Chapter 41
FORTY-ONE
A personal arsenal can’t be full. Never stop adding weapons.
CELINE
I’m not scared.
Logic says I should be, and I have a lifetime of evidence to back that up. But as I walk out the front door, with a sword slung low around my waist and a pistol tucked into my shoulder harness, all I feel is right.
Maybe this moment was destined by whichever gods are still alive, or maybe it’s a moment like any other. I don’t care. I know why I’m here and what I’m willing to do to win: whatever it fucking takes.
I don’t want my father to know the others are here with me, so they’re spaced around the courtyard and hidden by one of Ciprian’s nightmares. Only Malach and Lyklan are visible, walking on either side of me as we approach the gate.
Father’s face is tomato red. I smile as I spot the purple vein in his temple.
He’s furious.
For once, I’m glad. I’m full of magic, more than I’ve ever had before, thanks to the estate.
My skin prickles as it searches for an outlet.
The three of us stop about ten feet from the gate, and a gust of artificial wind ruffles my hair.
I prop one hand on my hip. It’s a casual pose, but no one is fooled.
“You seem lost,” I say.
“And you seem to have finally come home.” S’lach crosses his arms. He’s trying to be casual too, but there’s no disguising the rage in his eyes. He’s stuffed full of it, and the excess will need to find an outlet soon.
“Well, the estate does belong to me.” I’m goading him a little. I want to see how he’ll play this. I have the element of surprise, but that won’t last. He’ll make his move soon, and my guard can’t dip even for a second.
His gaze flicks to Malach, and I lock my knees to stop myself from stepping between them. “I see that you survived.” He raises his eyebrows and sneers at Lyklan. “With help.”
I scoff to draw his attention away from them. “That’s the funny thing about loyalty, Dad. If it’s coerced, it doesn’t tend to stick.” I speak to him in my mother’s thatsha dialect and watch with delight as the vein in his temple throbs.
“A dead language? Really, Celine?” His lips curl. He’s trying to be cruel, but his words can’t touch me anymore.
“As long as I breathe, it can’t be dead.” I argue with him about the language because I can’t bring myself to mention her. He and I both know what I mean, and when his lips flatten into a tight, pinched line above his red beard, I celebrate the direct hit.
“You think you’re smart—”
“Yes.” I smile. “Yes, I do.”
“You’re nothing,” he snarls. “You made a mistake returning here, and you’ll know it when I use the pathetic angel beside you to end your life.”
His vicious stare lands on Malach as he twists his hand.
I brace myself, but nothing happens. It’s obvious that he’s trying to activate a brand that no longer exists. Thank the gods for Sheena.
“Having trouble?” I ask, lifting Malach’s shirt to reveal the unblemished skin.
Father’s face turns from red to purple, and I briefly wonder if I can make him mad enough to drop dead. If his heart gave out, it would save me a lot of trouble, but I can’t expect good luck. Freak accidents never take out the people they should.
Even still, seeing his impotent fury heals something inside me that’s been festering for decades.
He focuses on Lyklan next. “Your family’s deaths are on your head, guardian.” Spittle flies from his mouth as he crowds the gate.
“Wrong again,” I correct him. “They’re under my protection now, and I’ll peel the skin off your back and feed it to you before I let you hurt another angel in this nish or any other.”
“Bold words, Daughter.” He waves his hand at the gate, and it flickers from golden to gray, then back again. “Especially when you’re still hiding behind your mother after all this time.”
“It must sting,” I say. “To marry up and realize you’ll never belong at the top.”
He hurls a dark, whirling ball of magic at me. I lift my hand to block it, but it slams against the gate and fizzles out before it can reach us.
My hand stays up in case he tries again. Inside, I’m buzzing with excitement I do my best to hide. The spine is powerful, and we all just got a firsthand demonstration. It will keep him out as long as it can, but it won’t be able to hold him off forever. He’s too strong.
“You missed,” I say. “Bummer, Dad.”
He eyes the gate speculatively, seeing exactly what I do: gray smudges spreading outward from the spot his blast made impact.
That attack cost him magic and energy, but if he keeps trying, the gate will eventually crumble, leaving nothing standing between him and the innocent angels inside the house.
“Your time runs short, Celine.” He meets my eyes, and I hate that it’s like looking in a mirror. “After I kill you, this estate and everything inside it will belong to me. No one will help you, and nothing will stop me from pushing this realm to its full potential.”
I yawn. “Boring villain speech. I stopped listening halfway through. Look, this is my house, and it always will be. It belonged to my mother, and her magic runs through my veins.”
“The law—”
I cut him off with a sharp laugh, my lips curling into a smirk.
“Maybe I’m more similar to you than we realized, because I don’t give a flying fuck about whatever law you pull out of your ass.
This is my house. The magic recognizes me as its heir, and there’s no law higher than radiant legacy.
” I tap my chin with my index finger. “Didn’t you teach me that between beatings? ”
“Insolent,” he seethes, advancing toward the gate.
