10. CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER TEN
Omaera
The demon advisor was waiting for us outside my apartment building when we got there.
She was stunning.
And clearly not happy to have been assigned to, what I’m sure she viewed as, “babysitting duty.”
She looked more like a dominatrix than a teacher too. And how she wasn’t sweating buckets in those tight, black pleather pants, the black leather jacket, and knee-high, black stiletto boots was beyond me. I was looking forward to ditching my jeans the moment I walked into my apartment, and throwing on some booty shorts.
“You’re late,” she said.
“I’m as on time as public transit allows,” I said, leveling my gaze at her. “I’m assuming you’re my new demon advisor?” I walked right up to her and held out my hand. “Omaera Playfair.”
She didn’t take my hand. Rather, she looked me up and down, a sneer growing on her bright-red painted lips. Then she sniffed and her eyes darkened, her sneer growing. “You’re human.”
“Uh, no I’m not . . . I’ve fried people’s brains. I’m pretty sure I’m a demon. ”
“You’re a hybrid .” The way she said hybrid was with so much disdain, it was as if the world itself tasted like vomit on her tongue.
Maxar and Drak gaped at me.
“That’s never . . . That’s impossible,” Drak said. “Humans and . . . It’s never happened before. We would have smelled human on her.”
“It’s never been documented,” Maxar corrected. “I’m sure it’s happened. And we didn’t smell human on her, because all we smell is our mate. Her human scent is probably masked by her unique mate scent.”
“How?” the demon woman asked. I still didn’t even know her fucking name.
“Well,” I started, “when two people—demon or otherwise—get urges in their pants, they take off their clothes, mash their genitals together because it feels really good. And then, if they’re lucky, fireworks explode in their brains and nether regions. And sometimes a baby results in that. I guess I’m that baby.” I faced Maxar, still perplexed and shocked at this new revelation. “My mother was human.”
His brows hiked, and he nodded. “That explains why Delia committed her life to protecting you. I’m not sure how your mother knew about Delia’s powers, but either way, it kept you alive. A hybrid heir is . . . Oh, the scandal. And if you did have half-siblings, they’d definitely challenge your legitimacy.”
“This explains a lot,” I said more to myself than anyone else.
“I cannot teach you,” the woman said. “You are human. You are not supposed to know of our world. You’re an abom—”
“I would reconsider the word you’re about to use,” Drak said sharply. “She’s half human, half demon, and full queen.” That pompous, aristocratic tone of his for once made me happy. “And you have yet to address her properly as Her Royal Highness, Your Majesty, or Queen Omaera. It would behoove you to change not only your tone, but your view of who you can and cannot teach.”
The demon’s eyes flared and sparks flickered in her dark brown irises. “She is human.”
“So?” Maxar asked.
Even from where he stood next to me, I could feel his body temperature rising. Purple and orange flames flickered and sparked on his fingertips as he clenched and unclenched them at his sides. “Her father was the King. It doesn’t matter who her mother was. She is King Donovar’s only living heir. He died, now she is Queen.”
“Lord Lerris is still alive,” the demon woman said flatly.
“And you’d rather have that waste of skin as the leader of the Realm?” Drak asked matching her cool and even tone. “Maybe you’re not the right teacher or advisor for the Queen.”
At that comment, the demon woman’s nostrils flared, and she lifted up her chin. “I’m not sure I can teach her. I have no idea how the human side of her will react, or if it is even capable of creating a mind block.”
“Humans aren’t inept, you know,” I said, hating that they were having a conversation about me right in front of me, as though I weren’t there.
All three of them snorted.
My anger flared. But it was enough to draw her attention and curiosity. “For a halfling, you have a lot of power.”
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, because I’m the fucking Queen. Now, are you going to teach me and advise me? Or do I need to send you on your merry way with a “fuck you” salute, and find someone else who can help me?”
Her lip twitched, threatening a smile, but it never happened. She exhaled a long, weary sigh. “Let’s see what we’re working with, I suppose.”
