Slaughter Daughter by Eve Langlais
38
Who knew?A bullet between the eyes could kill a demon. Also good to know was the fact that spells died with their creator.
As Selena dropped, so did I. Lucky me, I landed beside Selena’s face. Her surprised expression stared at me. Her mouth was open as if to exclaim, only she’d never breathe again.
I’d come close to death before in the lab. Refrigerated or defrosting specimens. Nothing like a real and fresh corpse eyeing you accusatorily. You or me, bitch. Glad it was you.
There was a commotion.
“Who shot her?”
“Hey, it’s that guy who’s been hanging around Abby.”
“Cashien and Jag, with me. Let’s see what Braedon knows,” Professor-Daddy said.
But Jag declined. “I gotta check on Abby.”
Recovered from my ignoble fall, I pushed to my feet. I felt the edge of the knife that’d almost killed me and gripped it. It tingled in my grasp, and the stings in my palms—rudely abused for a second time tonight—stopped hurting. As I turned to see my friends approaching, my blade hummed, and I’d have sworn it shouted, “Hungry!”
You are not eating my friends. I tucked it into my pants before eyeing Kalinda and Mary, who converged on me with Jag. They didn’t look like demons.
“Why are you eyeing me like that?” Kalinda snorted. “Did I get a smudge on my face? Is my hair messed up?” She reached to stroke it.
“You’re a demon.” Felt like I should get that point out of the way.
“And?” Kalinda rolled her shoulders.
“Doesn’t that make you evil?”
“Do I look evil?” she asked, batting the lashes I envied.
“Not anymore you don’t. But earlier, you were scary as fuck.” It was an honest admission, to which Kalinda laughed.
“Always remember, evil depends on what side you’re on.” Mary’s sage offering.
“I don’t think there was a side where Selena wasn’t evil.” Kalinda grimaced at the body.
“This needs to be removed before the sleepy spell on campus lifts.” Jag toed the body, and I winced.
“Don’t look at me.” Kalinda lifted her chin. “I just had my nails done.”
Mary almost appeared to shrink as she gave her excuse. “My chiro says I should avoid heavy lifting.”
Jag huffed. “For fuck’s sake.” He whistled. “Cash, I need a hand.”
Cashien jogged over and didn’t ask questions. Apparently, they did this kind of thing often given how seamlessly they set into motion the cleaning of the crime scene.
Cashien and Jag carried off the body while Kalinda and Mary scrubbed, Mary moving her hands in a way that pulled water from the nearby pond and sprayed the ground. Kalinda went around zapping the security cameras that had documented our actions, frying the systems. Mary would wipe any additional records clean as soon as they finished here.
I felt useless and in the way as they worked, but I remained watching, avoiding the professor and Braedon, who still held his smoking gun. Surely, I’d been mistaken about the professor being my daddy. He’d probably spoken that way to lull Selena into a false sense of security.
I had to find out for sure. Reluctantly, I moved in their direction.
“That was quite the act you pulled.” My weak attempt to find out the truth without sounding crazy.
The prof’s lips turned down. “I think you know by now that wasn’t an act, Abby girl.”
“You expect me to believe you’re my father?”
He nodded.
“How?”
“That’s vague as questions go, but if you mean the face”—he rubbed his jaw—“I used the same kind of magic Selena employed to change her appearance.”
“Demon magic that needs a sacrifice.”
It took him a second before he nodded sharply. “Killing to absorb the power of death is what our kind does. It strengthens us. But at the same time, we have to temper our impulses because too much death drives you mad. Like Selena.”
It explained a little but not the thing I wanted to know most. “Why did you abandon me?”
For a second, his mouth worked. “Because I was dumb.”
The worst and best answer he could have given.
When I didn’t reply, he spread his hands. “When Selena framed your mother and me, we had to go. We meant to return for you when things died down, only I went out for supplies one day, and Selena caught your mother. Next thing I knew, the papers had us listed as dead. I thought…” He paused. “I thought if I went along with it, you’d have a chance for a normal life. A safe one.”
