No, Mitch wasn’t her brother. Mitch was a super nice guy, and her brother, well…he wasn’t. Enough said.
“He’s my boss.”
“You take the child to a bar?”
Sofia rolled her eyes. “When I pick up my paycheck, yes. Or if we happen to be in the vicinity on my days off, because Mitch and Bebé both adore her.”
“What did Uncle Mitch tell you about warlocks?” Griffin asked, looking to Penelope for an answer.
“They’re bad, bad men. They don’t care about anyone. And they kill witches because witches are the only beings who can keep them in check.”
Griffin glanced at Sofia and shrugged. “That’s a reasonably accurate description.”
Penelope puffed out her chest like he’d just given her a compliment.
“If witches keep the warlocks under control, then where do Daughters of Light come in?” Sofia asked, annoyed by her own curiosity. Although, if this had anything to do with Penelope, then of course she needed to know as much information as possible.
“Normal witches aren’t equipped to protect themselves against warlocks,” Griffin explained. “Even though most of them have comparable magic, witches have consciences, whereas warlocks do not, which gives them a step up in any sort of warfare.”
That damn sense of foreboding had returned.
Griffin continued his story. “If the witch population were decimated, it would throw off the circle of life, I suppose you could say. If witches were destroyed, eventually, so would all of humanity. There would be no balance between the various species. Chaos would ensue. The world would be devastated in a matter of a few generations.”
“Well, that’s morbid,” Sofia muttered.
“In desperation, the leader of the witches and her mate went to the gods and begged for their help.”
“Cool,” Penelope said, her eyes wide as she practically breathed the word.
Griffin nodded. “The witch and her mate offered up their only daughter as a sacrifice to end the war. The gods accepted the daughter and mated her to one of their own. The god and the witch had many daughters, all with extraordinary magic beyond anything the witches or warlocks had ever experienced before.”
“Daughters of Light,” Penelope pronounced, grinning proudly. Sofia eyed her baby’s messy hair and mismatched socks. Was she truly descended from the gods?
“How come I’ve never heard of these demigods before?” Sofia asked.
“You said yourself that you live a reclusive life,” Griffin pointed out. “That aside, however, it is more likely because that first generation of Daughters did their job. They went to war with the warlocks and won. The remaining warlocks retreated to the woods and mountains of Europe and Asia, leaving the witch population to live their lives in peace.”
Oh good. For a moment there, Sofia had been afraid Griffin was about to tell her that her daughter would have to be trained for combat.
“Unfortunately,” Griffin said, “for too many generations, the Daughters of Light were not needed. Their mothers stopped teaching them how to fight. In many cases, they did not even tell their offspring that they were descended from gods. The witches became complacent.”
Uh-oh. Sofia did not like the sound of that.
“Eventually, the blood of the gods became diluted, and the newer generations did not produce as many Daughters of Light. Few have been born over the last couple of decades. And approximately forty years ago, the warlocks realized this. They left their hiding places and began to quietly destroy the Daughters of Light. We are now in danger of repeating the cycle we’d thought broken hundreds of years ago.”
Sofia reached for the coffee carafe. “I’m gonna need more caffeine.”
Chapter Five
Griffin was impressed.
Sofia didn’t panic. She didn’t cry or throw a temper tantrum. She didn’t refuse to believe him. She simply said, “What do we need to do?”
It was resigned, but she wasn’t fighting the inevitable. Yes, she’d become the mother to this child, so of course she intended to protect her at all costs, but she also recognized the need to allow Penelope to be raised as she was meant to be—as a Daughter of Light who would one day go on to safeguard her own species—or die trying.
“Since Oliver sent me here to protect you, I assume he is aware of Penelope’s legacy,” Griffin said.
“That’s why you returned? Because you were told to?”
Oh hell, there was a flicker of disappointment in her eyes before she lowered her lids and cut her gaze to the side. Damn it, he’d said the wrong thing.
Deflect, Griffin, deflect!
“I returned to New Orleans to accept a position with the gargoyle brethren here.”
Wait, how was that deflecting?
“And where do I fit into the picture?”
He recalled that fateful night, four years ago, when he’d lain in bed with Sofia snuggled into his side and he’d thought, We sure do fit perfectly together.
“Well, theoretically, I’m supposed to protect you. And Penelope. But, um…” He scratched his head. “I’m not an expert at taking care of Daughters of Light. That’s not where I’ve focused my, er, gargoyle training. So I’m going to make sure you get the best daughter-protector on Oliver’s crew.”
She canted her head and watched him steadily, her expression unreadable. After a long moment, she said, “What if I don’t want some other protector?”
“Trust me, Sofia. You are better off without me in your life.”
“Am I? I knew nothing about warlocks or Daughters of Light until right now. What if you hadn’t come back? What if a warlock showed up tomorrow? Or next week? Or even after Penelope is an adult? If you hadn’t told us what she is, I never would have done whatever I need to do to ensure she can protect herself.”
She was a remarkable woman, but then again, he’d known that four years ago. That was why he’d left Penelope in her care.
“Okay, yes, I
