Revealed in Fire (Demon Days & Vampire Nights #9)(20)

She lowered the plates at the same speed as her eyebrows. “You know I didn’t mean to, right? I honestly didn’t.”

“Is one of those for me?” I held out my hand, and she passed me a plate topped with a large slice of quiche.

“So what do you think about all this?” Emery asked, putting one of the plates aside. It must’ve been for Roger.

I told them what Roger had just told me. Penny nodded as she chewed, swinging her feet onto the lounge chair and leaning back. “That’s probably your best bet. With the Mages’ Guild, the warrior fae, and the shifters on your side, not to mention an elder vampire, you won’t be easy pickings.”

“You won’t be able to blend into the background anymore, though,” Emery said. “You’ll need to stand on your own to some degree.”

“Do you know what I really need to do?” I asked.

“Oh no. I know that look in your eye,” Penny said, quiche stored in her cheek like a chipmunk so she could talk. “Don’t do whatever it is you’re thinking about.”

“The second I emerge from here, the game is on anyway, right?” I took a bite and chewed. “Vlad will hit the go button. He’ll get to choose how and when he spills the beans about me to my dad. But instead of that…”

“No—”

“Maybe I’ll simply…answer the summons. You called for me, Dad. Well? Here I am. And I’m not coming to you because of that conniving elder. That’ll make Vlad scramble.” I grinned. “He’ll have to change his strategy at the last minute. It would trip him up for sure.”

Emery was nodding while Penny was shaking her head.

“Come on.” I hopped up. “Let’s get ready. Time to claim my birthright.”





Six





Cracked streets and a wayward barking dog welcomed me back to my neighborhood in the definitely-not-posh part of New Orleans. The sticky-sweet air covered me like a blanket as summer refused to step aside for fall, sweltering and unbearable. I loved it.

A forlorn whistle blew somewhere in the distance as I approached the walls of the cemetery that marked my little corner of the world. Dark clouds gathered overhead in the dying light, the greater New Orleans area currently in the cone of expectation of a tropical storm gaining strength off the coast. Having to evacuate would really put a kink in my plans. Not that I had many of those.

Roger had been quite clear that I should seek the Red Prophet first. Darius had been equally clear that I wasn’t to go anywhere without him. The natural dual-mages had been adamant that I head to Callie’s, where Karen was supposed to meet us. The druid…well, he helped smuggle me out from under all of their watchful gazes and then said he’d see me around. I didn’t know if that was figurative or he would actually meet me later, but I didn’t stick around to ask questions. Home was calling.

I meandered lazily, soaking in the sights and feel of my beloved city. I’d traveled all around the world. I’d partaken in scenic and cultural delights, sampled some of the best foods, been pampered beyond compare…but when it really came down to it, my heart was here, in this run-down part of a vibrant and alive city that crawled into your skin and lived in your heart. I couldn’t imagine never coming back here. It felt so good to be home.

I turned the corner onto my street, not a worry in the world. Soon that would change, but for now, it was like old times. My thick-soled army boots thudded against the baked concrete. My leather pants hugged my legs and a snug tank top wrapped around my torso. My sword was strapped to my back, a couple of throwing knives on each ankle, my gun in a holster around my right thigh, and a new pouch resting against my left hip. This time, I had actual magic in it. No empty casings for me anymore. In the past, when I was hiding my abilities, I used to smash empty casings against my sword, mutter curse words, and pass them off as spells. No more. I no longer had to pretend to be something I wasn’t. This time, if something came at me, I’d use my magic, and blast them with spells if I needed more oomph.

A thrill of excitement wound through me. I honestly couldn’t wait. It felt like I could finally be myself. If they’d hated me before…

A solitary figure waited on the cemetery side of the street. He was lingering in front of one of the cemetery entrances, directly across from my house.

I stopped dead.

My house…

Confused, I looked back the way I’d come. Then further up the street. Then back at the figure I recognized as Smokey, thin and slightly hunched, old and grizzled, human but keeping watch over the supernatural.

Looking back at my house, I crossed the street, my eyebrows lowered.

No-Good Mikey sat a handful of doors away, using someone’s stairs as a seat, clearly unconcerned with how they felt about trespassers. Although he was in his early thirties, his dark face was lined with the stresses of hard living. He wasn’t a crook, but he wasn’t totally straight, either. Like all of us. He didn’t have much, like most of us (ahem), but he made the most of it. This wasn’t a neighborhood for riches or extravagance. It was a neighborhood where most people lived paycheck to paycheck and hoped they had enough to cover rent. Obviously Darius had changed my stars, but this life was etched into my bones. I belonged here in a way I would never belong on that beautiful tropical island.