“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing, Dax. You think that if I go home, I’ll have a chance to rethink us working together, but you’re wrong. I intend to go with you when you go to The Underworld. I need to understand why I’m drawn to grasp the difference between dark nature and dark intent, and you have been set in my path for a reason. I may not be your type, but damn if I’m not getting under your skin.” With that she turns and walks away, as she is about to trace, she says, “Tomorrow. Eight sharp.” And then she’s gone.
Turning, I announce to no one in particular, “I’m out of here.” I make my way toward the elevator and jab my finger on the call button, the door slides open and as I step in, I hit the garage indicator and wait patiently for the lift to descend to the garage level. She’s right, she’s gotten under my skin and spending any more time with her is just going to solidify that fact. She doesn’t understand why I’m not good for her to be around. Tarron was right to warn me off of her, but damn if I’m more conflicted now than before. Her mother all but shoved me at her daughter. I’m not sure what to think. The drive out of the city will do me some good.
The building Tarron chose for his tavern is on the outskirts of the city, it doesn’t take me long to put it behind me and head further north to my lakeside cabin. It’s secluded and surrounded by trees, and in just under an hour I pull up to the detached garage outside and park my black and silver Ducati inside. Striding to the house, I admire all the colors that this place holds. It’s so different from The Underworld. It’s getting late and the sun is close to setting. The ribbons of color that dance across the water reflecting the sky above has the ability to calm me. The very thought of going back to The Underworld has sat me on edge. I could do without ever stepping foot in that accursed place again.
The door to the cabin slams open, and I jerk my head in that direction, not expecting anyone to be here, only to see my mother step out onto the covered porch. She smiles and asks, “Where have you been, Daxell? We arrived last night.”
“When you say we, I’m assuming that you mean you brought your Fallen lovers with you.” My tone is irritable and cutting.
“Daxell, what has gotten into you? I don’t like the tone that you are taking with me. Your fathers are not just my lovers, we are bound to each other. You know that.” I can see that I’ve hurt her. Her silver-gray eyes bore into me and for a moment I just stare back at her. My mother has an almost elven beauty about her. Her skin is a creamy white, her hair a platinum blond with streaks of silver, her stature is willowy, almost waif-like. Her appearance is the exact opposite of both my father’s. She is the moon that they gravitate about.
Sighing, I relent, “I’m sorry, mother. I’m just in a foul mood and should not be taking it out on you. Are they with you?”
“Yes, they’re here, they’re making dinner. It’s almost ready. What’s bothering you, son?”
Climbing the steps to the landing, I reach my mother and pull her small frame to mine for a long hug. I cradle her close to me and just hold on to her for a moment and whisper, “I am sorry, mother. I know you love them.”
“Why are you always pushing them away? They love you Daxell.” She pulls back to look up at me, her eyes wide and filled with questions and concern.
Gently, I kiss her forehead, and murmur, “Because their DNA makes me half-demon.” Straightening up, I smile at my mother and ask, “What’s for dinner, and why the unexpected visit?”
My mother looks at me pointedly, her chin raised in challenge, “You are a mixture of the best of the three of us. You, my son, are perfect, just the way you are.” Her expression softens, before she takes my face in her hands and whispers, “you are who you are meant to be, and just like with your fathers, I balance them, and that piece of me that you hold within you balances you. Don’t ever forget that.”
I had always ever dwelled on the fact that I was half-demon, and never really gave my other half a thought, until now, and I smile down at my mother, “Thank you for that. Come on inside, let’s see what the two old farts are up to.”
My mother swats me on the arm with a smirk, and says, “Don’t let them hear you say that.”
As we walk into the spacious cabin, from the kitchen, I hear them say in unison, “We heard that.” Both of my fathers are identical in appearance with one minor exception, their eyes. Asmodeus or Dez as he likes to be called has warm chocolate brown eyes with hints of amber, and Leviathan or Levi’s eyes are a startling electric green. The two have a rich mahogany skin tone with hair the color of the deepest night which is kept closely cropped to their heads, same for their beards. Both are standing together in an ultra-modern kitchen surrounded by bowls of Chinese food and are casually attired in jeans and snug-fitting black teeshirts. They look right at home in my little house.
“We didn’t think you were going to make it for dinner. Come on over here and tell us what you have been up to.” Dez motions for me to help with the food. We quickly get everything situated and sit. I dig in, realizing that the last time I ate was with
