by Angie Fox
Of course not. The Earl would keep it for himself.
I studied him, from his pointed features to the sharp tilt of his shoulders. "Were you ever an angelic angel?" I really wanted to know.
He gave a quick shrug. "Why are we even talking about this?" He raised his empty drink and rattled the ice cubes. "Waitress?" he called to a server placing down salads several tables away. "Can I get another one of these?"
"I just want to know more about you," I told him. It was the God's honest truth. I may never have this opportunity again.
He looked as if he had just tasted something bad. "Of all the… See? This is why I didn't have kids."
I kept my face neutral. "You have a kid," I said slowly. "I'm right here."
"Naturally." He waved me off. "Bad choice of words. Do you want a salad?" He motioned for the waitress. "Two salads!"
His behavior was exceedingly odd, even for LA. That's when I noticed his hands were shaking. He was nervous. He fingered his collar, as if it were choking him. "I'm glad you're here," he said, with enough directness that I at least wanted to believe him. "I'm glad your mother's not," he added, shrugging. "I'm not good at these kinds of things."
Clearly.
But as long as we were making random, uncomfortable revelations. "I have angel powers," I told him.
If he'd had a drink, he would have spit it out. "You're only half angel."
"I'm aware." What I didn't know is if I was unusual. It seemed like I was.
He leaned forward, ignoring the waitress as she slipped another drink in front of him.
She smiled at me. "Would you like anything?"
"The water and the salad are fine," I told her. Normally, I'd feel cheated if I didn't have more, but as things stood, I doubted I'd be able to choke much down.
When she'd gone, Dad leaned in close. "Tell me about your powers."
Like I'd give him or the Earl that advantage. "I can focus on goodness and shove away darkness," I said. The Earl already knew that.
Dad shook his head. "I can't even do that anymore." He hesitated before he asked, "Can you shoot bursts of power?"
Yes, but I wasn't telling him that.
"I'll have to try it," I said.
He studied me, as if he could decipher my added powers just by looking at me. "You're good at relating to people. It's easy for you to get them to like you."
Ha. "No, I'm not." I was pretty awkward, in fact.
He didn't buy it. "You had Mimi snowed." He leaned back, sipping at his drink. "Angel powers are good for helping you commune with the power of the universe. Everything you do has that added kick." He set his drink between us. "Even I still have that."
"For the good of mankind?" I asked, just to be a jerk. I couldn't help it. It ticked me off that he been born with the powers of the universe and he'd squandered them.
The waitress returned and placed Caesar salads in front of us. "Enjoy," she said.
I didn't respond. I was too caught up in my dad.
"There's no 'good of mankind,'" he said, ignoring how close our server was. "None of it matters. Angels are a race, just like any other. We can use our powers however we see fit." He leaned closer, but didn't bother to lower his voice. "Take the werewolves. They have supernatural speed and strength. They can use it for whatever they want. You don't take a wolf and say, this one is a 'fallen wolf' just because it uses its power to serve its own interests."
He speared his salad, as if he'd won the argument.
I looked to the table next to us. The two women had started to stare. "Movie treatment," I told them.
They nodded and relaxed.
Geez Louise.
I had to make my move. I forked a crouton, smashing it to bits, as I tried to act as if I were just asking a conversational question. I buried it under a pile of lettuce. "So if I help you and gain a little power from the Earl, that doesn't mean I'm bad." I shoved a fork full of lettuce into my mouth, not even tasting it.
Dad, on the other hand, was suddenly hard to read. "Of course it doesn't mean anything bad. It means you're smart."
Right. I took an extra big bite of salad, trying to think of what I needed to say next. I had to make it clear I was willing to work with him. I had to do a complete one-eighty from yesterday and make it believable. I needed a solid reason, a way to twist the truth just enough for him to believe it.
I swallowed the lump of lettuce and felt it travel like a rock down my throat. "We did a biker witch ceremony this morning."
"I knew it!" His fork clattered on his plate. "I could feel the power on you the minute you sat down."
Holy Hades. He was elated. Vindicated. I couldn't have predicted that.
I pushed forward. "I saw the Earl. He was captivating."
Dad was antsy now. "Did he reach out to you? Were you paying attention?"
"Yes," I said quickly. "And I felt different afterward. I liked it," I lied. "He's beautiful."
A grin split Dad's features. "He's special. Magnetic."
I went all-in. "You said he was only taking the bad energy out of people's lives." I glanced out at the street as the biker witches rumbled past again. "I admit, I felt better after seeing him. That's why Grandma and the girls are worried." I looked to the street again, as if they were going to barge right into the restaurant and haul me away. I focused on Dad once more, locked eyes with him, and sold it for all it was worth. "They're afraid I'll team up with you."
He forced his grin away as much as he could and steepled his fingers between us. "Let me ask you one simple question." He asked it as if he were truly concerned for my personal welfare and salvation. "What has your side ever given you?"
I had to pull back or I'd make it too easy. I leaned away, frowned. "I'm not sure what you mean."
He pressed forward. "Demon slaying," he said, as if it were a profession like teaching or fixing cars. "What has it ever earned you?"
