Page 24 of The Wolfing Hour
My first thought was:Mom.
It was official. She’d died protecting me. Yes, I’d suspected, even assumed after all evidence had pointed to it, but having him admit it outright drove it home.
A feeling akin to a book closing came over me, yet I fought to hold it open. I wasn’t ready to let go of my anger at Mom for lying to memy entire damned life. I wanted her to rise from the dead so I could yell at her in person, which seemed like an awful thing to think in a cemetery.
And then there was dear old Dad.
“So. You’re saying. My father. Was a guardian. Of Hell?” My jaw was stiff; the words came slowly.
Still having trouble getting the brain sponge wrung out, so to speak.
“Yes.”
“TheHell? Your old stomping grounds? The place where the old gods, and the even older demons, dwell? The permanent mailing address of Morning Star himself?”
“Although the lore surrounding the fallen one differs from realm to realm, you have the correct idea.”
Nope.
“Your father?—”
I held up a hand. “Need a moment.”
My jaw had loosened, and my mind was working again. Unfortunately, my heart was now pounding a tattoo in my chest that echoed in my ears.
I took a slow, grounding breath. “What spell did Mom use to create the barrier? If what happened to me today and last night was any indication, she wasn’t successful.”
Sexton’s mouth drooped. “That is beyond my knowledge.”
“That tracks,” I said. “Mom was nothing if not secretive. Kind of galling that she died for nothing.”
“Not for nothing. She kept her secrets for good reason.”
“So you say.”
“Lila constructed her life—and death—around protecting you.” He was as nonplussed as I’d ever seen him. It appeared to bother him that I was still annoyed with Mom.He’d likedher.I wondered why, when it seemed she’d done nothing but complicate his existence.
“Agree to disagree,” I said, probably further discombobulating him.
“Your father?—"
“Let’s circle back to him. I need time to reckon with what he— You know, honestly, I don’t know how to face up to any of this, but let’s do the circle back thing for the moment and return to the subject of Bloody Mary. Were you there last night? Did you yank her out of the salt circle?”
“I was not in any salt circle last night,” he replied evenly.
“Did you send one of your minions to do it?”
“Minions?” His upper lip pulled up high, revealing wet, pink gums. “Do you believe I employ minions?”
“You’re really working hard not to answer me, which means you absolutely were responsible for yanking her away and don’t want to tell me how or why you did it. Fine. I won’t push.” I crossed my arms and scowled up at him. “But, uh, thanks.”
His head inclined the slightest bit in acknowledgement of my gratitude. I wanted so badly to know how he’d done it, but I held my tongue.
“Soooo, Bloody Mary,” I said. “What’s her deal with me?”
He drew in a deep, rattling breath and sighed, frosting the sweat on my temples. “Mary is drawn to you because of your power but also fears you due to its instability.”
“Instability?”
