Kindling the Moon (Arcadia Bell #1)(60)

That was the last really bad time for me. Apart from the occasional bout of self-pity, I had moved past all that long ago. It made me mad that Riley Cooper was able to dig it back up, so I did my best to squelch any lingering feelings of abandonment.

My thoughts floated back to another subject I was trying to avoid, and I wondered how Jupe was doing. It crossed my mind that I could send a servitor to check on him, but if Lon ever found out … ugh. No thanks. I glanced at my cell. No calls. I stupidly dialed Tambuku to double-check that I had service, then chastised myself for being desperate and put it back down. I lay down on the sofa on my side, staring at it, trying to will it to ring.

I guess that’s why I never heard the door open and close.

“Hey.”

I yelped. Lon was standing by the coffee table.

“God …” I put my hand over my jackhammering heart and quickly sat up.

As the surprise wore off, I realized I had no idea what to say, so I remained quiet. His gaze dropped to the row of Riley’s items on the table. He set down a book he’d brought and picked up her keys. “You still have the girl?” he asked.

“In the basement.”

One brow rose in question.

“I’m treating her humanely.”

He didn’t reply. Just tossed the keys back on the table and crossed his arms over his chest.

“How is he?” I asked, embarrassed that I couldn’t bring myself to say Jupe’s name.

“A friend healed his hand. The breaks in his arm were too big, so he’s in a cast.”

“Is he in a lot of pain?” I couldn’t look at him, so I just stared at the floor. My hands gripped the edge of the sofa.

Lon snorted, sounding just like Jupe. “He’s high as a kite on pain pills and glad to be missing school for the rest of the week.”

I tried to laugh, but it got distorted by a sudden surge of emotion. Don’t you dare cry, I thought.

Lon pushed Riley’s things to the side and sat down on the coffee table facing me, his legs surrounding mine. He leaned forward until his face was only a few inches away. He smelled like valrivia smoke. “Listen up,” he said, “because I don’t say this often.”

I stiffened, drawing back, unsure of his intentions. He put his hand on my forearm to stop me. I shook it off. “What?”

“I overreacted,” he said.

It took several moments for his words to register.

“Look—” he started.

“I understand.” I raised my voice to drown out his explanation. “I understand you being scared and upset about Jupe—”

“No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do. I may not be a parent—”

“Yeah, you’re not a parent, that’s right.”

Anger flared inside my chest. “Don’t give me some bullshit about how I can’t understand because I didn’t give birth to him, because even I know that you don’t have to do that to care about someone.”

“Will you calm down and let me talk for a second?” Lon said in exasperation. “I’m trying to apologize.”

I pressed my lips together.

“Thank you,” he said crossly.

I waited for several moments while he collected his thoughts.

“When I said that you don’t understand, I meant that you don’t understand why I reacted like I did. Hell, I didn’t understand it.” He dropped his eyes. “It was Jupe who pointed out some things. How I was getting you confused with Yvonne.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“You aren’t like his mother,” he clarified, “but I was reacting to you the same way. It’s just that …” He squinted his eyes and creased his brow, engaged in some inner battle to find the right words. “Yvonne put Jupe in danger a couple of times when I was away on shoots. When he was four, she left him at someone’s house, some guy she was screwing. A stranger. She took Jupe with her, and that’s one thing, but then she forgot him—her own child.”

Well, shit. I really didn’t know what to say to that. He was close enough to sense my feelings, which was probably helpful for once; let him figure it out.

“That was neglect,” he continued, “and it was her fault. What you did wasn’t the same. You didn’t know that girl could track you that way. I didn’t either, frankly, and that led me to my second realization.”

“Which was?”

“I guess I was mad at myself and taking it out on you. Like I told you before, I can’t totally blame Yvonne for all her actions. She was a wild child before I got her initiated, but after I did, she got worse. So that’s my fault.”

“What do you mean, ‘initiated’?” I asked. “You still haven’t told me what you did to her.”

He closed his eyes briefly and inhaled. “I let her talk me into having a spell done on her to increase her demon powers.”

I ran through all the spells I’d come across that could be applicable but came up short. “I don’t understand. Was this some spell you found, or …?”

“It’s a spell that one of my father’s friends learned back in the sixties. My father and a few others cast it on each other. Like I said, it amplifies latent demonic traits.”

“Makes you more demon?”