“Fine, it’s exactly what you think.” And I wasn’t going to justify myself to a woman who hadn’t been in my life for over a decade.
A tear rolled down her cheek and my chest clenched until she opened her mouth. “Your mother would be so disappointed.”
High fae couldn’t lie. Her words stabbed into my gut andtwisted.
Because she was right. I’d always promised my mom I wouldn’t go near the demons. And twenty-five years I’d kept that promise— only getting close enough to haul them into the Mage Council.
My eyes burned but I wouldn’t let her see me cry.
“My mother is dead, and you know nothing about my life. Nice seeing you, Harriette. Maybe we can catch up again in ten years.”
I put my drink down on the nearest table and pushed past her, ignoring her as she called my name. Then I drove home, pretending not to see the shadow of wings on the road in front of me the whole way.
13
Samael
The little witch wasn’t in a good mood the next afternoon, and I couldn’t help the twitch of my lips as she shot me a dark look and stalked to the same chair she sat in last night.
“Well?” she waved her hand at the sofa in front of her. “Can we get on with this? Things to do, murderers to catch, you know how it is.”
I stared at her. I didn’tthinkthe witch had a death wish. She’d certainly seemed cowed when I first bonded her, but even then, she’d dared tobargainwith me. Perhaps that was what had drawn my interest after the boredom of the past century.
Danica thought she could sit here, make a pitiful attempt at a ward to placate me, and return to her busy schedule. She frowned at my silence, and shifted in her seat, obviously disconcerted.
I held her gaze. “I’ve just been notified that someone has been hunting lesser demons and slaughtering them without permission. You wouldn’t know who would do such a thing, would you?”
“That’s illegal. All kills have to be either sanctioned or in self-defense.” Interest flickered in her eyes. “Were they killed with an arrow?”
“No. They were tortured.”
The thought made me want to let my fire free to burn this world.Mypeople. They may be lesser demons, brought here by stupid humans who thought they could control them, but they were stillmypeople.
I pushed the thought away and strode to her. “Hold out your hand.”
Danica gritted her teeth at my order but after a moment she complied. She’d given me her left hand, and I stroked a finger down my bond, admiring the intricate gold that curled along her skin.
Mine.
“What are you doing with that?” The little witch attempted to pull her hand from mine as I pulled a small knife from my pocket.
“You were bleeding when you created the ward. You were also bleeding when you brokemyward at my club,” I said, ignoring her struggles. The witch kicked out at me and I paused, staring down at her face.
She glowered up at me but after a moment where she struggled with herself, she stilled, allowing me to cut her palm. The strangest feeling of protectiveness welled in my chest at the sight of her blood and I forced it down. The little witch was vicious in a fight, with a healthy survival instinct. But if she gained control of her wards, she would be much safer— meaning she would be more likely to live long enough to discover exactly who dared to murder my demons.
“Now,” I said, taking my seat as blood welled in her cupped palm. “Go back to the moment you raised your ward. Recreate those feelings.”
She sighed but complied, obviously motivated to complete the task and get back to work. Her face screwed up in a way that made my lips want to curl into a grin for the first time in decades. “You’re trying too hard.”
She growled but her face went blank— except for a slight crease between her brows.
“Feel the fear,” I instructed. “Feel the protectiveness. Nowvisualizeyour ward. Remember the colors, the feeling of it between you and danger. Stretch like a butterfly escaping a cocoon.”
The slightest hint of purple-gold magic spilled from her chest, pushing toward me. It slid past my body and I raised my eyebrow. The little witch had encompassed me within her ward instead of warding against me.
“Strengthen it,” I ordered her, but she was panting, her face pale. Whoever had suppressed her magic had done such a good job that accessing it seemed almost impossible for her. Retribution made my hands fist.Whywould someone magically neuter the little witch?
“More,” I demanded, and she strained in an attempt to boost the ward. I knew witch magic, and this wasn’t it. Whoever the little witch’s father was, his magic had mixed with her mother’s, creating something unique.
