Finn scowled. “If they wanted us to fight the Fae for them, they could have just said so.”
My throat ached with the knowledge that the seeds of hatred had already been sown within the little human enclave in Hell, sending out invisible roots beneath the surface.
“Don’t be in such a hurry to become one of Hell’s foot soldiers,” Rans said in a low monotone. “As career choices go, I can’t honestly recommend it.”
Sharalynn still looked troubled.
“But in the meantime, the blood wine has kept us all healthy and youthful,” she said. “You make it sound like some evil act, but that hasn’t been our experience.”
Rans turned away from the window, giving her his full attention. He’d gotten his glowing gaze under control, I noticed.
“Eternal life,” he said. “And is that really what you want?”
Sharalynn’s eyes slid to Finn, his pleasant visage marred by the large port wine birthmark that had robbed him of confidence, holding him back from approaching Sharalynn for years.
“Eternal?” she replied. “I don’t even know what that means, really. But, yes, I want as many years as I can get, to spend with the people I love.”
For a bare instant, Rans looked like he’d been struck. His eyes flew to me.
And I wasn’t sure if that was a conversation I wanted to have with other people present—especially since I was fairly certain that in his heart of hearts, Rans no longer resented his immortality. The bitterness he felt over it was mostly habit at this point, after living with it for so long.
“That’s... an understandable desire,” he said, the words emerging hoarse.
“Yeah,” I agreed without hesitation. “It really is.”
It was not, however, a desire that meshed well with becoming a vampire and fighting in a supernatural war. I considered pointing that out, but in the end, Sharalynn wasn’t the one we needed to convince.
A knock sounded at the door, left open to allow the breeze into the house. Edward poked his head inside.
“Hello, Sharalynn, my dear,” he said. “Hello, Finn. I’m afraid I must pull these two away for the meeting now. Sir? Miss? If you’d come with me, please?”
Sharalynn met my eyes, her dark gaze still troubled. “Will you be staying here for a bit after you get done talking to the elders?”
“I don’t know,” I told her. “But whatever the case, we can both pretty much come and go as we please these days. I imagine we’ll be around, off and on.”
She nodded, and came forward to pull me into an embrace. “I was really sorry to hear about your father, Zorah,” she said. “I liked him a lot.”
I let the wave of grief crest over me and break, the process of doing so having become increasingly familiar over the past several days. Breathe through the stabbing ache. Close eyes tightly to hold back bloody vampire tears. Swallow a couple of times to push everything down into the silent space behind my ribcage. Clear throat twice to prevent croakiness in response.
“Thank you, babe,” I told her, hugging back. My voice was almost level. “It meant a lot for me to know that you were here, looking out for him.”
I was still finding it oddly difficult to come to terms with the fact that my father had other people who cared for him. Which was a strange thing to get hung up on, I suppose, because why shouldn’t he? The idea of him having this whole other life that I hadn’t been a part of was painful, but... maybe in some ways it was a good, bittersweet sort of a painful, knowing he hadn’t been as desperately alone as I often pictured him being.
Sharalynn gave me a final squeeze and we let each other go. I gave Finn a quick hug, too, even managing to quip, “Don’t worry, big guy—I don’t bite. Much.”
He let out a nervous laugh, and I heard a faint snort from Rans next to the window as the tension in the room eased. We followed Edward toward the meeting hall at one edge of the village’s central square. This was where I’d first met Fatima, after Nigellus brought me here to see Dad. Later, it was where I’d danced and engaged in other erotic but harmless displays meant to encourage voyeurism so I could feed from the natives’ animus.
Now, it would be the place where Rans and I—hopefully—hashed out an agreement with Nigellus and the other demons that everyone could live with.
Despite my new undead stamina, I was just... tired. So tired of all the drama, all the politics, all the running and fighting. I wanted it to be over. Perhaps wishing for such a thing was optimistic of me, but at least most of the involved parties were ready to sit down and get everything in the open.
Finally.
My gaze met Nigellus’ as we entered the long, rectangular one-story structure. The same heavy table I remembered from my first visit here still dominated the space, but this time most of the chairs were occupied. In addition to Nigellus and several demons I vaguely remembered from my appearance before the Council a few weeks ago, I recognized Baalazar, as well as Fatima, Li Wei, and many of the other titheling elders. A few of those present nodded at me, and I gave an awkward little finger wave in reply.
“Please,” Nigellus said, rising and gesturing to a pair of empty chairs. “Join us.”
I shot a sidelong glance at Rans as we seated ourselves, trying to gauge how he was taking all of this. He had his poker face on, but I knew how badly it had freaked him out to
