Demon Fire (Angel Fire #3) - Marie Johnston Page 0,90
of Andy’s blood were smeared across her forehead. She wanted to wash the night off. Scrub off the last month of playing nice with him.
Her brother. Never. Fuck no. She had one sibling and she understood if Harlowe never wanted to see or talk to her again.
They didn’t get clear of people until three blocks later. A black van slowed to a roll alongside them. Dionna drove and Bronx was in the passenger seat.
Dionna rolled down the window. “Get in.”
Sierra hadn’t seen the warrior leader since before her fall, and from Dionna’s tight features, seeing Sierra wasn’t a relief. Harlowe must’ve updated them on everything. Jagger had come back long enough to confirm that Gerzon had also gotten away. Her . . . fath—nope. She couldn’t do it. Ransom Cormorant was her father. Gerzon had forced his genes on her mother, who’d been tragically taken from her real daughter.
Sierra’s birth had cost a lot of lives. All her secrets were out. The relief was inexplicable. Vast. Empty, yet full to the brim? She could move on, figure out a way to raise her kid, and do some good in the world that was now hers.
As she piled into the back seat of the van with Boone, he refused to look at her but stared out the passenger window, his pensive features reflected by the tint. His hold on her hand was tight though.
Was it the revelations about who she really was? Was it the way he’d been thrust into a situation like the one he’d gone through as an undercover cop? Was it having a gun pointed at him again?
Whatever it was, they’d survived. He was next to her. But the way he avoided looking at her, she wasn’t sure how long he’d stay.
The safe house was different but eerily similar to the first, down to Alma putting together a puzzle at the kitchen table. Urban was next to her, his shirt ripped and grit smeared over his face.
Her former leader Bryant was there when they arrived. He stood in the living room. His expression darkened as she entered. Dionna piled in behind her with Bronx.
When the front door was shut and locked, Sierra handed the laptop to Dionna. “Find someone who can get into that.” It couldn’t be her. They wouldn’t trust the information that was found if she was the one who uncovered it. “I’m willing to bet that Andy stored a lot on it—plans, outlines, copies of articles, whatever would stroke his ego. It should be enough to clear you all of what happened at the club. You saved people because you were there.”
Dionna stared at the computer like it was going to bite her. The awkwardness from the others stifled the air in the room.
Sierra sank onto the sofa. “So. You all know.”
“That’s what Stede had on you?” Bryant asked, his normally rough voice even harsher.
“Yes.”
“Is there anything else?”
“No. What will happen to my father?” She ignored the burn of Urban’s stare at her back. The way Bronx propped himself in the corner, his dark eyes hiding what he was thinking. How Dionna watched her with more curiosity than disgust. Sierra was a spectacle. Something to be studied.
“Bloody hell, Sierra.” Bryant made a disgusted noise and ran a hand over his bare scalp. “I don’t know. Obviously this hasn’t happened before.”
“He did what he thought was right.” She had no other way to defend him, but they had to understand. Papa couldn’t suffer more than he had because of her.
“By hiding a half demon in a realm of angels?” Bryant asked.
“Is it worse than hiding a half angel in Daemon?” The scrutiny on her increased. She wished she was next to Boone, soaking up his quiet strength. But he sat on the stairs, where he could be apart from the conversation but hear everything. “Sandeen. Right?”
Bryant’s eyes flared. “The demon that was in Alma?”
Sierra nodded. “He’s clearly not a full demon.” She’d thought it was obvious, but then the possibility wasn’t new to her. The silence in the room was enough of an answer.
“Then why did he need your blood?”
“I dunno.” Numen angels needed approval to roam this plane. Sandeen didn’t have it; he had been raised a demon. And he wasn’t her problem. “What about Papa?”
Bryant shook his head, his hands on his hips as he paced in front of her. “We’ll worry about another half-breed when we figure out what to do with our own.”