“What? Am I supposed to pretend you weren’t out for the entire night, who knows where, doing who knows what?”
“I had a date.”
“I see that. What I’m curious about is what fool is both brave enough and stupid enough to have a sleepover with Satan’s youngest daughter? Does he have some sort of death wish?”
“Dad, I am an adult. I make my own decisions, including whether or not my dates will turn into sleepovers. And I don’t have to run it by you for approval first.”
“That doesn’t mean I can’t have a say in certain young men and their appropriateness.”
“And if you, in any way, mess with one of my dates I will personally call Mom and tell her about the trip to Petra you took with Lil and how affectionate the two of you seemed when I met you for dinner.”
My father’s jaw dropped. Then, narrowing his eyes, he said, “You wouldn’t dare.”
I couldn’t help smiling—I had him on the ropes with that one. “Tell your new fiancée, future consort, and the mother of your two grown daughters you went on a romantic vacation with your former consort? You bet your flaming red ass I will, buster.”
“Faith! I’m your father. You wouldn’t do that to me.”
“I would. In a heartbeat.”
“Fine, fine,” he said.
The tension left my shoulders.
“If it weren’t for the fact you’re using them against your own sire I’d be proud of your ability to devise seemingly simple, but still airtight, traps on the fly. But since it is me, we’ll discuss this when you get home, young lady. And by ‘when,’ I mean now.”
“Then quit blocking my phase window and I will.” It was best if I tried to keep up a brave front. Dad couldn’t just show up here and throw my life into complete disarray without consequences.
“No, no.” He smirked. “I don’t think I will. I think maybe you should remember who gave you those demonic powers.”
“So what? You’re going to make me walk over there instead of phasing as punishment?” Really? This was what he was going to throw at me? Oh, the horror. I shall have to walk across the hall.
“Basically, yes.” My father closed the portal with a decisive snap.
I growled.
Matt cleared his throat, still frozen in place. “He’s going to kill me, isn’t he?”
Mr. I-Control-My-Own-Destiny wasn’t going to back out on me now, was he? “What happened to ‘screw it’? When I brought up potential death by the Prince of Darkness last night, the fact he might kill you was only a minor consideration.”
“The death part is. It’s the torture and the agony beforehand I’m worried about.”
“There will be no torturing of anyone. Unless it involves you and me, naked, with a bottle of chocolate syrup and a bowl of strawberries,” I said, and leaned in to kiss him again.
A whoosh of air hit my back. Which could only mean one thing. Damn it.
“You always ruin my fun,” my father said. He stood at the foot of the bed, giving him a clear view of Matt and me.
“Dad. I thought we were done talking about this. I’ll be home in a moment.”
“We are done.” My father smiled sweetly. “I wanted to pass along to Mr. Andrews that the block on the use of powers is for the entire building. So don’t even try to sneak out by phasing.”
Subtle, he was not.
“You put a magical block on the entire building?” Matt asked, his voice cracking.
“So if I wanted to use my—” I tried to release my wings, but they stayed stubbornly plastered to my body. Focusing, I tried to let my tail descend, but it, too, stayed where it was. “Damn it.”
“Entire building.” He pointed at Matt and then back to his own two eyes. “So you will have to face me if you intend to get to work today.”
“Dad!”
“Yes, sir,” Matt said, nodding. “But perhaps it would be better if we had this particular discussion without your daughter present, and when I’m wearing pants?”
“Hmm, I do see your point.”
“I don’t.” I turned to focus on Matt. “You don’t need to explain anything to him. He is not a part of this.”
“Faith.” He took my hand and kissed it. “I think this relationship might work better if your father isn’t torturing me in the lower depths of Hell. So if he wants to talk with me, I’m fine with that.”
“Relationship?” At what point had we formally declared this a relationship? Not that I minded, but still. Shouldn’t there have been some sort of memo?
“Misogynistic assholes, both of you,” I said, before facing my father. Better to stay focused on dealing with one crisis, and worry about panicking on the relationship thing later. “Could you give us a moment, please?”
