Legacy of the Demon (Kara Gillian 8)

“And I, you.” She wiped away tears and then, to everyone’s surprise, smacked him on the arm and announced, “My good Lord Szerain, you should know, being stabbed is quite fucking painful!”

My jaw dropped, and Giovanni made a choking noise. Szerain burst out laughing. “I have no doubt it is,” he said.

Smiling, she gave him another quick hug then turned and looped her arm through Giovanni’s. He recovered from his shock enough to give Szerain a look of profound gratitude, then he and Elinor made their way up the trail.

I hooked my own arm through Szerain’s, and together we followed the happy couple at a weary stroll while Turek brought up the rear.

“Was it just me or did Elinor drop an F-bomb?” I asked after a moment.

Szerain’s smile widened. “Just as her essence influenced you, so did you influence it. Your awareness and mannerisms infused it and transferred to her upon its return.”

“Oh, that poor Giovanni,” I breathed, earning me a chuckle from Szerain and a low hiss of amusement from Turek. My eyes went to the shadowed forms of Giovanni and Elinor. “She doesn’t know you’re her father, does she.”

He was quiet a moment before answering. “I didn’t transfer that information. She has so much to integrate already.”

More likely he wasn’t ready to face it head on. I’d let it slide for now. “About the journal: I had a dream-vision where Mzatal took it away from Elinor—long before she did the ritual. She obviously got it back, but then how did it end up with Mzatal again?”

“Mzatal returned it to her before she left his realm,” Szerain said then smiled. “He’d have to be a complete asshole to keep her diary. After I developed the firewall, I stored it in the journal. None would think that such a frivolous thing could hold anything of worth.” He sobered. “When I knew I was to be exiled, I asked Mzatal to hold the journal for safekeeping. Mzatal understood the journal’s importance and gave me his word to protect it and the knowledge within.”

“’Cause he rocks,” I said with a grin then lowered my voice. “What did Elinor mean about not wanting to get pregnant in the demon realm and risk her baby?”

“There were no issues with pregnancies in the early days, but that gradually changed. By Elinor’s time, the demon realm’s much higher potency had a known teratogenic effect on developing human embryos, and pregnant women would miscarry if they remained past the second month.”

“Even if the father was a lord?”

“I don’t know,” he said quietly. “All I’ve discovered is that, from the very beginning, if one of our partners became pregnant, the demahnk returned her to Earth with no memory of the relationship. Our memories were then adjusted to believe she had departed for a benign reason.”

“But why?” My eyes narrowed. “If it was like that from the beginning, it had nothing to do with the potency imbalance.”

“I have theories, nothing more. Zakaar still can’t speak freely.”

Zack had risked himself too many times already in order to give me much-needed information. “Do you remember Elinor’s mother?” I asked.

“Aphra. She was a summoner and, for a time, a companion and lover.” A smile lit his weary face. “She loved the grove. I’m certain Elinor was conceived beneath its branches.”

I let out a soft breath. “And Elinor ended up with an affinity for the grove that nearly ended the world.”

“A beautiful gift despite the tragedy.”

A pang of grief went through me. My loss of the Elinor essence surely meant the loss of my connection with the grove. I stopped and looked up into Szerain’s face. “Why did you attach her essence to me?”

He took both my hands in his. “It wasn’t my initial intention,” he said. “Your grandmother had agreed to host it.”

Gracie Pazhel. His sworn summoner and Tessa’s mother. “But when Rhyzkahl killed her, he messed up your plan, and you ended up with me?”

“With you too young to give consent,” he said with a note of regret. “Tessa was unavailable, and your mother lacked the summoning phenotype.” His hands tightened briefly on mine. “Then you were born. The perfect vessel.”

“Vessel,” I said, voice acid. “Sounds awfully utilitarian.” My eyes narrowed to slits. “Gracie, Tessa, me. It was all because of our bloodline. Well? Which lord had the honor?”

“Not a lord,” Szerain said. “Not for the bloodline in question. It was Aphra.”

“Elinor’s mom? I’m confused.”

“You’re descended from Elinor’s younger sister.”

I eyed him warily. “Were you her—”

“No! Aphra married after she returned to Earth and had Rebecca—your ancestor—two years later.”