She eyed her uncle warily but took a step closer. He raised the knife. “Hold out your hand.”
Christian came to stand behind her and his warmth and strength flowed into her. She raised her hand and held it palm up, managing not to flinch as the razor-sharp blade sliced through her tender skin. Blood welled from the wound. The Walker raised his own hand and cut his palm. He held it out to Tara, and she took it so their blood mingled. A weird sensation ran through her from the point of contact. Her eyes rose to his face. A strange expression crossed his face.
“Promise, on your blood and the blood of your friend that you will never attempt to enter the Faelands.”
“I promise,” Tara said. The fae made to pull away but she held on. A flash of surprise crossed his features. “Now, you promise that you’ll keep Jamie safe. Keep him happy.”
The Walker glanced down at the cat at his feet. “I promise to try.”
Tara nodded and released his hand.
Christian took Tara’s hand in his, raised it to his lips, and ran his tongue along the cut. Immediately, the sharp pain subsided and she felt the healing begin. He kissed her palm and kept hold of her hand. “Go,” he said to the Walker. “If you ever try and touch her again, I’ll kill you.”
The Walker shrugged. “No hard feelings.”
“Piss off.”
The fog gathered around the fae, swirling swathes of white. They merged with the mist, their edges blurring. Smokey blinked at her one last time and vanished.
“He was my friend for so long, now he’s gone.”
“Despite what you’ve seen of them, the fae aren’t complete monsters, and the Faelands are beautiful.”
“Are there any mice? Smokey likes to hunt mice.”
“I’m sure they can magic him some.”
Piers snorted behind them. “Yeah, of course they can, and I’m sure they will. Because underneath it all, admittedly a long way underneath, the Walker’s a really great guy.”
“Shut up, Piers.”
Piers raised his hands. “Okay, maybe they will make him something to chase. Who knows?” He gestured around the rooftop. “Now, how are we going to persuade the rest of these guys to head home?”
The roof swarmed with demons. They kept their distance but circled like hungry sharks, their eyes gleaming in the darkness. Christian turned to the tall figure at his side. “Get rid of them.”
Asmodai flicked his hand and the demons vanished. Only he remained.
Tara studied him. This was her father. He could pass for human except for his height and the wings. His body was long and lean, his face held a harsh masculine beauty, hawk-like with sharp cheekbones and a large nose. His mouth was full and sensual, his dark hair glinted with hints of ruby, and his eyes gleamed golden. Tara could see nothing of herself in him, and she was glad. He was responsible for Chloe’s death; she would never forgive him for that.
He stood impassive under her regard. When she didn’t speak, he took a step toward her. She made to move back, but Christian blocked her retreat.
“You look like your mother,” Asmodai said.
“So I’ve been told.”
He reached out and cupped her cheek. She flinched, and then froze.
“Do not fear me,” he said. “I wouldn’t harm you. You are my blood.”
“I don’t fear you,” Tara said. “I hate you.”
He studied her as she had studied him, head tilted on one side as though considering the best way to approach her. “You hold me responsible for the death of your friend.”
“Yes.”
“I didn’t know her, and I didn’t know she was your friend.”
A wave of fury washed over her. “You think that makes it okay? Why was she killed?”
He shrugged. “She was a means to an end. I wanted to hurt Christian Roth the way he hurt me. We believe in an eye for an eye, and he took your mother from me. I wanted him to know how that felt before I killed him.”
“It doesn’t justify murder.”
A frown creased his face. “You behave like a human.”
She glared at him. “I thought I was a human.”
A look of distaste crossed his face. “Hopefully that abnormality will pass, but then what will you be, I wonder. The demon-fae were always unpredictable.”
She wasn’t sure she liked the sound of that. She might have accepted she wasn’t human, but unpredictable sounded like it could throw up some nasty surprises. She glanced at Christian.
“Don’t ask me,” he said, “I’ve never met one. They were all killed before I was born.”
“I’ve met them,” Piers said. “And yeah, unpredictable just about covers it.” He grinned. “I liked them.”
“Well, that makes me feel all warm and fuzzy.” She turned back to Asmodai. “Why are you still here?”
“I came here to offer you a home with me. A place at my side.”
She stared at him in disbelief. “I want only one thing from you.”
“And that is?”