Page 60 of Heir

“You don’t have to stay here,” Mr. Fiddleman said. “I’m sure you have more important places to be right now seeing as you’re the new queen. I can keep working on the spells and let you know if I find something.”

It wasn’t that I didn’t trust Mr. Fiddleman, because I did, or at least I wanted to, but I knew that he was grieving Delia as well. I also wanted to be here when he found something. A clue, or a document that didn’t self-destruct like the Mission Impossible sunglasses.

“I can stay here with the mage for a bit,” Zandren said. “I don’t mind.”

I blinked at him. “Thank you.”

He nodded. “You should eat though. Please go find some food.”

Smiling, I nodded. “I will.”

“I’m going to go sniff around the house now, see what I can smell.” Zandren stepped toward me and cupped my jaw. “Stay safe, Little One. I’ll come find you soon.” He tucked a strand of my wild, kinky hair behind my ear. It bounced right back out again. He tried again. It bounced back out again. “Even your hair is stubborn,” he growled deep in his throat.

A shiver of something strange but wonderful, raced down my spine from his touch and my belly pooled with heat.

With an animalistic grunt, he released my jaw and headed into the kitchen at the same time Drak returned from the porch.

“The High Council has dispatched a demon advisor. She will be at your apartment within the hour. We need to go.”

“A demon advisor?” I asked.

“Someone to help you work on taming and controlling your powers,” he said. “Isn’t that what you want?”

What I wanted was to wake up from this horrible nightmare and pretend the last forty-eight hours never happened.

But I knew that probably wasn’t going to happen, so I sighed and nodded. “Right.”

“You’re okay here, Mr. Fiddleman?”

He was already breaking another spell near the fireplace in the study. We waited for him to wave his hand and mutter the words. He faced me when he finished and bobbed his head. “Yes. I’m okay.”

I flashed him a small, quick smile and thanked him once more before Maxar, Drak, and I left.

“Do we have to take the subway again?” Maxar asked with a pout as we headed back in the direction we came. “Even the bus in daylight would be better.”

“Whatever,” I said, in no mood to argue. I just wanted to go home, flop on my bed, and cry. I needed to cry. I needed to scream.

I needed to kill whoever killed my aunt.

But first, I needed to learn how to control my powers so that when the time finally came to get my revenge, I didn’t kill everyone else around me in the process.

CHAPTER TEN

Omaera

The demon advisor was waiting for us outside my apartment building when we got there.

She was stunning.

And clearly not happy to have been assigned to, what I’m sure she viewed as, “babysitting duty.”

She looked more like a dominatrix than a teacher too. And how she wasn’t sweating buckets in those tight, black pleather pants, the black leather jacket, and knee-high, black stiletto boots was beyond me. I was looking forward to ditching my jeans the moment I walked into my apartment, and throwing on some booty shorts.

“You’re late,” she said.

“I’m as on time as public transit allows,” I said, leveling my gaze at her. “I’m assuming you’re my new demon advisor?” I walked right up to her and held out my hand. “Omaera Playfair.”

She didn’t take my hand. Rather, she looked me up and down, a sneer growing on her bright-red painted lips. Then she sniffed and her eyes darkened, her sneer growing. “You’re human.”

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