“Fine.” He rolled his eyes and the portal closed.
“Relationship?” I bent down for a final kiss before going home to commit patricide.
“Misogynistic asshole?”
“I don’t need you to run interference with my dad.”
“And I don’t need my girlfriend’s dad to think I’m too big of a coward to face him,” he said.
I wanted to gag at the stench of testosterone rolling off him. If I wasn’t careful, someone was going to pee on my leg before my parents went home.
“That would be true, with anybody else’s dad. But my dad isn’t anybody else’s dad.”
“He’s Satan, yes, I know. Although he has to know I’m going to respect you, but at the same time not cower in fear of him. It’s a guy thing.”
“It’s one step above sniffing each other’s butts.” I rose and walked out of the bedroom. Crossing the hall, I shook my head and tried to focus on the fact Matt obviously saw this as a relationship instead of my father’s sudden decision to take such an active interest in my life.
“Hello, Daddy,” I growled when I opened the door and found him slumped on my couch.
“Honey.”
“Would you like to explain, precisely, and in as few words as possible, exactly what in the combined names of the Alpha and the Omega you thought you were doing?”
“You mean right now? Or a few minutes ago, with the whole Phasing Into Your Boyfriend’s Room thing?”
“Maybe you should start with last night.”
“What about it?”
“Why were you sleeping on my couch and not with Mom at the hotel?”
“Full moon.”
“And Mom was chanting.” I sighed and sat on the couch beside him, feeling the tiniest amount of sympathy for the guy. “So why didn’t you sleep in your hotel room?”
“Your mother checked out of her room and moved into my suite. And when I tried to check into a new room, they told me the hotel was booked. Apparently, there’s some sort of conference in town and all the local hotels are full, so I thought I’d come hang out with my two best girls. Except neither one of my girls was here.” His face morphed into a slight pout.
“We went out for drinks,” I said. We’d all agreed not to involve Dad, and I didn’t want to make him suspicious. But I sucked at lying, so it was best to keep my answers brief and fuzzy.
“Good,” he said. “Your sister needs you right now. She isn’t going to say so, of course, but she’s taking this breakup hard and she needs someone to lean on. You two don’t always get on, and I know your mom nags you about it, but you have a bond no one can break. I don’t think your mom gets it, but I do. It was the same for me and my brother, you know.”
“Yeah, Dad, I get it.” I leaned on his shoulder, relaxing into his strength. He infuriated me most of the time, but I could honestly say he’d never stopped at least trying to be a good father. Even if he did have no idea about what was going on in our lives. “But it doesn’t give you the right to scare the shit out of my dates.”
“What? Bassano’s brat?”
“His name is Matt,” I said, my voice taking on a warning edge. “Not the nephilim. Not Bassano’s brat. Matt.”
“Fine. He seemed like a nice-eno
ugh boy. Stupid, and obviously suffering a death wish, but nice. Lawyer, isn’t he?”
“Labor law.”
He nodded thoughtfully. “Oppressing the little guy, or fighting for him?”
“Fighting for him.” I knew dad didn’t have a problem with lawyers—a good proportion of his tenants were lawyers—it was the Helping the Little Guy bit that made him squirm.
“Of course, you’d choose a do-gooder. You were always the one with the soft heart in the family. Always bringing home strays.”
“He’s not some stray, Dad.”
“That’s not what I’ve heard. I heard he struck out on his own, left the Angale.”
“He thinks for himself and he thinks what they believe is wrong. You can’t fault him for that.”
“All right, all right. You really like him, don’t you?”
“Yeah,” I said softly. “I really like him.”
“He is a gutsy little shit,” my father said, his voice full of amusement. “If he was talking to anyone else I would have applauded the pants comment.”
“So applaud it.”
“But it’s my daughter he had a pants-optional sleepover with.”