“The media named me Slaughter Daughter.”
“I know.”
“It followed me everywhere. Ruined my life. Made me a pariah. You left me alone.” The betrayal burned.
He rolled his shoulders. “And for that, I’m sorry. I know I can’t erase what happened, but I’m here now. If you’ll give me another chance.”
I wanted to say no. To tell him to go to Hell. But even in another body, it was still my dad. “Fine, but I don’t suppose you can change into something a bit uglier. Because I want to gag now that I thought of you for even a second as the hot professor.”
His lips twisted. “I can see that might be a problem. How about I return to the face you know already?”
My expression lightened. “Can you?” Only to grimace as I said, “Will you have to kill someone?”
He hesitated before nodding.
Did it matter that much? “Can you at least make sure it’s a bad guy?” Then it could be considered a civic duty.
He grinned. “I smell a Marvel marathon coming on.”
“No.” I groaned. At last count, there were over thirty hours of it. His offer just further proved the impossible. My dad was alive.
And a demon.
“Shall we go home?” he asked.
“Wasn’t it attacked by flying monkeys?”
He grimaced. “Don’t remind me. The kitchen is a mess, but the rest of the house is fine.”
“Okay.”
“Okay?” Braedon, silent until now, blurted out, “You can’t go anywhere with him. Professor Santino just admitted he’s a demon who kills people. They all do.”
“It’s not ideal,” I admitted with a shrug. Perhaps my study of death had made me more nonchalant in the face of it. The planet did have issues with overcrowding, and some people were a waste of space.
“Not ideal?” Braedon exclaimed. “They’re murderers. Selena lied to me. She told me demons were just like us, but with magic. She never said that magic came at the cost of someone’s life.”
“Is that really how it works?” I asked my dad, knowing the answer but wanting confirmation.
He glanced at Braedon and nodded. “The spark that inhabits living flesh is power. All death feeds the magic, with humans offering the strongest boost.”
“You killed before arriving. That’s why they were stalling,” I surmised.
Professor-Daddy nodded. “I didn’t want to be weak when facing her. I have much to tell you, but we should move. This location has to be scrubbed.” He then glanced at Braedon. “Remember what I told you.”
“I remember. If I talk, I’ll die, too,” he said sullenly.
“Don’t forget it.” Then the professor eyed me. “Let’s go, Abby.”
Braedon stepped between us. “Don’t, Abby. I know you’re not okay with this.”
“Leave her alone.” Professor-Daddy intervened, but this was one battle I didn’t need help with.
“I’m fine. Let me talk with Braedon for a minute. Go to the car. I assume it’s parked by the dorm. I’ll meet you there in a minute.”
I waited until my dad was out of earshot before starting. “Listen, Braedon—”
He didn’t listen. He grabbed me and kissed me thoroughly.
And then he wasn’t anymore, as Jag tore him from me, roaring, “Get the fuck away from her.”
“Or what? You’ll kill me? Look at him, Abby.” Braedon pointed. “See what he is. Is that really what you want?
Jag’s shoulders rounded, and his features lost some of their sharpness.
“Walk away from him,” Braedon urged, holding his gun on Jag. “I’ll keep you safe. Together, we’ll make sure these demons don’t kill any more.”
“How?” I asked.
“By exposing them to the world.”
“You can’t do that,” Jag growled. “You’ll kill us all.”
“Exactly. Maybe I’ll start with you. After all, I’ll need proof.” Braedon smirked, and I knew in that moment he’d actually shoot Jag.
“Don’t.” I stepped between them. “You’ll make a mess, and people might not understand.”
“Is that the reason, or do you still care for him?” Braedon asked, the gun waving around.
“If I cared for him, would I be leaving with you?” I said as I walked to Braedon. I could feel Jag’s hurt. Saw Braedon’s triumph.
The golden human versus the dark demon.
The choice had never been clearer. I reached Braedon and hugged him, whispering, “I’m sorry.” Because he’d forgotten one crucial thing.
I was half-demon, and I had a knife.
