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“When you returned with my soldiers and mentioned Solarian’s name,” he said tightly. The admission of ignorance must have hurt.

“Solarian.” Parisa tacked a big eye-roll on to the back of her brother’s name. “Father told us to be discreet in our operations, but Solarian never was very good at that.”

“You’re hardly a subtle, blushing peach yourself, sweetheart,” Harker told her. “You had your name carved in big letters on the front of an enormous white obelisk.”

“But I didn’t kill or kidnap soldiers in the gods’ army,” she pointed out, like that meant she’d exercised enormous restraint.

But I was with Harker on this one. Parisa’s idea of being subtle was to stop just a shade shy of a bloodbath. Not that I was surprised. I mean, look at who her father was. Regin had massacred thousands of people in ritualistic sacrifice just so he could make babies. Craziness clearly ran in the family.

“What is Regin’s plan?” Faris asked Parisa.

“I thought that was obvious. My father is going to rule the universe.” She flashed him a blood-stained smile. “And he’s going to kill anyone—human, supernatural, angel, god, or demon—who stands in his way.”

“Well, that was enlightening,” I said drily. I looked at Faris. “So I guess we’re done here?”

“Oh, no, my daughter. We’re just getting started.” And then, yep, he literally rolled up his sleeves. “Pace yourself. This is going to be a very long night.”

29

ENEMY

Faris was wrong. Parisa’s interrogation didn’t last all night. Within an hour, we had everything we needed, including the location of Regin’s secret base. Faris had seriously underestimated our combined power, which wasn’t something I expected from a god, especially a supremely arrogant one like him. He was really off his game.

Regin’s hideout was a beachside mansion on a massive estate blanketed in velvety grass and dotted with tropical trees. The balmy air smelled of coconuts and orchids, and the ocean was the perfect shade of turquoise.

“This place sure is a big upgrade from Regin’s barren moon prison,” I commented.

“It is completely his style.” Faris picked up a small gold cat statue, looked it over, then set it back down on the desk.

I’d teleported the two of us directly into Regin’s unoccupied office. This world was, unsurprisingly, not accessible by magic mirror. Crazy gods with crazy dreams of ruling the universe really valued their privacy.

“We should make our way downstairs.” I peered through a gap in the curtains. A lot of noise was coming from the beach down below. “It sounds like that’s where the party is.”

I couldn’t hear what the people on the beach were saying. The crashing waves drowned out their words. I couldn’t see the people either. A thick wall of flowering tropical trees stood between us and them. All I could see were leaves, flowers, and the beautiful ocean beyond, stretching out to the horizon.

“Before we make our move, we need to be absolutely certain that Regin is on that beach,” Faris decided.

“Playing it safe, Pops?” I frowned. “That doesn’t sound like you at all.”

He stiffened. “I am not reckless like you.”

“It’s not reckless if you think you’re more powerful than everyone else. Which you definitely do.” I moved toward him. “Something has shaken your confidence.”

“I assure you that my confidence is fully intact. I’m merely being smart about this. Lest you forget, Regin and his army of insurgents has thousands of immortal artifacts in their possession.”

“No, it’s not about that.” I set my hand on his arm. “It’s about her.” I met his eyes. “Isn’t it?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Grace.” I swallowed, and it felt like I was trying to shove a boulder down my throat. “It’s ok to miss her, you know. I do.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” He brushed off my hand and turned away from me. But before he did, I caught a glisten in his eyes. “Grace was an ally at best, a means to an end.”

I didn’t believe that for a second. Our magical connection had mostly worn off, but a few threads remained. And through those threads, his feelings for Grace burned brightly. It was undeniable.

Grace was more than just a tool to him, more than a way to create me, the daughter he could use as a weapon. And she was more than just a convenient affair when he had an itch to scratch. He loved her.

Love. It was a feeling I knew well, but I wouldn’t be surprised if Faris didn’t recognize it. He’d probably never felt it before.