Page 23 of The Wolfing Hour

“So, you’re saying you don’t like her,” I said.

If he picked up on my sarcasm, he didn’t show it. “She isvile. Many of us otherworlders are. Some dislike it when that is pointed out, but it changes nothing.”

“Is that why you were banned from Hades? Because you pointed it out?”

His neck creaked as he nodded. “It is my punishment that I should love the place where I was born so deeply that I must drink a special tea to retain my sanity when I am forced to be away, yet at the same time, be so ashamed of it that I would like to see every inch of the realm incinerated, salted, and consecrated.”

So many questions, comments, and exclamations rose in my throat I had to put my hand over my mouth to stop them from pouring out.Why? What brought this on? Were you always like this? Did something specific happen to change you? I’m shocked. It sort of changes how I view you.

The strain in the tight skin around his eyes told me now was not the time for any of that, and anyway, it had nothing to do with why I was here.

“Speaking of your tea, I brought you some more demon-grown belladonna,” I said instead. “The seeds we stole fromLimbo have really taken to the soil in my garden room. We’ve now got more plants than we know what to do with, so we dried some for you, and I also brought you some fresh that Cecil bundled up.”

“That is kind of the fae gentleman.”

Cecil had never struck me as particularly kind—or as a gentleman. Especially not as he was now, passed out on top of the tombstone, hairy toes dangling over the edge.

“The belladonna seeds have taken to you, granddaughter.”

“Because we’re both demons?”Reallydidn’t like saying that.

“You’re an earth witch. You have a love for all growing things.” He plucked a dandelion from a clump of grass at his feet. “Would it be so bad if it were also because you were my grandchild, and therefore demon?”

Would it? I wasn’t sure anymore. “You’ve said yourself that you’re ashamed of that place. And I’ve always been taught to fight demons.” I sank my fingers into a bare patch of soil under the bench, and grass sprouted. “Not be one.”

Sexton dropped the dandelion into the bag with the other weeds.

Cecil was going to have a fit—if he woke up long enough to notice. Acts of waste like that were why he’d slashed Señora Cervantes’s car tires. I was tempted to dig the edible weed out of the bag myself.

“You are not demon. My blood runs in your veins, yes, but so does the blood of the Lennox witches. And every human and paranormal your elemental witch ancestors mated with. You are, like the human country in which you reside, a melting pot.”

An endearing thought. I liked melting pots.

“You haven’t told me why Mary was afraid of me. Are you dodging the subject?” I asked softly.

He sighed, and it was like an Alaskan winter wind. The tip of my nose went ice cold. “Because of what you’re becoming.”

“Becoming?”

He raised and lowered a cadaverous shelf of a shoulder. “Awakeningmight be a better way to put it.”

“Doesn’t sound better to me.”

“Your powers are preparing to manifest. You are becoming the being you were born to be.”

“Why do you sound like that?” My brows crept high on my forehead. “Oh my gods, you’re trying to sound like Gandalf, aren’t you? Have you been reading Tolkien?”

His eyes rolled to the side, thankfully not making that horrible squelching noise again. “I have read his books, yes. I foundThe Silmarilliondifficult to absorb, but I enjoyed the others immensely.”

“I believe that was a posthumous work published by his son, and you’re stalling. Please just tell me straight out who my father was, what it has to do with my mother’s death, and what the hell is happening to me.”

“Child, I am attempting to explain. It is not a simple?—”

“Just say it.” I sat up straight and looked him dead in the eyes. “Be as brutal as you need to be.”

He eyed me for a long moment then nodded. “Your father—my son—was a guardian of Hades. When I informed your mother that you appeared to be manifesting his demon abilities, she died creating a barrier between his world and yours. She never intended for you to return home and assist her. When she contacted you, it was to say goodbye, as I’m sure you suspected.”

I took a second to absorb his words, but the spongy part of my brain was sopping and struggling to soak up another drop.