Self-respect. Focus. Friends. Love. The knowledge that I was doing the right thing. I'd saved souls. Vanquished demons. Saved the world. I was one of the good guys.
I nodded slowly. "I see your point. "But"—and here was the kicker—"what can the Earl give me?"
Dad seemed impressed by my display of greed. "He can give you wealth, respect. Look at me. I'm a pastor now. I have control over my own life. And others." He grabbed for his drink. "Want me to show you?"
Yes and no.
But the most important question was, "How?"
Dad rapped his knuckles on the table. "We'll do a power meld. Right here, right now."
I glanced around jungle-themed restaurant, at the other diners.
"Here?"
He grinned at me.
"What's the catch?" I asked.
"None," he said, acting like Mr. Innocent. "I'm your father."
He should have known better than to make that argument.
"You've already said you don't trust me." And I sure as hell didn't trust him.
"Right," he said, tamping down his enthusiasm. "This way, you can see some of the benefits of working with me, and I know you're not going to do anything foolish."
Like slaying his boss.
"I see your point," I said.
There was no bullshit now, no lines. "It's the only way I can let you back in the church," he said, "or work with you at all."
So there we had it: out on the table.
I didn't even know the implications of binding part of myself to my dad. I assumed I was stronger than him, but I didn't know that for a fact. It scared me.
And then there were the issues with Earl. Dad was tied in with his power.
It was a risk. A frightening one. But what were the risks if I didn't do it?
The Earl would keep growing stronger and I'd be locked out, unable to do anything about it.
If I gave a little, something manageable, something enough for Dad to trust me, I could make this work. I could get on the inside of their operation.
If I dared.
"Well?" my dad asked, as
if the answer were simple.
If I did it, I'd be like a double agent. I'd have my people on the outside and I'd work from the inside. It wouldn't be fun, or easy. But we'd decided this morning—it was something I had to do.
He raised his brows, waiting.
I should have known Dad would want more than a conversation, a pledge of loyalty. He wanted proof.
Sacrifice yourself. It was one of the Three Truths of the Demon Slayers. Not my favorite one, to be honest.
I scrubbed a hand over my chin. "What's involved?" I had to make sure I did it right, that I didn't give too much away or bind myself too intricately to my dad and the Earl.
Close enough to make friends, not so close he'd steal my power or make it impossible for me to escape.
If their ceremony were anything like the Red Skulls', I'd have to deal with candlelit rituals and maybe a goat head or two. The Earl even had the one that my Great-Aunt Evie had passed down to me. It had flown out of our grip at the Seer's Ceremony this morning. I thought I'd never see it again. Now I wasn't so sure.
"It's nothing big," Dad said, as the waitress stopped by to refill our water glasses. I let her take my salad as well. I wasn't hungry anymore. Dad let her take his plate too, and when she left, he leaned across the table, hands clasped. "You'll find this path is much easier than the one you chose before."
I felt my heartbeat speed up at his words, and saw the gleam of pure evil in his eyes.
He took one final sip of his drink. "All you have to do is ask for it."
Chapter Eighteen
I should have known. Wasn't darkness always the easier road to travel? It was hard to seek goodness, truth, light, and all too simple to throw it away.
A trickle of fear ran down my neck.
The dark path was slippery as well.
But I wouldn't go far. I could rein this in. I'd been touched by serious evil before and had survived. I steeled myself, as if by sheer will alone I would make it okay. Part of my job included this dance with the devil. Of course this devil happened to be my father, but I couldn't help that. I could only try to use it to my advantage.
I'd never get this chance again.
"Lizzie?" He leaned forward, his slick black hair catching the light, his pointed nose lowered as he closed even more of the distance between us. "This is what you came for, isn't it?"
Yes.
But I hadn't planned to go this deep.
"This is a commitment," I told him. One I wasn't sure I could take back.
But every minute I wavered, each second I took to decide, made me suspect in his eyes. I could see it in him as plain as I could feel the indecision swirling through me.
Time to make the choice.
I could walk away, thereby ensuring nothing would change. In doing so, I would protect myself and my view on how things should be done. I'd be whole, pure, and completely unable to help as I watched others succumb to the Earl and his church. Or I could take a risk, open myself up, and save those poor souls who would have no one else to stand up for them. I'd have to give something of myself to make things right.
But wasn't that true of anything worthwhile?
I had to believe it was worth the risk. I had to.
"Let's do it," I said, before I changed my mind.
My dad broke out into a big grin. His winning smile.
Dimitri would have puppies when I told him.
Don't think about it.
That was also part of the sacrifice. He'd come around. He understood my job, my calling. And he loved me without question.
"Are you ready?" Dad asked, reaching out to me.
"Yes," I said, joining my hands with his. That alone made my stomach turn.
I cleared my mind of second thoughts. They wouldn't help. It was done.
Dad's eyes shone with an emotion I couldn't name. It didn't matter. It could have been excitement, greed, or dark religious fervor for all I cared. I let go of that and focused on the task at hand. I wasn't doing this for him. I was doing it for the good of mankind.
His grip was solid, chilly. "Ask," he said, rubbing his thumb along the top of my hand, the way he would if he were comforting a child.