“Yeah, I haven’t really stepped into the whole queen role yet, but with that attitude, I think you can address me as ‘Your Majesty’ until further notice.” I headed for the front door of my building, smiling when I heard Maxar and Drak snort behind me.
“What’s your name?” Maxar asked her. “You know, for bookkeeping purposes?”
That made me laugh. I used my key to open the door and pushed it hard enough that Drak could catch it and let the other two in.
“Raewyn Vade,” she said with no inflection in her tone.
“And you live here?” he asked.
“Yes.”
We all stepped into the elevator when the door opened. The ride up was tense and quiet. It made me miss Zandren because I feel like he would have easily cut the tension by saying something witty or goofy. Maxar was pretty clever too. I was grateful for him asking Raewyn the questions, because after the way she regarded me as lower than an amoeba because I’m a hybrid, I wanted to fry her brains until they were sunny side up.
The apartment was empty, which I expected since Gemma was still at work.
My belly churned with hunger and I went to the fridge, grabbing an apple and a jar of peanut butter. Were these people my guests? Did I have to offer them tea and coffee and food and stuff?
Earlier that morning, I heated up the pizza and leftover Thai food for them for breakfast. Then Drak stole Gemma’s steak out of the freezer while Zandren went to the bakery, and then the sandwich shop. I’m sure he was ordering a pizza to Delia’s house right now too.
I also made them coffee this morning.
I had been as much of a hostess to these uninvited guests as I could muster.
But this bitch with the long, dark hair, perfect winged black eyeliner, and crimson lips didn’t deserve tap water, in my opinion.
Slicing the apple, I scooped peanut butter onto each side and then took a bite. This was my go-to snack of choice. A complete protein; it got me my fats, my vitamins, and my fiber. Plus, it tasted like my childhood. Whenever I was upset, Aunt Delia would always put on a pot of rooibos tea, and make me apples and peanut butter. Then we’d sit at her kitchen table in the warm sunshine and she’d make me talk until I felt better. Sometimes she never even said anything. I just needed to vent, and by venting, I solved things myself. But I knew she was always there, listening, lending a supportive ear and an even more supportive heart. I never had to question whether or not she’d have my back or be in my corner.
That sudden memory made my chest ache and my throat grow tight. I set the paring knife down as the rush of painful emotions broke through the wall I’d created around my grief, and it all spilled forth in a wave of tears and sobbing.
“What the fuck?” Raewyn said.
But I couldn’t give a damn about her. I shook uncontrollably as the realization that I’d never see or speak to Delia again hit me like an eighteen-wheeler on an icy road.
A very warm arm wrapped around my shoulder, then turned me so I crashed face-first into a hard, hot chest. “It’s okay,” Maxar murmured. “It just hit you, didn’t it?”
I nodded and sobbed.
“What happened?” Raewyn asked.
“Her aunt, a spellcaster mage, was murdered today by two demons. We found her in her home. A necromancer came and recounted the last moments of her life where they tortured her,” Drak said matter-of-factly.
“Fuck,” Raewyn breathed. “Do you know which demons?”
“No.”
Maxar rubbed my back as I trembled and sobbed quietly against him. He was so warm, and he smelled faintly like a bonfire, but not in a repelling way. It was comforting. Slowly, my breathing decelerated, and I wasn’t sobbing as hard. The tears still fell and that lump at the back of my throat seemed to have doubled in size, but I wasn’t shaking anymore and I was able to pull in deeper breaths.
He released his tight hold on me and held me by the shoulders. “You just lost someone really important to you. It’s okay not to be . . . yourself right now. If you break down, it’s okay. It’s kind of expected.” I blinked through the tears at him, for the first time really looking into his eyes and how utterly beautiful they were. So many shades of gold, copper, and amber. And the longer I stared, the more those colors seemed to actually swirl around each other. It was hypnotic, but also calming. His smile pulled me out of my pit of despair. “There’s my girl.”
I smirked. “ Your girl?”
