The Sea Witch (Wicked Villains 5)
“Call your father.”
“What?”
I arch an eyebrow. “I spoke clearly enough.” I press the phone into her hands. “Call your father, Zurielle. I’m sure he’s beside himself with worry about his favorite daughter being missing.”
Mutiny shines on her face. “You want to use me to hurt him.”
“That’s not a secret, darling.” I lean closer. She smells like sex, and it takes more restraint than I anticipate not to drag my mouth over her shoulder and up to her neck. “Do you think he’s not looking for you? Imagine how many powerful people he’ll make enemies of in the process. He’ll endanger himself if he thinks he can bring you home. You don’t want that, do you?”
“That’s not fair.”
“It’s also not a lie. You know how your father operates.” No matter how naive she is, how sheltered, she can’t avoid that truth. Triton is a rabid dragon of a man, hoarding the few things he cares about in this world and breathing fire at anyone who gets too close. Surely she’s smelled the fire, seen the ash.
Zurielle can’t quite meet my gaze. “Yes. I know how he operates.” Her eyes skate to Alaric. He must have told her at least part of the truth, then. Good. Alaric doesn’t talk to enough people about what brought him to the Underworld. It’s ironic in the extreme that the one time he wasn’t being selfish to a fault is the time that his actions bit him in the ass hard enough to derail his life. I’m glad for it.
It brought him to me, after all.
I walk to the couch and motion to it. “Sit down and call your father. That’s not a suggestion; it’s a command.”
She hesitates but finally nods. “Yes, Mistress.” Zurielle walks to the couch and, after the briefest hesitation, sinks onto it. She barely flinches when I join her on one side and Alaric does the same on the other.
Zurielle takes a deep breath as if to brace herself and clicks her father’s contact. The volume is loud enough to hear it ring from this close, and a deep voice answer. She swallows hard. “Hi, Daddy.”Chapter 17ZurielleThere’s a reason I didn’t find the time to call home those two days I was in the Underworld before the auction. And I certainly had no intention of doing it now. Too bad I don’t have a choice.
My father’s voice in my ear is usually a comfort. He’s larger than life in a completely different way from Ursa. They both dominate a room, but my father has been the cornerstone of my life. My protector. Sometimes my jailor. The one who lifted me up, but then ensured I didn’t fly too far.
If Alaric is to be believed, he’s also a very bad man who does very bad things.
I wish I could call Alaric a liar, could dismiss his story out of hand. I can’t. There’s too many little things that line up with what he’s said, things that I’ve ignored until this point. Things I can’t afford to ignore any longer.
And the longer I’m outside of his house, the better I can breathe. Surely that’s not normal? I have no doubt my father loves me, but love isn’t supposed to constrict around a person until they can’t manage a full inhale. It’s not supposed to feel like a trap around your leg.
Right?
“Zuri? Are you okay? I’ve been worried sick.”
I open my mouth to assure my father that I’m fine, but that’s not what comes out. “Do you kill people, Daddy? I know that you oversee stolen goods and drugs. Do you oversee human trafficking, too? How deep does the rot go?”
He’s silent for several beats, his breathing coming down the line. “Where are you? It’s time for you to come home.”
Anger flares. It’s not solely directed at him. A healthy chunk is aimed directly at me, at my willful ignorance. There were so many times over the years when I could have asked questions, could have pushed against the boundaries he built up around me, but I was content to be a bird in a cage. Spoiled to an absurd degree, but trapped all the same. Trapped. He kept me all but locked up, yes, but I didn’t challenge him once. Not until I met Alaric. Not until I left Olympus.
“I’m not coming home. Not when my father’s a liar and a thief and maybe even a murderer.”
“Zurielle Ti Rosi, don’t you dare take that tone with me.”
“Or what, Daddy? Are you going to threaten to break every bone in my body?”
He huffs out a breath, sounding like a bull about to charge. “You’re my daughter, and I know what’s best for you.”
“I notice that you didn’t respond to that. Is it because you’ve made that threat so many times, you can’t begin to guess who I’ve been talking to?” Oh, I’m truly angry now. I didn’t even realize how angry until this very moment. “How could you? You bully and preach and force me and my sisters into the boxes you think we should fit into, until we’re damn near paragons of virtue, until we can’t make a single step out of line for fear of your anger and disappointment, and you’re leaving the house every day to play the hypocrite.”