“I don’t want to hear it, Kay,” he said, his arm still around Johanna.
“I was trying to help,” I promised, ignoring his comment. “You told Jeremiah—”
“A conversation that was never meant for your ears,” he interjected.
“That your power was growing exponentially, and without Johanna, you would erupt,” I finished, ignoring him again. “So I did what I thought was best.”
“By going to Ashmedai?” Incredulity colored his tone.
“Well, no, I went to Alastor,” I informed him. “Then Ashmedai found me in the human realm and forced me to tell him what I knew.”
My father’s cheeks had taken on a reddish tinge. “Alastor?”
“Present,” the Archdemon murmured as he appeared with a simmering Lucía in his arms. He didn’t release her, his grip remaining firm and reminding me of the grasp my dad had on Johanna.
It didn’t appear to be sexual so much as necessary, like they required contact to keep their powers under control.
“You worked with my daughter on this asinine plan?”
“No, I sent her to the human realm to find a piece of the Divinity in exchange for a holy blade,” the Archdemon explained as he set his chin on Lucía’s slender shoulder.
Okay, well, maybehistouch was meant to be sexual.
“A holy blade?” My father’s icy gaze returned to me, his short brown hair waving in the late morning breeze—because, yeah, the atmosphere had changed again, making it almost noon here rather than the midnight we’d just experienced in Vancouver.
It’d been night here when we’d left, but perhaps it’d been on the cusp of morning. And who knew how long we’d actually been gone? Time was a fucked-up device between the realms.
“Why did you need a holy blade?” my father asked.
“To kill Ezra,” I deadpanned. “Obviously.”
My father considered that for a moment. “If that’s all you wanted, why not ask me?”
“Because I don’t want to owe you any favors.” The last time I’d made a deal with him, I’d ended up grounded in Hell for a thousand years with no chance of venturing back to the human realm.
“Yet making a deal with Alastor suited?” he demanded.
“He wanted a piece of the Divinity, which I delivered.”
He arched his brow. “And he gave you the knife?”
“Well, no—”
“And you don’t see the problem there?” he prompted.
“Oh, I see the problem, but—”
“You tricked my daughter into a one-sided arrangement that you have no intention of fulfilling. That’s a direct attack on my kingdom,” he stated flatly, his focus having shifted to Alastor.
The dark-haired Archdemon merely grinned. “War between our realms? Sounds delicious.”
“Of course you would think that,” Lucía snapped. “Death is all you care about.”
“Oh, I assure you, sweetling, there are other things I very much care about,” he murmured, his lips against her neck.
She growled.
He chuckled.
