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“He had a household full of them,” added Alethea, voice flat, gaze focused inward. “He liked to hurt them. Abuse them. Most of all, he relished their fear.”
“If they bored him—and by bore him, I mean if they didn’t show the appropriate amount of fear when he hurt them—he would make one of the other children kill them.” Jonas swallowed. “His sentinels were of the same ilk as him, and so he sometimes shared us with them. Some were particularly brutal.”
Despite what they’d been through, Knox couldn’t find it in him to feel any sympathy for two people who were planning to sic two beasts on his son and then kill his mate.
Harper frowned. “You were initially stray demons?”
“Little history lesson,” said Jonas. “There was once a Prime by the name of Houston Steward—Knox will remember him. He was my father; Alethea’s father. He wasn’t extremely powerful, but he was strong. Good. Honorable. A true leader. But his lair was small, and larger lairs kept coming along, plucking the strongest members out of our lair. It got smaller and smaller, until it was too weak to stand on its own. The remaining demons were forced to become strays or join other lairs. Only those who were utterly loyal to my father stayed.”
“The other lairs were well-aware that ours was so frequently targeted,” added Alethea. “Some did try to help when he appealed to them for aid. Nora—she was Prime of Dario’s lair at the time—tried. Isla’s old Prime, Rhea, also tried; Isla was actually one of her sentinels at the time, so she did what she could at Rhea’s command. But did the other Primes offer to help him? No.” Her upper lip curled. “They were happy to take in those who fled the sinking ship.”
Jonas placed a supportive hand on her shoulder. “It wasn’t until the death toll got too high that the other Primes acted. Our father was dead by then. The other Primes didn’t care about that. They didn’t care about the lives that were lost. They only stepped in because those deaths came close to attracting human attention,” he said bitterly.
“Our mother fled with us.” Alethea’s eyes dulled with pain. “Cordell took us in, killed her, and made our lives a living hell. We had another sibling. Isaac was only three.”
Jonas let out a shaky breath. “He was so small and frail. His body couldn’t take Cordell’s brutal ways. He died of internal injuries. And all that could have been avoided if the other Primes had just united to stand with our father. Instead, they turned a blind eye.” He glared at Knox. “You turned a blind eye. If you had stood with my father, the others would have left him alone out of blind terror.”
“You’re not being realistic,” said Knox, bluntly. “Either that or you aren’t fully aware of the truth.”
Alethea’s hands balled up into fists. “We know the truth.”
“Then you know that your father aimed to build an army and declare war.” He noticed the way both siblings stiffened, but Knox went on, “He approached demons from many lairs and tried persuading them to join his side and be an ‘inside man’ for him, much like you did with Roan.”
Houston had even tried it with Knox’s demons. Loyal to the bone, they’d come to Knox about it. He’d warned Houston that if he attempted such a thing again, Knox would put him through a world of pain. Houston hadn’t bothered him after that.
“The Primes that targeted your father didn’t do so merely because his lair was small,” said Knox. “They did it because he was trying to turn their own demons against them. He’d even succeeded with some and ordered them to kill certain members of the lairs—often the anchors of the Primes or sentinels. Such a thing would never go ignored. I’m not sure who led you to believe he was good and honorable, but that isn’t the truth.”
“Then why would Nora and Rhea have stood at his side?” Alethea challenged, red-faced, eyes blazing.
“He had strong alliances with them. The rest of the Primes, including me, suspected that Nora and Rhea had agreed to band with him to form an army, but we couldn’t be sure, so no action was taken against them. Your father brought that devastation upon himself. His family, however, didn’t deserve to suffer for it. It’s regretful that you did—”
“Regretful?” Alethea sneered. “Don’t pretend to feel compassion. It’s not an emotion you’re capable of. What you are very capable of doing is manipulating others, and that’s exactly what you’re trying to do to us right now. You’re feeding us lies, hoping to shake our faith in our father. It won’t work.”
Yeah, Knox could see clearly enough that they wouldn’t believe him. “No one knew Cordell was abusing children. Not until after he’d turned rogue.”
“Probably not,” said Jonas, face hard. “But I strongly doubt they would have intervened even if they had known. Nora and Rhea would have, but no one else would have given a damn.”
They were wrong. Generally, Primes didn’t interfere in the business of other lairs unless their actions attracted human attention, but Knox would never have overlooked children being abused. Still, he didn’t say as much. The siblings would only think he was trying to placate them.
“And now I’m done talking.” Jonas turned to Charles. “Get your iPhone out and be ready to start recording.”
Knox, if you plan to do something, you need to—
The shuck dipped, coiled to spring, and growled long and low in its throat. The noise made everybody stiffen. Except for Asher. Knox’s heart would have skipped a beat in panic, but it didn’t for the exact same reason that Jonas, Alethea, and Charles exchanged confused looks. The shuck wasn’t growling at Asher; it was growling at them.
“Grant, stop pissing around,” Jonas snapped.
The shuck barked and snapped its teeth so hard Knox was surprised they didn’t crack. The hellcat rounded Asher and sidled up to the shuck with a hiss of warning at Jonas, as if it also planned to protect Asher.
It was the perfect moment for Knox to pyroport to his son and get him to safety, but his demon ushered him to remain still. To watch. To have faith in Asher and his own demon. Fuck if Knox would stay right where he was while his son was in danger, but then he froze as his demon did the unexpected. It finally told him what breed of demon Asher was.
Not a sphinx. Not an archdemon. Not a hybrid. But a breed that had qualities of the two.
Knox, do something, Harper urged.
Knox met her eyes and echoed words he’d heard her earlier say to Alethea. I won’t have to.
Just then, Asher’s face blanked and his eyes bled to black as his demon surfaced. It opened the palm of its little hand. Narrowed its eyes. And then the shuck—lightning-fucking-fast—lunged at the practitioner with a roar. It knocked him flat and ravaged him with teeth and claws. Charles screamed in agony, but it wasn’t just the shuck causing that pain. No, the practitioner was blurring around the edges. Like he was splitting. And then he did. His body sagged to the floor, eyes wide open, and his soul whooshed over to Asher and seemed to sink into his open palm.
