Page 31 of Nightshade

“Will you show me how to get there?”

He nudged the tea tray aside and pushed to his feet. “I’m afraid this is where my charity ends, and you leave.”

“You showed my father, though.”

“Yes. And I do not expect that he will return.” Waving his hand, he ushered me to my feet, but I refused. I needed more answers.

“Then, it’s true! He’s there! Will he die? Will the Fallen kill him?” I asked urgently.

“The Fallen are certainly a threat to the poor uncorrupted souls who elect to go to Nightshade. But the most likely reason is that, in time, he will forget his life in this realm.”

“Forget? Everything?”

“Everything. You. Your mother. His purpose. That is how Nightshade works.”

“You’ve obviously been there before. And returned. How?”

“I come and go when necessary.” A grin stretched his lips at the same time a flicker in his eyes seized my attention, and I noticed as the ember-like colors of his irises turned obsidian black, before flicking back to their original color again.

On a gasp, I kicked backward, tumbling over a pillow, and quickly sat upright again. “What are you?”

“Relax. If I wanted to kill you, I certainly wouldn’t have entertained all these questions.”

“You’re not … you’re … what? What are you?”

“Cambion.”

“You were born half demon?”

“Not every cambion is born. Some are made.” He winked back at me. “Bad choices.”

Squeezing my eyes shut, I shook my head. “No. No, I don’t … I don’t believe …” I jumped to my feet and held the knife outward toward him. “I know I said I’d keep an open mind, but … I lied.”

His dark chuckle seemed to echo all around me, and I glanced over my shoulder, feeling like something was behind me. When I turned back to him, he was closer than before. Much closer.

“I just … want to leave. In one piece, okay?”

“Farryn, I am not troubled by you, and you should not be troubled by me. You walk amongst my kind every day without realizing it.”

My head spat images of the busy Chicago streets, and all the many people I’d often passed on campus.

“As I said. Relax. We tend to be a little more discriminating than you think.” Rolling his eyes, he spun around toward his kitchenette and plucked a small cluster of grapes from those in the bowl on the rolling island.

“You don’t want to kill me, then.”

“No. I’m not interested.”

“I’m glad. Really. But just out of curiosity, why?”

“Because your soul is … messy. I can’t really explain, but just know, I’ve no intention of killing you.”

Clearing my throat, I lowered my knife. “Okay, so … just … going back to the conversation.” Despite his assurance, I couldn’t relax my muscles, which still shook a little, poised for attack. “I need to help him. My father. If he’s there, I need to help him remember.”

“Nightshade is bigger than you imagine. You will never find him.”

“He went there to seek out a man named Van Croix. You seemed to recognize his name.”

“Who hasn’t heard of Van Croix.”