Page 91 of What The Hex (The Family Spells)
“Are you saying my sperm donor used his … whatever the fuck that glowing white-silver glitter shit is, on my mother?”
“He did. He rolled her so thoroughly that she’ll never recover,” Monster added, shifting his attention over to Grace as Argent stepped forward and put himself between the two of them. He was breathing so hard I thought that he might pass the hell out.
Rolled her. Meaning that he used his pheromones and his magic on her so often and so heavily that she could never fully come out of that trance. Just as Monster had nearly done to Grace. When he’d given her over to Argent, she’d been on the brink of never coming back.
I swallowed hard against the rage that rose up inside of me. Caine and Argent accused me of being too nice all the time, but in reality, it was just that with so many strong personalities involved in this relationship, there was no room for me to be angry.
Grace is the one who suffered; Argent saw it firsthand; Caine was a hothead; Hex was standing there in shock and horror at this news about his mother.
“All my life, I …” he began, shaking as he turned back toward the door, staring at it as if he was planning on going somewhere.
“You can’t leave,” I reminded him, and he whipped that orange gaze over to me before looking back at Monster. I imagine he’d spent much of his life running from problems. Not this time, not ever again. I crossed my arms over my chest in a no-nonsense pose.
“All my life,” he repeated, forcing himself to slow and take a deep breath. “I’ve cursed her. I’ve hated her. I’ve said every mean thing I could possibly think of on the few occasions that I actually saw her in person. All that time, she was suffering because of something your father did to her?”
“That’s correct.” Monster looked from Argent to Hex. “Now, when I say that I wish to kill him, do you concur? Or would you rather marry Violet, allow him to abdicate the throne so he can spend even more of his days reveling in debauchery, and take over in his place? Hael is lovely this time of year; the black tulips are in bloom.”
Something about what Monster just said had Grace cringing, the house creaking, and Bastet hissing from her place at the top of the stairs. She watched Monster intently, green eyes blazing. He’d kept Bast locked in a literal cage that last week that he and Grace were together; she’d never forgive him for that either.
“I don’t want to be the demon king.” Hex’s voice was a near whisper. “What I do need to do is talk to my fucking grandmother.”
“Maybe,” Monster agreed, and then he looked back at Argent. “But first, we need to make sure you’re bound to Graceley and more difficult to summon. After that, you will need to pay her a visit. Her … or your mother.”
“And why is that?” Grace asked, moving around Argent so that she could look at Monster directly. In the background, the sound of Christmas carols leaked out from the kitchen along with the kids’ laughter.
“The spell to seal the Fire Veil is specific, complicated, and time-consuming.”
“No shit,” I breathed with a shake of my head. “Removing the curse from Grace’s mother was tough enough. What the hell is it this time? Demon piss? Demon penis bones? Broom dust from the floor of Hael’s Infernal Palace?”
Monster offered up a patronizing smile.
“We need artifacts—one from each of your families. Something old and freely given.”
Each of our families?
Oh. Oh no. No. No fucking way.
Did this cocksucking demon dickhead just tell me we had to visit each of our families for the holidays? Never in my life had I heard something that sounded so goddamn horrifying. My mother … mm. Nope. She was the crown princess of Kingdom Noir, the very kingdom I’d betrayed in my search for stardom.
Goddamn it, Spectre. Here’s your past, ready to bite you right in the ass.
Fitting, I guess, considering the number of people I’d bitten over the years. Even now, the arteries in Hex’s neck were throbbing along with his rapid heartbeat, calling to me. Our dog popped his head into the room, stared right at me accusatorily, and then took off with his head hanging low.
He hated vampires now, after the Zavier blood-drinking incident. Not that I blamed him. I could hear every heartbeat in that room, the shoosh and pulse of blood in everyone’s veins and arteries, the smell of it. I gritted my teeth and tried to ignore the dark and violent instincts singing siren songs to me. I was weak from the spell; I definitely needed to drink more.
Grace’s emerald gaze slid my way, and I thought back to the last time I’d seen my grandmother, the Queen of Kingdom Noir. All vampires belonged to ‘kingdoms’, each with a different name and slightly different customs. But the politicking between them, that was paramount. At all times, that’s what mattered most.