His smile was so damned boyish and not at all cheeky like I was growing accustomed to. “A guy can hope.”
Letting out a stuttered breath from between thinly parted lips, I closed my eyes for a moment. “I can’t believe she’s just . . . gone.”
“It’ll take a while to truly sink in,” he said gently. “And it will get easier. But right now, understandably, it’s raw. So your emotions will be too.”
I blinked at him again. “Who have you lost?”
His smile was sad and small. “Too many people to list right now. Let me finish cutting up your apple for you. You go sit with that angry chick over there.” He jerked his strong chin toward Raewyn, who sat like she had a stick up her ass, on the edge of the couch. “Nice shirt, by the way.” He tugged on the hem. “I love Tough Love and Rough Play. I’ve seen them in concert six times.”
Swallowing, I blotted at my eyes with the sleeve of my T-shirt, smiling meekly at him before I wandered over toward my advisor . I sat on the coffee table facing her. “I understand this is probably not a job you wanted. And I hope this isn’t taking you away from family or another job, but I could really use your help. I think we got off on the wrong foot, and if you’re willing to start over, so am I.” Rolling my lips inward, I held out my hand toward her again .
She stared at it, blinking long, thick, fake eyelashes.
Her top lip started to curl up, like the idea of even touching me made her want to retch. She glanced sideways at Drak, who stood not too far away glaring at her, with his arms crossed over his chest.
Finally, she exhaled, almost in defeat, and took my hand. “Yes, let’s start over.”
I was too emotionally drained, too angry, sad, and overwhelmed to take her reluctance personally, even though it totally was. Whatever. She didn’t like me, and I didn’t like her. But I needed her, and she was my subject. So she had to obey her Queen.
Not going to lie, I kind of liked that power. Not enough to hang onto the crown for any length of time, and certainly not eternity, but the fact that she didn’t really have a choice, no matter how much of a racist she was, kind of brought me a sick sense of joy.
“So, what do I do first?” I asked.
Maxar brought over the plate of sliced apples and a bowl of peanut butter.
Smiling, I thanked him, took it, and dove in.
Raewyn watched with more disdain, her sourpuss face and clear impatience only making me take my time even more.
Fuck you, bitch. I hadn’t eaten anything all day. Also, my aunt just died, and I’m your goddamned Queen. So deal with it.
She said nothing as I ate my apples and peanut butter. In fact, nobody said anything .
Drak stood there like a wax figurine, his expression neutral and annoying, and Maxar was on his phone at the barstool at the kitchen counter.
Once I finished my snack, I got up and went to the fridge, pulling out a bottle of guava and spirulina kombucha. I drank the whole thing, maintaining eye contact with Raewyn the entire time. Once I put the bottle into the recycling bin, I approached her again. “What do I do first?”
She stood up from the couch. “You lay down.”
Nodding, I did as she said.
“Now, close your eyes and relax.”
A bit difficult considering how my life was going right now, but I did the best I could.
I was working on deepening my breath and slowing it down when a knife, an actual fucking knife, sliced through the two lobes of my brain. I bolted upright with a scream, clutching at my head. I pulled my hands away, expecting to see blood. But there wasn’t anything there.
I faced Raewyn, furious. But unlike when I’d been angry with Drak, Zandren, and Gemma before, causing them to scream in pain and clutch the sides of their head while blood fell from their nose, a big shield slammed down around Raewyn—in her brain not literally—and my anger didn’t penetrate. “What did you do to me?”
Her gaze was unwavering. “Next time I do that, I want you to envision that shield you just felt me put up. Literally picture it in your head and stop me.”
I glared at her.
“Lay back down,” she said with no inflection.
I did as I was told, still shooting lasers at her out of my eyes. Her shield was still up and impenetrable.
Once again, I tried to relax. She came at me this time with an axe, cutting cross-wise through my brain. I envisioned a shield, but it was weak, and it came down too late. The axe was already in my head. My brain throbbed in pain, and when I reached up and touched my upper lip then opened my eyes, blood stained my finger.
