If I were human, what I was doing would’ve terrified me. Alone, I followed Richter and his group of potentially-murderous acquaintances to the edge of Gedon. Here, small farms began to break up the sprawl, resulting in clusters of old, squat buildings. Many of them were stone and some of them probably predated Ordian rule.

As the city crumbled into countryside, I took a last, longing look at the star-studded horizon over fallow fields, and followed the group down into a basement. Instead of damp earth, the smell of soot and sweat hung in the air. I had to walk hunched over. Had I not been in my human form, my horns would’ve dug tracks into the earth and stone above.

This was no complex tunnel network like back in Lockmoth. Though situated mostly on a mild rise, Gedon sat on a floodplain, and any sewers it did have surely didn’t extend out this way. The short passage and room at the end were freshly dug and, I suspected, a recent development.

“Why the secrecy?” I asked as I inched forward, pulling my shoulders away from the dirt walls in a vain attempt to keep my blouse clean.

“Why d’ya think? You aren’t that dull, yeah?”

“I take it the guard won’t help then,” I said dryly. Truthfully, I was disappointed the city guard wasn’t doing more, but Officer Lorton back in Lockmoth was a rare sort of man, and at least the whole organization wasn’t corrupt here in Gedon.

Or as corrupt at any rate. I didn’t see the guard as villains, but I definitely would need to paint them in the worst light to get on the good side of this group. Unfortunately, I was also realizing that, depending on what I saw, I may have to take some decidedly unpleasant action. I really wish I could have let someone know I was here.

“Got some new blood!” Richter announced as we entered the room at the end of the hallway.

The space was small, with a ceiling still too low for me to stand. Two candles dimly lit the space, casting the man at the far end of a rickety old table in shadows. The effect would have been ominous if I couldn’t see his face with near-perfect clarity. He was human: Edathan-looking with dark hair and relatively pale skin. Hard blue eyes stared at me, judging.

I stared back at him, surprising myself with just how unafraid I was. Always walking on eggshells, I’d become so used to making a good impression and showing everyone how kind I could be, that it felt nice to just let that go—even if only for a short while. I wasn’t afraid of this man. I wasn’t afraid of the people he had with him. Despite not feeling anywhere near drunk, it was sobering to realize I could probably kill everyone here before they got a chance to do anything.

Evidently, the outward display of my inner monologue combined with my naturally cold blue eyes won their leader over.

He shook his head, saying “Damn Richter. Where’d you find this one.”

“At Lefty’s. She suckered punched Byron and dropped him for hitting on her.”

“Crazy bastard,” the boss mumbled. “And why do you think she’s got a stake in this? She doesn’t look old enough to’ve fought.”

“Never said I fought,” I growled.

“Is she even human?” someone else piped up.

From the glare the unexpected speaker received, I had to guess no one else was supposed to speak. Still, the boss looked at me and raised an eyebrow.

“Ogre blood,” I responded with a shrug that knocked pieces of dirt down onto the floor.

“I don’t give a shit about that. Why do you care if you didn’t fight?” He pounded his fist against the table, shaking it wildly.

This time, my words got caught in my throat. I couldn’t answer that—there was no way I could lie convincingly. I was nervous, yeah, but the fury I’d had against that asshole in the tavern had faded.

Wait? Wrath? That’s easy.

I willed my mana into myself, steaming just a little as I felt my controlled, but tense fury rise to the fore. Just as I was about to try to think of something to say, the boss nodded.

“Good enough. I take it you’re not the talking type. Makes sense someone your size isn’t the best with words. But we don’t need words—just send that anger at those Ordian bastards and not us and you’ll fit in just fine.” He smiled darkly and turned to my guide. “Richter?”

“Yeah?”

“Keep her on a leash. The guard’s stupid, but they’re not blind.”

“Understood.”

“Good. Let’s get started already.” He pointed to me. “And you can take a seat on the floor.”

