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23. Demon-Made

  The air cooled as they made either way to the unknown location. The wet hem of Corabelle’s dress sent chills up her spine every time it brushed her calves.

  Perhaps she should have thought to put her boots back on before they began the journey, but the dirt road beneath her feet was preferable to the blisters her still-wet shoes would certainly re-aggravate.

  Despite her first impression of this group, the only one who actually seemed to harbour animosity toward her was the girl from the school. The others were far kinder than they had any reason to be toward her.

  The slim man held her arm lightly through the walk, softly calling out obstacles and slowing down so she had time to accommodate them. The larger man could hear walking a good ways ahead of them, keeping the girl in check.

  She almost wished she knew their names, but it was smart they hadn’t shared them.

  The trip to their destination was long, probably longer than it should have been with the steady pace they kept. Though, Corabelle didn’t dare to let herself estimate how long.

  After what was sure a few hours, the man tightened his grip on her arm to slow her, “We’re here,” His voice was low, but there was an edge of nerves. “I’m going to be honest with you, since they don’t know you’re with us, I'm not sure what their reaction will be. You and I are going to stay out here while the others let them know of our arrival. If this goes poorly, I’m begging you not to hurt them.”

  His voice was so sincere, it stung. They didn’t trust her, not really. But why would they? As much as they pretended they wanted to trust her, she was still a monster and they both knew it.

  “Of course, I won’t…” She hesitated. “Did Martin tell you why I am the way that I am?”

  “No,” His reply was short, rough, as though he didn’t particularly care so long as the outcome was the same.

  Regardless, Coraballe continued, “I wasn’t made by the Fae. I was made by a Demon.”

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  His grip tightened around her arm, “You’re trying to tell me that they’re trying to have Demons make more Demons.” The urgency in his voice sent a wave of cold dread through her.

  She shook her head, “Not trying, they do.” Her own voice shuttered as she spoke.

  Gods, these people don’t know?

  “The Fae control smaller batches of Demons who control the armies.”

  “That’s how their numbers grew so quickly,” His voice was low and dry as his grip tightened further. “But these Demons aren’t like the originals? They’re like you?”

  Corabelle released a slow breath as a lump formed in her throat, “No. The Faedemon who made me, he did so to save my life. I was killed by another Faedemon and he brought me back, but he left my memories intact. That’s why I am this way. I remember my life before.”

  The questions spilled forth so quickly she hardly understood them, "Why did he do that? How did he do that? The Fae let this happen?”

  “He did it because--- because he cared for me,” she forced out. “And he could do it because I was the first…. The first Demon-made. He discovered how he was made and then the Fae discovered they could control me through him.”

  If he wanted to interrogate her more, he couldn’t as the sound of a near dozen heavy footsteps came toward them at an alarming pace.

  Though as the footsteps stopped, the area surrounding them was all the more alarmingly silent.

  Finally softer footsteps approached, and a woman spoke, her voice colder than ice, “I had half thought someone was playing a joke on me, by telling me you all brought a Faedemon to our doorstep,” there was no humor to her voice as she continued. “But it seems there are only four liars among us.”

  “Ma’am, she administered the Dewsilver to herself as planned,” The man next to Corabelle spoke with surprising resolve. “She came willingly, she caused us no harm, and she’s already given me invaluable information.”

  Though she could not see the two, she could feel the tension in the air was as thick as honey.

  “Does she know where we are?” Her words severed the quiet like an arrow through flesh.

  “No, ma’am, her eyes have been covered and we did not take a direct route.”

  “Do you have time to take her back before they know where we are?”

  “No,” This time it was the Aldrian woman’s voice. “The Dewsilver will be wearing off in a few hours.”

  There was another unbearable stretch of silence before the cold woman finally spoke, “Bring her inside. We can figure out what will be done once we’re all hidden.”

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