“Again,” she said .
So we did it again.
And again. And again.
And every time, she tried a different weapon.
And every time, my shields weren’t strong enough.
I was exhausted, and blood poured from my nose and ears, all over the light-blue, crushed velvet, pillow sham Gemma bought at a flea market.
“I think that’s enough for today,” Maxar said.
“No. She needs to learn how to not only block another demon, but block herself and control her emotions,” Drak said. “Again.”
Goddammit, these men were hot and cold. Maxar was hot and compassionate, and Drak was as cold as a corpse with zero empathy or consideration. I was getting whiplash.
Popping one eye open, I found the coldhearted vampire standing at the end of the couch, staring down at me with so much disapproval in his gaze, I actually wanted to curl up in a little ball and just weep. Weep because I was tired. I was grieving, and I was clearly a shitty demon and queen. He was probably standing there watching me, wondering how he could get out of this Fated Mates bullshit too. That he’d been stuck with a dud. A hybrid, halfling dud that couldn’t even do what demons did best. “I’m doing the best I can,” I croaked.
Barely a flicker of emotion flashed in his eyes. “If you were, you’d mate with us so you could absorb some of our powers and help yourself.”
“Dude,” Maxar said with disapproval.
But Drak didn’t even flinch at his chastising.
I glared at the fanged freak in front of me.
“Interesting,” Raewyn said. “You want to kill him.”
I shifted my gaze to her. “Yes, but not really.”
Maxar chuckled softly.
Keeping my focus on Raewyn, I asked, “Is there anything else you can tell me that will help me? You’ve literally told me to envision a shield. And I do. But it’s not strong enough, and it comes down too late. What else can I do to make this work?”
Her gaze was unwavering, and I’m sure she expected it to be unnerving too, but I refused to allow her to intimidate me.
“That right there,” she said after a moment. “That feeling that you’re having about me right now, as well as the one you have about the vampire, the feeling that you refuse to let us intimidate you. Lean into that as hard as you can.”
“What does that mean?” I really hated that she could read my emotions.
“Just try it. Close your eyes.”
Growling, I closed my eyes and focused on how much I really hated this woman. On how much she was treating me like some misfit mutt, when what I really needed was a bit of compassion, support, and understanding. How hard was it to be kind? Was it that much harder than being a bitch?
I channeled all my energy into not letting her intimidate me. Into hating her. Into not letting her into my mind. I threw up the shield. This time, it was stronger. I could just feel it. It was thicker. Heavier. And it took a lot out of me to keep it up. But when the pressure of something coming down on it dug into my mind, I looked up to find a sword bearing down, but unable to break through.
I smiled and thought more about how I hated this woman, but at the same time pitied her. She didn’t know me. And that was her loss. She judged me before she even got to know me, before she even gave me a chance. She was nothing more than a racist bitch with attitude and flawless makeup. But as pretty as she was, that didn’t make her beautiful. I was awesome, and I pitied her for not giving me a chance and getting to know that awesomeness.
And just when I thought my shield couldn’t get any stronger, the pressure of her sword lifted.
My eyes flew open, my chest heaved.
I glanced at Raewyn. Her eyes held a smile, but her mouth was a flat line. “Better.”
I knew without having to say anything, that that was as close to a compliment that I was going to get.
“Again,” she said. “Only this time you need to try not to fry my brain. I’m going to drop my shield and you’re going to have the exact same thoughts about me as you did before. Only this time, don’t pity me. Just hate me. ”
Heat raced into my chest and cheeks. I hated that she could read my emotions so easily. How could she do that even with my shield up though? Was the shield just to stop her from frying my brain? Would I need another shield to keep her out of my head?
I sat up and concentrated on this woman. On how full of herself she seemed. On how righteous and better than me she came across. She literally sniffed the air, and then called me a human and an abomination. She was a racist bitch. A self-important snag without any compassion, kindness, or empathy in her heart. If this was what all demon women were like, then no-fucking-thank you.
