Page 6 of Bad Demon

Agatheena held my gaze, her glowing red eyes boring into me. “Not just any demon DNA runs through your veins, one of the most powerful and most feared. But that wasn’t the only reason they cast you aside, child.”

“What do you mean?”

“You say it was your father who cast you out?” she asked.

Anger—which I’d refused to let in for a very long time—slammed into me, and my eyes changed. They were glowing red, just like hers now. “With the help of my grandfather.”

“Who murdered your mother, Fern?”

My mouth went dry as the memory of that night flashed through my mind, as the terror I’d felt flooded me.

Agatheena kept hold of my hand when I tried to pull away, her grip far stronger than it should be.

“A demon named Grady.” I couldn’t suppress the shudder, but forced myself to share more when that wasn’t something I ever did. “That’s why I’m here. My freedom was taken from me. I …” I shook my head. “I was a child when I was handed over to a monster. I escaped, and I made sure they couldn’t come after me, but alone, powerless, I’m still vulnerable. I need to know how to protect myself, Agatheena. I refuse to be a victim again.” And seeing those breeder scout creeps around my store had brought home just how vulnerable I was.

Her grip on my hand tightened. “You are a target, great-granddaughter, because you are unique. Evil is drawn to you because of what you are. You are magnetic, you are special, and in the wrong hands, you are incredibly dangerous.”

I scoffed. “Dangerous? No. Despite my parents, I don’t have a magical bone in my body. My demon blood is dominant. I’m not a witch, and sadly, as far as demon powers go, I’m unremarkable. I’m definitely not dangerous.”

“You were lied to. You’re more than remarkable. You’re a threeling, Fern. Extremely rare and, yes, extremely powerful.”

She’d obviously lost it, living out here all on her own for the last fifty years.

“Perhaps coming here was a mistake.”

Her grip tightened again. “Your father was not the male your mother married. You are no Gannon; that coven is not yours, and it never was. Like my mother, her mate was an undesirable in the eyes of her coven.”

I straightened in my chair. “No … that’s not—”

“It’s the truth.”

“How do you know?”

“Your blood, child. My tree knows all. I know exactly who and what you are.”

Magnolia had told me about the tree. She’d told me what it could do. I didn’t think Agatheena was lying. She had no reason to.

“That child has her father’s eyes.”

The words filtered through my mind, pulled from the past, words I’d locked away, like a lot of things from that awful fucking night. The male I thought was my father had said it to my mother the night she was murdered, the night I’d been taken.

“If Gerald Gannon isn’t my father, who …” No, that was the wrong question. “What … was he?”

“You can’t work it out?”

Without thought, I swiped my tongue over my teeth, over the longer-than-normal canines I had. They were sharp as hell, but despite the name, I didn’t think my father was a shifter. Something coiled in my belly—a shameful part of me, urges I kept locked down, which I’d ignored but now couldn’t deny.

“Vampire.”

She grinned, flashing rows of sharp demon teeth. “No. I get why you’d think that though. No, child, you are a soul collector, a deal maker, but, yes, the breed is closely related to the vampire, which means they are blood drinkers. You’re a potent mix—witch from your mother, demon from my bloodline, and also one of the most powerful demon breeds there is from your father—so, no, you’re definitely not unremarkable. You are so much more than you think you are.”

My blood was rushing too fast through my veins. “Witches mate with others all the time—maybe not demon, not as often, or at least not always out in the open. But still, I can’t be the only one with mixed blood.”

“You’re right; you aren’t. There are many like you, but what makes you special, Fern, is that when your mother conceived you with her demon mate, you were one of three.”

What now?“No, that can’t be—”

“Stop interrupting me,” she said, a flash of fury in her eyes.

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