Page 421 of Flirting with Darkness

I reach for his hand, trying to offer comfort, but he shrinks away, falling into his favorite chair. “It’s not true, Father. Please, you know I wouldn’t lie to you.”

He stares at me, gaze haunted. “I do, Daughter. But I know you’re only human and that atrocity can corrupt your mind just as anyone else’s.”

I take a breath, then another, and another until the rising frustration at his willful ignorance passes and I recall exactly how long it took me to accept the fae king wasn’t a demon.

In fact, one of the last things I called him was a demon.

I knew it was true the moment he told his version of the day my ancestors captured him, but I couldn’t accept it until I’d come to terms with what exactly that meant.

I helped keep an innocent man hostage. I can only imagine how much harder this must be for my father who hadn’t merely helped.

“In time, you’ll come to see the truth, Father. I promise.”

He shakes his head, focus finally returning to his gaze. “No, child. We must prepare. We must arm ourselves and the townsfolk. We won’t go quietly into the demon’s blackened bosom.” He bolts out of his favorite chair and turns to his bookcase, pulling down tome after tome until his desk is littered with them.

“I’ll get to work on this. You help your mother gather the townsfolk. We have to warn them.”

I stand there, not knowing what to say to convince my dear father this is all unnecessary. “Let’s not be too hasty, Father.”

“Hasty! Time is of the essence, Liesl. We don’t have any to waste. Now run and get your mother so I can tell her what needs to be done.”

I stand there, feet rooted to the imported carpet adorning the study.

Imported goods aren’t easy to come by in our town. The only reason we have such a fine carpet, why my father’s tobacco is so richly scented, and why my mother and I have enough dresses for each day of the week, is the weekly tithe the townsfolk offer us as thanks for keeping the chest.

A chest without a single demon.

I take in my father’s expression as he thumbs through the books. “We’ll find a new way. I promise,” I whisper and leave my father’s study.

But I will not get my mother.

No.

I’m going to get myself a fae king and prove to Father once and for all that I’m not crazy and that demons aren’t bringing the apocalypse directly to our town.

And if gets me executed, so be it.

9

Istart in the most logical place.

My room, my bed, lashed to the frame and under the covers. I pulled the drapes tight to shield out as much light as possible, both to conjure the same environment as every other time I’d spoken with him and to make him feel at ease if he were to arrive.

He prefers the night.

I prepare myself mentally for the task, but hesitate. Do I truly wish to reach out to him now, after making him send me away?

Am I perhaps opening the door only to get myself executed?

Maybe. But it doesn’t matter.

I close my eyes, try my best to quiet my mind, and reach out to him.

Fae king, do you hear me?

I wait a dozen heartbeats, hopeful.

He has a habit of being slow to answer.

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