“Wait!” I exclaim. “Let him go. He’s right. We can’t afford to give Amell free rein here. Summonings aren’t permanent, and we can send him back when we want, but we don’t want him wreaking any havoc while he’s here.”
My reasoning has no effect on Bastien as he still looks angry enough to throttle Heph. I take the opportunity to move forward with the magic and place the tip of the knife to my palm, just below my thumb. With the pointed end, I puncture my skin, deep enough that a stream of bright red blood wells. I turn my hand over the bowl, and the blood drips inside.
Closing my eyes, I silently call out. Amell… it is your daughter Thalia, calling to you from the dimension of Vyronas. I demand an audience with you.
I have no clue if those are the right words, but I do know they’re the simple truth.
Nothing happens, though, and I can’t imagine I had to say please or beg him to come. I don’t want to take any chances, though, so I add, Please. I beg you to come talk to me. I need your guidance.
Still nothing happens, and I open my eyes to find both Bastien and Heph watching me with concern.
“The blood offering may not be enough,” Heph suggests.
Sighing, I put the knife back to my palm and score a long line. Bastien growls as I wince from the pain, but significantly more blood pours into the bowl, creating a red puddle in the bottom as I squeeze my fist over it. Come on, you greedy bastard. Accept this amount I’m giving and at least have the guts to come talk to me face-to-face.
A huge boom rends the air around me, a light flashes so bright I’m momentarily blinded, and static electricity crackles so thickly that my hair lifts from my shoulders.
Standing before me is a creature—presumably my father—and he towers over me as he glowers down.
Taller than any man I’ve ever seen, he tops Bastien by a good four inches and is massively built, all brawn and muscles. He’s wearing black leather from head to toe—a tunic with criss-crossed leather straps over his torso, pants, and heavy boots. If I weren’t so scared, I’d readily admit he’s incredibly handsome, but I don’t resemble him at all. His dark blond hair is short and messy, like he just walked through a windstorm, and he has a perfect layer of facial hair, but it doesn’t hide his angular cheekbones. His eyes are blue but so dark they look like the midnight sky next to a full moon.
When two huge wings of inky-black feathers erupt outward, I scramble to stand and move away from him. The tips of his wings push past the barrier the salt provides, and another large boom fills the air. It feels like the oxygen is sucked from my lungs and I’m relieved when I suck in air to fill them back up again.
I know he’s destroyed the protection placed around us with just a brush of his wings and is free to roam at will if he wanted. We sorely underestimated his power.
Bastien pulls his sword once he realizes the creature isn’t contained and moves around the circle to stand near me.
I brandish my knife and try to steady my voice. “Are you Amell?”
The winged man cocks an eyebrow and folds his arms across his chest. “I am Amell. And I’m wondering why you would summon me only to threaten me with that knife?”
“You startled me,” I admit, refusing to lower my weapon.
Amell smirks. “Why would that be? You summoned me. Surely you expected me to come.”
“But you didn’t come right away,” I point out.
He shrugs nonchalantly. “You hadn’t spilled enough blood to interest me.”
Bastien steps forward, sword held at an angle over his shoulder, prepared to swipe if he needs to. Amell watches him with interest and, if the curl of his lip is any indication, amusement.
His regard comes back to me. “You are Thalia… daughter of Selena.”
“Are you my father?” I ask.
“I wouldn’t have come if I weren’t. The price I require to leave my domain is way steeper than a tiny cut to your palm.”
“And what did you demand of my mother?” I sneer. “Was her blood not enough?”
Amell drops his arms and spreads them. “Your mother got exactly what she wanted from me, and I got exactly what I wanted from her. Neither of us was disappointed in the end.”
I screech in anger at the implication, and before I know it, I’m launching myself at the Dark Fae in an attempt to drive the knife into his heart. Just as I bring it down, he disappears and I stumble forward. I turn around quickly to find Bastien swinging at Amell’s head, but with a snap of his fingers, the sword disappears.