“Yeah, yeah, I know. Insolent. Overly emotional. Weak. Pathetic. Embarrassing. Did I miss anything? You know, you need to get some new material; the old stuff is getting tired.”
His eyes darken as he sneers at me. I know that look. He’s imagining me dead, just like old times. It doesn’t unsettle me the way it used to.
In my memories, he was bigger, almost monstrous. His shadow was inescapable and ravenous, looming over me while I cowered. Too big to be beaten. I tried—gods, I tried my best—but I never believed I would win. I simply refused to give up.
Of all my weaknesses, imagined and real, I’ve never been a quitter. Even when I left to create a new life, I couldn’t leave the past behind. I had to wall it off. Part of me always knew the day would come when I would have to tear the wall down and face my monster.
Without the shadow of the past, I can see that he’s just some guy. Shorter than Malach, in worse shape than Riven, and hideous, his ugly insides finally showing on the outside.
“You’re headed for a painful end, Daughter.”
His words are revealing. If I pay attention, I can use them against him.
He’s furious. Being locked out of his house isn’t only humiliating; it makes him look weak, too.
And that’s the one thing he can’t stand.
He’ll either want me taken care of quickly before anyone finds out, or he’ll want to make an example out of crushing me and use it for political leverage.
A plan takes shape in my mind. If I want to end this once and for all, I need to make him an offer he can’t resist. “You want to humble me,” I murmur.
“Prove you’re better, stronger, and more fit to lead.
” I have no interest in being in charge, not here or in the Fringes.
Living a life where I’m free to make my own choices and mistakes is all I’ve ever wanted, but that won’t compute for someone like my father.
“I don’t need to prove anything,” he snaps. “Everyone already knows.”
“Do they?” I raise one eyebrow and drum my fingers against the hilt of my sword. “Because I’ve asked around, and you have no idea the things they’re saying about you. Learning I’m alive after you told everyone I was dead will only make it worse.”
I’m guessing. I can’t be positive he’s the one who started the rumors of my death, but when his face twists with homicidal rage, I’m sure I guessed right.
“The other nish are tools, useful in their roles, but dull. They’re little better than the animals on that filthy monster realm. Why do I care if they gossip?” His gaze darts behind me, searching the courtyard. “Speaking of animals, where are the rest of your lovers?”
“Why?” I drawl. “Are you hoping to make a better impression? Because I’ve got to tell you, Dad, that ship already floated into the eternal beyond.”
He shrugs as if he’s bored, but his shoulders are too tense.
“I suppose you want the estate back.”
“It’s mine,” he snaps.
“Sure, whatever makes you feel better.” I wave my hand in a lazy arc. “Tell me, do you remember our old deal, Dad? The one where you said you would fuck off and leave me alone if I could beat you in a fight?”
His lips curl, and he steps all the way up to the gate—close enough to present a threat, but not close enough to risk getting shocked. “Ah yes. You never succeeded, did you?”
I shift my weight and glance at my feet.
Bravado won’t make him agree; he needs to believe I’m nervous.
And the best way to keep everyone safe is to face him one-on-one.
I feel Malach’s eyes on me. He’s trying to figure out my angle, but it gives the impression he’s unsure of my skills, and S’lach notices. Perfect timing.
“Not yet, I haven’t.” I flash him a cocky smirk and let it drop a second later.
“But I never say never.” I don’t enjoy pretending to be an unsure kid, but my time on Earth has taught me the value of playing a role.
If outsmarting my father means taking a note from Alistair’s or Ciprian’s playbooks, I’ll gladly do it.
“You want to duel me for the estate?” Father cocks his head. I take a step back and force a smile. I’m going all in on his hubris. If he thinks the duel is his idea, he’ll agree to the plan before considering the risks.
“Sure.” I toss Malach a worried look, then lift my chin defiantly as I face the gate. “Yes. Let’s duel for the estate. We’ll duel to submission—”
“No,” he snarls. “Dueling to submission is for children. We’ll duel to the death.”
Got you, you bastard.
I frown and force my bottom lip to quiver. “To the death, surely the thatsha council—”
“The thatsha council does what I say, and as you so astutely pointed out, the law is what we make it. It’s a duel to the death, or nothing, Celine. You’ve been a thorn in my side since the day you were born, and I’m eager to remove you once and for all.”
Malach growls. He’s furious over S’lach’s words, but I’ve heard them all before, and it’s been a long time since I believed them.
Activating my magic before he can change his mind, my skin tingles as the runes roll over my skin. “A duel to the death, three days from now. We’ll settle this once and for all, in the courtyard like old times.”
His eyes glitter as he studies the truth runes littering my arms, neck, and face, then chuckles. “You’ve got a deal, Daughter.”
My magic reads his intent. I smile grimly, because for once in his miserable life, S’lach is telling the truth. He could always change his mind, but for now, he means what he’s saying.
Without another word, I turn my back on him and walk away. We’ll settle this in three days, and I’m not sure who is more impatient: me or him.