The Brightest Embers. Jeaniene Frost
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the slingshot and the staff at first, either.
Still...I hadn’t given up while searching for either of those, and doing so had been just as dangerous to me and Adrian as looking for the spearhead. Yet I had given up on that. I was also catching myself lying for no reason, and several weeks ago, I’d let that poor girl get shot before I finally helped her.
Could Demetrius be right? Could tying myself to Adrian’s admittedly darker soul have, well, tainted something in me?
Adrian had worried himself about that happening, saying he never would have done it if he’d known that he was half-demon at the time. Doing so had also cost me access to the light realms that were the beautiful, sunny counterparts to demon realms. What if—partially—Demetrius was right? What if... What if I was kinda evil now?
The thought was too upsetting to ponder more in front of Demetrius, so I moved on. “You said Adrian’s life depended on me hearing you out,” I said, abruptly changing the subject. “So far, I haven’t heard how yet.”
“Demons are naturally rebellious,” Demetrius said with a quick, feral smile. “And Judians betray. That’s why Adrian joining the Archons against us wasn’t a complete surprise. I’d expected him to do something terrible and backstabbing eventually.” He sighed. “I didn’t expect it to last this long. I was convinced he’d quickly grow bored with the endless rules and restrictions ‘good’ people are expected to keep.”
“Get to the point,” I said through gritted teeth.
He stared at me without blinking. “Adrian is my son, so I love him despite his murderous, extended treachery and rebellion. Oh, I’ll torture him for it—what self-respecting father wouldn’t?—but I won’t kill him, and that makes me in the extreme minority among my kind.”
I closed my eyes. “And if another demon is crowned king by controlling access to all the demon realms through the spearhead, he’ll likely rally demons to kill Adrian, both for his fighting against your people and for his refusal to fulfill his destiny by betraying me to my death.”
“Not entirely stupid, are you?” Demetrius said mockingly.
I did flip him off then, left-handed. He returned the gesture, with an added throat-slitting mime from the remains of his shadows that was a lot more ominous. I’d seen him cut someone’s throat for real with one of those dark, lethal wisps, and it was nothing I wanted to experience for myself.
“But the spearhead’s been lost for two thousand years,” I said, trying to find a silver lining in the choking darkness Demetrius had described. “Who’s to say it won’t be lost for another two thousand?”
Demetrius’s snort was scathing. “Hasn’t anyone told you about the countdown?”
Countdown? “What countdown?”
He chuckled, low and contemptuous. “You don’t know? Well, Davidian, then I’ll give you the respect that my son and that Archon obviously felt you weren’t deserving of. As soon as you wielded David’s sling, the prophesied countdown began. Do you want to know what it is?”
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