I did as I was told and sat cross-legged to one side of the closed door as the meeting commenced. Very quickly, I realized my fears were right. This group of people hadn’t let go of the war. To them, Ordians were the enemy. This was despite still technically being Ordians themselves—if I understood the current political state of the Kingdom of Edath correctly.

And, as the enemy, they aimed to kill Ordian veterans of the war still living in Edath. They didn’t target the injured or those who hadn’t fought like that was some kind of badge of honor. Specific murder. With criteria. Yeah, that’s not the ‘honorable’ thing you think it is.

On the docket tonight were two things: one was to investigate their cut-off contact to the south, and the other was a plan to go murder some people. The blame for the cut contact was quickly given to “the Ordians,” and I had to wonder if there wasn’t another group in another basement somewhere in this very city plotting against “the Edathans.”

Needless to say, I didn’t approve of plotting murder, and started to formulate how I could incapacitate them and turn them in to the guard. Unfortunately, I couldn’t find a way to do that that seemed realistic. The more I thought, the more disappointed I felt with the idea in the first place and I tried to put a claw on why that might be.

As I sat and pondered, I heard them take responsibility for at least one murder and make plans to retaliate for another of their own who was murdered. Or, so they claimed. Still, based on what I was hearing, I had more than enough information to try to bring them to the guard.

Or I could just solve the problem and kill them.

Self-defense or the heat of a battle would be one thing. But here and now, I had to weigh carefully what I would do. Moreover, I had to do it quickly while they were all still down here. A check with aura sight during a rare moment when no one was looking at me confirmed there was little to no magic among the assembled. I doubted they could hide any magic, either.

Still, despite all my progress in decisiveness, I stalled. I realized I didn’t want to take them in. Yevon’s words stayed stuck in my mind: “What will their punishment be then, Zarenna?”

Death, probably. And a public one that would strain the guard’s already thin relation with this part of Gedon. The people here were all openly guilty, and they intended to get me involved tonight. They want me to murder someone tonight. How has the city guard not caught these people yet?

I’m still stalling.

A commotion out in the hall acted before I did. In a way, it was almost a relief to hear shouts and the soft twang of a crossbow firing off. Someone might be coming to solve my problem—but I didn’t know anyone with a crossbow.

Despite my status as a “new recruit,” I was shoved out first with Richter to meet whoever was barging their way in. Whoever it was, we were probably on the same side. With how I looked right now, however, I braced for a misunderstanding and fervently hoped they didn’t have magic and they didn’t hate demons.

***

Vivian the mercenary was furious, more so than usual. She was already ticked off that the guard wouldn’t give her the resources she needed to take down whatever demon was killing war veterans, and now someone had put a twist on tonight’s plans. The plan had been simple, too: find a group of thugs posing as soldiers from a war that was done and dusted, wring some information out of them, and then dispose of them.

Then they’d left the dive they were drinking at with one person extra: the giant of a woman Vivian had run into outside the guard captain’s office not half a week earlier. Truth was she hadn’t expected that damn woman to be getting into bed with those murderers. Did that mean that bitch of a guard captain was part of this stupid “war,” too?

Tonight had just gotten a lot more complicated—and this wasn’t even her final stop of the night. Whoever—or whatever—this woman was, she hadn’t flinched when Vivian had run into her the other day.

The unusually tall woman’s lack of a reaction was a small sign, but small signs were worth paying attention to when one was hunting a demon. The bastard Inquisition had been even more absent of late, and Vivian could unfortunately say the extra work wasn’t welcome. If this woman was in league with the demon—granted power perhaps—then Vivian needed to track this new lead down immediately.

Immediately had meant going in swinging. Good thing Vivian was always prepared.

The door guards hadn’t seen her coming and had gone down silently. Unfortunately, the one person on watch in the basement hadn’t been a clean kill and his shouting alerted the rest of them.

