Nimara had been sitting outside of the warded house for the better part of the day and had yet to encounter her target. She'd arrived in the early hours of dawn, when the world was just waking, sat through the morning and watched as a male exited the house and disappeared down the trail towards town.
A few hours later he had returned, a large tote bag heavy with items in grip. Then he'd exited again, a new bag in hand. No woman in sight all morning.
Time bled on into the afternoon and cicada buzzed nearby, a droning call to its fellow bugs. There was still no sign of the woman and Nimara began to wonder if she was even in the home? There was a chance she had left before Nimara had arrived.
She turned toward the village, the smells of dinner beginning to permeate the air, and inhaled deeply. Just there, mixed with the smells of dough and salt, was the musk of scales and attics. Her stomach grumbled. "Perfect. We'll get dinner and find the demon."
She imagined if the woman was not at home she was probably in the vicinity of the demon.
A nervous bile sat in the back of her throat. The demon with its old and powerful aura put her on edge. Especially considering that Solstice had been a fearsome warrior and incarnations typically only grew stronger. With their union actualized there was no saying what the current one was capable of.
She shook her head, glamour rippling into place as she veered onto one of the roads toward the village. These were Eatons fears and anxieties roiling inside her. There was always the fear of death when facing a powerful opponent, but Eaton had died at the hands of this individual. The trauma that formed in the last few moments of her life bloomed like little weeds in Nimaras psyche. This was why she didn't like remembering past lives.
The demon was no enemy of hers, and was probably powerful enough to free her. She brought a hand to her cheek, it had healed quickly but she knew if she found her reflection, the thick black lines would be there, sitting so heavy in the skin even her glamour failed to cover them.
Prince Yuen's instructions had said that he would join her soon. It was best to acquaint herself with the demon as soon as possible. She refused to be an imperial dog, collared by a master. If the demon couldn't help her she'd at least make sure she had a powerful ally.
The stinky vypnyr came to mind at the thought of allies. It hadn't occurred to ask if he knew anything of Delta's tattoos. Angus had appeared to have none himself. During her stay in the dungeon she had seen the prince only interact with the vypnyr on rare occasions. A few of the Emperor's royal guards had come in one night, dragged away the man and returned him beaten and bruised in the dark hours of the morning. Otherwise he had mostly just rot in the cell.
Being full blooded vypnyr he was inept at fae energies anyways. The vypnyr were flesh and blood, fur and teeth, while the fae were flowers, leaves and bark. There were two half bloods capable of fae magic but they had ties to the imperial court, so there was no use seeking answers and solutions from them.
It did not take long to locate the demon, who she found wheeling about baskets of bread, a canine beast of scales and fur accompanying him.
At the sight of her, its odd patches of hair bristled and raised, a low clicking coming from deep in its gullet. Nimara gave the creature a vicious smile, flashing serrated teeth, which only provoked it further. It's low clicks rolling into a steady growl.
"It's alright, Elly." The man's voice, without the pretense of the howling winds of the demon, was smooth and melodic. It matched his pretty face. The beast, Elly, quit her growling and turned her large eyes to the man, who patted the top of her head reassuringly. "My apologies, fae. Waterwolves are sensitive to large energetic fields… and very protective of their pack mates."
He then held out a hand, "My name is Mikhail Maaroi, demonborn and an Ambassador of the Tellan Kingdom. We did not get a chance to formally meet the other night."
"You may call me Nimara." She shook his hand with her own 'five' fingered one. A feature she now knew to add in the glamour.