CELINE
I’m not scared.
Logic says I should be, and I have a lifetime of evidence to back that up. But as I walk out the front door, with a sword slung low around my waist and a pistol tucked into my shoulder harness, all I feel is right.
Maybe this moment was destined by whichever gods are still alive, or maybe it’s a moment like any other. I don’t care. I know why I’m here and what I’m willing to do to win: whatever it fucking takes.
I don’t want my father to know the others are here with me, so they’re spaced around the courtyard and hidden by one of Ciprian’s nightmares. Only Malach and Lyklan are visible, walking on either side of me as we approachthe gate.
Father’s face is tomato red. I smile as I spot the purple vein in his temple.
He’s furious.
For once, I’m glad. I’m full of magic, more than I’ve ever had before, thanks to the estate. My skin prickles as it searches for an outlet. The three of us stop about ten feet from the gate, and a gust of artificial wind ruffles my hair. I prop one hand on my hip. It’s a casual pose, but no one is fooled.
“You seem lost,” I say.
“And you seem to have finally come home.” S’lach crosses his arms. He’s trying to be casual too, but there’s no disguising the rage in his eyes. He’s stuffed full of it, and the excess will need to find an outlet soon.
“Well, the estate does belong to me.” I’m goading him a little. I want to see how he’ll play this. I have the element of surprise, but that won’t last. He’ll make his move soon, and my guard can’t dip even for a second.
His gaze flicks to Malach, and I lock my knees to stop myself from stepping between them. “I see that you survived.” He raises his eyebrows and sneers at Lyklan. “With help.”
I scoff to draw his attention away from them. “That’s the funny thing about loyalty, Dad.If it’s coerced, it doesn’t tend to stick.” I speak to him in my mother’sthatshadialect and watch with delight as the vein in his temple throbs.
“A dead language? Really, Celine?” His lips curl. He’s trying to be cruel, but his words can’t touch me anymore.
“As long as I breathe, it can’t be dead.” I argue with him about the language because I can’t bring myself to mention her. He and I both know what I mean, and when his lips flatten into a tight, pinched line above his red beard, I celebrate the direct hit.
“You think you’re smart?—”
“Yes.” I smile. “Yes, I do.”
“You’re nothing,” he snarls. “You made a mistake returninghere, and you’ll know it when I use the pathetic angel beside you to end your life.”
His vicious stare lands on Malach as he twists his hand.
I brace myself, but nothing happens. It’s obvious that he’s trying to activate a brand that no longer exists.Thank the gods for Sheena.
“Having trouble?” I ask, lifting Malach’s shirt to reveal the unblemished skin.
Father’s face turns from red to purple, and I briefly wonder if I can make him mad enough to drop dead. If his heart gave out, it would save me a lot of trouble, but I can’t expect good luck. Freak accidents never take out the people they should.
Even still, seeing his impotent fury heals something inside me that’s been festering for decades.
He focuses on Lyklan next. “Your family’s deaths are on your head, guardian.” Spittle flies from his mouth as he crowds the gate.
“Wrong again,” I correct him. “They’re under my protection now, and I’ll peel the skin off your back and feed it to you before I let you hurt another angel in thisnishor any other.”
“Bold words, Daughter.” He waves his hand at the gate, and it flickers from golden to gray, then back again. “Especially when you’re still hiding behind your mother after all this time.”
“It must sting,” I say. “To marry up and realize you’ll never belong at the top.”
He hurls a dark, whirling ball of magic at me. I lift my hand to block it, but it slams against the gate and fizzles out before it can reach us.
My hand stays up in case he tries again. Inside, I’m buzzing with excitement I do my best to hide. The spine is powerful, and we all just got a firsthand demonstration. It will keep him out as long as it can, but it won’t be able to hold him off forever. He’s toostrong.
“You missed,” I say. “Bummer, Dad.”