“Is that all you’ve got?” she asked with a haughty laugh. “I feel nothing.” She glanced at Drak, “Did she try to fry your brain?”
All he did was nod.
“Was it as pathetic as this?”
Her gaze swung to Maxar. “So, like, what is the deal with you guys anyway? Have you ever been with a demon?”
Fury lanced through me, hot and painful, and I growled, my eyes boring into her skull and wrinkle-free forehead.
She screamed and clutched at her head as I brought down my own blade across the two lobes in her skull. Blood poured from her nose, but she pushed back with a medium-strength shield of her own, and opened her eyes. “Good. Now take your anger and compress it into a ball.”
“What?”
“You have to imagine all of this. Take the anger and compress it. Gather it like a colored energy and squeeze it into a ball.”
She was struggling to keep her shield up. I knew she could easily drop a stronger one and keep me out, but she needed me to learn how to stop my assault on people. I didn’t like that I was hurting her. Even though I wasn’t fond of her, even though I pitied her, I didn’t want to hurt her.
“Stop pitying me. Hate me, you stupid, hybrid bitch. Hate me, but take that hate and that anger and gather it up. If you let it run free, you’ll never be able to control it. Collect it. You . . . you have to.”
Closing my eyes —
“Don’t close your eyes!”
Jesus. Okay.
Opening my eyes, I focused on her face, contorting in pain. Meanwhile, inside my head, I was scooping up all this red, buzzing energy. It was like fog, but also flickering and pulsing lights. I gathered it in my arms, squeezing it into a small ball. But the ball grew with the more red energy I grabbed. Soon it was the size of a basketball and I held it in my hand.
“Good,” she said. “Now drop a shield around it. Like a dome. Trap it.”
This was all so weird. The fact that I could do all of this in my mind, just imagine it, but it was actually doing something to someone else, was surreal and not something I’m totally sure I believed. But it was happening, so I needed to just go with it. I set the pulsing, red energy, ball of anger on the ground in my mind, then conjured a shield. A transparent one. And dropped it over the ball, containing that rage. Trapping it so that it didn’t wreak havoc when I didn’t want it to.
I’d closed my eyes again at some point and blinked them open to find Raewyn sitting there on the coffee table, dabbing gently at her nose with a black handkerchief. “That wasn’t terrible for your first try.”
The front door opened and Gemma walked in, her gaze turning curious when she took in my bloody face, Raewyn, and the blood on her face. “Uh . . . hi.”
“What are you doing home early?” I asked, standing up and only a little wobbly. I approached her, unsure how to break the news about Aunt Delia.
“What are you talking about? It’s nine-thirty. My shift ended at nine.”
I glanced at the clock on the stove. “How long were we doing that thing on the couch?” I asked, turning to Maxar.
“Like eight hours,” he said.
My eyes nearly popped clean from my skull. That did not feel like eight hours. That felt more like twenty minutes, an hour tops.
“What is going on here?” Gemma asked.
“Raewyn is a demon, and she’s teaching me how to block demon mind control while also blocking my own anger so I don’t roast brains anymore.”
Gemma’s gaze flared. “Oh! Well, that’s great. I’ve had a bit of a headache all day and I wondered if it was because you tried to broil my gray matter yesterday.”
I pouted. “I’m sorry again.”
She shrugged. “It’s fine.”
Raewyn stood up from her spot on the coffee table. “I will be back tomorrow morning to work on this with you again.” She glanced at Gemma, sniffed the air and made a face of disgust, like she’d just smelled five-day-old fish that fell behind the radiator. Then she was gone.
“Well, she seems like someone I can’t wait to get to know better,” Gemma said sarcastically. She opened the freezer. “Hey, who ate my steak?”
Drak cleared his throat.
I closed the freezer and took Gemma’s hand. “We need to talk.”
Her hazel-green eyes went wide. “What’s wrong now?”
