Demon Fire (Angel Fire #3) - Marie Johnston Page 0,98
care. These angels knew her—all of her. Her hair brushed just past her shoulders, the last six inches an inky black. The nurse in the delivery room had asked her who did her hair. I had it done in Vegas was the easy lie.
Boone looked to the side at the visitors she couldn’t see, his expression conflicted. These weren’t her teammates or he wouldn’t have hesitated. Yet he’d let them into the house.
A furrow developed between his brow. “It’s, um . . .”
“Sierra, it’s Leo. Leo and Millie Richter.”
A vise gripped her heart at the familiar voice. He’d been an imposing male in his day, commanding all the warriors and dressing down senators who wanted to interfere in warrior business.
“Director Richter.” Her panicked gaze caught Boone’s, but his small smile was reassuring. He stepped aside to let the couple through.
Soft thumps accompanied footsteps. When the director turned the corner, the backs of her eyes burned. He used crutches that cuffed his forearms as he walked methodically on metal and plastic legs. He wore a plain gray hoodie and black basketball shorts. Concentration wrinkled his brow but he never stopped.
His dark gaze lifted to hers. “Still getting used to these damn things.”
His mate followed him. Strain lined her face, but drained when Millie’s gaze landed on Arik. “Oh my, that’s him?”
“Y-yes.” Sierra sat up and Arik shifted. Should she stand? Should she rock Arik back to sleep? He’d been up half the night. “Director Richter.” She’d wanted to tell him how sorry she was, knowing her words would do nothing to help him.
The director went to the couch Boone had been napping on and carefully lowered himself. “It’s not Director anymore, Sierra.” When he settled, he turned his solemn stare to her. “Just Leo. We both know that better than anyone.”
“I’m so sorry.” She tried to fight the tears but she couldn’t blink enough to stop the fall. Boone stayed by the foyer, sensing that this was something she had to face on her own.
“I know.” He rubbed one of his thighs. Was that where the prosthesis cupped his leg to stay on? Did it hurt? “Millie and I came today because we agreed that we all need this to keep from being trapped in the past.”
She couldn’t imagine ridding herself of the guilt that underlined all her actions.
“There are those who would use this against us,” he said, his tone grave. “We can’t let them. We have to remember who was really at fault: corrupt enforcers that we should’ve been able to trust. A self-centered fallen who used our realm’s ignorance and arrogance against us. An evil human who amassed too much power while we were distracted. And demons.” He leaned forward. “Real ones. You’re not a demon, Sierra. Your father never would’ve allowed it.”
Director Vale hadn’t told the senate, but it was fitting Director Richter knew. “He’s doing well?”
Leo nodded. “No one will find out, Sierra. And if the senate does, there are too many of us that will back your father. He’s too good of a warrior to let fall.”
“So he’s back in the field.” Papa was a good fighter. Smart and old enough to know better, he wouldn’t make impulsive mistakes. But she worried.
“Yes. Well, I don’t know if I should be the one to tell you—”
“Did something happen?” She hugged Arik to her as she leaned forward. “Was he hurt in a fight?” All the worst images flashed through her mind. Impaled by a claw-tipped demon wing and beheaded. Doused in angel fire. Injured and lost in the Mist.
“He’s your replacement.”
“On my team?”
Lines winged out from the former director’s eyes as he smirked. “He’s more like Bryant’s replacement, since he doesn’t even know how to answer a smartphone.”
“Papa’s back in the field . . . with Dionna, Jagger, Urban, Bronx, and Harlowe?” The warriors she trusted the most had her father’s back. Sierra didn’t know whether to be elated or distraught. Since her team were some of the best, they got the most dangerous assignments.
“On the team. You’ve been in contact with them. I understand you’re still working with them.” He lifted his chin to Boone. “Which means . . .”
Boone stepped back again.
A tall male with a mop of dark blond curls and a lopsided grin turned the corner. His gaze soaked her in, then landed on Arik. “Oh, angel.”
“Papa—What—I . . .” She blinked against the onslaught of tears. “I don’t deserve any of this.”
“Some of us disagree.” Leo positioned his crutches and Millie