Litha jerked her head at Storm and narrowed her eyes. "Liar. There's not a game on Earth I can win when you're playing."
"There's one." Deliverance sang those two words as he crossed his arms over his chest and stoked the mystery with his smile. As a sex demon he had an acute appreciation of the value of anticipation.
Stumped by the esoteric clues - travel related and better than a private jet - she lunged at her father and grabbed two fistfuls of shirt. "Tell me!"
He laughed, clearly delighted by her display of delirium. "No, but I'll give you another clue. And, watch the threads! My sustenance depends on good grooming, you know."
She huffed as he gently wrested her hands away from his shirt. "Somehow I think you'd survive without fresh-pressed 'threads'."
Deliverance bowed his head a little in appreciation of her admiration. "Very well. You've worn me down. The lord of the manor here..." He jerked his chin toward Storm. "...is not exactly what he seems to be."
Litha dropped both hands to her sides and took a step back. She sobered instantly, all levity gone from her expression and tone of voice. "You're not here to make trouble, are you?"
Deliverance was taken aback, a scowl looking out of place on his flawless features. "I would never do anything to hurt you and it wounds me that you would think so.
"It's not anything bad. He's just not fully human."
She stared at her father for a couple of beats then ventured a peek at Storm to judge his reaction to the outlandish and completely unexpected announcement. Except for a muscle that twitched involuntarily under Storm's right eye he gave nothing away.
"This isn't fun anymore, Dad. Start explaining now." Litha watched the demon pull a heavy, wrought iron bar chair away from the kitchen island and gracefully take a seat like he knew his way around a barstool.
"You remember saying you thought his eyes looked like mine?" Litha's gaze flew to Storm. Of course she remembered. The resemblance was quite remarkable. Though her face remained passive, it was easy to see her mind was doing some lightning speed gymnastics. She nodded silently, while Storm looked at Deliverance to see if he would agree. "Well, you were right. They do. That's because his father was Abraxas. Probably a distant relative, but definitely same tribe."
When Deliverance finished that sentence, there was no response. The silence expanded as the newlyweds processed individually, internally testing for a likelihood of truth.
Finally, Litha said, "And you thought this would make us happy?"
He beamed. "Of course! It's my gift."
Litha lifted fingers to her temple and stared at the ground for a minute. "I can't believe I'm asking this, but how does this relate to trav..."
She stopped in mid sentence before jerking a wide-eyed gaze back to his face. "You're saying he can ride the passes." Her tone sounded far calmer than she felt.
"No." Deliverance was shaking his head emphatically. "He doesn't have enough demon blood for that. But he can piggyback. Well, not literally." His eyes drifted down Storm's body and up again, unapologetically calculating how much Storm might weigh. "He could go along with you and survive it." He turned to Storm. "Just don't get separated from her because she's your ticket in, out, and everything in between. If she loses you, you may never watch a rerun of 'Golden Girls' again."
Litha took in a big breath and let out a curse ending in, "...Jezebel's Juice."
"What am I missing?" Deliverance was just starting to tune in to the mood in the room. "That didn't sound like you're happy about winning the grand prize travel package behind Door Number Thirteen."
"Well, I don't know how I feel about it yet. The idea is brand new and I'm, um, surprised to say the least." She wanted to look at Storm and get a read on how he was taking the news , but suspected it wasn't going to be good. "When we've had time to get used to the idea, I'm sure we're going to love it and be really excited."
"Well, yeah! Go anywhere you want to go instantly? Do anything you want to do? How many humans can say that?"
She stared at him. "None."
"Exactamundo!" He jumped down from his stool in a fluid move and bent to give Litha a big smooch on the cheek. "Getting hungry. Gotta go." He grinned and straightened the sleeves of his sports coat by pulling on them.
"Thanks for coming, Dad."
"Welcome, beautiful."
"Say goodbye to Storm," she directed.
Deliverance tossed a look over his shoulder that implied he had forgotten Storm was there. "Engel Beowulf Storm. Take good care of my little girl."
"Stay right where you are." Storm said it quietly, but in the commanding tone of someone unaccustomed to being ignored. When Deliverance turned and faced him, he added, "With all due respect, Sir." Storm might have coated the honorific title with an extra big helping of sarcasm, but he wasn't in a mood to guard against belligerence or worry about the demon's feelings getting hurt. "Before you drop this bomb and hurry away, I want to be sure I'm not misunderstanding. You're claiming that my biological father was an Abraxas demon?"
"Occam's Razor. The simplest explanation is usually the correct one," the demon said cheerfully right before his expression abruptly changed to serious; as if he had just stumbled upon an unexpected obstacle. "Hold on. I'm not impugning your mother's name or anything as Dark Ages as that. Right?