“Just . . . come with me, okay?” I laced our fingers together and took her out to the patio, closing the sliding glass door behind us, but not before shooting Drak a look that said, “Order dinner for Gemma, you steak-stealing dick.”
If he was any kind of Fated Mate, he’d know what that look meant and do the right thing.
“Okay, you’re freaking me out a little,” Gemma said as we took seats on the vinyl lounge chairs where we liked to read with our bikinis and sunhats on, with the tunes blasting. “What did you find out at Delia’s?”
I swallowed past my tight throat. My eyes stung and that rush of pure pain filled my chest again. “Um,” I started, my bottom lip wobbling. “We . . . went there, hoping to talk to her, and um . . .” I licked my lips.
Gemma’s gaze widened again. “And . . . what?”
I glanced down at my lap and reached for her hands lacing our fingers together. I gave her hands a gentle squeeze. She squeezed back to reassure me. Finally, I lifted my head again and breathed out slowly through thinly parted lips as a tear sprinted down my cheek. “She was um . . . she was dead. They …they killed her.”
Gemma gasped, released my hands and surged to her feet. “Who did?”
“Demons. ”
“How do you know?”
“Zandren smelled them, and we had a necromancer mage come and he recounted her last few moments alive.”
She stepped out from where our legs touched and began to pace, hammering me with questions.
Questions I could barely answer. Questions that I’d asked a thousand times already since finding Delia there on her bedroom floor.
“How did this happen?” she asked, tears now trekking down her face, like they were mine.
“We think they’re looking for me. To take me out as heir . . . or something. We don’t know. But that picture of you and I at the beach is gone. So they know what I look like.”
“But why’d they kill her? I don’t understand.”
“Because she wouldn’t give up my location. Wouldn’t tell them what they wanted to know.”
“Which was?”
“Who my mother was. And it turns out she was human. I’m half human, half demon, which is apparently so rare that nobody has ever heard of it happening, or at least it’s not documented.”
“Oh, I’m sure that’s not going to go over well with these pureblood loving immortals. I could tell that that femme fatale with the killer eyeliner didn’t like me. Is it because I’m human?”
My head bobbed and I sniffed and wiped away a tear. “She doesn’t like me either because I’m half human.”
“Jesus. Talk about living in the past. Let’s be a little more progressive and accepting here, people. Diversity, equity, inclusion.”
I reached for her to stop her from continuing to pace. “Gem, I’m sorry.”
Her chin quivered. “I’m sorry too. She’s your aunt.”
“She is an aunt to both of us. She took you in like you were her own after your own parents passed. We both lost someone special today.”
“Now all we have is each other.” She wrapped her arms around me and I hugged her back just as tight .
in the apartment pulled my attention. Zandren was back, and he had two big paper bags loaded with takeout food. He spotted me on the deck with Gemma and his face lit up like it wasn’t nighttime and a ray of sunshine had just burst through the wall and right onto his face. But when he realized that I was telling Gemma about Aunt Delia, his face sobered.
“Are you going to have a funeral?” Gemma asked.
“I’d like to. I’m honestly not even sure I’m her only family. Since Delia was actually a mage and probably centuries old, maybe she has other family somewhere and they have claim to her body and get to decide what to do with it.”
Gemma frowned. “Maybe. But I still think she’d trust you to do the right thing. Her favorite flowers, something in the garden. Maybe a celebration of life, rather than a dour event with people wearing black and crying?”
I smirked. “All I own is black.”
That made her smile, and she opened the sliding glass door. “That’s true. Okay, then make it a goth party. I think Delia would have liked that too.”
The scent of Indian food wafted up my nostrils. Zandren was busy unloading all the to-go containers onto the kitchen counter. “I wasn’t sure what you’d want, so I just ordered like half the menu.”
Another surge of warm, comforting heat filled my chest, and I found myself deliberately sidling up closer to him, pulling in his cedar and honey scent. “Thank you. This was exactly what we needed.” I glared at Drak, who’d eaten Gemma’s steak and seemed to hold zero guilt about it. “I appreciate you taking care of us, and not just eating our food, but also providing some.”
