Bitter aftertaste? Let me out of this cell and I’ll show him bitter aftertaste. Then again, what exactly do I think I’m going to do to this guy? Flap him to death? That thought conjures the memory of my almost death by doves, and I quickly try to shove it away.
“Explain,” Tazreel orders.
“Well, there’s the expected smoky taste that all Abdicated possess, but her mother is a mystery to me. I’ve never tasted the like of it before, but we’re in luck, because I’ve been able to easily pinpoint who her Sire is.”
When Hoggle doesn’t say anything more, Tazreel’s face turns thunderous. “Spit it out.”
I can tell Hoggle enjoys keeping this Abdicated on pins and needles. It’s probably the only power exchange where he’s able to come out on top. He gives Tazreel a loaded look. “The Sire is most definitely...you,” he declares with an expression on his face like he just tossed a bomb of information at our feet. Shrapnel goes flying straight into my heart.
“What?” I shout out at the same time Tazreel bellows his own, “What!”
“Indeed,” Hoggle states with a nod.
“No. That’s not possible! I’ve sired no one in my lifetime,” he defends.
I stare at Tazreel, completely gobsmacked.
This asshole is my dad?
3
“Who sent you?” Tazreel’s screaming voice jars my ears. The sound reverberates around the spiked walls of my cell, pinning me in place.
“No one sent me!” I scream right back.
Tazreel growls like a pissy wolf. He turns and paces the dark corridor of the dungeon, his blond wings flickering in the fiery light. “This must be a mistake.”
“It is no mistake,” Hoggle assures him. “She’s yours.”
Tazreel cringes, as if the very idea of me being his daughter is disgusting. Well, right back atcha, fucker. “I already had a dad, and it definitely wasn’t you,” I say, sending a scathing look at the pompous jerk.
He ignores me and starts pulling at his hair, running his hands through the blond locks aggressively. Beside him, Lanky immediately digs into his pocket and passes over a hair comb. I’m fairly certain that it’s made of bones.
Without a word, Tazreel snatches up the comb and starts to fix his hair, while I look at him like, what the actual fuck?
“You know what this means,” Hoggle says, arching a ridiculously bushy eyebrow. “You’ll have to host.”
Tazreel grinds his jaw as he finishes his primping and passes back the comb to Lanky. “Absolutely not.”
“You must, sir. Not all of course, but the Originals for certain,” Lanky says, eyes wide. “Any time an Abdicated procreates, they must host and present their offspring to the other Nihils. It’s the rules.”
“I know the rules!” he roars back, making Lanky cower. “I damned well helped write them!”
“Well, then you know I have to report this,” Hoggle tells him. The glare he gets in return looks like Tazreel is trying to smite him or some shit. I’m really glad I’m not the recipient of it.
“We host when offspring are birthed. Look at her!” Tazreel shouts, flinging an arm in my direction. “She’s ancient.”
“Hey!” I snap. “I’m only twenty-eight years old.”
“In demon years?” he questions.
“What? No. I don’t fucking know. In regular human years.”
He stops his pacing and turns to look at me. “Human? What do humans have to do with anything?”
“My parents were human.”
“False. Your parents are demons,” the Savor intervenes. “Well, at least one of them was for certain. I can’t imagine that your mother was anything else, but I can’t say for sure. Any pixies in your menagerie?” he asks Tazreel.
“What? No. How would that even work? They’re three inches tall,” Tazreel snarls at Hoggle, who in turn just shrugs.
“I’m not one to judge what an Abdicated is into; all I know is, no humans were involved in the creation of this one,” he announces again and gestures to me.
“I’m getting real tired of you, Hoggle,” I snap at him, not liking the myriad of shit that’s being dumped at my feet to deal with. I thought it was going to be hard accepting which one of my parents fucked a demon or the fact that they kept their demonic origins from me. But knowing my mother hooked up with this arrogant windbag...it’s too much.
The deep shelf of the Savor’s brows lowers in a frown. “What is a Hoggle? My name is Borf.”
“The point is, this asshole can’t be my father,” I say, nodding at Tazreel, who gives a short, “Agreed.”
Borf-Hoggle shakes his head, clearly annoyed with our mutual denial. “I must go. I’ll be reporting this, so you should ready yourself,” he tells Tazreel before spinning in a circle and disappearing instantly without a sound.
I blink as I stare at the place where the goblin-looking demon just was. “Fuck!” Tazreel yells, making both Lanky and me flinch.
He starts stalking away, but Lanky quickly intervenes. “Sir, you cannot leave your offspring in the dungeon. The other Nihil will never let you live it down.”
Tazreel stops in his tracks and looks back at me, like he forgot about my actual presence, too disturbed by the crisis of my theoretical existence.
“Oh, right,” he grumbles with a put-out sigh. “Take her to a room, but I want her watched at all times,” he says harshly, sending me a warning look that promises Hellish retribution if I try anything. “I must get ready. Those Abdicated fucks will be pissing themselves to come here. I haven’t let anyone other than Luce here since the humans’ Black Plague.”
“That was a fun party,” Lanky chirps.
I look at him with exasperation, but he just comes forward, grabbing a skeleton key out of his pocket—he probably keeps it right next to the bone comb—and unlocks my cell door.
I step out into the corridor, lifting my chin up to face Tazreel’s aggressive stare. “I will find out which female birthed you and lied to me,” he promises darkly. “And when I do, she will be punished.”
My hackles rise. “My parents are dead,” I say again. “My mom did nothing wrong. And for the last time, she was a human.”
He makes a revolted face again. “I would never lie with a human,” he tells me, looking practically nauseated at the very idea. I bristle. “Which means someone lied to me and stole you away,” he goes on, every word making his austere face grow harder and colder. “She pretended you were a human, and I intend to make her pay.”
I swallow hard, trying and failing not to shake. I can feel wrath coursing off his skin, and for the first time, my brain really catches up to the fact that this guy is other. Menacing power prickles my senses and tugs at my arm hair. Behind me, my wings snap against my back, like they’re trying to hide beneath my skin.
“I will find out what you know and mete out judgment,” he promises me. In this case, I have no idea what I should even say back. How do I dig myself out of a hole that I didn’t even know I’d fallen into?
“I just answered a Help Wanted ad,” I reply lamely. One measly job listing put me right on the path to Hell. How’s that for fair?