Ransley Thorpe—seven-hundred-year-old vampire and part-time white knight with a martyr complex—looked up at his demon mentor. He remained relaxed in his chair, still wearing a mild expression. But there was a dangerous glint hiding behind his icy blue eyes.
“People keep asking me that,” he said in his precise English accent. “And I keep wondering why something that seems so obvious to me appears to be utterly opaque to everyone else.”
Rans and I had arrived at Nigellus’ home some fifteen minutes ago, luggage in hand. Admittedly, that had been pretty brazen of us, since we hadn’t even called ahead to warn him we were coming. Also, there was the small issue of Rans having stolen a rare and powerful magical artifact from this house on his previous visit. All in all, I could understand Nigellus’ frustration.
Hell... a part of me even shared it.
Not so long ago, I’d snuck away from Rans and followed my kidnapped father to the Fae world of Dhuinne, in hopes of protecting both of them. The Fae were after me because of my hybrid parentage, and I was tired of other people being in constant danger simply because of their association with me.
At the time, I’d understood that going to the Fae realm put my life at serious risk, but I chose to do it anyway. Whether it had been a good choice or a bad one was still something of an open question, but Rans had rendered it moot by coming after me and hauling me back by the scruff of the neck.
Maybe most women would find the idea of him swooping into the Fae Court like a dark, avenging angel romantic. And it was undeniably true that by doing so, he’d saved me from execution. Yet I still found his eleventh-hour rescue stomach churning, more than anything, because of what had happened next.
“Your actions have moved beyond recklessness and into blatant self-destruction. You bound your life to a mortal’s!” Nigellus’ voice resonated like granite boulders grinding together.
I winced.
The magical artifact Rans had stolen the last time he was here was a crystal. Not just any crystal, mind you, but a crystal that allegedly bound two people together so tightly that the death of one would instantly cause the death of the other. Working on what could only be called a hunch, Rans had barged into the Fae Court and bound his life to mine in the presence of a collection of the most powerful Fae in Dhuinne.
He was the last vampire in existence, after a magical weapon destroyed the rest of his race during the war between demons and Fae. He hadn’t known for certain that his continued survival was one of the treaty provisions that had ended the conflict, but he’d suspected it. Fortunately for both of us, he’d been right. And now that we were bound, his centuries-long life was doomed to end the moment my human one did.
Well, I say human...
“I acted to save a life that is important to me.” Rans still didn’t raise his voice. Neither did the spark of blue flame behind his eyes dim. “And if you’re as smart as I believe you to be, Nigellus, Zorah’s life will become important to you, too.”
I cleared my throat awkwardly.
“So, apparently I’m the only person in the three realms who combines Fae, demonkind, and humanity in a single package,” I said, striving to keep my voice steady. “My father was exchanged for a Fae changeling when he was a baby. He was sent back to Earth not long after, but he’d already absorbed Fae magic during his time on Dhuinne. That may be what allowed him to father a child with my mother, who was half-demon.”
Nigellus’ dark eyes fell on me. His gaze pierced me like a blade, and I stifled a shudder of instinctive reaction to the copper-red glow kindling in their depths. It was the first time I’d seen his otherworldly nature peek through, and the first time I’d gotten a real hint of the power lurking beneath Nigellus’ urbane exterior. It made me realize how little I truly knew about the demon standing in front of us.
But I still needed answers, scary red eyes or no. “And meanwhile,” I continued, “the demons have quietly been collecting human children who have absorbed Fae magic after living in Dhuinne. Are you doing that so you can make more hybrids like me?”
Nigellus was silent for a long moment.
“Answer the question,” Rans said evenly.
After a tense beat, the demon lifted one hand, pinching the bridge of his nose. His eyes squeezed shut, and when he opened them, the hellfire glow had disappeared, subsumed by his normal depthless brown. He straightened from his decidedly predatory stance at the head of the table, pulled out a chair, and sank into it with a single, smooth movement.
“No,” he said. “The demons are not collecting the Tithe from Dhuinne with an eye to making more hybrids like you, Zorah. I don’t believe anyone was aware that second-generation hybrids were even possible.”
I relaxed marginally.
“The Tithe was intended as a way to limit the Fae’s numbers and bring some of them over to Hell’s side through cultural indoctrination,” he continued. “Obviously, the Fae found an immediate way around that by sending us human children that had been replaced by Fae changelings.”
“Ought to have had someone look over the fine print, before your lot signed that dog’s breakfast of a treaty,” Rans muttered.
Nigellus’ expression grew dark. “I assure you, I was not consulted ahead of time regarding the wording of the clause in question.”
But Rans wasn’t ready to let it go. “Oh, yes? One race that specializes in making bargains, and another race that can’t fucking lie. Yet it’s the demons that ended up getting
