Chapter 12

On their sixth day of traveling together Sam had to admit to himself that Selene was nothing like he had originally expected. Although she was human, she wasn't fragile. He knew their journey's exertions made her weary, but she never complained. She was conscientious with her gear, and prompt if he gave her a morning departure time. Their unexpected moments of close contact when Selene lost her balance or stumbled only fueled his fascination with her. He found himself reaching out to steady her more often than he should.

Each night, he set up the campsite and built a fire while she prepared what came through the switch pouch for serving. It had been easy for them to fall into a routine. So far, everything had gone according to plan. Besides the rainstorm, their trek had been without dangers, until now.

The Padu.

Apprehension slithered down Sam's spine as faint strains of music, and the aroma of smoked meat drifted through the valley. His legs became heavy with dread.

"Is that a carnival or something?" Selene asked, pointing to the cluster of brightly colored tents ahead.

Sam calculated how much time they would lose if they took a different route. They couldn"t go west; a large lake blocked their way. An eastern detour was possible, but it was swampy terrain. He inwardly cursed himself for not checking the Padu schedule when planning their route.

"Sam?"

He glanced down at her questioning face. "It's the Padu."

"Is it a town? Whatever's cooking up there smells amazing."

"It's the Padu traveling market," Sam said tightly. "Changes position every new moon."

"Wow, that sounds fun. What do they sell?"

He shrugged. "Market things."

Selene gave him a puzzled look, but he didn't elaborate. She didn't need to know the full extent of Padu's nature. There were many legitimate merchants at Padu—sellers of beautiful silks, rare jewels, and finely-crafted weaponry. But then there were other traders, ones that took advantage of Padu's transitory state to avoid scrutiny for their dark dealings.

Sam rubbed his thumb against the knives he kept strapped to his belt. He had thought he had only remembered flashes of color and noise from his time in Padu. A purple tent with black stripes. Shouting voices and jangling coins. Dust sticking to his bloodied feet. But the rhythmic drumming and smell of vinegar and garlic brought back many images and sensations he would prefer to forget.

Selene brushed back strands of hair from her face. "I"d kill for a hair tie. Or even a ribbon. Do you think we could pick up something like that there?"

Although Sam liked seeing the wind play with her loose hair, he knew she craved a way to restrain it. A few days ago, she had tried to twist the tawny-colored mass into a bun secured by a twig, but pieces kept sliding out.

"You can buy anything in Padu, but we"re not stopping there," he said.

"Why not?"

"I don"t want to."

"But… isn't it on our way?"

"We're taking a different route now. See that fork in the road ahead? We'll go east instead."

She seemed to consider this as they walked. After a moment, she asked, "Couldn"t we just stop for a moment? Ten minutes tops."

Sam waited until a furry old Lycah pushing a jangling cart of pots passed them on the road before replying, "No. Put your Nereid cream on. We don't need everyone here knowing you're human."

She pulled out the jar from her pack and began to apply the fish scale cream to her face.

Their path had become more heavily trafficked as they approached the split in the road. As usual, Sam's size and appearance attracted many curious stares. Children stopped playing to watch him with wide eyes, while the adults either drew back in fear or tried to avoid eye contact.

The drumming grew louder and was now accompanied by off-key singing as they continued down the road. A Nereid male balancing a tray of seashells on his head splashed his face with a bottle of water as their paths crossed. When he noticed Selene's attention on him, he bowed. The tray didn't even jostle while drips of water streamed from his chin. Plucking a tiny cockleshell from his collection of goods, he presented it to Selene.

Sam shook his head. "No. We're not buying today."

The Nereid's silvery eyes twinkled. "A gift. No charge."

Selene accepted the shell, then gave a delighted smile to the Nereid. Sam felt a simmer of envy. Witless fish creature. He wanted to be the one causing that reaction.

After tucking the shell into her pocket, Selene said, "I've never seen anything like this."

Sam was about to repeat how they were not stopping, but her expression made him pause. The yearning she had to explore the market was clear, and yet she did not voice it again. Something about that bothered him. He felt a pull—deep and instinctual. A sudden overwhelming need to indulge her. To please and satisfy. To be the male, the only male, that could give her what she desired. It was disturbing… but undeniable.

"Would Kevin P. Norton take you if he were here?" he asked.

"Kevin? Not a chance," she said with a laugh. "He'd say we don't need to buy any more junk, or he'd spend the whole time worrying he'd get his wallet stolen."

"Demons don't abide theft," Sam replied. "Fine. Let's go to Padu then. But we can't stay long."

"Yay!" she cried. Sam ducked his head to hide how his lips quirked at the joy he felt in seeing her excitement. Delighting her could prove addictive.

As the Padu came into focus, Sam tried to put aside his memories to see the market through Selene's eyes. It was vibrant, the air heated with life. Aurelians of all races were laughing, arguing, haggling, or shouting across the stalls. The aroma of sugar and butter eclipsed the smoked meat smell as they passed a cake stand. Jugglers walked up and down the aisles while artists offered to capture each passerby"s likeness on canvas. Sam worried some of the older merchants might recognize him, but they only viewed him as a potential buyer.

"Lady! Come touch! My silks are the best in Aurelia! Come see!" a Drago with heavily scaled eyelids called to Selene from her wooden cart.

Selene shook her head, but Sam led her over to the assortment of silk scarves. "You can look," he said.

He watched Selene run swathes of fabric between her fingers. The Drago leaned over to drape several scarves across Selene's shoulders, praising her fairness. She laughed off the compliment, and Sam wondered with a flash of anger who had taught her to deny her beauty.

