CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
'WHERE IS SHE?'
'What the hell did you do with her?'
Reyes was slumped in a chair in the entertainment room, a glass of ambrosia-laced brandy in his hand. Danika's mother and sister stood in front of the television where homemade movies of Danika as a child played. Her grandmother sat beside him, her cast-clad legs outstretched.
He'd had Lucien fetch the movies three days ago and had not left the chair since. Right now, they were his only link to Danika and, hopefully, his key to finding her.
Footsteps. A slap across his cheek. He fingered his jaw, but for once he was too numb to enjoy the pain.
'Talk to us!' the sister demanded.
'Please,' the mother begged. 'Fight your evil side and help us.'
'Leave him alone,' the grandmother told them, patting his hand. 'I used to see demons in my dreams, and this man is no demon. He loves our girl and is doing everything in his power to bring her back.'
Was he? He felt as if he should be doing more. But what, he didn't know. 'If I knew where she was, she would have been rescued by now,' he finally answered. 'I failed her. There. Does that make you feel better?'
Silence.
'Well, get her back!' Tinka, the mother, shouted.
'I don't know how.' The admission was painful, so painful, and not in a good way.
Five days had passed since Danika had vanished. In those five days, Aeron had regained consciousness, his need to kill completely gone, as if it had never been a part of him. He'd apologized—
They'd embraced, and Legion, who was never far from Aeron's side, had cheered. But Reyes's sense of loss had not faded. He had summoned the gods over and over, praying, begging, all to no avail.
He didn't know what else to do.
Tinka and Ginger, the sister, began pacing and muttering in front of him. Every so often, he could see the TV. He thought he heard a young Danika laughing.
'Who took her?' one asked.
'I heard one of the monsters—uh,
'If Danika saw the heavens, she's in the heavens,' the grandmother said. 'Trust me. I know.'
'Okay, then. Let's pretend the warrior was right and the gods took her.
'Probably because she is a portal.' He refused to use the word
All three women stopped and eyed him sharply. 'What are you talking about? What kind of portal?'
He explained, trying to hold back his tears. Pain was close to whimpering inside his head. On the screen, Danika laughed again. What was she doing? He leaned to the side. She was blowing out birthday candles. He imagined a child of hers—of
'My baby was a portal between—'
'Is,' he and the demon growled in unison. '
'That's just not possible,' Tinka said. Then she held up her hands. 'She's alive, that's not what I meant. I just…It's too hard to believe she was some kind of gateway between heaven and hell.'
'You've seen wings pop out of a man's back, daughter,' the grandmother said staunchly. 'Believe it.'
'But how could I not have known?' Tinka whispered brokenly. 'How could I have missed something like that?'
'Her dreams,' Reyes said. 'It was always her dreams.'
'I was once just like her.' Mallory uttered a sad little sigh. 'First time I saw one of her paintings, I nearly fainted. I was frightened for her, I admit, and didn't know what to do. Had I not fought my own visions so terribly, I might have realized what was going on and might have been able to help her cope.'
'You did help her. The stories you told her gave her the strength and courage to face her nightmares rather than run from them.' His eyes burned and he rubbed them with the back of his wrist.
Mallory squeezed his hand.
Tinka's pacing renewed. Again, Reyes was given a momentary glimpse of the TV screen. There was a blur as the camera stopped rolling and picked up on another date. In this one, Danika was probably eleven years old and painting. She was covered in the stuff, a living rainbow.
He felt closer to her like this. He could not, would not, give her up. Had begged Anya for a miracle, like the one she'd performed for Maddox and Ashlyn. She'd tried to help him, but had failed. He'd even asked his friends to take his head and end this torment. They'd refused. In the end, he'd been a bit relieved, knowing his soul would go to hell, placing him only farther away from Danika.
Somehow, someway, she was in heaven. Alive—he would not believe otherwise, ever—but there all the same.
If he had to earn his way there, he would do it. They
Ginger and Tinka seemed to have forgotten his presence as they continued to pace and talk.
'The man does seem to love her.'
'
'Demons.'
'Yes. The very demons Danika used to paint.'
'But he cried when she disappeared.'
'He sobbed, actually.'
'If anyone can bring her home, it's him.'
He listened vaguely, still drinking in those flickering visions of little Danika. Even then she'd been an angel, full of light and hope for the future.
'Are you listening to me?' Ginger stood in front of him, hands anchored on her hips. She was taller than Danika, even thinner. Pretty, but she was not his angel.
'No,' he said. 'Move.'
Tinka joined her daughter, linking their arms. 'There has to be something else you can try.'
'Bring her back,' Ginger said, 'and we'll stop trying to convince her to leave you.'
'Not that it did any good. She wanted you in her…in her…' Tinka sobbed. 'In her life.'
The two women embraced. Reyes's chest ached.
Pain took no notice.