Page 40 of Infernal Bindings

“Next time, I’ll turn on location sharing,” I say. “Wait—does location sharing work in Hell? Would it show up as this house the entire time or…” And then I glance between Christopher and Dad. “How did either of you know where to find me?”

“We’ll discuss that later,” Dad says. “In private. But for now—”

“For now, we need to focus on the flaming pile of shit Peter has dumped on my front door. I.e., the surveillance footage he stole from the baptism,” Daemon’s mom says, waving a jump drive in the air. What she doesn’t mention is who he stole it from; she doesn’t have to. Only the coven Regent—my mother now—has access to it.

She continues, “If we all drop what we’re doing, we can sort through it in a day or two, and then your mate can start investigating anyone who looks like they might be hiding an infernal tattoo.”

“It’s slower than the grounding stone,” Daemon argues, sliding my coffee to me.

“And safer,” Christopher counters. He takes a sip from his clear mug. It’s filled with what looks like dirty brown water mixed with herbs. A tea drinker. But nobody’s perfect. “The grounding stone can be Plan B. Unless you need to take my mate to a sex club again, I’d prefer it if you didn’t,” Christopher adds, his tone even and calm.

“Maybe your mate enjoyed it,” Daemon says, throwing the word back at him. “Maybe she prefers that method too.”

I flash Daemon a scathing look, but otherwise refuse to acknowledge him. I’m too hungover to deal with him right now. “Viewing the surveillance cameras makes the most sense. Who knows if the right incubus will even be at the club. We could miss him by poor timing or bad luck, but we’re not going to miss video footage.”

Daemon crosses his arms and scowls. “It seems I’m overruled.”

“Great.” Daemon’s mom stands from the table. I really wish I knew her name; it feels awkward now, still calling her that. Jump drive in hand, she starts walking toward the living room. “With that settled, I’ll set up a room for us to operate in. It should be ready in a couple of hours.”

“You’re helping too?” I ask, arching a brow. “But you hate me.”

She doesn’t deny it. “I’m helping my son. You’re just reaping the benefits.”

A moment later, she’s gone, leaving me with my dad, Daemon, and Christopher. No one speaks.

In the center of the kitchen table is a plate of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Head aching, I grab one before pulling up a chair. Rather than sit by any of the men, I choose my own side of the table, downing coffee while nibbling on the sticky sweet sandwich, hoping it’ll settle my upset stomach. It’s filled with grape jelly—the only kind worthwhile—and I know immediately Daemon was the one who made them.

As I snack, I catch Dad frowning at me. My outfit isn’t revealing, but every inch of it screams “Daemon.” And then I remember that he knows about the sex club, and I can no longer bring myself to meet his gaze. God, the last thing I want to do is talk about any of this with him, especially around Christopher.

He must sense that because a second later he clears his throat. “Both of you out. I need a moment alone with my daughter.”

The two don’t hesitate. Like the traitorous cowards they are, they vanish from the room, leaving me to deal with the fallout. Staring at my barely eaten sandwich, I wait for Dad to say something about my poor decision-making skills. But he doesn’t. His voice is low when he speaks. “Do you know why Minerva doesn’t like you?” he asks instead.

My gaze flicks to him, but I say nothing. So that’s her name.

“If Daemon loves you—”

“He doesn’t.”

“If Daemon loves you,” Dad continues, “this doesn’t end well for him. Say you complete your baptism, then what? The angels will forbid you from being romantically involved, and you’ll have to obey them. Now, say you don’t complete your baptism, then you’ll both be trapped in Hell for eternity, resenting each other. You’re his lifeline here. He needs you to be immortal so he can travel between the realms. If you’re dead or your bond is severed, he can be kept in Hell forever.”

“Oh.” It’s all I can say because I never really considered that. I thought Daemon was being cruel by keeping us tethered, but maybe it was never about me. Maybe it was about him—what his life would be like if I couldn’t summon him to me at will. An eternity around demons. Without his human friends. His mom. And now the Septem is trying to enforce that.

“I didn’t think…”

“And now you have a mate,” Dad adds. “You will be pulled toward Christopher forever. Nobody refuses the bond, Annie—not even a member of the Septem. Minerva knows this. She watched it happen with me.”

“You?” I stare at him like I’m seeing him for the first time. “You belonged to the Septem?”

“I did. Until I met your mother and the bond clicked into place.”

“But angels aren’t supposed to give mating bonds to Septem witches.”

He nods in agreement. “They aren’t. It violated the treaty, and there was immense fallout from it—for everyone involved. I’m glad you weren’t around to see what a true war between our factions looked like.” There’s a long pause. “I love your mother, Annie. I’m happy with her. But the mating bond cost me everything, in the same way that being with Daemon would cost you everything. And you could never truly be with him. Because of the bond, a piece of your heart will always belong to Christopher.”

I don’t want to talk about this anymore. I don’t want to think about it either. And yet I can’t help myself. “Why did the angels give you a bond if they knew it would start a war?”

Dad shrugs. “I can only speculate.”