Legacy of the Demon (Kara Gillian 8)

“Kara Gillian, you have yet to discover your best.”

While I digested his surprising statement, Rhyzkahl retrieved a cell phone from a dimensional pocket and placed a call, as naturally as if it was an everyday occurrence. “I need transport, forthwith,” he said then sent the phone away. He regarded me for a moment more then turned on his heel, stepped out of his orbit, and strode toward the driveway and freedom.

Chapter 42

Szerain was sitting on the porch steps, waiting for me. When I reached him, he stood and gave me a big, warm hug.

“You knew what I was going to do,” I said, gratefully accepting the embrace. “But you weren’t touching me, so you couldn’t have heard my thoughts.”

His laugh vibrated against my chest. “Didn’t have to. I know you pretty well.”

The sound of raised voices reached us from inside the house. No, only one r

aised voice and Pellini’s calm rumble.

“Idris,” I said with a wince. “I should go talk to him.” I’d known in the back of my head that there’d be people who wouldn’t agree with my decision, and now I had to face it.

Szerain nodded and released me. “For what it’s worth, Pellini understands why you let Rhyzkahl go. And even if he didn’t, he trusts your judgment.” He angled his head. “He’s a good partner for you. Isn’t afraid to call you on your shit.”

I laughed. “You’re right about that.”

Buoyed by that knowledge, I entered the kitchen to see Idris with hair askew and face flushed. Blood smeared the knuckles of his right hand, and I suspected he’d punched a wall, realizing too late that it wasn’t sheetrock.

He rounded on me. “This is bullshit, Kara!”

“I’ll talk to you once you’ve calmed down enough to listen.” I moved to the security monitor and watched Rhyzkahl’s trek down my driveway toward the front gate.

Idris made an incoherent noise then stormed down the hallway.

“If you try to go after him, I’ll have you tasered and restrained,” I snapped out in my I’m-not-fucking-around voice.

He stopped, fists clenched, and stood motionless for several seconds before wheeling to return to the kitchen.

On the monitor, the guard opened the gate. Rhyzkahl walked through and to the edge of the highway. As his foot touched the asphalt, a syraza appeared beside him, touched his shoulder, and then both disappeared.

Well, that’s done.

Though I hadn’t been aware of Pellini leaving, Idris and I were alone in the kitchen.

“Kara, why the hell would you let him go?” A current of hurt ran beneath the angry words.

“It was time,” I said and resisted the urge to sigh. “Not to mention, every lord is needed to stabilize the demon realm.”

“They can manage without him,” he said. “How could you forget what he did to you?”

“I’ll never forget it,” I replied, folding my arms over my chest. “But I don’t have to let it keep eating at me. I chose to forgive him.”

Idris narrowed his eyes. “Wait. He apologized?”

“No.”

“So you just rolled over and gave up?” He stared at me as if I’d sprouted an eyeball on a stalk. “I don’t get it. How could you let him off the hook?”

His words should have pissed me off, but instead they helped bring order to my tumbled thoughts. The last whispers of doubt melted away. “That’s not how it works, Idris,” I said gently. “Forgiveness doesn’t mean the other person has to redeem themselves or apologize first. Or ever.” I dropped my arms, nodding to myself as the core concept resolved. “Forgiveness doesn’t absolve the other person of their sins, but that’s their burden. It’s about giving up your own resentment, letting go and moving on. Forgiveness is for yourself.”

Idris took a step back. “No. Rhyzkahl has done terrible things.”

“And may again,” I said, “but so have we. Maybe not to the same extreme, but our hands aren’t clean. Sure, it’s nice to think we’re the white knights who can do no wrong, crusading for the powers of Light and all that shit. But we’ve crossed the line more than once. We committed treason by stealing a SkeeterCheater that might have made a difference elsewhere. A lot of innocent people got hurt in the bid to rescue Elinor. Hell, we executed J.M. Farouche after the battle at his plantation. Sure, we had damn good reasons in those cases—and I still believe that taking Farouche out was the right move—but there’s no way to spin it to where those weren’t bad things that we did. Thinking your side’s shit doesn’t stink is a dangerous mindset.”