Page 22 of Ancient Magic

Then again, her father hadn’t been overly blessed with brains. And there was a real possibility that he had no idea what she’d been doing with her life since she’d escaped her prison.

Glancing around the narrow room, Skye counted a dozen demons leaning against the bar that ran the length of the space, their attention focused on guzzling the mugs of ale the bartender was serving as fast as he could move. All of them were low-ranking goblins, with a couple of fairies hidden in the gloom at the very back of the room.

Music blared from the speakers set in every corner, and a dim light spilled from the open-beamed ceiling, giving the illusion it was just another dive bar in the city. It was only the glowing auras and the sharp intensity of the emotions pounding through the air that assured her she was surrounded by demons.

Shuddering at the effort of once again protecting herself from the onslaught, Skye allowed herself to be led to a booth on the opposite side of the room. The demon stepped aside, and clenching her teeth, Skye reluctantly slid onto the wooden bench and glanced at the man who sat across from her.

Howard Claremont was a tall, slender man with light brown hair that matched his eyes and movie star features. Once upon a time, that face had made women sigh in pleasure. Including Skye’s mother.

Tonight, he looked older than his fifty years. Even in the shadows Skye could see that his eyes were bloodshot and a haggard weariness stooped his shoulders. With an obvious effort, he curved his lips into a smile and reached across the table, as if hoping she would grasp his hand.

Deliberately she leaned away, pressing her back against the wall behind her. “Howard.”

He winced at her cold tone. “Howard? Is it so hard to call me Dad?”

She blinked. Was he joking? “Impossible,” she assured him. “Why are you in New York? And how did you get my number?”

The smile faltered, but Howard Claremont was a born showman. He’d run away from his home when he was sixteen to join a circus and risen through the ranks from cleaning the animal cages to becoming the ringmaster. At one point he’d even been contacted by an agent to audition for a film in Hollywood. It was only his love for gambling that had destroyed his profitable career. Kicked out of the circus, he’d joined a traveling carnival where he’d met a beautiful young fortune teller. Skye doubted her father had intended to stay with the carnival, or her mother, until she announced she was pregnant.

“I wanted to see my daughter.” Howard broke into Skye’s dark thoughts, not answering her question of how he’d managed to get her private number. Instead, he pointed toward the bottle of cheap wine that was half-empty. “Drink?”

Skye wrinkled her nose. “No.”

“Tea?”

“No.”

Howard leaned back, his fingers tapping on the top of the table as he studied her. Was he trying to decide the best way to convince her to do what he wanted? Because that’s what he did. Manipulate people.

“You’re not going to make this easy, are you?”

“Why should I?” she demanded.

“I did raise you after your mother died.” There was a hint of censure in his voice. “Surely I get some credit for that?”

“Credit?” She blinked. “Are you serious? Why would you get credit for raising your own child?”

“I could have dumped you into foster care.”

She shook her head in disbelief. Howard Claremont took first prize in worst father ever. He really did.

“Instead you sold me to a horde of demons,” she reminded him in sharp tones.

He stuck out his lower lip in what was supposed to be a charming pout. “I didn’t know they were demons,” he protested, only to shrug when she narrowed her eyes at the blatant lie. “At least not right away.”

“I was twelve.”

“They needed your services,” he said, as if that explained why any parent would hand over their child to a gang of violent criminals. “And they promised you wouldn’t be hurt.”

“They held me prisoner and forced me to use my gift for their personal profit.”

A flush crawled over Howard’s face. Was he capable of feeling shame for what he’d done to her? Or just embarrassed at being called out for his sins?

“No one’s perfect,” he muttered.

Skye bit back her sharp retort. This man was a narcissist who saw the world from his own narrow vision. Nothing mattered beyond his comfort and pleasure. Not even his daughter.

She couldn’t change that, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t keep him out of her life.

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