Page 71 of Demon Found

“She’s unknown, untested, not brought up for what being discovered as a true aether would bring,” my father continues.

“Wait. You’re saying aether isn’t her third element?” My mind is reeling to catch up.

“Exactly. I knew you had brains, somewhere. It was confirmed on the blood work Seth secured. But she wouldn’t be a good leader son, not like you.”

A tiny prickle of pride at my father’s praise lights me up before I shut that bastard down. These backhanded compliments, I lived for them. Not anymore.

“She’s in no position to lead anything,” I agree. There’s no harm in agreeing. It’s true, she’s not. Why would that even be an issue?

My father nods his approval again. “But she’d make a good wife. You’d be a power couple—you and a wife with aether. Of course, we’d need to be sure she didn’t ascend, make sure she couldn’t get too big for her boots. But still, aether . . .” He puffs out smoke, staring at the ceiling.

My words fall over themselves before I have time to think. “What about Camille, what about the Fumus family?”

His gaze drops to mine. “I hope you haven’t gotten attached to that beauty. Sometimes we have to break promises for the good of the people, son. If Miss Smith can be kept under control, she’d be the more strategic match. Can you make her fall for you despite being her allegiance?”

I take a deep breath. He just offered me everything I want on a silver platter. But I’m missing some part of the story. He’s always got some card up his sleeve.

Making a show of being disappointed, I toe his desk and take a swig of whiskey. I’m not betraying Lorelei, not really. I’m not telling him something he wouldn’t find out anyway. There’s no way those photos aren’t going to surface. At least I can spin them to my advantage.

“Camille’s pretty, and she’s attached to me. Lorelei—” I sigh. “Lorelei already came on to me at the ball. She doesn’t know any better. Her upbringing...” I glance up to see the greed in his eyes.

“Good. Work with that. No need to let Camille know until we’re decided though, hm? Keep stringing her along for now, in case we have to change our minds. No matter what, Lorelei has to stay out the hands of the Angel King. Either as your wife, or . . . ”

Or what? Or you kill her, you scheming old bastard?

He finishes his drink and jerks his head at the door.

Dismissed, just like that.

“Oh, and Farrell? Seth is ours. He’s a bought man. Don’t interfere with his role in suppressing Lorelei’s elements.”

My father’s pitted her stepbrother against her. He’s turned family against family. And Lorelei doesn’t know. She’s just a pawn to him, but she’s mine. My allegiance.

I nod once, down my own drink, and stride out the room.

What a web of deceit. And now he’s made me part of it.

Chapter Thirty-five: Lorelei

Thethudofmyheel banging repetitively against the wooden table echoes. The first-year common room is eerily quiet. It’s normally so full I avoid it like the plague. The TV flickers in the corner, the same damn breaking news story running every fifteen minutes. I get it, I do. Riots aren’t normal. Not in the rest of Eltanin. But they’re painting the Venez rioters as the bad guys. Making them out to be the scourge of modern supe society. It’s notlikethat.

Those people have nothing. It’s why they’re rioting. They’ve nothing more to lose. Not like the rest of the supe world. The other provinces might be super-tightly regulated but the kids there aren’t dying of malnutrition. Fuck. Venez is more and more like some famine-ridden-human country. It’s disgusting. We should be better than that.

Wafting a hand at the screen, I magic it silent, ignoring Hewie’s grumbles. Enough bullshit already. He mumbles to himself all the way into the hall, letting the door slam behind him. Good riddance. He’s been about as cheery as the grim reaper this past week.

I flop on my back on the giant leather sofa and stare blankly at the domed ceiling. Even the ceiling in the common room has intricate carvings. Everything’s so grand. It’s a different life. I don’t want to give it up. Not just because some little tart played a stupid prank on me. I’ll get over my embarrassment, eventually. But she’s screwed my grades. I drag myself up and shuffle over to the table where all my books are strewn, pulling my fluffy dressing gown around me. It’s not like I care what Hewie thinks of how I look. And there’s barely anyone else here. I couldn’t look at the four walls of my dorm any damn longer. At least studying in here changes it up.

Frenetic fluttering drags me up from the depths of sleep. Groggily I sit up, pulling my face off the page of the book I was meant to be reading.Shit. What time is it?

A group of hada struggle across the room toward me, wings flapping frantically. Strung between them is a package. A package wrapped so beautifully my heart immediately sinks. I thought this was over. Sorted. My paperwork . . .

Lia slips a pair of scissors into my hand and beams, her wicked little teeth flashing. The rest of the hada traipse dutifully away but she waits, hovering at my shoulder, clapping her hands excitedly.

This is not going to be nearly as fun as she thinks it is.

I run a hand through my hair, and it catches in a tangle. Shit, I didn’t even bother to brush it this morning. I have to get a grip.

I snip carefully through the ribbon and peel the outer layers of paper away. Inside is a plain cardboard box. It’s bigger than anything Las Ratas sent before. Too big. Itcan’tbe another bit of Frank, not unless it’s his head. What have they done now?

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