“It was roomier... after you wrenched the door off its hinges,” I pointed out reasonably.
“Ah,” he said. “Yes, I suppose that would do it.”
I thought about calling Vonnie, and didn’t. I thought about calling Len, and didn’t do that, either. As evening gave way to night’s darkness, I was debating the merits of dragging Rans back to my bedroom for more sex, if only to keep my circling thoughts from consuming me alive. Of course, that was the moment when a faint shift in the room’s air pressure and a nearly inaudible popping noise had me whirling around, senses on high alert.
Rans rose from the couch, wariness writ large in the tension of his shoulders as he took in the new arrivals. “Nigellus,” he said coolly.
The demon of fate released his grip on Edward and my father before stepping forward. “Ransley. Miss Bright.” His dark eyes played over us, searching. “Edward conveyed your message, obviously. And while I can’t say this is the approach I would personally have suggested, I must nevertheless applaud its audacity.”
I stepped forward, prodding at my feelings regarding Nigellus’ presence here. “I’m not willing to play the role of fugitive for the rest of my life. Confronting Myrial was my idea, though the details of the plan are a joint effort.”
That ancient gaze centered on me, and I made myself hold it. I could tell that he’d taken in my newly undead status in the first instant after his arrival, filing it away for future consideration.
“The line between boldness and recklessness is a fine one, Miss Bright. However, Myrial’s current course of action threatens to destabilize not just a single realm, but all three.”
“Not to mention threatening to butcher the goose who lays your golden blood wine,” I added, unwilling to pretend that I’d forgotten exactly what Nigellus had done to Rans.
His eyebrow rose sharply. “The goose and gander both, as it now appears.”
“I’m not a keg of beer for you to tap,” I told him. “Neither is Rans, and neither is Guthrie.”
Rans’ fingers closed on my upper arm, and I looked at him in surprise. But his gaze was for Nigellus alone.
“You know my opinion on the matter, Nigellus,” he said in a hard tone. “But help me keep her alive through what is to come, and I’ll discuss things with you further.”
Nigellus’ expression settled into unreadable lines. “A devil’s bargain, Ransley? Really—you do surprise me.”
“Rans—” I began, but his grip on my arm tightened incrementally, halting the words.
“If you like,” he agreed. “Ensure Zorah survives, and I will agree to revisit the subject with an open mind.”
The demon made a small huffing sound, part surprise and part irony. “Centuries of experience, and sometimes I fear you’ve learned nothing. I am already here, Ransley. It’s not as though I came to watch from the sidelines as your enemies crush you. But I am a demon, and since you’ve offered me such a bargain, of course I will accept it.”
I consciously relaxed my jaw to keep my teeth from grinding together. The worst part was that if Nigellus’ presence meant that Rans and I somehow survived this, I knew I’d be too damned grateful to begrudge the demon another crack at his argument for turning the tithelings into vampires.
My father shifted restlessly. He seemed taken off-balance by the exchange, but also self-aware enough to be irritated by the fact.
“Should we really be standing around here flapping our lips when that bastard Myrial is on the way?” he asked.
He probably had a point, but there was one more important question that needed to be asked.
“What are you even doing here, Dad?” I demanded. My eyes moved to Edward. “And you! Why didn’t you two stay in California, or go back to Atlantic City? Somewhere safe, anyway. I don’t want either of you caught up in this fight!”
“I’m still your father, Zorah,” Dad snapped. “And I don’t appreciate being treated like a child.”
I opened my mouth to remind him that he’d barely been able to feed himself a few weeks ago, but Edward cut me off.
“Forgive me, Miss,” he said, “but I daresay you’ll need my assistance with what’s to come. And your father is quite capable of making his own decisions now that he’s recovered.”
“But—” I tried, only to be cut off by Nigellus this time.
“His presence may be useful,” said the demon.
“Damn straight,” Dad muttered.
“He’s not a fighter!” I insisted. “He’s just a regular, mortal human—”
Nigellus looked at me steadily, and the words died in my throat. Because... holy shit. My dad wasn’t a regular, mortal human anymore. He was demon-bound to one of the most powerful creatures in the three realms—someone who could bring him back to life from the most horrific conceivable injuries. If Nigellus didn’t want my father to be killed... he couldn’t be killed. Period.
“I still don’t want him here,” I finished lamely.
“And I don’t want you here,” my father snapped. “Why not let the rest of them deal with this?”
“Because it’s my fight!” I nearly shouted. “Mine! Not yours!”
Dad’s fists clenched. “Sasha might have been your mother, but she was my wife!”
Words caught in my throat. I’d never heard him express emotions that passionately regarding much of anything... much less my mother.
“Enough.” The command came from Nigellus, and I hated that I could feel it settling in my bones, taking control of my will. It was only a momentary flex of his power—just enough to snap the band of tension running through the room. “Myrial will make one final attempt to sway key members of the Council in my absence before coming here,” he continued, “but that won’t take long, and I daresay it won’t be successful. I presume you do not wish the confrontation to take place in this house.”
“No,” Rans said. “We don’t. Zorah, call Guthrie and let him know it’s time to move.”
I was being managed, and I knew it. I also knew that if I let myself dig my heels in and continue the fight with my
