“No. But if you stick around you will. Roz’s father is on the committee. He’s fae, and he’s also my uncle.”
“So Roz is half Fae. Is that where she gets the witchy powers?”
“Partly. But partly from her mother who was half angel.”
Faith stopped again. This time Ryan avoided running into her. “Roz is part angel? Right of course she is. I could tell that the moment I met her. Not.” Anyone less angelic, Faith had yet to meet. Then again, the reason they were here was because they’d been attacked by a load of angels. So maybe angels weren’t very angelic. She started walking again.
“That’s why they attacked. They hate anyone with mixed blood. They want her dead.”
“Ah.” She fell silent needing time to take in all the new information and decide whether she was actually going insane.
They came out of the corridor and into an enormous hall, like something out of a medieval film set, but luxurious, with high vaulted ceilings and richly colored tapestries on the stone walls. A long, intricately carved wooden table that would probably seat a hundred, stretched along one wall. More torches flickered from around the room and a chandelier dangled in the middle of the ceiling. She breathed in the scent of exotic spices.
“So this is your dad’s place.”
Tara smiled. “Impressive isn’t it?”
“What is he—some sort of lord of the underworld?”
“Prince of Hell?” Ryan offered.
“My Lord Asmodai is one of the seven Princes of the Abyss.” Shera the cat, or the housekeeper, or whatever the hell she was, had paused, no doubt when she realized that they were no longer following her.
Faith looked at Tara. “My Lord Asmodai?”
Tara giggled and Faith felt a smile tugging at her own lips. This whole setup was so impossibly unreal. And maybe it was better that it stayed that way. Because considering the implications of all this was way beyond scary.
Would he want her to call her “My Lord” or “Your Highness” or…
She remembered what Ash had said about locking her in a dungeon, chaining her to the wall, and having his evil way with her. But she had never thought that he might actually have a dungeon. Now, she was betting he hadn’t been joking. A wave of heat washed over her, flushing her skin.
“Are you all right?” Tara asked.
“Why?” She knew she sounded defensive, but hell, she was feeling that way.
“You looked a little odd. They’ll be all right you know. Christian and Ash. They can take care of themselves.”
“You’re not worried?”
“Of course, but they’re pretty good at what they do.”
“And that is?”
Tara thought for a moment. “Fight. They fight a lot. But yesterday, I thought I was going to die, and I’d never see Christian again. Instead I’m alive and so is Christian and—”
“Well sort of,” Faith couldn’t help adding. “I mean isn’t he the ‘undead’ and all that.”
“Don’t believe everything you read. So how about you? Are you going to be okay?”
“Yeah…no.” She shook her head. “To be perfectly honest, I haven’t the slightest idea.” She’d fallen into a fairy tale and now she was in the demon prince’s lair. And there was a witch and a whole load of fairies and wolves and…
“Can we move on here,” Shera said.
“Lead the way.”
They went out of another archway on the opposite side of the hall and up a staircase. Shera halted at a wooden door, the sort with big black iron studs and an intricate keyhole. Though no key.
“You.” Shera pointed at Graham. “In here.” She opened the door and gestured for him to enter. Graham grinned at them and pushed past her.
“Pull on the rope by the bed if you want anything and someone”—she gave a slightly malicious smile—“or something, will come and see to your needs.”
“Nice,” Graham said. “See you all later.”
Ryan was offered the next room. He turned to Faith. “You need anything?”
Faith bit her lip. The truth was she had to talk to someone and Ryan was the best bet. She should tell him she was ill, what was wrong with her and what to expect. Like she was going to die. While she couldn’t face telling Ash, someone should know. But right now, she needed time to be alone to assimilate everything that had happened, all she had learned.
“I’d like to talk,” she said. “There’s something I need to tell you. But later.”
He nodded. “Well, you know where to find me.”
“I do.”
Shera led them on. “For my Lord’s daughter,” she murmured at the next door.
Tara gripped Faith’s hand. “I never thanked you,” she said. “You went against your own people to get me out, and that must have been hard.”
“Not so hard in the end,” Faith replied. “They weren’t what I thought they were.”
“Very few people are,” Tara said. “Perhaps you should keep that in mind in the days to come.”
It was sensible advice. Maybe. The truth was she didn’t know what anyone was anymore. Her whole world had been turned upside down.