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“Want me to beat the shit out of him for you? Not that I think you’d need my help, but over the years I’ve watched and learned quite a few of his weaknesses. My code name isn’t Snake for no reason. Always know your allies just as well as you do your enemies.” Athon’s offer was touching. Nithe felt the bond strengthen as he pondered his response.
“So you’re not going to tell me to hear the guy out? That he wouldn’t do something like this?” he finally replied.
“No. Why would I?”
“Balthazar did.” Athon snorted at Nithe’s reasoning.
“Balthazar knows the guy, I’ll give him that. But, Ram can be a right prick when he wants to be, and if he made this big of a fuck up, knowingly or not, then he deserves to have to work his ass off and have his ass handed to him. We’ll let you have first run at him, but I’m sure we’re all going to want a piece of him, even Roth.”
It took about two seconds from the time Roth’s name left Athon’s lips for it to hit them in the chest. The bond stretched as if searching but when it found nothing it sizzled and crackled like oil in a fryer around their hearts. Jezzie sighed and leaned her head against Athon’s shoulder.
“Speaking of Roth, what the fuck is up with him at the moment?” Nithe found himself uttering.
“I don’t know,” Athon murmured, eyes downcast. “He’s never been so intentionally cruel to me before. He was fine earlier. Happy, excited. Then he left us in the room, and when he came back it was like a switch had flipped. He’s only ever withdrawn like that once bef—” Athon halted suddenly, his face turned ashen.
“This has happened before? When? Why?” Jezzie peppered him with questions. He could tell she didn’t mean to be abrupt, she just needed a clue, any clue as to why Roth had changed.
Athon bit his lip. “The same way there is information that is not yours to share, that is Roth’s story. I can only share my part of it. This was a very, very long time ago. Please understand that, Jezzie. In hindsight I was an idiot and Roth knew it, but he loved me enough to try. We always knew we were meant to be together, but something was missing. We are both bisexual, obviously, and our lady eluded us. One day, I met someone and I thought she was perfect, but her perfection housed an evil, corrupted ugliness that I’ll never forgive myself for exposing him to. Roth, for his part, disliked her on sight, but for me, he gave her a chance . . . It didn't end well. After it was all said and done, our relationship was nothing but dust. Until you, Jezzie.” Athon took a deep breath in at the curve of Jezzie’s neck, but she stiffened in his arms.
“Wait, so he either realized he doesn’t like me, he thinks I’m just like her—whatever her name is—or something happened to trigger his trauma? I’m assuming whatever the bitch did was traumatic, right?” she pressed.
“You’d be right about that, my love,” Athon agreed.
“Shit!” Nithe offered, in an attempt to fill the silence that followed.
“We seem to be saying that a lot lately,” Athon noted, mildly amused even in the heaviness of the moment.
“We will find him and get answers, Athon. We deserve at least that. Did he say anything else before he left?” Nithe couldn’t stand to see either of them doubt their awesomeness as they were.
“Just that he didn’t love me anymore. Although, there’s no way he would leave without speaking with Deus and your dad, Jez. Fuck! That’s such a weird thing to think about.” He chuckled awkwardly. “Luc tracks everyone. He’s linked to all of us to give orders and monitor our location in emergencies, though he respects our privacy . . . mostly.”
“Right then, Deus and Dad it is. I say it’s time we see what they know about our stubborn jackass of a mate’s whereabouts, don’t you? Wait . . . Deus is the twatty one who called my aunt unhinged, isn’t he?” Her smile took on the calculated cattiness one would expect in a devious minx of a witch. Nithe couldn’t help the pride blooming in his chest as he followed her and Athon from the room.
Chapter 45
“Where is he?” Jezzie’s question rang through the room as the black, heavy, wooden door she’d just thrown open thudded back against the wall beside it. The crack and crumble of broken plaster from the door knob embedding into the masonry caused her to wince momentarily before her resolve returned. She was there for answers, and answers she’d get.
Her eyes zeroed in on her father. He was seated behind the polished, black desk on what appeared to be a throne of the same Victorian era style, except as he pushed back and stood she realized peripherally it’d been upgraded with wheels. When her eyes met his, she saw sadness in them and worry. Her powers reached out to feel his emotions, learning their taste and texture as she familiarized herself with the biological link they shared. His emotions were real, not feigned. She felt his questions and his anger. They grew to match hers, and she quickly pulled back, aware her own feelings had started to feed his.
“Where is he?” she repeated. Her tone was more even and less aggressive, but by no means any less assertive.
“I don’t know, Jezzie. What happened?” Lucifer, her dad—Athon was right, it was still a bit weird—asked gently.
“Yeah, Jezzie, why don’t you tell us why he left? It sure as shit wasn’t anything we did. But you come here with him and Athon and in less than twelve hours he disappears,” Deus, the twatty prick, arrogantly accused.
His tone irked her already agitated nerves and her shadows slipped free of their housing. They flicked out in Deus’s direction, pinned the asinine male to the wall and covered his mouth. Jezzie hadn’t noted his presence until he’d spoken, but she sure as shit noticed him now. She took a deep breath, reigning in her rage.
“He was fine until we came here, asshole. So whatever is going on with him has something to do with being back here. You already have a strike against you for calling my aunt unhinged. You don’t want a second, trust me. Just tell me where he went so we can go retrieve him and figure this out, because I neither have the time, nor the patience, to deal with your stupidity right now.” She sighed as she asked the shadows to retreat, thankful when they did. She didn’t want to make enemies here, and harming one of her father’s closest friends wouldn’t be the smartest move she’d ever made.
“I can’t tell you, sorry.” He didn’t sound sorry in the least. “Even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you, though. My loyalty is to Lucifer and my fellow Hounds, not you, sweetheart.”
“Hmm, I’m not going to play the daddy card here,” she murmured as she got all up in his face, noting how his eyes darted Lucifer’s way and reading the shimmer of cynicism radiating from him. “I don’t need to. I have ways of getting what I want that you can’t even fathom. My aunt is a master at sending messages and extracting information, and I was a most studious and diligent student.” For a brief second the scent and taste of fear hit her senses and a flash akin to intrigue glinted in Deus’s eyes. “And don’t ever call me sweetheart again.”
“Deus, back off. Don’t be a prick, leave my daughter alone.” Lucifer drew Deus’s gaze, but Jezzie refused to look away. Internally she cursed his interference as she felt Deus’s amusement rise.
“See, Daddy to the rescue.” His barely audible words slithered into her ears. One part of her cringed while another rejoiced at Lucifer’s parental concern.
Lucifer heaved a frustrated sigh, “Dude, I can still hear you.”