“I love you, Dad,” I said, and kissed him on the forehead, “but I’m going to get a few more hours’ sleep.”
“I love you too, kiddo.” He pulled me into one of his fierce hugs.
For the briefest moment, I thought about blurting out everything and telling him about my crazy stalker, that Tolliver was in love with Lisa and I was pretty sure she was in love with him, too, and the entire crazy mess my life had become lately. But he appeared so happy, so content, I couldn’t ruin it. For one, short-lived minute, we were Faith Bettincourt and her father sitting on my couch. And it felt so good, I couldn’t bring it up and watch him shift from being Dad to being the Devil.
Instead, I walked into my bedroom, intent on a few more hours’ sleep before I had to get ready for my lunch date. “I’ve got lunch plans with Matt.”
“And?”
“You either need to be gone by lunchtime or start working on your ability to play nicely in the sandbox with other young men. Understood?”
“Yes, dear.” He swung his legs onto the couch, laying back and pulling up the afghan to his shoulders.
I rolled my eyes at the sight of my father, the Devil, curled up on my ratty blue sofa, cuddling a watermelon throw pillow and lying under a rainbow-striped blanket. “And Dad?”
“Yes?”
“That magical block?”
“What about it?”
“Not cool. I don’t come in your house and mess with your minions, do I?”
“No, dear.” He rolled over, facing the back of the couch, and tried to fake sleep.
“So remove the block.”
“Done.”
“Thank you. I’m only asking you to show a little consideration. Can you do that?” I knew I was pushing it.
“It will be exceedingly difficult.” He let out long-suffering sigh. “But if it makes you happy, consider it a foregone conclusion. For now, at least.”
Chapter Twenty-two
I awoke to the sight of Malachi hovering over me and yelped.
Who knew why I was shocked, really? More often than not, I woke up with some sort of paranormal being nearby. Usually they weren’t close enough to breathe on me, though. If Malachi could breathe, that is. Which he couldn’t, and that made it even creepier.
“I hear our young nephilim friend has declared himself to your father. Brave. Very brave.”
“Shut up,” I said, burying my face in the pillows. Creepy has a short lifespan with me. He’d now moved into annoying territory. “It’s 10:30, and I have two hours before lunch, which gives me another hour to sleep.”
“I can imagine you need it. You’re fairly reeking of sunshine and cookies. What? Did you bathe in it somehow? You know what? Don’t tell me, I don’t want to know.”
“I wouldn’t tell you if you did.” I cuddled with my pillow and squeezed my eyes tight. Was it too much to ask for another hour of sleep? “Go away.”
“I would, but your father ordered me to tell you lunch will be at Primanti Brothers today. He thought it would be best for you to call Matt and let him know the family will be joining the two of you.”
I bolted into a sitting position and stared at the demon floating around my room like a manic dust bunny. “Pardon me?”
“Your father said you will be eating at Primanti Brothers for lunch, because it is his favorite restaurant, and the rest of the family will be joining you.”
“On my lunch date?” I repeated, watching him bouncing around my room. He wouldn’t meet my eyes, and I knew this wasn’t some sort of poorly thought-out joke on his part. They were actually coming to lunch with me. “Dad is hijacking my lunch date?”
“Yes,” Malachi said. He floated to my computer desk and rearranged the papers. “When I asked, he said something about how, if this was a relationship, he felt it was only right for the young man in question to meet your family. Unless said young man has something to hide. And when did this angelic booty call become a relationship? I thought you were done with those? Don’t you think you should have consulted me first? After all, who was it that picked up the pieces the last time you went down this whole relationship road?”
“I am done with those.” Resigned, I fell backward into my pillows. “Well I was. I haven’t really thought about it. I guess a relationship wouldn’t be such a bad thing.”
“Uh-huh, says you,” Malachi said absently. “At least this one didn’t freak out and turn into a gibbering mess when he learned you were a demon. Because I am not looking forward to attempting another memory wipe like the one I tried on the last poor schmuck. It didn’t work and it made me feel all do-gooder-like. And I just can’t handle that clean feeling. The Angale is on his own with his mental demons if he can’t hack it here at Evil Central.”