On impulse, he decided he would buy her a gift. Anything she wanted. Perhaps she would look at him the way she did when that Nereid gave her a shell. It was a foolish notion, but he didn't care. Those in the market probably assumed he and Selene were mates, traveling together as they were. There was nothing unusual about a mate buying his treasured one something she desired.

The sky blue silk seemed to be the one she liked best, but when Sam offered to buy it, Selene refused, indicating she was ready to move on.

Next, they came upon a flower cart, bursting with fragrant blooms. He watched Selene linger over each blossom and briefly considered buying her a floral crown or garland. Yet he held back. He wanted his gift to be something more substantial.

He thought he had found such a gift when they approached a group of jewelers. It was crowded with Aurelians of wealth, judging by their clothes and grooming. Sam watched Selene's face while she looked over the bracelets, earrings, and rings. When she touched a pearled necklace, Sam asked, a little too eagerly, "Do you like that? Why don't you try it on?"

"Nah, it's a bit too elegant for me. I'd probably lose it or break it," Selene said.

Sam was about to protest that she deserved only the most elegant of adornments when something to their left caught her attention. "Oooo—soap!" she cried.

He followed Selene away from the jewelry toward a cart full of scented soaps. She held each bar to her nose.

"Mmm, this is nice—smells like leather and rose. What's this one?" She read the label on each basket. "This one smells like… coffee and old books. How do you bottle that?"

"My own recipe," the Malkina female behind the table murmured.

"They're beautiful. Oh, this one is like fresh pumpkin. And this one smells like tea with milk!" Selene closed her eyes to inhale. When she opened them to find Sam watching her, she asked, "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"I've never seen anyone so excited about soap." He took a step closer. "Tell me which ones you want. I'll buy them."

"No, I already have a big bar Hollen packed for me."

"I want to," Sam said in a voice that came out more husky than he intended. He held her gaze before she looked away.

"All right," she said. "Thank you."

"Pick out a bar for me too. I'm running low."

She continued to sniff bars, until Sam had to turn his head away to hide his amusement. Most females covet jewels, but mine yearns for soap. His smile quickly fell. Stop this. She is not yours.

"Okay," Selene tested each scent, until finally, she said, "Here. This one smells like you."

He took the green bar she offered and held it his nose. The pine scent was easily detected, but he also caught woodsmoke, along with a hint of elder bark and black ironwood. It was a very agreeable scent, but with a pleasing breath of darkness lurking below. The idea that he would be immersing himself in a scent that she preferred, one that she had chosen just for him, was intoxicating. Provocative.

"I'll take all of them," Sam said, gesturing to the nearly ten bars in the basket Selene had pulled from. "And as many as the lady would like too."

"Whoa, I don't need that many!" Selene protested. "I can't even decide which one is my favorite."

He was about to tell her to get one of each, then he paused. He became beset with the desire to choose for her. To know that she would be bathed in a scent that he preferred—one that would touch every inch of her skin. Perhaps it would make her think of him when she smelled it.

He held each bar to his nose. They all seemed cloyingly floral, until he sniffed a creamy dark pink one. It was a blend of vanilla, citrus and a berry scent that reminded him of her alluring pomegranate scent.

"This one," he said.

The soap maker only had three bars in stock, so he bought all of them too.

"Thank you, Sam," Selene said. The usual warmth that came from hearing his name on her lips spread throughout his body. His anxiety about being back at Padu became overshadowed by an enormous sense of satisfaction.

They walked up and down more stalls, stopping at the food row to buy a few things to complement their meals. When they stepped away from a tea vendor, Sam saw a stall selling elaborate hats, hair pieces, and combs.

"Look! Hair devices," he said to Selene.

Selene described what she was looking for to the merchant. As they talked, Sam noticed a young Lycah hovering by a nearby baker's stand. He was shabbily dressed with dark hollows under his eyes. His lupine face was pockmarked, and his shoes were too big for his feet. The boy looked around but did not notice Sam watching him. He approached a small table of bread loaves and quickly grabbed one to stuff under his ragged tunic.

Sam's entire body rippled as his instincts for vengeance roared to life.

Stealing!

Sam glanced at the baker to see if she had noticed the theft. Was she about to respond accordingly? If she did, his urges would cool, knowing that vengeance had been served. Yet her attention was turned toward the ovens.

Punish him, a voice whispered in his head. He's getting away.

No, Sam thought, he doesn't deserve it. He's only a sick boy.

Grab him, take all that he has.

Sam's breaths came quickly. His eyes bored into the back of the young man's head.

Chase him, catch him. Make him feel the betrayal and loss born of theft.

Another part of his mind pleaded, no, not in front of Selene. Sam wiped his sweaty palms against his tunic. The smell of fresh bread faded as he remembered the vinegary meat they were fed when the blood wagons stopped at Padu. The music and laughter of children running past turned into screams and pleas for mercy. His body became overwhelmed with the need to punish, even though his mind knew it was unwarranted.

Crush his bones, rip his skin, the voice said.

Breathe, focus, control,he chanted to himself, desperate for a reprieve. But his demonic instincts were too strong. He was sick with dread at the violence he knew was about to unfold.

All other thoughts fell, and he became consumed with need. With clenched fists, he closed his eyes, gathered his strength for attack. His powerful body tensed like the predator he was, and when he opened his eyes, his vision clouded with crimson. Heat flooded his body, readying him for combat. He focused in on the boy darting among the hundreds of Aurelians in the crowd.

Nothing else mattered at that moment. He had forgotten where he was or how he had gotten there. Time was irrelevant, and the atmosphere had become a void. All that existed was a demon and his prey.

Make him pay.