Lesya grimaced at me in the way of all children who hear those words. We're so anxious to grow up, and then when we get here, we wish we could go back.
“Come on, Zariel must be missing you,” I said.
Lesya's expression lightened, and she started bouncing—her signal that she wanted to be put down—as we reached her friend's door. I set her on her feet, and she knocked on the door with her tiny fist. It tore at my heart; Lesya was barely over a year old and she stood there like a proper little girl, waiting for her knock to be answered. We'd already taken her on her first hunt; a process which made complete sense to my lioness while simultaneously making the human in me wince. I'm an animal lover—always have been—but in order to properly care for the beast inside me, I had to hunt other animals. Circle of life and all that. At least the animals we hunted were ones made from my territory magic so I could console myself that they weren't real.
And no; in case you were wondering, I have never been a vegetarian. I'm a huge hypocrite who loves to eat meat but hates the idea of killing an animal. Gods bless America for making it possible for people like me to enjoy a good steak. But now, it seemed that karma had caught up with me and made me a hunter; at times, a vicious hunter—bloodthirsty even. I pushed that thought away as the door opened, and Zariel smiled brilliantly at my daughter.
“Lesya!” Zariel cried and hugged Lesya as if they hadn't just seen each other that morning.
At four-years-old, Zariel looked as if she were five. She was a stunning child with a wild mane of loose black curls, coffee-colored skin—heavy on the cream thanks to her mother, and her father's amazing hazel eyes. The accelerated lion growth peaked at around three-years but seemed to add just a little extra that kept the child ahead of humans its own age. Human children Zariel and Lesya's ages wouldn't normally make the best playmates, but with Lesya's advancements and Zariel's plateau, it worked out. Well, that and the fact that they were the only children in the Pride. Necessity wasn't just the mother of invention.
Zariel took Lesya's hand and they ran off together; leaving the door open. I followed the beautiful pair of toddlers through a homey apartment done in an eclectic mix of Norse and African décor. There were animal skins laid over tribal rugs, Viking shields hung beside wooden masks, and the heavy wood furniture was upholstered with Kente cloth with accent pillows that had wolves printed on them.
I found Samantha with Fallon at their normal-sized dining table; having a similar meal to what was downstairs. I assumed it had either been brought up for them or Fallon had gone down and made them plates.
“Hey,” I said. “Is this all right?” I waved toward Lesya and Zariel.
“How many times do I have to tell you to just drop her off and run?” Samantha asked with a smile and a shake of her head. “It's fine, V; I'm happy to have someone to entertain Zariel.”
“Did you find out anything from the Lwa?” Fallon asked.
“We have a possible answer to how the exorcist managed to”—I paused when I saw the girls' interested stares on me—“do what he did.”
“Good,” Fallon said. “I'll head down with you so I can hear about it.”
Fallon leaned over and kissed his wife before he collected their dishes and took them to the sink. He rinsed them off and stuck them in the dishwasher as I said goodbye to Samantha and the children. What a good guy; I loved that Fallon didn't expect Sam to do all the chores.
We headed back down to the dining hall as I filled Fallon in on what Samedi and Brigitte had said. I figured that Azrael would have already gotten through his report by the time we got there. Sure enough, we arrived in the middle of the God Squad's reaction to the news.
“I'm sorry, Az, but I think Odin's right,” Trevor said. “It sounds like Samael.”
“Another death god named Sam,” I muttered to myself.
“Hey,” Fallon huffed. “Watch how you throw that name around.”
I chuckled. “I hadn't thought of that.”
“That my wife shares the name of two death deities?” Fallon asked with a lifted brow. “It doesn't really surprise me.”
“You defend her and then insult her,” I pointed out.
“That's marriage.” Fallon shrugged with a smile that expressed what a wonderful marriage he had.
I shook my head as I went to sit beside Kirill. “What's this about Samael?” I asked him.
“Zey say exorcist has dark looks and speaks like angel,” Kirill whispered. “Add soul-severing ability and it sounds like Samael.”
“It's not him,” Azrael said as if he'd already said it numerous times.
I started to pick at Kirill's leftovers, and he slid his plate over to me with a grin. It was a shifter thing; they loved giving their mates food. It was also why I thought nothing of eating off his plate. I would have done it with Trevor too, but none of my other husbands; not without asking first—despite the fact that they probably wouldn't have minded.
“Back me up, Vervain,” Azrael said.
I looked up in surprise—my mouth full of barbecue—and hastily swallowed as I considered it. Azrael scowled at me as I came to the same conclusion that Odin had; Samael looked guilty. No; I didn't say it out loud, but I don't have a
