Demon Fire (The Angel Fire Book 3), Marie Johnston [books suggested by bill gates TXT] 📗

She couldn’t imagine ridding herself of the guilt that underlined all her actions.

“There are those who would use this against us,” he said, his tone grave. “We can’t let them. We have to remember who was really at fault: corrupt enforcers that we should’ve been able to trust. A self-centered fallen who used our realm’s ignorance and arrogance against us. An evil human who amassed too much power while we were distracted. And demons.” He leaned forward. “Real ones. You’re not a demon, Sierra. Your father never would’ve allowed it.”

Director Vale hadn’t told the senate, but it was fitting Director Richter knew. “He’s doing well?”

Leo nodded. “No one will find out, Sierra. And if the senate does, there are too many of us that will back your father. He’s too good of a warrior to let fall.”

“So he’s back in the field.” Papa was a good fighter. Smart and old enough to know better, he wouldn’t make impulsive mistakes. But she worried.

“Yes. Well, I don’t know if I should be the one to tell you—”

“Did something happen?” She hugged Arik to her as she leaned forward. “Was he hurt in a fight?” All the worst images flashed through her mind. Impaled by a claw-tipped demon wing and beheaded. Doused in angel fire. Injured and lost in the Mist.

“He’s your replacement.”

“On my team?”

Lines winged out from the former director’s eyes as he smirked. “He’s more like Bryant’s replacement, since he doesn’t even know how to answer a smartphone.”

“Papa’s back in the field . . . with Dionna, Jagger, Urban, Bronx, and Harlowe?” The warriors she trusted the most had her father’s back. Sierra didn’t know whether to be elated or distraught. Since her team were some of the best, they got the most dangerous assignments.

“On the team. You’ve been in contact with them. I understand you’re still working with them.” He lifted his chin to Boone. “Which means . . .”

Boone stepped back again.

A tall male with a mop of dark blond curls and a lopsided grin turned the corner. His gaze soaked her in, then landed on Arik. “Oh, angel.”

“Papa—What—I . . .” She blinked against the onslaught of tears. “I don’t deserve any of this.”

“Some of us disagree.” Leo positioned his crutches and Millie hovered at his side as he carefully rose to a standing position. “You deserve a life with your loved ones. So do I. So does your father. Protect your family, protect humans, protect the realm. The rest will fall into place.”

“Direct—Leo.” She struggled to rise.

“Don’t get up on my account. Ransom’s gotta be briefed soon. I have a few more therapy sessions so me and these legs can play nice together without crutches, and then I have a vacation to get to.” His eyes warmed as he glanced at Millie. “It’s about a century too late.”

Happiness for them bloomed in her chest until she thought she’d either melt or burst, she wasn’t sure which. Boone walked them out, leaving her with Papa.

“I’m sorry. For everything.” I’m sorry. She’d gotten to say those two words to those who needed to hear it from her the most. The weight of the realms slipped off her shoulders.

Papa squatted in front of her, his pale blue eyes brimming with warmth. “It’s not you and me anymore, kid. I should’ve told the director when I first rescued you, but you were tinier than even this little angel.”

She sniffled and Arik wiggled. Unconditional love infused Ransom’s gaze.

“He doesn’t have wings,” she said. The fear had been there until her big ultrasound, and the residual anxiety had ridden her until Arik’s birth.

The corner of Papa’s mouth lifted. “Well, if little fangs come in, I know a guy.”

She laughed, but her gaze strayed to Boone as he entered the room. His easy smile at the joke relaxed her. Boone had been a rock, but they anticipated a childhood that might have some surprises.

“You want to hold him?” she asked her father.

Papa grinned. “I thought you’d never ask.”

In his crib, Arik struck his superhero pose—one chubby arm flung out to the side, the rest of him swaddled up. Boone soaked it in.

He’d never thought . . .

A kid. He was a father again. The baby smells. The cries. The tiny teething rings and onesies . . . he thought it’d hurt. That he’d remember all he’d lost when Adam was killed.

But the memories flooded him. The happy ones he hadn’t let himself think about. How he and Phoebe had wandered around like zombies, not knowing their ass from their head, but managing to get an infant to the toddler phase to preschool. Adam’s first day of school and his mile-a-minute chatter after school.

Arik and Sierra were not only a gift that gave him a family again, they’d given him his old family back. The stuff he’d kept in storage was in the garage of their new house. Adam’s picture hung on the wall next to Arik’s.

Behind him, Sierra had her arms crossed over that ugly pea-green shirt. She claimed she didn’t care if it got covered in spit-up. That shirt could go through a nuclear war and be the only article of clothing to survive.

“Hey,” he whispered. “Think he’ll sleep the whole night again?”

She smiled. “I hope he at least sleeps through my shower.”

They left the room and he closed the door behind them. Sierra went down the hall to the bathroom and he followed. It’d been an emotional day. Leo and Millie. Ransom. Boone couldn’t have wished for a better end to the day.

Sierra was grateful to have a home to raise Arik and to be able to help her kind against Daemon once again. But Boone had never thought the dark cloud that hung over her would go away. He knew when she got quiet and she stared too hard at nothing, her regrets were eating at her.

She would always feel a level of responsibility for what had happened, including her own birth, but having that part of her life back, a chance to make amends, would be the difference between