Page 122 of When Shadows Dream: Shadow Hounds

“Anyone up to putting me through my paces?” she asked in her best Leraie impersonation as she looked around, her eyes locking on Lily’s lavender ones. Lily snorted and turned away.

“I am,” a lightly husky voice came from her right.

“Sorry, I’m shit with names. You are?” He was shorter than the others, but not by much, lean and muscular with an almost feral gleam in his moss green eyes. Like a monster hid beneath the surface of his refined demeanor.

“Fenris, but you can call me Fynn. Swords, yes? Whenever you’re ready.” Without another word he turned and strode into the arena, pulled two katanas from behind his back, and assumed his position on the mat.

He was brutal and he didn’t hold back, but Jezzie held her own. She parried every thrust and got a slice in here and there. Blood dripped from her arm where he’d managed to nick her flesh. From the corner of her eye she saw Nithe holding Roth back as Athon stared on. She tracked every move Fynn made, watching him, not his blades. His left hand twitched. Was it his weak one or was he trying to fool her? Was he going to attack with it? He wasn’t tiring and neither was she. Nithe fed her energy, as did Roth and Athon.

Dante cheered from the sidelines when she caught Fynn behind the knee with the flat of her blade and took him down with a rolling knee to the chest as she moved it between his legs. Her other blade rested lightly at his throat.

“Bravo, Jezzie. Not everyday Fynn gets his ass handed to him. You must have had an excellent teacher.” When her dad had arrived she didn’t know, but the pride in his eyes sure felt nice.

“I did, two, actually.”

“Of course she fucking did.” Venom practically seared her as Lily spoke.

“What’s your problem? If you’re fucking my dad or some shit and this is some fucked up jealousy thing?—”

“Ew, no, that’s disgusting . . . Sorry, Luc?—”

“Nope. I agree. Jezzie, it’s not like that. Lily is like a daughter to me and I think this whole me having a blood related daughter has stirred up some old insecurities . . .” Her dad paused as if he’d said more than he’d intended.

Jezzie released Fynn and the image of Leraie as she pushed herself up. Her blades disappeared, and she walked right up to Lily and looked her up and down slowly. The female angel flinched ever so slightly so Jezzie took a step back.

“There doesn’t need to be a problem here, Lily. I can respect your relationship with my father, but I need you to respect mine. They may not look the same, and they shouldn’t. I’m not here to push you away but rather to be a part of your family, his family. Sure, some things will change, but change doesn’t have to be bad. I came here and gained a father. I gained a brother.” She nodded at Dante. “And I’d be honored to gain a sister if you ever decide you want one. It’s up to you. I mean, he’s definitely old enough to have two daughters, and it might be fun seeing how many gray hairs we can give the old man.”

Lily looked stunned at Jezzie’s playful demeanor and a welling of tears threatened to break the banks of her lower eyelids, but she held them back masterfully.

“I’ll think about it.” she eventually said with her head high and a shrug of her shoulders before she walked away.

“Could have gone worse,” Luc muttered. “Thank you, Jezzie. She’ll come around. I hope.”

“No probs, Dad. Got any other kids I need to watch out for?” Jezzie winked comically.

Luc stepped into the gym for the first time in what felt like years. He didn’t know why but the urge had taken over and he’d dragged his ass down to the lowest level of the fortress as if drawn by some compulsion.

The moment he’d cleared the threshold he’d heard Dante loudly cheering and seen him jumping around like a crazed banana loving chimpanzee. The fucking child. Must be a great fight, he’d thought as he wandered over to see what all the fuss was about.

As he’d neared the arena the spectators had made room for him. To his utter shock Leraie had swords drawn and was circling one of his best swordsmen. Fynn had blood running from a cut on his cheek, and a gash in his side. But what caused his heart to stutter in his chest and fatherly panic to blossom in his bloodstream was the blood coating Jezzie’s arm and upper thigh. Wait, it was Leraie, wasn’t it? The hazy image of Leraie superimposed over Jezzie was confusing as fuck.

He knew better than to rush in and interrupt the fight. He was more likely to cause greater injury if he did so, as both opponents looked equally as blood thirsty and deadly. Before he could blink Jezzie/Leraie had taken Fynn to the mat and the battle was over. Fynn yielded. She was magnificent.

The moment she released Fynn the illusion dropped and her injuries vanished as if they’d never been.

Her words to Lily warmed his heart and he made a note to spend some extra time with Lil.

It was good to have Azaroth back again. Jezzie, Athon, and Nithe were certainly happy to have him home too. He led them out of the gym, through the common areas and up toward his office. He needed to catch up on what was going on and discuss the plans for the Christmas season with his daughter. It would be Jezzie’s first Christmas with him, and he wanted her to have everything she wanted. He had so many holidays to make up for.

As they went to round the last bend he ushered them ahead of him, but before they reached his door he almost crashed into a wall of male muscle. Everyone had come to a screeching halt.

An agitated and startled Abbie stood shocked in their path.

“Are you okay, Abaddon? Is there something you need from me?” Luc asked, curious she should be so near his personal office.

“Um, yeah, I’m fine,” she said with a small shaky smile. But as her gaze turned to Roth tears burst from her eyes and shaky sobs hiccuped out of her. “I’m so sorry. So very sorry. I didn’t mean to. I didn’t want to. I didn’t know what else to do. I owe her so much, you don’t understand. Please, Roth, forgive me. Mara said it was a joke, that you’d understand. I’m so sorry for the letter and all the pain I caused. You are my brothers, my family. I’ll do anything to make it right.” Her shaky sobs turned to full-blown snot bubbles as she begged for forgiveness and apologized profusely.

It took a moment for reality and deduction to set in before Luc realized what Abbie was talking about. It was her. She’d planted Mara’s note in Roth and Athon’s room. He’d known the writing was familiar, just not whose. Abbie was in contact with Mara. Abbie was a traitor.

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