“Hey,” I said, still defensive about the failure of my last relationship. “That’s not what hap—”
“And he won’t age, so no worries about the whole Growing Old and Dying bit.”
“That’s none of your business.”
“But he is the son of an angel, so there’s always going to be that insufferable compulsion to do good,” Malachi said.
“From what I understand, being a do-gooder isn’t a necessary part of being a nephilim,” I said. “His mother sounds like she should be on our side and not the other way around.”
“Really?” That got Malachai’s attention. “Do you think she is?”
“Think she is what?”
“One of us?”
“Excuse me? One of us?”
“Well, your father did send some demons to infiltrate the Angale. It was years ago and most of them failed, but a few never returned. We always thought they were trapped in the Shadow Lands, left with no power and no way to get out.”
“Wait, wait, you’re telling me there are, or were, demonic spies among the Angale?” I pulled a pillow over my face and thought about trying to smother myself. When had my world become so damn complicated? All I wanted was a week off to watch television and sleep.
“You didn’t know that?”
“Until Matt told me he was an Angale, I didn’t think they actually existed. You knew they did, though.” I filled him in on what Matt had told me about his side of the family.
“If Matt’s mom is evil,” Malachi said, “she might actually be a demonic plant, which would explain why he’s so good at being devious.”
“Or you could be a complete nut who’s taken in by a conspiracy theory?” My life was becoming its own reality television show. Real World: The Paranormal Season. All we needed was a fairy, two werewolves, and a vampire with sexual-identity issues. It’d be a guaranteed a hit.
“Also a possibility. Either way, I’ve done what your father ordered me to do. Your romantic lunch has been canceled for a Let’s Meet the Family one, and now I’m going to get some coffee before I decide wha
t I’m wearing for this little shindig.”
I wondered if he’d wear his Pierce Brosnan getup again. “What you’re wearing?”
Malachi twirled around and, with a great show of drama, let his cowl flare. “You can’t expect me to enjoy the deliciousness of an actual meal in this old thing, can you? No, I was thinking more subtle, but still fabulous.”
“I don’t want to even contemplate.” I closed my eyes and focused on going back to sleep, even though I knew the idea was a bust. “Not until I’ve had a shower and at least one cup of coffee.”
“Fine,” Malachi said. “But you better hurry. Your mother is here, and you know how she is about coffee.”
“She wouldn’t dare.” I jumped out of bed, threw on my bathrobe, and ran into the living room, my bathrobe flaring behind me like a second pair of wings. I wouldn’t put it past my mother to have already started brewing one of her nasty ‘herbal blends’ to replace my lovely, precious coffee. Fucking crackpot.
“Good morning, darling,” my father said, smiling brightly. “Coffee?”
Panting, I glanced at the machine and noticed it held the beautiful, black liquid that was my miraculous, life-affirming Kona Select. I sniffed the air, still not entirely convinced. The only way I could know for sure though was—
“I don’t see how you can drink that swill,” my mother said from the love seat, flipping through a gossip magazine.
Yep. Definitely Kona Select.
“It’s horrible for your body. All those chemicals. Do you know that when you die, your body won’t decompose? Coffee prevents your body from returning to Gaia like it’s supposed to, because you’re embalming yourself before you die.”
Beside the point, seeing how I wouldn’t die, let alone decompose. Not that I wanted to get into that conversation first thing in the morning.
I made my way into the kitchen, poured myself a cup, and added the barest hint of milk and sugar. If we were dealing with Mom’s crazy-person lecture on the chemicals, we were both going to need caffeine. Lots of it. “Dad?”
He nodded. “Yes, please, darling. Did Malachi tell you about my decision?”
“He did.” I grabbed a second cup and filled it with coffee. “Black, or cream and sugar? And don’t you think you should have asked my opinion first?”
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