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Beyond the expansive white countertop stood my father, wearing plaid pajama pants and holding his own cup of coffee.
“Trying to scare me to death?” I held a hand over my chest while I waited for my heart rate to slow.
“You and I need to talk.” His face lost the smile I had grown accustomed to. “Alone.”
A chill ran through the air. I hadn’t outright avoided my father, but with everything going on, he was the last thing on my mind. He was right. A conversation between us was long overdue.
“Fine,” I replied. “Then talk.”
He turned and looked over his shoulder, as if someone would have followed us to the kitchen. “There are listening ears in this house,” he warned.
I shrugged before turning my back to him and busying myself with pouring my own cup of coffee. “I don’t mind. Everyone in this house can be trusted. As long as Marcus isn’t here, anyway.”
When I turned back around, he stared at me with a blank face.
I took a long breath. “Whatever you have to say, just say it. Everyone’s still asleep.”
He shifted on his feet. “I want to apologize.”
I almost scoffed. “It’s a little late for apologies.”
“Maybe,” he pushed. “But that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t say it, anyway.”
I kept my mouth shut, waiting. Honestly, I had nothing to say to him. He was a stranger to me. A random man from the streets.
“Look,” he started again, “what happened between your mother and me was always bad blood, okay? It was safer for you if nobody knew who you really were.”
“Your daughter?”
He stiffened. “Yes.”
“Do you really think Alek would have killed me, too? I could have helped you. And you sure as hell could have helped me.”
Okay, there goes my plan to keep my mouth shut.
He took a breath, his expression growing troubled. “Clearly, you’re protected with the Night Ravens. I was wrong to misjudge that, but when Marcus was in charge, things were different.”
“Yeah, Alek told me.”
My father crossed his arms over his bare chest. “He told you everything?”
“He told me you were powerful. You were a threat to Marcus, and you needed to be eliminated. End of story.”
He huffed a laugh. “Yeah, that’s probably the story he knows.”
A pause lingered in the air. “Are you saying there’s a different story?”
“Not different,” he answered. “But more complicated, yes. Marcus wanted me dead, but it wasn’t just because I was powerful.”
“Okay…”
“Marcus has wanted to lower the veil for years now. Even before Wrath was dead, he had a special interest in the other side.”
My stomach dropped. “Why would he be interested beyond the veil if Wrath was still alive? I thought that was the whole reason he wanted the veil to be dropped.”
He looked behind us again before taking a step forward and lowering his voice. “He used to have reckless, insane ideas about pulling the powerful spirits from the other side. It was almost like he wanted to build an army here at Night Raven so he could never be challenged again.”
I shook my head, my thoughts spinning in a rapid tornado of confusion. “Build an army? You’re saying he wanted to drop the veil for good so he could harness the evil spirits? I mean, how could he even know that would work?”