I swallowed.
Keep it together. I needed to bind only enough of myself to my father that he'd trust me, and so that I could influence what went on in his church.
I closed my eyes and called out to the power roiling inside me. It responded immediately. I teased out the essence of who I was, the white-hot strength of my demon slayer side. I held it up, ready, as I focused once again on the world outside me. I looked my father straight in the eyes and spoke. "I ask," I said clearly, with no hesitation, no doubt. "I ask to meld a part of myself with you." The moment the words left me, I felt a deep pull, like an unbelievingly powerful wrenching on the door of my soul.
I'd never felt anything like it before.
I could do this.
I blew out a breath and forced myself to relax while I opened the door inside my soul barely a crack. Just enough to see what lingered on the other side. I reached out with my true self and felt the seeping frigid pull of my father's power—and no doubt, the Earl of Hell's as well.
And while I expected needles of pain, an icy blast, I only felt an invigorating presence. It cleared my head and made me sit taller.
It was hard to understand, even harder to explain. But I felt like I stood under a waterfall on a hot day, letting the cool, refreshing water wash over me.
There was none of the darkness or fear. No icy coldness of hell somehow marking me. "I don't understand," I said to my father.
"There's more," he said, as if he were giving me an exciting gift.
"No doubt." Of course I knew better than to think that was the sum of it. I pulled back. "I think we've done enough."
Less was more in this case. I could always go back for seconds. As it stood, I felt great. It wasn't a dramatic shift, nothing that a good hair day and the perfect outfit couldn't conjure up in me, but still, I could see the appeal.
Even better, I was in control. In fact, I felt more confident, stronger than I had going into this. If this panned out, Dad might actually be able to help me.
"You're radiant," he said, as excited as I felt. Dad seemed to glow with an inner fire as well. "You like it?"
As if he didn't know the answer. I shouldn't. I really shouldn't. But… "Give me a little more."
This time, the force at the door pulled harder than before. I let it swing open an inch. Frigid air rushed in like a fall breeze after the blistering heat of summer. Amazing. I soaked it in, letting it wash over me. It felt good. Really good. I felt powerful.
Ever since the fenris showed up on my beach, I'd been operating under a steady thrum of fear. I'd felt a lack of control and the pain that comes from not knowing. Now I could see the answers so much clearer.
I could recognize things for what they were. Yes, we had a crisis, but I certainly had the power and the experience to face the Earl. I'd gotten what I could from the witches and now from my father. And if I could make it through the Earl's defenses…
I couldn't help but smile. It was time to strike.
Dad squeezed my hands. "Why are you smiling?"
I'd almost forgotten he was there.
"I think you need more," he said, half teasing, leaving it out there for me to grasp.
I slipped my hands from his. "I'm good."
The power exchange was complete. He'd marked me and he'd entered my realm as well. He'd seeped into my consciousness. I could feel him now, as I would a good friend. Or a father. A real father.
"Is it always this way?" I asked. Asking seemed too simple for what had just happened to me.
He held open his hands, palms out. "It's beautiful, isn't it?"
"I don't know what it is." My body sang with it.
Maybe I'd needed a touch of darkness in order to see the light.
I sat back and enjoyed the subtle energy of the restaurant. When I'd walked in here, I'd felt les
s, just because of my unfortunate white skirt and barely there top. It was the story of my life. I'd always felt slightly awkward. Even with friends sometimes. Like I didn't fit in. Either I didn't know what to say, or I wasn't sure what to do in a social situation. I was never the one who had the answers. And now?
None of it mattered. I was fine the way I was. I was perfect.
The waitress left us our bill and I slid it over to Dad. He'd asked me here. He could pay.
I wasn't naive. I knew Dad had tried to corrupt me. But I could only think that it had backfired on him in the worst possible way.
If I could control this, use this, I could not only make a difference for the people of Dad's messed-up church, I could be a different kind of slayer. A better one. With more confidence, more trust in my sixth sense, I might be able to anticipate attacks before they happened or even prevent tragedies like the one we were facing. I wouldn't be as afraid. I'd have the answers. I'd be so much more powerful.
It warmed me to think about it and a rightness settled in my chest that I'd never felt before.
And all I'd had to do was ask.
Meanwhile, Dad placed cash for both of us in the black bill folder.
I was eager to test this further. "So you need me to take care of some things at the church." I wanted to see if I could get past the wards in the basement. After that, we'd play it by ear.
Dad pushed his chair back and stood. "I've created a monster."
"Now's as good a time as any," I said, joining him. "I've proven myself to you. You might as well get me up to speed and start using me. You said you needed me."
He shook his head, amused. "I do. But you sucked a little more from me than I'd planned," he said as we walked out.
"No kidding?" I hadn't noticed. Fear pricked the back of my neck. There was no way I'd reached too far beyond the door. Had I?
I would have noticed. My prior experience with dark forces involved icy blasts and debilitating power. This was nice.
Dad used his hand on a chair back as we wove in between empty tables. It appeared we'd outlasted the lunch crowd. "You caught me in the middle of a renovation. Seeing as you blasted the tomb yesterday."