She looked up at him, at his battle-worn armor and streaks of dirt and blood littering his scaly skin. The idea struck like lightning—preposterous and obscene, but… if there was one thing a prince of demons wouldn’t think to ask for…

“I’ll take care of you,” she whispered.

“Excuse me?”

“I’ll take care of you,” she repeated, more conviction in her voice now that he hadn’t immediately dismissed it. “You’ve fought. You’re injured. Tired. When we return to your home, I’ll take care of you. I’ll bathe you, dress your wounds if they need it… Help you relax. And if you need to consume more energy, well…”

The prince stared silently at her, his expression unreadable, and her gut tightened with panic, certain he’d deny her request.

“If you make me leave her alone and defenseless, I’ll never forgive you.”

She wasn’t sure what part of her had the audacity to snarl a toothless threat at the monster—possibly wherever blind desperation was stored—but it made Kesh arch an eye-ridge.

“You’ll never forgive me?” he repeated slowly, as if he couldn’t quite comprehend the ridiculousness of her threat.

Despair wormed its way through Georgia’s desperate fury at his disregard for a child’s life, but pleading had gotten her nowhere. She clung to her anger, jaw set tightly as she glared back at him. “Never,” she echoed.

Kesh held her gaze for another uneasy heartbeat. Then he huffed what could have been a laugh but entirely lacked the mirth and jumped back out of the helicopter. “Fine. Get the girl. But, little Breeder, once she’s been deposited with her own kind, I’m gonna collect on your bargain. And I don’t think you’ll enjoy it.”

19

Kesh

Forgiveness.

He'd made a lot of bargains with humans over the years. Not one had ever had the audacity to try to trade him their forgiveness, as if a demon would have even the slightest interest in such a ridiculous concept.

And yet…

He glared at the Breeder out of the corner of his eye as she walked by his side, the little spawnling on her hip. The creature was too heavy for Georgia to carry comfortably, but she refused to let it walk across the crumbling sidewalks on its own perfectly functioning legs.

He didn't care about her forgiveness. She wasn't his and would be out of his hair soon enough, off to breed some other unlucky bastard sons. He had no need to make her sweet on him.

But…

An image of Georgia flooded his mind. One of her clutching the child protectively, in defiance of his demand to abandon her. He clenched his hand to tamp down the roil of emotion attempting to force its way up his esophagus.

She will be a ferocious mother.

She was going to be the kind of mother who’d move heaven and earth for her children. And as much as it infuriated him that she kept fucking sacrificing herself for anyone and anything that crossed her path, in that one moment, when she'd looked up at him with fearful defiance, she reminded him of what he’d never had.

He forced down the ache of unwanted memories. Georgia was a Breeder, like his mother had been, but if he started confabulating the two, this wouldn't end well. Not for him, not for her, and certainly not for the kingdom his brother needed him to focus on defending.

“How much farther?” he growled. Not that Georgia could answer—she had as little knowledge of the location of the child’s home as he did, but annoyance at this ridiculous venture of returning the spawnling to her parents was far better than letting himself get dragged under by thoughts of his mother. There was every chance the kid’s mother was one of the humans who didn’t make it through the stray blasts that hit the populated areas. And then what? He highly-fucking-doubted Miss ‘Can’t-Abandon-A-Child’ was going to accept the reality that this kid was a lost cause. And he was not bringing home a human child to raise as a fucking pet. Not fucking happening.

He glared at the small girl, anger already boiling at the thought of the fuss Georgia was going to kick up if the kid’s mother was dead. Why couldn’t she just have perished on the battlefield? What kind of human child survives a demon battle just long enough to make his life difficult? He’d never been fond of human spawn anyway, but this particular child made his fingers itch with violence. She had her face buried in Georgia’s shoulder, refusing to meet his gaze, but there was something about her that just… made him want to snap her frail little neck.

Only the thought of having to deal with Georgia’s inevitable meltdown, were he to follow that urge, made him clench his hands by his sides, tempering the impulse.

“Do any of these houses look familiar, baby?” Georgia cooed at the child on her hip.

The girl twisted her neck to look at the houses. After a moment’s contemplation, she pointed a finger at the yellow-painted door of a relatively unscathed home. “That one.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful! Your mama’s gonna be so happy to see you!” Georgia chirped, relief plain in her voice as she immediately changed direction to head up the garden path.

“Wait.” He clasped a hand to her shoulder and pulled her and the child behind him. “There’s enough magic restraints on this village to make humans… unstable. I don’t want you face to face with one before I can ensure they’re not a threat.”

“What do you mean ‘magic restraints’?” she asked, and only then did he realize he’d justified his actions to her, clearly giving her the impression she could ask fucking questions. Fuck’s sake.

He briefly considered telling her to pipe down and just follow orders, but he really couldn't be arsed with the inevitable flood of guilt and other squishy, uncomfortable emotions he knew she'd cause with that frightened-yet-stubborn look he'd already learned to loathe. Fucking Breeders.

“Lord Aran had the wherewithal to cloak the village in restraining magic before the battle began. It keeps the humans docile and mostly unaware of what’s going on around them, so we don’t suddenly have the human military attempting to intervene, or clips of magic spreading on the Internet. It’s standard procedure when we have to break our human disguise on a larger scale.”

“Oh.” She gave him an uncertain look as she instinctively clutched the child closer. “And Suzanne… Is she also under this influence?”

He eyed the spawnling, who still had her face buried against Georgia’s shoulder, refusing to look at him. “Yes. But it wouldn’t hurt to give her an extra dose, seeing how she was apparently wandering around in the middle of the battlefield.”

Despite his reluctance to touch the grimy kid, he reached out to press two fingers to her temple, to ensure his magic laser-focused on her feeble little mind. But Georgia took a half-step back, mouth already open to protest.

“I’m not going to harm her,” he growled, irritable and ready to be done with this whole farce. “What do you think is best for her—mild confusion and a long nap, or the risk of real memories surfacing in a couple of days, causing a lifetime of trauma?” He didn't give a shit if the kid had a psychological breakdown, but judging from Georgia’s softened stance, presenting it as being in the child’s best interest did the trick.

Human religion spoke a lot of the sins that could lead them astray: Greed. Lust. Envy. And sure, more than one hapless human had signed a bargain with him over the years, motivated by mortal sin. But their real weakness? The easiest thing to exploit?

A tender heart.

No doubt Georgia had been manipulated and exploited for hers plenty before she ever met him.

“Let’s get you back to your mama,” Georgia whispered softly to the child clutching onto her for dear life. Then she nodded to Kesh.