Fuck this.He started walking in the direction of home. It was going to take him nearly an hour to get there at a normal pace, but he was still on a razor’s edge, and there was no way he was trusting himself in a cab with a human driver right now.
He didn’t want to talk to anyone. He didn’t want anyone to talk to him.
So much for his control. So much for blending in. He’d done some Hulk shit on a random idiot’s car and then given Eva’s best friend nightmares for life. He supposed he should be glad he hadn’t burst into flames, but damn, it had been close. Way too close.
THEDEVILMAYCARE
MURMUR LEANED BACK IN HIS CHAIR, WATCHING THEarray of emotions flitting across Suyin’s face. There was confusion, shock, denial, and finally, some kind of resentment, as though she were angry with him for daring to suggest that her father was a demon.
Strangely, he didn’t mind being the target of her indignation.
He was the first to admit he didn’t like humans. Even half humans. He didn’t like demons either. He didn’t like anyone. But Suyin was exceptional.
Her company was tolerable. Enjoyable, even. Her intelligence was refreshing. And her body, slender, lithe, graceful—
He quickly buried the arousal that stirred his blood as soon as he recalled the sight of her pinned beneath him. His body was dead. He’d made that sacrifice long ago. It had been a suitable exchange to master his practice. He’d accepted it.
Well, it’s obviously not dead anymore, is it?
It has to be.If it wasn’t, he didn’t know what that meantfor him. It had to have been a one-time thing. Nothing had changed. Maybe he’d imagined it.
Denial hinders your progress and rots your mind. Accept the inevitable. The witch has roused your desire, and you should have her. Sate yourself in her. Take her again and again until you’ve fed this urge.
Be silent. He shook himself and focused back on Suyin, still standing beside his chair.
“My father—No.” Her head was down, her gaze fixed on the open grimoire on the table. “It can’t be. He wasn’t—His name was Samuel, not Gamigin, and—”
“Demons often use fake names on Earth when they’re trying to blend in. And Gamigin’s other name was Samigina. Look it up. Samuel seems like a reasonable substitute.”
Her gaze shot to his, eyes wide.
“Did you ever meet him?” Murmur asked, genuinely curious. Much of Gamigin’s life was a mystery to him.
“Technically yes, but he died only a few months after I was born, so I don’t remember him.”
“And what did your mother tell you about him?”
“I—Almost nothing.” Suyin frowned. “But she said he was passionate about demonology, not that he was an actual demon.”
“Well, she lied.”
“Why would she do that?” She searched Murmur’s eyes almost desperately, like she was still hoping for him to spring up and announce this had all been a trick.
“I don’t know.” He softened his tone. Seeing her in distress made him uncomfortable. He much preferred her hard shell and sharp edges. “If I had to guess, I would say for your own safety. She likely believed that you, and your father’s legacy, would be safest if you believed yourself simply to be a blood-born witch. Then you wouldn’t go searching for hints of your father’s past and accidentally expose yourself.”
“But—” She sputtered. “But I’m not aging!”
“You’re immortal. Of course you’re not aging.”
Her eyes bugged. “I’ve been stressing about this for years. I thought I had some kind of super-charged witch ability that I had no control over, for fuck’s sake. She could have prepared me!”
“As far as I know, you’re the only Cambion in existence right now. She may not have known.”
“The only what?”
“Cambion. A demon-human hybrid. Much like a Nephilim—an angel-human hybrid—you’re immortal, you have special abilities, and your blood has powerful magical properties. Hence its usefulness in my spell. It was your father who gave me the idea to use it, actually. He has a whole section of his book dedicated to studying a Cambion’s physiology and the magical properties of their blood. Another reason your mother may have kept you a secret.”
“What do you mean?”
