Page 99 of When Shadows Dream: Shadow Hounds

“Of course, Ni, you shouldn’t even need to ask. I should’ve already done so.” Jezzie shook her head as if to clear it.

“Not at all. It’s not every day you knock the Devil on his ass.” His arm slipped around her waist and ushered her closer.

“I’m just glad I was here to see it,” Dante piped up, sliding over to stand next to Athon.

“A front row seat, even.” Jezzie giggled and Athon gave the doofus a high-five.

He pushed Raum from his thoughts and focused on Jezzie and Lucifer.

Lucifer stood shakily a few feet from them, incredulity clear on his face. Thoughts must be whirling around in his head because hope warred with disbelief in his eyes, sadness mixed with joy. Jezzie shared them all with him, the others too, maybe. Suspicion flashed across his features, his jaw tensed.

“Maybe we should come back later,” Jezzie mumbled hastily as she turned toward the door and rested her forehead on Roth’s chest. His arms stayed at his sides, fists clenched hard until his knuckles turned white. Nithe and his dragon both felt a pulse of rage slither through them at Roth’s behavior. What the fuck was up with him? Sadness filled Jezzie’s heart, he could feel its crushing weight, but anger sparked the fire in her eyes as she looked up at Roth. She shook her head, stepped around him, and made her way to the door. He and Athon both followed after her. It was no surprise to him they were on the same page when they both pushed past Roth simultaneously, deliberately bumping him with their shoulders.

“Stay, please?” Lucifer’s whispered plea stopped her in her tracks, hand mid-turn on the doorknob.

Nithe looked back at one of the most famous of all angels and felt a pang of sympathy. He was on his knees, head down, tears falling to the carpet. When he looked up, his gaze, while still bewildered, held an amazement and hope which both squeezed Nithe’s heart almost painfully and lightened it at the same time. It’d be nice to see Jezzie and Lucifer build a happy bond. He glanced at Ramiel, who still looked like a fish out of water, and felt the pang in his heart strike again.

Jezzie shifted on her feet. He could sense her conflicted emotions. Her hope, hesitancy, and fear. He pulled her to his side and whispered in her ear.

“He’s not going to bite you, a stór, and if he does, I’m pretty sure you can take him. Or we will. Go, offer him comfort. From what you told me, it wasn’t his fault and this must be hard for him to understand.” He nudged her forward a step.

Jezzie paused, took a large, deep breath and slowly walked toward her father. Tentatively, she reached out and placed a hand lightly on his shoulder. His eyes snapped to hers. Nithe looked at Athon and Roth, both men wore similar looks of shock. The sizzle and snap of a familiar bond clicked into place between Jezzie and Lucifer. The bond between them as mates allowed them to feel the connection between father and daughter, and the different bonds rolled against each other to ascertain the other's intentions. Jezzie lowered herself to the floor and held his hands in hers.

“How old are you, daughter of mine? Where have you been? Why did I not know of you?” Lucifer whispered with reverence, “Tell me everything. Tell me about your mother. How does she live? Does she still? Where is my sweet Decaria? Can you forgive me for my absence in your life?”

To hear the Devil have a bout of word vomit was an entirely odd experience for Nithe, and he tried not to snort in amusement. Jezzie looked over her shoulder at him and raised her brows before poking her tongue out at him. Athon, though, apparently had no such qualms about letting loose his amusement.

Jezzie turned back to Lucifer and bowed her head, her deep breath echoed in the eerie silence that had fallen about the room, before she looked up and said, “Father, some things are not mine to explain, nor mine to share. There is still a lot I don’t know myself, and I would hate to give misinformation.

“Mother wasn’t around much as I grew up. Not her fault, so don’t blame her, she needed to keep us hidden and the chances were better if we were apart. Aunt Rai Rai raised me, mostly. And no, she isn’t my real aunt, at least not by birth, and neither has ever disclosed in much detail the circumstances leading up to my birth or why we must remain hidden, except that there is a traitor to the Almighty hidden in plain sight and what he looks like. The better to protect me and keep me safe, I suppose. My aunt can probably tell you more, but she may choose not to. She has no love for Angel kind, except for me, of course, and Leraie.

“What I can tell you is everything you wish to know of me. It just might take some time as we get to know each other. For now, know that I am 74 years old. Yes, Decaria is my mother, as I said before. Shit! They’re probably worried sick. I’ve been missing for over a decade. What must they think?” Jezzie’s panic floods the bond and even Roth takes a step forward.

“Jezzie, your aunt, she wouldn’t happen to be a witch, by any chance? One with a penchant for de-nutting her male foes?” Deus questioned.

“You’ve met?” Jezzie smiled. “Is she okay?”

“She seemed to be fine, other than being utterly unhinged. We had an encounter before we visited you in Nestradia. She’s been sending gifts ever since. Looks like we need to have a little chat with your aunt.” Deus smiled, almost gleefully.

“Good luck finding her if she doesn’t want to be found. Plus, if anyone even thinks about hurting my aunt they’ll find themselves on the receiving end of a pretty epic suckfest . . .” Jezzie’s protective streak arched its back.

“Pretty sure she’ll come if you call, don’t you think?”

“Maybe, maybe not. Witches are notoriously careful and unpredictable, and I should know.” Jezzie wiggled the end of her nose and giggled.

“What do you mean?” Lucifer asked.

“Well, Aunt Rai Rai taught me many things growing up, including basic magic. According to Leraie, I’m not a born witch but have been granted the blessing of being a learned and gifted one. Essentially, I’m a witch, angel, and psychic vamp all mixed into one. A one of a kind hybrid with unique powers the universe has never seen before. Whatever that means.” Jezzie shook her head in bemusement.

Lucifer looked shocked and Ramiel seemed ready to pounce at the unknown element in the room, even more than before.

“What exactly can you do?” her father asked.

“You’ve seen my wings. The fire that fills my gaze. The blood-red shadows which swirl around me and keep me safe. They act on my command, but also independently. They have a voice, are one entity, ancient and gifted. Attached to my soul through darkness. They are learning to speak after a silence spanning our known existence,” she trailed off to the sounds of in drawn breaths.

Roth’s voice cut through the air, “Is that what the voice in my head is? Since I met you it’s driven me mad.” His anger bristled the hair on Nithe’s nape, and he reached out as if to restrain him, but Roth turned toward the door in disgust.

“I think so, though, she’s always spoken to me in one way or another. Just not with words. If you listen carefully and pay attention, they’ve probably been talking to you too.” She shook her head. “Anyway, back on track. My powers . . . well, Shadow Hounds collect souls and deliver them to perdition, the Well, whatever, yeah?” Lucifer nodded. “Me? I don’t do that. The vamp part of me allows me to taste, feel, see the emotions of others and feed on them. Something I need to survive. I can feed you your fantasies or drown you in your worst nightmares. Take but a sip and leave you unaltered, or take too much and leave you devoid of all emotion, take the sane and leave behind insanity. Fairly common in my kind. The difference is I don’t just need emotions to sustain me. Your sword takes the soul into its core and stores it until delivery, where it relinquishes its captive. Me, I take the soul into myself and devour its energy to sustain my immortality.”

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