The land south and west of the mountains was flattened from high ridges to rolling meadows and heavily wooded acres. Squatting down to study the narrow mud route, Xeon could hear the rustle of squirrels and rabbits, as well as wild wolves. Precisely the vicious game that would persuade a bunch of thirsty feral werewolves or demons. Too bad there wasn’t an indication of a demon in the air. Not a whiff, not a trace, not even a stray hair.
There was a rustle beside him, and the fragrance of vanilla taunted his senses.
The witch Maribel.
His jaw clenched as his body bitterly acknowledged her nearness.
For Christ's sake, Xeon thought his days of trouble were behind him. He’d murdered his adversaries and receded to the barricaded protection of his mansion ten years ago. His life was deemed t
