Chapter 33
THIRTY-THREE
AXEL
I didn’t trust Z’s “father” farther than I could throw him—which probably wouldn’t be very far. I was a hugger, not a fighter.
If my hugs included stabbing my victims in the back.
He said his name was “Peter,” but I knew that was a lie. Maybe at one point, the person with that face was named Peter, but not anymore.
What did he want with us? With Z? If he wanted to help, he could at any time, but he never did. All he did was sleep, eat, and fuck anything that moved. Just this morning, I caught him thrusting into that genie, Laurel, in the middle of the hallway.
Every alarm bell in my head was going off at once.
“Axel?” Mary-Lynette frowned up at me from where she stood in the middle of the room, her hands engulfed in orange flames.
I shook myself out of my reverie and smiled down at my semi-adopted daughter. And I said “semi-adopted” because I wasn’t sure if my acquisition of her qualified as “adopting” her. I sort of looked at her, declared her as my kid, and then took her with me. Ahh. Fatherly love.
“Just thinking.” I ruffled her brown hair before nodding back towards the target on the opposite side of the room. “Try again.”
Mary-Lynette’s tiny face scrunched with determination as she took a deep breath. Then she raised her hand and cast her fire at the rubber dummy.
It missed.
“Again,” I instructed.
“I don’t want to.” She pouted and folded her arms over her chest. “I suck.”
“And you’ll continue to suck if you don’t practice,” I countered. “Do you want to suck for the rest of your life?”
Mary-Lynette muttered something too low for me to hear.
“What? I couldn’t hear that?” I cupped my ear and leaned closer to her.
“No.” She kicked her leg, her shoe scuffing against the wooden floor of the training room. “I don’t want to suck.”
“That’s what I thought.” I jerked my chin towards the target. “Again.”
“Wow.” The clacking of Atta’s heels preceded the shifter herself, dressed in a yellow gown that hugged her curves, her brown hair pinned away from her face. She moved to stand beside me, her gaze fixed firmly on the half-human, half-mage child I’d taken under my wing. “You really have a way with words.”
“I’m such a good daddy.”
Her nose wrinkled. “Don’t ever say that again.”
“Say what again? Good?”
“The other word.”
“Such?”
The look she threw me could curdle milk. “Daddy.”
She shuddered dramatically before refocusing on Mary-Lynette. The child took a deep breath, straightened nearly imperceptibly, and then tossed her magic at the target. This time, it came within a few inches, and warmth unfurled in my chest.
“You nearly got it this time!” I smiled broadly and began to clap.
“Let me guess.” Mary-Lynette gave me a droll look over her shoulder, encompassing more sass than someone her age should have. “Again?”
“Again.” I nodded in confirmation.
She muttered something about her other teacher being nicer, but I ignored her. I was the only being alive, aside from Atta and Z, who knew of her existence. She had no other teacher. Brat.
“How’s she doing?” Atta’s eyes softened as she studied the younger girl.
“Her training’s coming along nicely,” I answered. “She can summon fire on command now. We’ve been practicing her aim. It…needs some work.”
As if to punctuate my point, her next shot went wild, lighting the rafters on fire. I waved my own hand, and shadows immediately smothered the flames.
“It’s still surreal to think that humans and nightmares can procreate.” Atta shook her head in disbelief. “All this time…”
“We were told a lie,” I agreed.
Or maybe the world was changing. Maybe what was once impossible was now possible. Maybe, maybe, maybe.
“Yeah.” She pursed her lips before blowing out a breath. “I can’t stay for long. I have a meeting with the vampire representative in just a little bit.”
So far, only half of the council members had chosen to take our side in the war to come. The others were still loyal to the previous kings and were searching for ways to free them from the dungeons. I wished we could just kill them now and get it over with, but…politics. Ugh.
There was only one thing I hated more than politics, and that was diarrhea. Though, now that I thought about it, politics did give me diarrhea. Maybe there was a connection there?—
Focus, Axel.
“How’s our little friend doing?”
“You mean Z’s dear old dad?” Atta snorted and lifted a slightly trembling hand to fix a few pins securing her hair in place. “I’m still trying to figure out what the fuck he wants. He doesn’t appear interested in the war or any of the politics. He just keeps demanding to see Z.”
“Should she see him?” I asked, the thought squeezing my heart in an iron vise.
Technically, Z wasn’t related to me, but I’d come to think of her as the annoying little sister I never wanted. I didn’t know when it had happened or how, but I knew I would protect her with my life.
Hence why I was here, fighting on her behalf, participating in dreaded politics, and fighting off blasted diarrhea.
“No.” Atta shook her head adamantly then paused. Frowned. “I mean, maybe? I don’t know.”
“Do you think he’s here to kill her?” But that didn’t seem right. I couldn’t put my finger on what, exactly, Gabriel’s—or Peter’s, as he referred to himself as—endgame was.
“He’s definitely interested in her, that’s for sure.” Atta frowned. “The question is why?”
“Because he’s her father?” I suggested.
“Maybe…” Atta began to nibble on her lower lip, her gaze distant—no doubt thinking through every past encounter with the strange, eccentric angel walking our halls.
Before I could question her further, Mary-Lynette tugged on the hem of my shirt with a sheepish expression.
“Yes, firecracker?”
“Ummm…” She released the fabric and wrung her hands together. “I may have started another fire.”
I placed a hand to my heart and sniffled. “I’m so proud of you.”
“And the fire’s spreading rapidly,” she continued. “I’m afraid it’s going to burn down the entire building.”
“This is the best day of my life,” I whispered in a choked voice.
Was this what it meant for your little girl to grow up?
“Axel!” Atta’s voice was rife with alarm. “Put out the damn flames!”
With a sigh, I waved my hands and smothered the flames yet again. Only smoke remained, filtering through the open windows.
I damn near burst with pride when I spotted the charred target lying on the ground.
“Yes! You did it!” I offered my hand to Mary-Lynette to high-five, which she did hesitantly, a shy smile on her face.
I was totally nailing the whole “father” thing.
Family who started fires together, stayed together.
Best. Father. Ever.