come the fuck on, but my incredulous sound goes ignored by them both. Louquin eyes me speculatively, taking in my appearance.
“Unfortunately, I’m not certain of who the mother is,” Taz goes on. “I applied a tincture to track this bundle of joy’s bloodline, and it led me straight here. She must have a maternal relative on base. I’m hoping you can help me track them down so the little whelp’s mother can be located,” Taz finishes.
I snort, not at all amused by the technically accurate, but very misleading tale that my sperm donor just wove into existence, as though he’s reading bedtime stories instead of trying to solve the problem of his whoring ways.
“Well, first let me congratulate you,” Louquin offers with a blinding smile before his brows lower slightly. “But I don’t know how we’d be able to find the relative. That isn’t very much to go on,” he adds.
“This is true,” Taz nods. “Luckily, my progeny has very unique markings, which I’m certain come from the mother’s side. It might be possible to identify a relative that way,” Taz offers, fluffing his hair and wings, like my unique coloring is an affront to his Abdicated good looks and the neutral color palette that Heaven dipped him in when he was created.
“Hmm, that might be possible. Where’s the little one?” Louquin asks, looking around for what he expects to be a little kid.
Echo and I both snicker under our breaths. I step forward, my scythe still in Swiss Army battle mode, and wait for the Legion Major’s green eyes to settle on me.
When they do, I offer him a wide smile. “Hi, I’m Delta. Oh, and apparently I’m this asshole’s kid,” I add, just to be sure that everything sinks in. I gesture to Tazreel with my scythe and don’t miss the irritated look he shoots my way at my blatant disrespect in front of a friend. I give him a shrug. That should teach him to pop into bathrooms uninvited or describe me as a whelp.
“Wait...” Louquin stammers, wide eyes flicking from me to Tazreel. Taz gives a confirming nod.
The angel’s green eyes immediately hook back onto me, taking in my electric purple hair and wings before his disbelieving eyes move to my scythe. He takes in the details slowly, like the facts are puzzle pieces he’s trying to put together.
And then, the strangest thing happens. The last piece snaps into place, and realization comes with his mouth dropping open.
I watch as the blood completely drains from his face as recognition seeps into his dark green eyes.
That can’t be good.
19
“It can’t be,” Louquin states adamantly, but his new ghost-white pallor and the shocked set of his features tells a different story.
He looks back to Tazreel, but instead of the jovial light in his eyes and the sense of brotherhood that was just in his countenance, all that’s left now is astonishment and disapproval.
He shakes his head and manages to get a hold of himself. I watch a wall of detached professionalism slam down over his features as he steps back from Tazreel and turns to one of the soldier angels that are still in the room. “Private, bring the Colonel here immediately. If questioned, state simply that we have a situation that needs immediate attention, and you are following orders.”
The soldier angel salutes the Legion Major by tapping his fist to his chest twice and then spins on his heel and rushes out.
The Major’s green eyes flit to me and then quickly look away, as though my presence pains him. Unease wafts through me, but I feel a soothing caress run down my arm as one of Echo’s shadows traces the outline of my elbow. I look over to find his black eyes watching me with concern. I try to give him a small smile, but I know it doesn’t reach my eyes because I’m nervous as fuck.
Louquin knows who my relative on base is. And what he experienced when it dawned on him did not look like a welcome revelation. I feel a little bad for the way he just shut Tazreel out, but when I look over at my formerly loquacious father, he doesn’t seem like he has a care in the world.
I’m not sure I’m buying it.
“How old are you, child?” Louquin suddenly asks me.
“I’m twenty-eight.”
“In demon years?” he presses.
I let out a small huff. “No, in human years.” I turn to Tazreel. “What is a demon year, anyway?” I ask, realizing I still don’t