The clop of hooves grew louder, along with the babble of voices. Had people forgotten about her and the man with the pistol? “Most slayers don’t attack innocent maidens.” He lowered her to her feet. “Can you walk?” “Y-yes,” she said shakily. “I saved a child’s life. I brought him back from the dead. He saw me do it and thinks I’m a demon he should destroy.” She heard voices—a group of women gossiping about the fallen child and the mysterious lady who had helped, who had been dragged away by some gentleman with a pistol. They certainly hadn’t forgotten. “That’s what you did when you touched Zayan—you tried to return mortal life to him?” He flashed a brief grin. “A naïve hope, love.” His arm on her elbow urged her forward. The carriage was rumbling toward her. Where was Zayan? Already inside? “Why naïve?” she argued. Why was she trying to cross swords with Lukos? Why did she feel such a need to understand that she was willing to fight with a being who had transformed from wolf to man in front of her eyes?
