“I see that neither of you have obeyed me,” he said in the mildest of tones. But the waters that weren’t really there rippled as if his anger was a strong current.

“Father,” I said, choosing the form of address I never used to his face. Then I got off Dagon since he wouldn’t dare try anything now. “Dagon has taken someone precious from me. I need your help to get him back.”

He said only, “Who murdered all these?” with a glance at the shards littering us and the many skeletons I now couldn’t see.

“She did!” Dagon said at once. Then he got up and flung the excess bone fragments off his clothes for emphasis. “She killed every last one of my loyal servants!”

“Who you brought with you so you could kill me,” I countered.

His icy blue gaze had regained most of its arrogance now that he no longer had a bone knife against his only remaining eye. “No. I told them not to kill you. Deny that, if you dare.”

“Did I forget the part where you were trying to enslave me to use my blood as your latest drug trade?” I said caustically. “He came for the Simargyl,” I told the Warden, who watched us silently. “You revoked his ownership of Silver and gave him to me, but Dagon used a trace on Silver’s blood to ambush us. I killed those demons in self-defense.” Mostly true.

“You lured me here!” Dagon sputtered. “You had traps—”

“Enough.” The Warden’s command made Dagon clamp his mouth shut. I would have enjoyed that, but I was too desperate.

“Dagon killed my companion.” I fought the lump in my throat as pain of a different kind strafed me. Not physical, yet in its own way, more intense than what I’d felt when I’d been drawing the symbols. “But you can bring him back.”

The Warden gave me a diffident glance. “If you’re referring to the man who was with you before, he did not pass through my section of the Netherworld.”

“No, he didn’t,” I agreed. Dagon glared at me, silently warning me to say no more. “Dagon kept his soul inside him instead of sending it on.”

The Warden was silent again. Moments turned into minutes. I wanted to demand he say something, but I didn’t. Dagon wasn’t the only one who kept glancing at the waters beneath the Warden’s boat. They weren’t rippling anymore. They were roiling.

“If that is true,” the Warden finally said, “all I can do is free his soul to send it to the destination meant for it.”

“No,” I said at once. “Dagon tricked him into dealing it away. If you send his soul on, you condemn him.”

“I condemn no one.” Was that a hint of weariness is his tone? “I only guard the gateway to the side of the netherworld assigned to me. Whoever passes through it has already sealed their own fate.”

I was about to rail at him. Then I remembered what I’d felt when my other nature had been in control. That half came from him, so it stood to reason that it was a milder version of his mentality, psyche, whatever. If so, sentiment meant nothing. I’d have to use something else to sway him.

What would resonate with the Warden, if emotions were irrelevant? Balancing the scales? My other half hadn’t felt grief over Ian, but it had taken offense at being robbed of what I considered mine. It had also felt that killing Dagon and his men was the appropriate response. If my father had a similar sense of obligatory recompense, maybe I could shift it . . .

“I brought you valuable information about Dagon hoarding souls, and you give me nothing in return,” I said. “Your unpaid debt to me stands that much taller.”

“Oh?” The faintest hints of disbelief—or was it scorn?—tinged the Warden’s tone. “What unpaid debt?”

“I am your progeny.” Modern speech failed me in my urgency. “Dagon had me raped, tortured, and murdered for decades, but you gave him the lightest of reprimands by disallowing him further human worship. That is your oldest debt to me. Dagon took your obvious disregard for your progeny as weakness and began keeping some of the souls he was supposed to deliver through your part of the netherworld. Moreover, when he found out I was still alive, he ignored your command and set out to re-enslave me. Even if I also disobeyed your command, I did so after thousands of years. Dagon’s contempt of you is so great, he disobeyed you mere days after discovering I still lived. And now I get no recompense for bringing all this to your attention?”

The Warden’s silver gaze landed on Dagon. The demon took a step backward—and my father’s hand rammed into his chest, disappearing inside Dagon’s body. Dagon shuddered, his single eye glowing such a bright shade of red, I thought it might spontaneously combust.

“She speaks the truth.” The Warden’s voice rose until it boomed as he withdrew his hand. “You are filled with souls.”

Now I knew my father’s voice sounded like thunder when he was angry. Dagon dropped to his knees, either in fear or pain since he continued to shudder as if my father’s hand was still feeling around inside his chest. “My lord Warden, I—”

I clutched my hands over my ears at what came out of the Warden’s mouth. It was too loud, too awful, too crowded, as if every voice trapped in the worst part of the Netherworld had screamed all at once. Then he shut his mouth and that horrifying sound was replaced with silence heavy enough to suffocate.

Chapter 44

“You have indeed done well,” the Warden said, turning to me. It was praise I’d never heard from him. “Dagon will be punished. You will never see him again.”

In that moment, I was genuinely afraid of him. Whatever my father was—a lesser god, different sort of demon, former or current angel, other type of celestial being, ancient alien for all I knew—his power defied comprehension.

Tenoch had been right to warn me against letting that half of myself fully out. Maybe there wasn’t anything inherently evil about it, but that much power was dangerous when it didn’t come with a normal conscience. It was like a bomb. Drop it on the right target, and it could save lives. Drop it on the wrong one . . .

“My lord!” Dagon cried. Then he fell forward, clutching his head the way I had when the Warden had let out that otherworldly roar. From the way Dagon rocked and moaned, it was as if he were hearing it directly into his head.

“What about Ian’s soul?” I asked.

The Warden’s gaze turned fathomless. For an instant, I felt the same mindless, helpless feeling I had in dreams when I was falling from a great height and knew nothing could save me. Then he blinked and I was staring into bright beams of silver again.

“He goes where he has sent himself, as does Dagon.”

My emotions cleaved. Dagon would finally get the justice he deserved. Everyone I’d promised to avenge would be avenged. I would be avenged. Ian would, too, but he wouldn’t be at peace. No, if I let my father do this, Ian would be worse off than he had been when he’d almost died in the Australian outback as a human.

Ever been lost? Ian had roughly asked when speaking of that time. The worst part was knowing no one cared enough to save you. That’s what you remember forever. Not the physical pain or the never-ending fear, but the despair of being utterly alone and knowing you’ll die that way . . .

Ian was lost like that now. He’d stay lost that way forever, unless I did something very reckless with the most powerful being I’d ever encountered. One who didn’t feel a shred of love for me because his nature wasn’t wired that way.