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"Yes."
"Where is he?" The lethal menace in his voice sends a chill down my spine. I think he'd rip my father apart piece by piece and enjoy every minute of it if he could get his hands on him. He'd dance in a shower of his blood with a smile on his face and not feel a second of remorse or regret. For me, he'd forsake the Light in a quest for revenge.
I understand now why Abigail sent me here, what I had to see. I know what I need to do now. For the first time since meeting Dax, I lie to him.
"He's in prison," I say, glancing down at my hands. "He'll be there for the rest of his life." It's not true. He was released almost two years ago. He spent less time in prison for murder than some people spend for drug crimes. Our system is broken. But I can't tell Dax that now.
Not with Abigail's vision still fresh in my mind. My friends' bodies weren't the only ones piled before us in an endless field of death. So was my father's.
The Forsaken have him.
And I don't know what I'm supposed to do about that.
I know what Dax would do, though. Dax would let him die.
I've never forgiven him for what he did. But I've never been able to stop loving him, either. That's my big secret. That's the pain I carry. My father tried to kill me…and some part of me loves him still.
How am I supposed to confess that to the man who would forsake the Light to avenge me?
Chapter Eight
Rissa
The drive down themountain is every bit as treacherous as Damrion promised. I nestle in Dax's arms in the back of Malachi's truck, alternately gripping the door handle for dear life, and trying desperately to distract myself from my thoughts.
The truck slips and slides on patches of black ice, not even the chains helping much. Malachi is more serious than I've ever seenhim, all of his attention focused on the road. Reaper's beside him in the front seat, his eyes focused on the roadway too.
"Close your eyes, Rissa," Dax murmurs. "Relax."
"Easy for you to say. I'm not entirely sure an accident would kill anyone else in this truck," I mutter, eyeing him sideways. "But if we go over the side of the mountain, it'll definitely take me out."
"Malachi won't allow us to go over the side." Dax smiles. "He doesn't suck as a driver."
"I heard that," Malachi says. "I'm fucking excellent behind the wheel."
I smile despite myself. The giant warrior is like a big kid. He doesn't take anything serious for long.
"You need sleep."
"I'm not very tired."
"You are." Dax runs his lips across my forehead. "Close your eyes,bittesmå ljós. I'll hold you while you sleep."
"What about you?" I eye him suspiciously. "Fae do sleep, right?"
"Ja." A smile dances across his lips, his eyes haunting in the pale moonlight. "Fae sleep, Valkyrie."
"Just checking." I lay my head against his chest with a sigh. "You might as well tell me how this Valkyrie power works, Dax. If I'm supposed to use it, I'm going to have to know how."
"You already know how," he says. "You wield it like the Fae wieldMagn. It's an instinct for you, something you reach for when you feel something deeply. You've probably been grasping for it your entire life and just didn't know it."
"Wouldn't someone have noticed?"
"Humans don't notice most things that are right under their noses. They're oblivious," he says, running his hands through my hair. When his fingers catch on tangles, he sets to workgently unsnarling them. "And they have no aptitude for magic. At most, they'd have noticed a glow, but nothing more."
"Wouldn'tIhave noticed?" I ask, my voice whisper soft.
His hands still in my hair. "A Valkyrie doesn't reach her full power until adulthood,bittesmå ljós. You would have been using only small amounts of your power until recently. Perhaps not even enough for you to understand what you were doing."
