“I mean, of course, I do.” She pushed to her feet and started to pace, her features pale. “But my father is alive. You asked me earlier at the bar what was wrong. I just found out about him tonight.”
Týr sat up. “What do you mean? I thought your parents died in a plane crash.”
“That’s what I thought, too…” Her throat worked as if trying not to give in to her emotions. “It turns out he wasn’t on that plane but simply left me alone since I was a baby. Do you know, the only photo I have of my parents is so faded you can barely make out there are even people in it?”
“Kira—”
She shook her head, arms wrapping around her torso as if to hold herself together. “I could forgive him if he suffered amnesia or something, butnooo, he thought it was better for me this way, growing up an orphan. Now,he suddenly remembers he has a daughter and wants her back—” She pressed her lips tightly together, eyes gleaming with tears.
“How did you find out?” Týr rose and crossed to where she halted near the fireplace. He stopped a foot away, giving her space.
She lifted her wet stare to his. “He sent a messenger to deliver the news because he’s apparently too busy to do so himself. If he thinks I’m simply going to hop onto a plane and fly across the continents to see him, he is mistaken.”
Týr didn’t say anything for a minute, his eyebrows pulled in a V. “Did you consider that it could be a ruse? Someone, and I mean anOther, must know you are under the archangel’s and our protection.”
Kira stared at him, lines marring her brow.
“That would be a no.” He led her back to the couch, then lowered and settled her against him once more, careful of her injured shoulder. “Look, don’t meet this messenger again without me, okay? We’ll get to the bottom of this. See if it’s legit.”
“It doesn’t matter anyway. I’m not going.”
Yeah, Kira might decide not to go. But the fact that the asshole had sent a messenger instead of coming himself had all of Týr’s hackles rising. Kira trusted too easily.
He trusted no one.
