cloak around me. It smelled like evergreen trees and spices, and I wondered how he could pick up such a scent from these twisted, dark woods.

The wolf between us was a warm, comforting barrier, and Hunt crossed his arms beneath the rest of his cloak, leaning back on the trunk. I tried to emulate his position, pulling my own cloak and the edge of his tighter around me. It wouldn’t be a comfortable way to sleep, but I was so exhausted it might not actually matter.

A loud screech made me start, and Akela snuffed irritably. Hunt let out a low chuckle.

“It’s just Artemis,” he said, resting his head back on the trunk of the gnarled tree. “Go to sleep, Red.”

“How can I sleep when anything could come eat us?” I asked irritably, trying to shift against the tree trunk to get more comfortable.

“Nothing will eat us with Akela here,” Hunt said, sounding utterly unconcerned. “But you’re a witch. Cast a protection spell or something if you’re so worried.”

“Witch magic doesn’t work like that,” I grumbled. “I need materials for a protection spell. Only demon magic can be cast on a whim.”

“Then I suppose you’ll have to rely on Akela and me to keep you safe,” Hunt replied, resting his head against the tree trunk with his eyes closed as if determined to find sleep before me.

I felt certain I would not be able to go to sleep. I thought over the details of the day as I fiddled with the shadow stone necklace absently. Was Mama still safe, or was she also running from my grandmother? Would my grandmother come after me in the Bloodwood? Would she really kill me if she found me? I wanted to believe she wouldn’t, but the sound of the murdered witch hitting the dais told me that she might.

“How did your mother come by that stone?” Hunt asked. I glanced up, surprised to see him watching me out of one eye.

“It was a gift from my father,” I said, releasing the stone so it was once again hidden under my blouse.

“Really?” Hunt asked, opening his other eye and looking at me with disbelief.

“Why is that so hard to believe?” I asked snappishly. Hunt narrowed his eyes for a moment, as if trying to decide if I was lying.

“No reason,” he said, closing his eyes again. “But it’s interesting.”

“Goddess above,” I mumbled, praying for patience. “No one has ever found me as interesting as you seem to.”

“Clearly, no one has been paying enough attention,” Hunt replied in a husky voice, making my stomach give a funny little lurch. The way he spoke about me was somehow both infuriating and sensual. It bothered me.

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