Page 99 of Hallowed Eve (The Obsidian Brotherhood 2)

Chapter forty-one

I woke up in Lincoln’s bed.

There was only the soft glow of a bedside lamp and the peppering of rain against the window… and my dad sitting in a chair holding my hand.

Maybe it was all just a nightmare.

“You’re awake.” A bright smile lit up his face. His blue eyes that matched mine glittered against the amber glow of the lamp. His hair was dark now instead of the blond I was used to, and he’d grown a beard. Not a bushy beard, but enough to make him look older than he was.

“How—”

“—am I here? —did I know? —long were you asleep?” He finished any possible scenario for me.

I laughed and he squeezed my hand. “All of the above.” I’d been dreaming of this reunion for years. Now that it was here, it didn’t seem real.

Maybe I died in that cage.If this was heaven, where was Lincoln?

“You’ve been asleep for a few hours,” my dad said.

Okay, so… not heaven. But still, where was Lincoln?

“Some guy named Grey found me in LA and told me everything.” Sadness shadowed my dad’s face. I assumed the initial shock wore off after his meeting with Grey. That, and he’d had the past few hours sitting here to process it all.

That was where Grey had been the past five days—wrapping up loose ends. He wasn’t skipping out on us. He was plotting our victory.Or his revenge.

“Jesus, angel, I’m so fucking sorry. I should have known something wasn’t right.” Tears welled in my dad’s eyes. “I should have—”

This time I cut him off. “They faked my death and shipped me off to a foreign country. There was no way you could have known that.”

Holy shit, my throat was sore. I brought my hand to my neck and ran my fingers over a bandage.The blade.He’d cut me. Malcolm was going to kill me—for real this time.

Dad swallowed hard. Either because of the bandage or because of the insanity of it all. I didn’t blame him. If I hadn’t lived it, I wouldn’t have believed it.

“They hurt you.” It sounded as if he was blaming himself for everything that happened.

“They didn’t do anything I couldn’t handle.” I smirked. “Someone taught me to be tough.”

“Fucking right, they did.” He leaned in and rested his forehead against mine. “You’re the toughest.”

The door creaked open and my heart raced when Lincoln peeked his head inside.

“I thought I heard voices in here.” His lips curved into my favorite grin. “Hey there, sleepyhead.” He walked over and pressed a kiss to my forehead.

Yeah, this was definitely heaven.

Lincoln dusted the back of his finger down the side of my face. He’d washed the blood off his hands, but his knuckles were a combination of scabs and bruises. His brown-green eyes darkened as his tongue flicked out over his lips. His dark curls fell over his forehead. His face had been washed clean, but part of me missed the skull. Part of me craved the demon.

“You okay?” he asked, and his concern left me breathless.

“Never been better.”

“Good.” Mischief flashed in his eyes. “Because you’re in deep shit for that stunt you pulled. The minute he leaves,” he nodded toward my dad. “That ass is mine.”

“Watch your mouth around my daughter.” Dad slid his chair away from the bed and tucked his hands into the pockets of his faded jeans. “We’ll talk more later. Maybe lunch tomorrow?”

I smiled up at him. “Lunch sounds perfect.” I would tell him about the library at Grey’s and about Mrs. McTavish, Tatum’s wedding, and Lincoln’s kidnapping. I would paint the least heartbreaking picture for him I could because the rest of my story wasn’t something he needed to hear.

“You take good care of her or I’ll fuck you up,” he told Lincoln, making me laugh. That was my dad and Lincoln knew better than to argue. They were two peas in a pod. Dad’s eyes softened when he looked down at me. “I’ll see you soon, angel. I love you.”

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