“Azazel—”
“I’m not the one who paid the price,” I cut in. I twist to see Rylan climbing to his feet, almost human slow. “Grace did. She chose it.”
He sighs. “I was worried that would happen once I realized who Wolf was summoning. Her mother and Azazel have a history. I thought I could keep the knowledge from her, but this outcome was always likely.”
“Who did you think I was summoning?” Wolf brushes his hands down his thighs. “There are only so many demons who can cross into our realm and you know it. I can count them on one hand, and half of them haven’t been seen in a hundred years.”
“Likely because Azazel killed them to corner the market for himself.”
“Maybe.” Wolf shrugs. He turns to me, uncharacteristically serious. “We’re going to get rid of these bodies and then it’s time to talk, love.”
Malachi’s arms tighten around me. “Yes.”
They’re right that we need to talk, but that doesn’t make me look forward to the pending conversation more. There’s no strange misty place to sweep us apart when things get awkward, and things are guaranteed to get awkward. I compelled Wolf against his will and then I summoned Azazel even though they told me not to. That’s not even getting into the whole pregnancy thing.
At least we’re back together again. We haven’t made any progress with removing the threat my father poses, but he no long has access to three bloodline vampires. To three men I love.
I shiver and Malachi pulls me closer yet. “Sit down, little dhampir. We’ll deal with this. You’ve done enough for now.”
It doesn’t feel like I’ve done much of anything at all. I ran when they were captured. I let Grace do all the heavy lifting of recon and surveying my father’s compound while I puked up my guts in the motel room. I couldn’t even summon Azazel correctly. And then Grace paid the price of my bargain. Gods, I even needed Azazel to do some kind of special ward to keep the pregnancy from draining me dry.
I’ve never felt more worthless in my life. A feat, that. After growing up a powerless dhampir in my father’s compound, I didn’t think I could sink to lower depths. Apparently I was too optimistic.
But there’s no time for self-pity. “I can help.”
“You have helped.” He lets me step away from him, though he runs his hands down my arms and links his fingers through mine. Malachi frowns. “You’ve lost weight.”
“So have you.” A deflection, and not even a good one at that.
He frowns harder. “Mina.”
Wolf and Rylan stalk back through the door. They’re moving better now, quickly, less humanlike. It’s almost enough to convince myself the last week didn’t happen. I know better, though. I step away from Malachi and sink onto the couch. There’s not so much as a blood stain on the floor. Waste not, want not. I swallow down a hysterical feeling giggle. Shock. It’s just shock.
“Don’t feel guilty, love.” Wolf drops down next to me and throws his arm across the couch at my back. “Humans live so few years. We cut their lives a bit short, but they were always going to be short.”
“I don’t feel guilty.” Not for their deaths. I would wager a small fortune that those three have harmed more people than I care to think about. Now they won’t harm anyone ever again. That said, I’m not overly keen on Wolf’s blasé attitude. “I might live one of those short mortal lifespans. Should we just kill me right now and get it over with?”
“You won’t.” Rylan perches on the coffee table across from me, close enough that his knees press against mine.
Malachi takes the spot on my other side. For the first time, bracketed in by my men, I can finally breathe again. My chest voice goes wobbly. “I was so worried about you.”
“You got us out,” Rylan says, gray eyes direct. “Now tell us exactly how and everything that happened in the meantime.”
It takes longer than it should. My ridiculous urge to cry only gets stronger with each point I relay, but their presence gets me through it. By the time I finish, Rylan hasn’t so much as moved, Malachi is cursing quietly under his breath, and Wolf’s eyes are flickering crimson.
I clear my throat. “Stop it. All of you. You look like you want to comfort me and I’m not the one who spent the last week starved and tortured.” The starved point is blatant, but I know my father well enough to know the latter is true as well. With three new toys to play with and break, he wouldn’t have been able to resist.
“Sound like you’ve been plenty starved,” Malachi rumbles. “We fucked up, Mina. I’m sorry. You never should have been left alone.”
Rylan looks away, something akin to guilt shifting over his handsome features. “I shouldn’t have left. My overconfidence meant you weren’t protected. I—”