“Right,” he said, “what brings you both here? You had to know how dangerous it would be.”
Dad’s eyes narrowed as they took in Rans’ black-clad figure. With a faint jolt, I realized that not only had they never met before—I’d never so much as mentioned Rans’ existence to my father. For weeks, I’d lived with Dad in the titheling village in Hell, talking to him—or rather, at him—about everything and nothing, as I tried to draw him out after the trauma he’d undergone in Dhuinne. But I’d been so heartbroken at the time that I hadn’t dared to crack open the dam holding back my emotions regarding Rans.
It said a lot about my relationship with my father that rather than feeling like he was a safe haven to discuss my grief over my choice to leave Rans behind on Earth, I’d felt the need to protect that part of myself from him. And that had been when Dad was only a couple of steps up the evolutionary ladder from being a mental vegetable. Now that he seemed to be mostly back to his old self—
Well.
Let’s just say, the next couple of minutes were likely to be... interesting.
“Who are you?” my dad demanded, scowling.
Rans regarded him coolly. “I’m the vampire who’s been trying to keep your daughter alive, Darryl Bright. Unfortunately, I suffered something of a setback in that regard quite recently—but on the positive side, she did get better afterward.”
I winced silently.
Dad blinked at him. “The... vampire... who...?” He shook his head as though trying to jar something loose. “What on Earth are you talking about?”
Edward cleared his throat. “Yes, I’m afraid I may have left some details out during our various discussions, Darryl—”
Dad’s gaze moved from Rans, to Edward, to me. “But... vampires don’t exist!” he blurted.
I winced again.
“No?” Rans drawled, drawing my father’s gaze back to him.
His piercing eyes kindled with their unearthly, glacier blue glow, and he curled his lip, revealing a flash of fang. My dad took an involuntary step backward. The sofa behind him cut him off at the knees, and he half-fell into it. Fortunately, the damaged frame creaked, but held.
“How—” he choked out, still staring at Rans.
Somehow, we seemed to be straying quite a distance from the all-important answer to the original ‘What the ever-loving fuck were you thinking’ question.
“Dad,” I said, taking matters into my own hands, “this is Ransley Thorpe, my seven-hundred-year-old vampire lover who recently turned me into a vampire as well, in order to save my life. Rans, Darryl Bright. My dad, who apparently thought it was a brilliant plan to bind himself to a demon after I expressly told him not to, goddamnit!”
The words rose in pitch and volume as I worked up a full head of steam.
“Good heavens,” Edward said, looking alarmed. “You’re a vampire now, miss? That rather complicates matters.”
“Okay,” I bit out. “Look. If everyone could just stop talking about things not related to why the hell my dad sold his soul to come here from... well... Hell—that would be awesome.”
Dad was still staring at me like I’d stepped on a fluffy baby kitten and snapped its neck right in front of him. But at least he dragged himself together enough to actually answer.
“I told you—I needed to warn you, Zorah. That creature who seduced Sasha’s mother is planning to come here and kill you!”
“You mean Myrial?” I asked, just to confirm. “The one you knew as Grandpa Hawkins?”
Dad’s eyes went hard. “Yes. The one who—” he paused and swallowed. “Who attacked Edward. He came back to the cottage a couple of days ago and... did something. Edward passed out, and then the demon bastard backed me against a wall and told me in great detail how he planned to come here and do the same thing to you that he’d done to Edward before. I knew I had to get out of Hell and warn you.”
My eyes flew to the aging butler, who looked unhappy.
“I’m afraid that as bodyguards go, I’ve not done a very good job of keeping my end up, miss,” Edward said apologetically. “I do apologize for that.”
I closed my eyes and squeezed the bridge of my nose between my thumb and forefinger.
“Against demons, I’m afraid it was never a very fair fight to begin with, Edward,” Rans said.
My hand fell back to my side. “Yeah, what Rans said. Dad’s still alive, so you certainly could have done worse.”
“That being the case,” Rans went on, “Myrial’s murderous intentions toward us still aren’t exactly breaking news, I’m sorry to say.”
Dad frowned. “He didn’t say anything about you. Just Zorah.”
I blew out a sigh. “Doesn’t matter—it was implied. We’re kind of a package deal, now.”
His eyes fell on me.
“Yeah,” I continued, “so, you know how you thought it would be a great plan to bind your soul to a demon’s? Well, my soul’s bound to Rans’ soul in pretty much the same way. Except, demons are immortal and he’s not, so when I kick the proverbial bucket, I’ll be dragging him along with me for the ride.”
“Or vice versa,” Rans added helpfully.
Dad’s face went blank, signifying that I’d managed to initiate a catastrophic hard drive crash by dumping one too many crazy-ass things on him in too short a time. I turned back to Edward, so he could have a few moments to hopefully process everything.
“You, though. I’m still not clear on why you stood by and let him do something so stupid,” I accused, aware that I was basically calling Edward stupid as well. He, too, had decided at some point to bind himself to a demon, but right now I was still too angry to feel bad about the backhanded insult I’d just hurled at him. “You could have just come here on your own to deliver the earth-shattering news that Myrial doesn’t like me.”
Edward’s rheumy
