Page 106 of When Shadows Dream: Shadow Hounds

“Dumbass,” Athon snickered from behind Jezzie.

Reaching out with her psychic energy she pried at the bars surrounding Deus’s strongest emotions and inhaled. She forced his fear of losing control to the forefront of his mind and watched his face turn white. Only for a second, mind. She didn’t want to hurt him . . . much, he just needed a little lesson.

Lucifer watched, confusion followed by stunned realization dawning in his expression.

“Tell her, Deus.” Her father directed his words at his friend, but his eyes didn’t leave her face.

“Fine! We don’t know where he is. It’s true; I can see your disbelief. Yes, he came to see me. He was intent on leaving. He was angry, but more than that he looked defeated. Nothing I said swayed him and in the end Leraie intervened. She called him an idiot, said he deserved to know what he was willing to put you all through and that some time to come to his senses was his punishment for his stupidity. She sent him through a portal with some supplies. And that’s that. We can’t track him. Luc can’t link with him. Nothing. Sorry.” Deus bit the side of his bottom lip and shrugged his shoulders.

“That wasn’t so hard was it, buddy?” Luc mimicked Deus’s taunting tone from earlier with genuine amusement and affection. Movement caught her eye before she could respond.

From a high backed chair in front of the large desk Ramiel rose. He moved around it and turned to face them, his feet soundless on the thick, luxurious carpet. Carpet which matched the color of her hair. It also matched her mother’s hair and was probably the reason it’d been chosen in the first place.

Jezzie felt the fine, barely visible hairs on the nape of her neck stand on end. Nithe’s inner turmoil and agitation radiated through the link and slowly leaked into the room. She felt Athon shift closer to him as she herself stepped away from Deus and back to his side.

Thank you, Athon. The words flowed through their bonded link in tandem and Jezzie wasn’t sure who sent them first, her or Nithe. Athon’s small smile, and the way he shifted quickly onto the balls of his feet and back down again told her he’d received the message loud and clear and was pleased they’d noticed his support. What surprised her most, though, was Nithe’s ability to send the message to Athon at all. They weren’t mates, and hadn't bonded, as far as she knew. She supposed it could happen. Hell, it was possible. Angels weren’t supposed to have mates at all, so who was she to claim to know how any of it worked. It was a thought for further pondering. Later. Once they got Roth back. Once whatever new drama was about to hit the fan had settled.

When she turned her head back toward Ramiel his eyes weren’t on her, or Athon. Instead, he’d focused his piercing gaze on Nithe. Studying him in a way that reminded her of how her aunt looked at her grimoire when the result of a spell didn't match what was written.

Before he could voice whatever questions she could clearly see hovering behind his tightly sealed lips, a knock on the door frame had her and the guys shifting to the side.

“Marco, what’s up?” her dad asked the angel who looked directly at him, his eyes shifting to Ramiel with a nod before he strode over and handed him a sheet of paper.

“Shamsiel said to give you this. No news is good news, right, Ram?” Marco’s voice reminded her of scones and brandy. Undisputed, refined elegance.

Jezzie could almost picture him at home in the palace ballrooms of centuries past. He looked the part too. Perfect posture, lean frame, and broad shoulders, not too broad as to be burly, mind. Okay, maybe not the reality of what men from that time actually looked like, but definitely the cover models from the many historical romance novels she’d devoured over the years. Yet, compared to her mates, he did nothing for her, not even a slight catch in her breath.

“Shut it, smart-ass. Not in either of these cases, it isn’t.” Ramiel sighed heavily.

“Well, while you ponder whatever is going on, Ram, how about we clear the air here about Roth’s recent idiocy. There’s also a few things Jezzie, my daughter . . . damn I like saying that . . .” He smiled at her, and she felt her heart expand in her chest. “Might be able to help us out with information wise. I’d also like a chance to get to know Nithe. Especially since it seems he’s essentially my new son-in-law. Which begs the question of a wedding in our future, once Roth comes to his senses. Please, take a seat.” Lucifer gestured to the black, three-seater Chesterfield sofa which sat up against the wall beside his desk. “Marco, you can stay if you wish, but it’ll be standing room only. Deus, Ramiel, if you don’t mind.” He nodded toward the two armchairs in front of him.

“Does he always ramble like that?” Nithe whispered across Jezzie to Athon once they’d seated themselves. Her two men bracketed her on either side, a strong yet gentle hand resting on each of her thighs.

From his perch across the room Deus chortled, “Dude, he can hear you, we all can.”

“Yeah, I know. Wasn’t trying to hide it. I heard somewhere that nothing gets past the Devil, except maybe a drunken dare and the promise of a kiss. And the latter is not something I want to do with my father-in-law.” Nithe threw said father-in-law a cheeky wink. Lucifer barked out a laugh as he slapped his thigh, but Jezzie caught the light of recognition that brightened his eyes at the joke as he watched Nithe with more interest. He’d recognized the words as being Uncle Micah’s, now he just needed to figure out how Nithe knew them. Nithe was such a clever guy, and he was all hers, she thought as pride filled her.

Before her father could voice his questions or suspicions, Ramiel’s deep voice filled the wood paneled room, echoing straight through her, and from the way Nithe stiffened against her, through him as well.

“Jezebeth, are you aware your mother is currently wanted for murder?”

“Excuse me?” Jezzie’s brows felt as if they touched her hairline, they’d risen so much. Her back straightened as she went on alert, ready for a fight.

“Breathe, daughter-mine. I’m sure there is an explanation. Unfortunately she was caught on camera turning a mage into a puddle of goo. On the upside, the mage in question was not who he purported himself to be and seems to have had affiliations with someone who is actively working against the Hounds and the Praesidium, amongst others.” Lucifer sent a pointed glare in Ramiel’s direction, but the big guy just shrugged his shoulders.

“Still, until we can locate and question her the case remains open, and she’s a wanted fugitive.”

“Good luck with that. No one finds my mother if she doesn’t want to be found.” Internally she added, except Rai Rai, herself, and possibly Leraie . . . but they didn’t need to know that.

“Hmm, but, Jezzie, not even your aunt can find her. She’s been searching too. We met her at the site of the mage’s death. It’s where she lost her ability to track her.” Lucifer sounded worried to the point Jezzie felt her heart skip a beat before tripping into a run.

“What proof do you have of this murder?” she asked in a hushed voice.

Her mind mulled over the possibilities as she tried to focus on the thread of her mother’s heartbeat. It was something she’d always been able to do, something Leraie and Aunt Rai Rai had taught her to focus on as a child whenever she’d been scared, missed her mother, or felt lonely. It was there, but faint. Disconnected, as if she were too far away to follow and surrounded by a tunnel of darkness which felt neither malevolent nor good, instead it oozed neutrality. As if it just existed for the purpose of existing, both out of time and space, neither here nor there. Lost.

“Shit!” she exclaimed, before relaying what she felt to the group.

Everyone looked at her expectantly with varying expressions. Curiosity led the charge, but hope, disappointment, and confusion played across everyone’s features at least once.

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