A day ago, she would’ve been glad. Now, something had shifted, something she wasn’t sure how to name yet. But she wasn’t ready to let go of that part of herself anymore.
What she needed was more information.
An hour later, after triple-checking the wards all over the apartment, Iris left for work at the occult shop that was a front for her coven’s meeting place. She spent most of that hour trying to convince Lily to go with her, but again, Lily refused.
She wasn’t in danger. She knew that because when she tuned in with those instincts, they told her everything she needed to know.
As soon as Iris left, she snatched her phone up and made a call. Did she feel bad going behind her sister’s back? Absolutely. Was that going to stop her from doing it? Apparently not.
Unsurprisingly, the phone rang through to voicemail. She hung up and called again. The second call did the same, so she made a third. And a fourth. And a fifth. She made so many calls, she ate breakfast, finished her coffee, and washed all the dishes with it ringing on speaker the entire time.
Finally, she gave up. Either Mist really had gone back to Hell, or he just really didn’t want to talk to her. Whatever the reason, it was time to move on to plan B: taking matters into her own hands.
* * *
The air wasthick with tension.
Belial ground his teeth and glared at the Grigori standing across the room. The Grigori glared right back at him.
The last time he’d seen the guy, he’d tried to murder his brother, so Bel had flown into a rage and nearly burned down the building he’d been trapped in by angelic prison wards.
He still hadn’t quite let that go.
Nor had he forgotten how he’d been so busy having a tantrum that he’d nearly gotten Meph killed. Raum had melted his hands off trying to pull the consecrated blade out of Meph’s chest, but Belial hadn’t even noticed, too busy tossing fireballs to help. Too lost in the rage to be aware of anything else.
Worse, he could have pulled it out with almost no ill effect. As a demon capable of summoning hellfire at will, he was one of the few who could withstand the Empyrean magic of a consecrated weapon.
Nearly two months later, his stomach still churned whenever he thought about it. His guilt was partly responsible for why he hadn’t gone into a rage in weeks, but he wasn’t sure it was an improvement.
He was so strung out from repressing his temper, he couldn’t think straight. He drank obscene amounts of coffee and alcohol, and he rarely slept. The only thing that kept him from killing people was avoiding them.
Meph hadn’t gotten over the whole fiasco either. He’d started disappearing for hours without telling anyone where he was going, even Raum. He’d been jumpy and even more unstable than he normally was.
For that reason, Bel had sent him and Raum on a bullshit grocery mission with the most convoluted shopping list he could think of. The last thing he needed was Meph deciding he wanted revenge on Eva’s dad and starting shit. Not that Bel would blame him.
To call the truce they had formed with Dan ‘uneasy’ was an understatement. There was only one thing holding that flimsy alliance together. Or one person, rather.
“Dad!” Eva burst through the front door, and Bel exhaled in relief.
The Grigori scooped his daughter up into a tight hug, joy suffusing his face. Two months ago, his wife had kicked him out for lying about what he was for twenty-seven years, and he clearly wasn’t coping well. There were shadows under his eyes, his face was drawn and tired, and his hair was a mess.
Bel had overheard Eva and Ash talking about how Jacqui still refused to see him or talk to him, but that was all he knew. He made a point to stay out of pointless human drama.
While father and daughter reunited with cringe-worthy sentiment, Bel dropped into the sofa and tried not to puke. Then he snorted as Asmodeus slipped in through the front door and slunk around Eva and Dan to sit beside Bel.
Asmodeus slumped into the cushions and crossed his arms, long hair all in his face as he glowered at Dan through narrowed eyes.
Bel elbowed him. “Aren’t you gonna greet your father-in-law with a hug?”
Asmodeus transferred the glare to him. “He’s not my father-in-law.”
“He could be.”
He probably would be at some point. Bel could totally see Eva convincing Asmodeus to enter holy matrimony, which would be infinitely hilarious.
Asmodeus, former Prince of Hell, former Prince of Lust, a married man. Bel was liable to bust a gut laughing at the thought.
The saccharine greetings eventually concluded, and Dan sat on the sofa opposite the demons, Eva beside him. No one spoke for several moments.
