“Most parents’ work doesn’t literally follow them home and turn the door into pudding,” Morgan muttered.
“That only happened once,” Fiona said. Murder made a convincing snorting noise. “Don’t you gang up on me. The tentacles were entirely different from pudding.”
“The pudding was better.”
“True. Is that everything, then?”
There was still so much she hadn’t said. “You know how GreenField’s with House Valefar? Zabloom isn’t. Brad’s contracted to Berith.”
Fiona gave her a sharp look. “Berith, as in the House that claims New York? And they know about Valefar?”
She nodded. Her mother rubbed her face. “So we’ve got a potential rapid expansion of soul-buying, vampiric involvement, and the breaking of at least one demon treaty. Oof. Well, I guess we know why the seers have been losing their shit.”
Rix sniffed at the air and pricked up his ears. Suddenly, he yanked the leash from Morgan’s hands, going charging down the street. Morgan yelped and took after him.
He didn’t get far; he dashed over to a pile of refuse half-clogging the gutter at the end of the block and sniffed it, tail going like mad. Then he came running part of the way back to Morgan, barking not at her or Fiona but at Murder. The crow took off and flew over to the pile to investigate. Fiona reached the animals first. Morgan puffed up a distant fourth,distinctly aware that her occasionally taking the stairs united with youth had been woefully inadequate compared to the cardio her mother got on a regular basis.
“Don’t eat that,” Fiona was remonstrating as Morgan arrived. Murder gleefully ignored her, pulling what could only be an eyeball from the pile. Rix grinned at the crow proudly.
“What is it?” Morgan said with trepidation. “Cockatrice? Jackalope?”
“I think it’s a raccoon,” Fiona grimaced. “Ripe one, though. Murder, stop that, that’s disgusting.”
Murder happily gulped down his prize with glee. Then he condescended to hop up on top of Rix’s head. The bird ignored the glamour, perching directly on the hellhound’s spines. The interference with the image of a silky fur with that of purple spines braced between crow feet gave Morgan a headache. Rix capered, Murder staying firmly in place like an animate hat.
“You seem to have listened to more of your father’s lectures on demon politics than I’d expected,” her mother commented as she watched the byplay. “Remind me, exactly which school did your Luke go to again?”
Morgan froze. She couldn’t say she hadn’t said. She couldn’t repeat her earlier lie while holding the crystal. She couldn’t even say he wasn’t her Luke.
Fiona sighed. “You know, it would be incredibly hypocritical of me to criticize, given my history. You’re using protection?”
Morgan blushed so hard her ears felt like they should be giving off steam. “Mother!”
“Don’t make me drag up the pictures of some of the potential results,” Fiona warned.
“I’m twenty-three and I’m not an idiot,” Morgan snapped. “I’m using protection. All of the relevant ones. And I’m not discussing this further with you.”
“Well, not that part, at least,” Fiona flicked a hand. “I’m a little surprised, I always thought you’d go more mammalian. Unless he’s keeping the glamour going?”
“Mother!”
“Sorry, sorry. More importantly—he’ll side with us at least against the GreenField House? And Ravenfell? Actually, which House is he, is he with the locals or the interloper?”
“GreenField’s with the interloper, Lucareoth is from the local House, Berith,” Morgan said, giving up. “And he’ll definitely accept help against them both, I’m sure. Mother, are you going to…?”
“Deport your boyfriend?” Fiona smirked for a moment, but then grew serious. “Enemy of my enemy is worth a lot in the moment, but it only goes so far, pumpkin. I don’t make the rules. But I also don’t have to report things right away. Let’s get past this apocalypse, and then we can talk. You know this isn’t a thing for the long run, right? Flings are fun, and it feels good to be chosen by the bad boy, but there was always going to be an expiration date.”
“Lucareoth’s not like that,” she protested.
“They always seem that way,” Fiona sighed. “And sometimes it even lasts for a little while. I think they like the sense of transgression from choosing someone on the opposite team, too. But there was a reason I ended up with your father in the end. You need to let people be the people they’re going to be. They can only fight their own nature for so long.”
That made too much sense. Or maybe he really did want to change sides. But that didn’t mean he would still want herin the end. He was in love with the human world, maybe even in love with the idea of being in love. But she wasn’t the kind of girl the sexy bad boy stayed with. She wasn’t even a more moral person by her own plane’s standards. Even if he stayed, he’d eventually meet someone who was actually special, who was powerful enough to not need to make terrible bargains and not lie all the time, and figure out his mistake. She’d been the one to push him to go along with everything he was trying to leave, she was the one who had walked out; he was probably figuring out his mistake already. She felt a little sick.
“But for now, we’ve got an apocalypse to stop. Possibly two. The demon war first, I think—this whole soul market thing is probably worse in the long run, but it will take time to set up. We need to keep the squabbling Houses from making a mess of Manhattan before anything else. Which means it’s time to introduce me to your boyfriend. For real, this time.”
26
The whole way up in the stinkovator, she tried to think of ways to warn Lucareoth without her mother noticing. She’d promised to protect him. Assuming he hadn’t left already.
