Demon Fire (Angel Fire #3) - Marie Johnston Page 0,74
add to the sourness in her gut. She was doing this for the baby. Her child wasn’t going to live in fear of being discovered like she had. “It’s Jameson’s.”
Satisfaction filled his eyes. “You two worked against Stede.”
She dipped her head.
That earned another flash of a smile. “Well done.”
“I thought you’d mourn losing a contact in Numen.”
“That was Jameson’s goal. Not mine.”
“And what is yours?” He didn’t answer. It was her turn for a serene smile. “It was worth a shot.”
“Why are you here, fallen?”
“Money,” she said with a laugh, as if it was obvious. “I’m a prisoner here or a prisoner with my former team. They don’t trust me and can’t wait to pretend I don’t exist again. You have Jameson’s money.”
A beat of surprise made it through his placid expression. “I didn’t take you for greedy.”
“I’ve been forced to become a realist. I have no money. No home. I’m having a baby. That baby is Jameson’s and whatever he had should be passed down.”
“By that logic, I should turn everything over to his son Julian, the one you call Jagger.”
He thought he’d called her bluff. “I mean, go ahead. I’m sure Jagger won’t turn it away. The team would love to shut this place down. But you don’t want that, do you?”
“The club . . . serves a purpose.” Andy leaned forward, his folded hands now on the table. “So, what exactly do you want? You can’t expect me to trust you, or give you free rein while you stay here.”
“I’ll take Jameson’s old place. It’s better than the cell you’d probably have thrown me in once you caught me. I want to be able to go to the doctor when I need to. And I want a midwife in case this little peanut has wings.”
Sick excitement flared in his eyes. She’d wanted her baby to be blissfully human looking before, but now it was imperative.
“A midwife. Interesting. I can arrange for a team of doctors to be brought in.”
“So I get to stay?”
He tsked. “Ms. Cormorant. There’ll be conditions.”
She hated that he knew her last name. The corruption had exposed more of Numen than her kind had thought.
Andy had shown himself capable of much more. The more she could prove he’d done, that Jameson hadn’t been the only brains behind his machinations, the safer her team would be, or any angel who went after Andy. Her kind hunted demons. Hurting a human was a hard limit, killing one worse. She refused to let that little bastard be responsible for another angel’s wings.
“Will there be answers?” she asked.
“To what?” he replied coyly.
“Who’s my father?”
“Why do you think I’d know?”
She rolled her eyes, fed up with his sleaziness. “Before Stede showed up, there were only two beings in all the realms that knew, and one is dead.”
“Yes, your father mourned the fact that he couldn’t hang on to your mother before she delivered.”
Bile rose in her stomach. Her mother had suffered, and Andy sounded as regretful as the demon who’d hurt her.
He separated his hands and tapped his fingers on the table. “I’ll give you some information in return, since it feels as if the power dynamic’s a bit lopsided.”
“You’re so kind,” she said wryly.
“I consider a demon my father.”
“How?” She couldn’t come up with a way. Andy was human. He was evil all by himself, but he was human.
“He possessed the man who impregnated my mother.”
Her eyes flared. They’d known it was possible, but most children who resulted from possessed copulation didn’t know it.
“Mm.” His eyes lit at her shock. “And you’re like my mother.”
Ugh. “How?” She hated that she’d figured out the answer.
“She also fell under Jameson’s spell.” He frowned. “I’m disappointed, actually. I expected more from you.”
Was he saying that to get under her skin? He didn’t know her. He knew of her—and she wanted to know how. “What’s your father’s name?”
“That’s for another time. Now, for the conditions. You can have Jameson’s old quarters. You cannot leave. You’ll have guards twenty-four seven. No outside communication. Everything you need will be brought to you.”
Shit. Restrictions were going to be tight. “That’s a lot of rules.”
“It’s that or a dirty cell.”
She believed him. “Fine.”
“And you can’t tell anyone Jameson is dead.”
Her team had been right. “I see.”
“There’ll be serious repercussions if you do.” He didn’t elaborate.
“Anything else?”
Another sly smile. “I need your blood.”
“We can’t trust her.” Harlowe shook her head, her long braid swinging.
Alma worked on a puzzle of waterfalls at the card table set up in