Quickly, Vivian moved to the wall by the shoddily-dug tunnel, uncaring of the grime staining her leathers. She expertly loaded another enchanted bolt into her crossbow and aimed down the basement hall at the ramshackle door at the end. There’d be more thugs inside, and she only needed one to talk—preferably whoever was in charge. If the thugs had a rear exit, she hadn’t seen it when she cased the place, and they certainly seemed stupid enough to trap themselves in a hole in the ground.

A surprised looking man ran out of the door first, an old sword still halfway out of its scabbard when Vivian’s bolt sunk between his eyes. He dropped just as the giant woman was shoved out after him. Vivian cursed and reloaded quickly, thankful that the woman had stumbled over the still-twitching body. She was so tall that she had to duck to fit in the small, cramped tunnel.

Vivian held her finger on the trigger and aimed in.

The woman, surprisingly, raised her hands in surrender and started talking quickly. “Hi. So, uh, I’m not with these guys. Just trying to investigate them.”

“And?” Vivian asked, expression stony. This woman isn’t afraid, she thought. Her posture was tense, but her gaze was calm and level. Could she just be investigating? The chances weren’t bad that was the case, Vivian thought, and I need information from her anyway.

The woman kept talking as if that might make the situation better. “And I’d like it if you leave at least one alive. They might have information we could both use.” She frowned when Vivian didn’t react.

“Move,” the mercenary said, giving her only warning.

The woman moved—quickly for her size—pressing up to the side of the wall and shuffling down and out, past Vivian who tracked her the whole way, the enchanted bolt loaded in her crossbow glowing with holy light.

The woman looked like she wanted to say something, but Vivian moved past her swiftly, into the tunnel. Now wasn’t the time for words. The mercenary would have cover if she was attacked from behind by the clearly-unarmed woman, and she had enough firepower to take out most demons, let alone whatever that woman was.

Once she got inside the back room, the fight was swift and brutal. While the group may have been seasoned fighters, this was an ambush in tight quarters. Moreover, Vivian was armed to the teeth and used to fighting far scarier opponents.

The tall woman was still in the basement when Vivian left; unwilling or unable to watch the proceedings, but too curious to leave. Unfortunately, the thugs’ leader didn’t have any good information beyond details of their cut communications, and that lead could be for any number of reasons. Given the strange woman’s involvement, however, Vivian decided to give the potential lead more consideration than it was probably due.

The mercenary kept her crossbow drawn as she approached the large woman who’d sat down against the wall, facing away from the tunnel.

“Learn anything?” the large and annoying woman asked Vivian in a tone that was far too conversational. She didn’t seem to mind the enchanted crossbow pointed at her face.

Vivian’s eye twitched.

“I’m Zarenna by the way.” Zarenna stuck out a hand.

Vivian stared at it.

“Not enough hands then, I guess,” Zarenna chuckled. “I’m with the Gelles Company.”

That got Vivian’s attention. The company wasn’t elite per se, but they had standards and were very influential. “Prove it.”

The woman produced a slip of cloth with the company insignia on it. It certainly looked legitimate. All the more reason to doubt her. Vivian turned to leave the basement, still training the crossbow on Zarenna.

“You’re just going to leave?” Zarenna asked, standing up and dusting off her backside. Even in the basement proper, her head almost touched the ceiling.

This woman can’t be fully human, Vivian thought. Perhaps it’s better to keep her close.

“I’ve a lead to chase,” Vivian answered simply, her curiosity getting the better of her common sense as she fished for information.

“Do you still think it’s a demon?” Zarenna asked.

Vivian narrowed her eyes.

Zarenna continued, “Well, I couldn’t not hear that conversation the other day. Personally, I also think there’s a demon tied up in this. I don’t know if they’re playing both sides, killing indiscriminately, or somewhere in between, though.”

“I… see.” Vivian kept her lips tight and her response minimal.

Zarenna frowned. “Right, yeah? Me too. Eyes and all that.”

Vivian didn’t let her emotions show, her training keeping them tightly controlled, just in case. “Do not mock me.”

