There was no place for me to sit—she and Dad were taking up the only two chairs. I hitched a hip against a table set against the wall and crossed my arms over my chest. “Okay. What did you want to talk about?”
“Any number of things,” Myrial said unhelpfully. “However, the most important topic centers around your mother. How much do you know about her, really?”
“Not nearly as much as I thought I did when I was growing up, as it turns out,” I replied in a dry tone. “Though I’ve been filling in the gaps more recently.”
The demon nodded. “You might be wondering why I asked you about her maiden name, when we spoke in St. Louis.”
I hadn’t been, particularly. In point of fact, I’d been a bit more concerned with the people shooting at us at the time. Looking back, though, it did seem a rather odd choice of question under the circumstances.
“Okay,” I said. “I’ll bite. Why did you ask me about my mother’s maiden name?”
Myrial rose, and it occurred to me that she’d kept her human-like form even though we were in Hell. Now, though, instead of high fashion, she wore a loose tunic and trousers with sandals.
“I asked because I needed to be sure,” she said... and just like that, her form shifted before my eyes.
I blinked, because all of the sudden I was looking at Grandpa Hawkins. The one who’d disappeared, leaving my mentally ill grandmother alone with a new baby. A half-demon baby. Because my maternal grandfather... had been an incubus.
Holy fuck.
“No,” I said stupidly, staring at a face that looked like it had stepped straight out of family photos from fifty years ago.
I hadn’t seen the resemblance before, and I should have. The figure in front of me was nothing more than a male version of the woman I’d been talking to moments before. Chestnut hair, dark brown eyes, average height, average build. The sharp bone structure that placed Myrial’s female form on the striking end of the spectrum rather than the classically beautiful one, now translated into hawkishly attractive male features.
I pushed away from the table, feeling my hands clench into fists at my sides.
“You did this,” I accused. “All of this. You’re responsible for everything that’s happened to my family in the last five decades.”
“Hardly everything,” said my grandfather, his gaze turning back to my father. “I think the Fae bear some responsibility for things, too—don’t you?”
But I didn’t want to talk about the Fae right now.
“Why?” I demanded. “Why would you come into my grandmother’s life, stomp all over the Fae treaty, and then just... leave?” I gestured angrily, my arm encompassing both Dad and myself.
Myrial regarded me steadily. “I did what I did because I was in love with a human.”
“Bullshit!” I flared. “You left Grandma a broken mess. She was a white woman whose white husband left her, immediately after she gave birth to a mixed race baby! Do you have any idea what kind of consequences that had for her? She committed suicide when I was thirteen!”
“I know she did.” Myrial’s brows drew together as though my words pained him. “It’s true I didn’t understand the implications of getting DNA from a man with a different skin color. But the only reason I left Joan was because if I’d stayed, my presence would have killed her before much longer. She was giving me too much of her animus. She couldn’t feed me while also providing for a cambion infant.”
I gaped at him. “You mean my mother was draining Grandma, too?”
Myrial gave me a grim smile. “It’s what incubi and succubi do, as you’re no doubt beginning to learn.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. Hard. “This is insane.”
A hoarse whisper sliced through the tension. “You...”
The word didn’t come from Myrial. I dropped my hand and whirled toward my father. He was frowning absently, looking up at Myrial, who still stood a few steps in front of him.
“Dad?” I was on the floor, crouching in front of him in a blink.
He continued to look past me, staring at Myrial as though trying to figure out a puzzle. I gently cupped his chin, tilting his head down so he was looking at me instead. His frown deepened.
“Tha’s not right,” he slurred. “Can’t both be here.” His hazel eyes flitted between my face and the demon behind me several times, then started to lose focus again. “Dreaming...” he murmured, before slipping back into his fugue state.
“Dad!” I gave his shoulder a sharp shake, but it was too late. He was gone again.
I slumped forward, resting my forehead against my father’s knee.
“Zorah—” Myrial began, but I cut him off.
“No. Stop talking. In fact, I think you should leave. I can’t do this right now. Come back later.”
Or don’t, I silently added, because I’m really not sure how much more of this shit I can take.
But Myrial wasn’t done. “I might be able to help your father. He obviously recognizes both of us, so his mind isn’t completely gone. If I bound him to me, I could send him healing energy—”
“Leave,” I said. “I told you I’m not having this conversation right now.”
“I can see that you’re upset,” Myrial tried.
I turned my puffy, tear-stained face toward him. “You fucking think? Yes, I’m upset! So please... get... out.”
Myrial frowned, and a moment later I was alone in the hut with my father as the demon disappeared between one heartbeat and the next. I turned back to the man who had raised me, giving him another small shake.
“Dad?” I asked.
There was no response.
NINETEEN
I HADN’T BEEN kidding when I said I wasn’t up to dealing with this new revelation on top of everything else. Not sure what else to do, I did my best to put it out of my mind. Instead, I focused on the fact that my father had shown a flash of relative
