A Throne of Ruin (Deliciously Dark Fairytales #2)(18)

“What are you, a dating service?”

A smile worked across his thin lips. He studied me for a moment. “You are so much more than that shifter could ever be. No wonder he is prepared to go to such extremes to have you.” He looked beyond me to the inside of the house, then stepped back and glanced down the lane. “Were you born in this hovel? Or are you being hidden here?”

“Hidden here? What are you talking about?”

He was back to studying me, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Born here, then. Interesting. Monissa will want to meet you, I think. Come with me.”

“Why? Actually, it doesn’t matter. The answer is no.”

His demeanor changed slightly, his shoulders squaring and a hint of power curling around him.

“Finley, what is it?” Hannon pulled the door open a little wider so he could fit beside me in the doorway, hand resting on the frame. His clothes were mussed, as though he’d recently put them on, and his hair stood on end. He was playing it like he’d just woken up. Which was not a great contrast to my fully awake vibe. His other hand stayed behind us, his side pressed to mine. “Who is this?”

“You are the older brother, correct?” the demon asked. “We have no need of you or your other siblings. We just want the girl. No problem.” The demon was clearly reacting to Hannon’s size.

Hannon’s brow furrowed. “Here, come in. There’s no point standing out on the stoop. I’ll put on some tea.”

The demon’s gaze slid to me, and I could see him weighing this option. I crossed my arms over my chest in a pose that screamed stubborn! He’d be more inclined to accept Hannon’s offer if he knew I didn’t want him to. Bullies were predictable.

“Finley, come on. Let him in. I’m sure there is a reasonable explanation for all of this,” Hannon urged.

“Yes, Finley. Be a good girl and do let me in.”

Rage boiled within me at the demon’s condescending tone. At his belief that he had power over me and my family. My animal surged forward and power lit me up, white-hot.

The demon’s eyes widened. Surprise rolled across his face, followed by a look of recognition, like he’d fit a few pieces into a puzzle and suddenly knew what picture he was looking at. He reached for me.

Hannon shoved me out of the way with his left hand and swung with his right. The blade of an axe lodged into the demon’s middle. Releasing the handle, Hannon grabbed the demon by the front of his fancy dress shirt and ripped him into the house like he weighed nothing. I grabbed the demon’s flailing hands and wrenched them behind his back, holding his wrists.

“What’s happening?” Sable asked from the edge of the hall as Dash ran out. My father stumbled out last, the wood legs of a chair screeching across the floor as he used it as a walker.

“Shut the door,” I yelled. “Bar it.”

Hannon threw the struggling demon down onto the floor, and I realized he’d already put down some water-resistant bedding. The demon crashed down onto the axe blade, driving it deeper.

“You couldn’t have used the sword?” I asked, jamming my knee on top of the squealing demon before bending over and grabbing the sword from under the couch.

“What is going on?” my father asked in a weak voice. “What is the meaning of this? Finley, your eyes…”

“I don’t know how to wield a sword,” Hannon said, jogging into the kitchen and returning with a carving knife. “But I know how to use an axe and knives.”

“Good gracious, Hannon, and I thought you were the soft touch.” I grabbed the sword hilt with both hands and drove the blade down into the base of the demon’s neck. The demon spasmed and quickly stilled.

“I am, until my family is in danger. Should we cut him up and bury him, or…?”

I tilted my head at him with a small smile. “Who are you?”

He rolled his eyes and shoved me away. “This bedding only works for a while. I don’t want to stain the rug. Let’s get him out of here.”

“There’s the brother I know.”

“Hannon…what…” Father hobbled in our direction. The kids stood at the edges of the room, watching quietly. If they’d had illusions of a cheerful childhood before this, that illusion was now well and truly dried up. I told them to stay in the house.

In the backyard, we dropped the demon onto his side in the dirt by the fence and extracted the weapons. Blood seeped out at first but quickly stopped. Dead things didn’t bleed much.

“Wrap him up and we’ll throw him over the fence,” I said. “I’ll jump over after him and carry him into the wood—”

Another rap sounded on the front door, barely heard out here in the back.

“I’ll get it,” Father called out.

“Of all the times for him to be feeling better,” I said, hopping up and running for the back door. “Father, no—”

The door swung open to reveal a man and woman standing shoulder to shoulder. The woman opened her mouth to ask a question before she spied me at the back door. The man beside her was the first to spot the spray of blood across my shirt. He nudged her. It took all of a few seconds for her to put it together.

They surged through the front door, knocking Father out of the way. A burst of fire fueled me, and I turned and launched down the back steps. Before I reached the fence, I took a quick detour and snatched the sword from the ground. I hop-stepped as I labored to tuck it into its sheath. I’d need to practice that move.