“I could have done without the reminder, but yeah.”
Reaver’s expression grew contemplative. “It’s possible. He gave you life with mystical powers that shouldn’t exist. It’s the order of the universe that he can take that life away.” Reaver’s eyes locked on Idess’s so intently the air whooshed from her lungs. “You know Kynan is a Sentinel, and that the amulet he wears is the most important object in the universe, but do you understand that he is just as important?” Of course she did—sort of—but when she opened her mouth to say so, the angel cut her off. “If you fail to keep him safe, Memitim, you will fail human-kind, and you will never Ascend.”
“Dude.” Wraith looked at her. “No pressure, right?”
Eidolon swore softly. “I’ll talk to Lore.”
“Kynan must be protected at all costs,” Reaver said. “Talking isn’t enough.” Reaver’s face turned to stone, but his eyes burned with celestial fire as he narrowed his gaze on the doctor. “You must kill him.”
Lore used the Harrowgate to get to his North Carolina home, which was really nothing but a one-bedroom shack in the middle of the woods. He had money—lots of it—but he didn’t see the point in buying a big, fancy house when this one did him just fine and had for a hundred years.
He walked past his ancient pickup and new Hummer, neither of which saw much drive time, but he liked the reminders of his humanity. He sensed his twin sister’s presence before he entered through the back door and saw her lounging on his couch in her usual leather pants and black, short-sleeved hoodie, tipping back shots of his homemade moonshine. Before Detharu had enslaved him, the illegal alcohol had provided his primary income for over half a century. Prohibition had been a great thing for Lore.
As he stepped into the living room, Sin slammed her glass down on the coffee table, sloshing liquid all over the oak top. “What the hell happened to you?”
“Got into a little scuffle.”
Coal-black eyes narrowed into fierce slits as she shot to her feet and fingered his scrub top. “You went to that… that hospital, didn’t you?” She spat out the word “hospital” as though she’d bitten into something bitter and vile.
He tugged off his jacket and shirt and dropped them on the floor, eager to shed the foreign-feeling garment. “Can’t get anything by you.”
“Did you see… them?”
“Yes.”
Her expression tightened. “You didn’t say anything about me, did you?”
“I promised I wouldn’t.” He headed toward the bathroom, but Sin didn’t take the hint and Velcroed herself to his heels. At the door, he spun around, and she nearly collided with him. “Do you mind?”
“They can’t know about me.”
“I don’t think it would be a big deal—”
“Really? A sister who shouldn’t exist? Who is an aberration? A freak?” She jammed her fists on her hips. The muscles in her biceps twitched, making the dermoire on her right arm writhe, and making the scars intertwined with the marks ripple. “Come on. Even humans kill their own kind when someone ‘isn’t right.’ You think demons won’t? We’ve seen it happen.”
Yeah, they’d seen it happen. In fact, there were species of demons that dedicated themselves entirely to the destruction of human-demon hybrids and mixed-breed demons. Seminus demons were one of a handful of breeds that bred with other species, mainly using the females as incubators, but the offspring were always male, and always purebred no matter what the mother’s species.
Unless the mother was human.
But as funky as Lore’s breeding had gone with a Sem father and human mother, it couldn’t compare to what had happened with Sin. As far as he knew, there had never been a female Seminus, and yet, they’d shared a womb, a birthday, and arm markings.
“You’re not a freak. And I doubt you have anything to worry about with them.” He held up his hands when she opened her mouth to argue. “But don’t spaz. I promised.”
“Spaz?” She huffed. “I’m going for a walk. Have a nice shower.”
She stalked away, her blue-black hair slapping against the small of her back. With one last noise of disgust, she slammed out of the house. She was overreacting. A lot. But she had a tendency to fly off the handle first and think later, and she used her long walks as a way to work off the initial burn of whatever had set her off.
Lore just shook his head and stepped into the shower. His sister was the most closed-off person he’d ever met, but then, with her past, he could understand that. He just wished he’d been able to help her long before she came back into his life. Like, maybe before he’d abandoned her to decades of abuse. Yeah, that would have been good.