“How about a little courtesy then?”

“Do you not see the bodies?” Vivian hissed, not even bothering to gesture to the cooling body in the same room as them. “What makes you think I won’t add one more?”

“What makes you think you could?” Zarenna growled suddenly.

Vivian steeled herself. Something in Zarenna’s tone did something vanishingly rare—it unnerved her. “Have you ever killed a demon, Zarenna?”

Zarenna took a moment to respond, then held up a few fingers. “Three.”

Vivian had the distinct, unfortunate impression the unusual woman wasn’t lying. “Three minor demons is no real feat.”

“Greater demons, all of them. One reaver.” Zarenna’s smile looked a little… sharp.

A very, very uncomfortable feeling started to bubble up through Vivian’s thoughts. “How?”

Zarenna’s smile stayed fixed in place. “First things first, I think we should work together, mystery woman.”

“Vivian,” Vivian answered simply. It wasn’t her real name, anyway.

“Vivian. I think we should work together. If this is a demon, particularly if they’re a wrath demon like I think we both think they might be, then this is my business. My responsibility.”

Vivian’s aim had slipped. Now, she raised the crossbow again. Something was very wrong. “Not one step closer.”

“I’m still against the back wall. Door’s right behind you,” Zarenna said deferentially.

Vivian tightened her finger on the trigger—the mechanism a hairsbreadth away from firing. “What will you do if I say no?”

Zarenna shrugged, the casual expression at odds with her cold glare and the large crossbow aimed directly at her. “Follow you anyway—but probably in the morning. I’m fresh out of patience and, quite frankly, if subtlety gets people killed then I don’t care to be subtle anymore.”

“How?” Vivian asked again, taking a single step back toward the stairs out of the basement. Her shoulder bumped the door. The hinge was well-oiled and would open smoothly. In a pinch, she could shoulder her way out of here backwards.

“How what?” Zarenna cocked her head to one side, disturbingly unconcerned.

“How did you kill those demons?” Vivian asked, half in a whisper.

“With my bare claws,” Zarenna responded easily.

And then she transformed, skin flushing crimson. Large horns curled upward from her head, two arms became four, and a massive tail snaked out from behind her.

Expecting as much, Vivian’s finger twitched, sending an enchanted bolt straight for the demon Zarenna’s heart. The mercenary jumped backwards through the basement doors after firing, her movements a fluid single motion. She’d hardly hit the dirt on the other side when an impossibly strong hand gripped her shoulder. Shit. Vivian looked up to see the demon Zarenna pull the crossbow bolt out of her breast and wince.

“Enchanted,” she said simply. “Ouch. If I’d been slower, you probably would have gotten me.”

Something glowed above the demon’s breasts, visible due to the low cut of her now-ruined shirt.  Vivian had seen that vortex-like symbol with the six-pointed starburst before. She hadn’t, however, seen one with a gem in the center. Two more hands pinned her arms, a thick tail bound her legs, and Vivian realized she’d lost. Her last chance had been to use her magic to break free, and that had passed while she was staring at a stupid symbol.

Even if she used her limited magic, she’d not be fast enough now. Her only chance was to create distance, something that seemed highly unlikely.

Vivian hated to admit it, but she knew this would happen eventually. Hunting demons was a precarious, fickle profession. One that required preparedness and caution. Vivian had slipped up tonight and she’d soon pay the price.

Still, she had to wonder: What the hell kind of demon is Zarenna? Vivian would have seen through a mere glamour, and a transformation like this didn’t match with Zarenna’s form. She could possibly be a demon of lust, but not like any Vivian had ever read about. And Vivian had done plenty of reading.

“What are you?” Vivian spat.

“Have you heard of the demonic Sovereigns?”

Vivian took another long look at the glowing gem embedded in the demon’s sternum. Memories of dusty tomes and a strict ex-inquisitor instructor made clear the meaning of Zarenna’s words.

Oh fuck. Oh unholy fuck.