“You name the demon and I’ll tell you how to defeat it.” This is going to be so much fun, I can’t stand it.
He inhales a shaky breath. “Limus.”
I roll my eyes. “Please! Fire, end of story.” I push his hand back at him and grin.
He laughs and cries a bit at the same time. “Okay, how about Papilio?”
“Now, that’s a challenge.” We launch into a long discussion of demon fighting, which is incredibly satisfying on multiple levels. Dad keeps his own set of demon notebooks, which he promises to show me. So. Cool.
The light in my window becomes darker. My eyelids grow heavy. I want to say goodbye, but can only manage a ‘hmm’ sound as I fall asleep. My dreams take me to a small clapboard house with an emerald-green yard. Above my head, the sky’s a sheet of white light. I sit on the front porch in a rocking chair, smiling as I slowly sway to and fro. Everything is peaceful and lovely.
I awaken to the sound of whispers. Mom and Walker stand by my bed. By the light from my window, I figure it must be late in the day.
My face brightens. “Hey, cuz! Good to see you. Are you feeling okay?”
Walker bows slightly. “Fully recovered, thank you for asking. And you?”
“Better.” I reach up and grab Mom’s hand. “How long have I been out this time?”
“Six days in total.” She wears jeans and a brown t-shirt. Rockin.
“Six days?” I make a barfy face. “That’s disgusting. I’m going to shower and change.”
“It’s not that bad, Myla-la. We’ve been keeping you clean by–”
I raise my hand. “Let’s stop right there. That stays a mystery.” I haul myself out of bed and shuffle toward the bathroom. “I’ll see you both in a bit.”
I shower and scope out my closet. Mom did some shopping while I was out of it; all my sweats are gone. Bonus! I put on a pair of black jeans with a red top. I shuffle into the kitchen. Walker and Mom sit at the table, steaming mugs of coffee in their hands. Xavier leans against the counter, wearing a t-shirt and loose cotton pajama bottoms. Guess he’s moved in. Nice.
I walk over and give my father a quick peck on the cheek. “Morning, Dad.”
He positively beams. “Morning, uh, daughter.”
I return the smile. “You can call me Myla or—if you must—Myla-la.”
He nods. “I’ll remember that, Myla-la.”
I lean against a stretch of counter beside him, grab a Demon bar, and munch away. “Did anyone else visit me when I was asleep? You can always wake me up, you know.”
Mom sips her coffee. “Myla, it’s not like Lincoln can just phone or stop by.”
Sometimes, I miss the old days when she had no freaking clue what I was thinking. “Why would I ask about him?”
“Weren’t you?”
I chew and swallow another bite. “Okay, yeah. I totally was.”
Mom sets down her mug. “You know how it is with Antrum and security. No phones, no television, no computers. He can’t call ever. He can only write once a month. Ghouls can’t portal in or out. It could be a year before you hear from him again.”
My stomach twists. Maybe I shouldn’t have inhaled that Demon Bar. “Thanks for being so encouraging. I thought you liked him.”
“I do, just don’t expect him to step through that door.” She takes another long sip of coffee. “And this stuff about being angelbound. It doesn’t mean you have to be with him. There are other men out there.”
What the? This is the guy who stood by my side to fight the freaking King of Hell. I have blue eyes because we share this crazy energy together. Is she on meds now? I am not going to waltz out there and find anyone else like him, ever. My bottom lip puffs out. And besides, I don’t want to anyway.
I crinkle the bar wrapper in my fist. “I just asked a question. I don’t need a lecture on how my relationship with Lincoln is impossible. Walker covered that already, thanks.”
Mom and Walker exchange a long look. I can imagine this was a big topic of conversation while I was out of it. Mom sighs. “Whether you like it or not, you two essentially rule very separate realms.”
I turn to Dad. “What do you say?”
He frowns, considering. “I’d say I’ve never seen anyone take on a greater demon for more than a few seconds, except an archangel.” He picks up a coffee mug from the counter, and then takes a long sip. “Your children would be unbelievable warriors.”
Mom slaps her palms on the tabletop. “Not helping, Xavier.”
He shoots her a smirky grin and winks. Mom blushes her face off. I bob my head approvingly. It’s nice to have a dad around.
Mom smoothes back her hair with her palms. Blush response or not, she’s not letting this one drop. “All I’m saying is that you should think about your options. Maybe we can find you a thrax who isn’t the crowned Prince?”
“Sure. I’ll go to the thrax store and pick out a new one.”