Page 111 of Starborn Husbands

His nose wrinkles. “We meet my parents.”

“Wow. We were together for decades and I never got to meet them. Huh. I’m flattered.”

“It’s not what you’re thinking. Did it ever occur to you that maybe there was a reason you lost your sunstar?”

There we go. I knew that was connected. It’s so like Merrick to feed me information like this, one irritating piece at a time.

“Yeah, but I thought that reason was that Gods are huge unfair dicks.”

His stone hand closes over mine and drags me up. “If you have a sunstar, you can’t join Father’s army.”

I yank my hand away. “Join your father’s army?” I would ask “what the hell” but apparently, I don’t get easy answers.

“That’s what I said.”

“Thought he was a seraph. Don’t those, I dunno, lord over people or something?”

“Believe me. Father does plenty of lording. You’re going to hate him on sight, but if you earn his ire by misbehaving, I won’t save you. Remember that.”

I can’t say that I’m not interested in fighting alongside the Garrison mercenaries, but that feels like a motive to me. The removal of my sunstar was a last-minute amendment to my sentence. Now it’s clear that Heaven wanted that and not the Guild. Why does Heaven want me so badly?

“Lead the way.”

Lead the way he does, but I’m not led to a cool battlefield. It’s a large room with a long aisle of black stone archways that lead to a throne. Enochian is carved all over the walls and shimmery silver waves over various sections at random intervals. Light pours in from a strange orange sun beyond the windows. The man in the chair is not who I’d expect to see at all.

Despite what I know about Merrick, I anticipated white and light, which only tells me I’ve watched too many human TV shows about angels. The former angel Daniel, now seraph and still acting war general, sits like a dark shroud. His black jacket looks like the piece of armor it is, glittering under the low lighting in this place.

If I didn’t know better, I’d think I was entering a vampire’s den. Seraph Daniel’s hair is as black as his coat in a messy pile atop his head. His eyes are steel blue, and they’re bold with all the danger a creature like him is capable of.

Um, yeah. If I thought my father was scary, I didn’t know shit. Would I even be able to stand up to someone like him? My father’s like a puppy by comparison. Not that I’ll ever be stupid enough to tell him that.

At Daniel’s feet is a man dressed in nothing but a kilt, tall black boots, and a collar around his neck. His head is bowed as if he doesn’t dare look up, but he’s not showing any signs of fear, just perfect obedience.

Merrick takes a knee before his father, growling for me to do the same. I do, reluctantly. I hate bowing for anyone, but I get it. Plus, I think this angel would incinerate me for being a shithead. Seraphs are still angels at the end of the day. High and mighty dicks just like the rest of them.

“Get up,” Seraph Daniel says.

Merrick obeys with hesitant movements, watching his father closely just like you would any other predator. Daniel meets him, his long jacket unfolding like a sheet of lead as he stands. A heavy hand lands against Merrick’s face. The sharpthwackechoes down the aisle and the kneeling man flinches. Merrick’s head spins on impact and spit flies from his mouth.

Not one to show fear, and I sense that it’s especially important not to show this angel fear, Merrick snaps his head back to where it was, ignoring the blood dripping down his face.

“I warned you that if you brought him here, he would be your responsibility.” The angel’s voice sounds as if it’s been scraped up and down a gravel road too many times. Did someone light the guy’s throat on fire?

“Yes, Father.”

Did I do something?

“Punish him properly, or I’ll show you how to do it, first on you and then on him.”

Wait a sec. None of that sounds good.

“You said you wanted to meet him, sir.”

Another sharpwhackto the same side of Merrick’s face with that iron fist of a hand and another flinch from the kneeling man. The blood sprays this time.

I take another gander at the man on his knees. His body’s filled with runes. One of them says Property of Daniel. That’s obvious, though. There’s also something feral about him. He smiles as if he can sense my eyes on him and it’s wide enough for me to catch the large canines, poking out from under his top lip.

“I gave you an order, soldier.”