Gemma brought plates down from the cupboard, and soon, we all had chicken methi matar malai, dal turka, shahi paneer, beef rogan josh, navratan korma, three different types of naan bread, samosas, pakoras, and basmati rice. I was stuffed by the time I put my plate in the dishwasher. But I was also really grateful. Grateful that I wasn’t alone. That I not only had Gemma, but for the first time since they showed up on my doorstep last night, that the guys were here and helping me figure out who killed Delia and why.
Zandren brought his plate to the dishwasher too, after having had four heaping helpings. “You sure you had enough to eat, Little One?”
“I’m full,” I said with a small smile. “But thank you for getting dinner.”
“Anything for you.” He cupped my chin with his thumb and forefinger. “I hope you know that.”
“I’m starting to,” I said softly.
Maxar cleared his throat and brought his dishes to the dishwasher too. “So, Teddy, what did you and Kase find out at Delia’s house?”
“Teddy?” Zandren asked with a cute cock of his head.
“Teddy Bear.” Maxar’s grin was cheeky.
Zandren growled. “Kase was able to disable about eight more spells. There are still more around the house, but he couldn’t undo them. He said he’s going to do some reading tonight on what he thinks the spells entail and will go back tomorrow to try again.”
“And did he find anything else after he disabled those spells?” I asked.
Zandren nodded and reached into the back pocket of his jeans. He pulled out a small, weathered photo of a black woman with wild curls just like mine. She was cradling a small, smiling baby. The woman was smiling too. She was beautiful with kind eyes, and pure happiness radiating from her as she stared down at the infant in her arms.
“Is that my mother?” My throat was tight for the millionth time that day.
He nodded. “Yes, we believe it is. And that’s you.”
“I . . . I’ve never known what she looked like. Delia said she didn’t have any pictures. Why would she lie to me?”
“To protect you,” Drak said. “Everything she did was to protect you.”
My gaze flicked to him for half a second before I focused back on the photo. I stroked my finger over my mother’s face. “How did you and my father meet?” I whispered. “Why did you want me kept a secret from him?”
“Because you’re a hybrid mutt,” Drak said. “The Realm would never accept a hybrid, halfling heir to the throne. And if word gets around that you are indeed a hybrid, there will be an uprising. People will pick sides. It also opens up the doors for another species leader to step in and challenge for the main throne.” His gaze drifted to Zandren. “Doesn’t it? ”
Zandren cleared his throat. “My father does not want to rule the Realm. I’ll assure you of that now.”
“Until he realizes his only other option is a mage, a vampire, a hybrid-demon-slash-human, or Lerris Byrche,” Drak pointed out. “Then he might start singing a different tune.”
“Would you shut up,” I snapped at him. “You’re nothing but a Negative Nancy and I’m sick of it. Unless you have something nice to say, just keep your fangs closed.”
His blue eyes went wide, and he winced at the same time a trickle of blood seeped from his nose. That’s when I realized I was trying to sous vide his brain. I quickly gathered all the red, ragey smoke in my mind as fast and as best I could and squished it into a compressed little ball, then I dropped a dome shield over it.
Drak stopped wincing and blinked a few times.
“Sorry,” I muttered. “Are you okay?”
He nodded. “Yes. Thank you for stopping it.”
Even though it was him, I beamed anyway. Without the dominatrix demon there, I managed to successfully block my own rage from breaking someone’s mind. I was getting the hang of it.
That was one tiny victory in a day of colossal failures.
Hopefully, tomorrow would bring forth more answers than questions, and we found ourselves one step closer to finding Delia’s killer. At the very least, maybe that demon bitch with the impeccable winged eyeliner would help me get ever better control of my rage and I’d be able to properly get pissed off at Drak without attempting to blanch his brains.
However, if I did blanch his brains, just a little hopefully, I would destroy the annoying asshole portion. Because that side of him was getting old, fast.