Blood of the Devil

Chapter 19 - Hold Onto Your Cowbell, Bessie

After Mickey dug the skewers out of the vampire, Archer disappeared into the dying night. The boy trudged back inside, sinking into the lounge to stare at Letha. She studied the ceiling, ignoring his questioning gaze, and they remained that way as the sun rose.

When most of the mist had shrunk away from the doors and windows, Cassie slinked into the room. Her pale hair was swept to one side, and her fingers worried at a large knot. As the wisps became even more entangled, she gave up with a huff, glaring at Letha.

“Great,” she growled, “you’re still here.”

Dragging her eyes down to the woman’s, Letha snarled, but didn’t reply. Gabe rounded the corner, his hair tousled, and the siblings had never looked more different. Where Cassie was sharp, all hard edges and frowns, her brother was smiling broadly, only half awake.

“Good morning,” he said cheerfully.

Both females shot him deadly looks.

Mickey licked his lips, rolling his eyes at them all, “Morning, Gabe. How’d you sleep?”

“Like a baby,” his foster brother assured him, “and how was your night?” He glanced quickly at Letha.

Before he replied, the boy shot a look at the front door, as if there was still a man pinned just outside. “It was interesting.”

The rest of the family appeared in the kitchen archway, cutting off Gabe’s reply. Wiping sleep from his eyes, Zach’s expression faded as he saw Letha. He made a sound and stormed back in the direction he came from. Hadrian filled his place. He smiled timidly at his sister, and Letha’s frown deepened.

“Where did you sleep last night?” she asked curtly, fisting her hands on her hips.

“Mickey’s bed.”

The owner of said room smiled sheepishly when Letha’s gaze flickered to him. He couldn’t tell whether her stare was accusatory or thankful. As he pursed his lips, Mickey doubted if Letha was ever truly thankful.

“And where did you sleep?” She pressed, raising a slim brow.

“Sleep?” Mickey chuckled, running a hand through his hair, “I spent several hours convincing a certain someone that it was not a sign of weakness to rest on a couch, several hours sitting on the porch talking to a species I didn’t know existed until a few hours before, and this morning having a staring contest with the whites of your eyes.”

Azrael’s mouth snapped closed, and he swallowed heavily. “Perhaps we should have some breakfast. Maybe sit down and talk some things through?”

Letha’s eyebrows descended like furious storm clouds. “You want us to sit around a table, share a meal, and maybe break some bread? I think not!”

Azrael, Cassie and Mickey each opened their mouths, but it was Hadrian who replied, stepping close to his sister.

“Letha!” he hissed, angling his head towards hers. Wrapping his fingers around her elbow, Hadrian tugged Letha to the side. “What are you doing?”

“We are not staying, Hadrian.”

Her brother’s fingers tightened, making Letha wince.

“And why is that?” he demanded, giving her elbow a shake, “Because you say so? I think there’s enough dictators in our family, sister.”

Letha’s chin rose, and she glared at the boy. “They’re angels, Hadrian. I refuse to be indebted to them.”

“And what are we at the moment, Letha?  They found us looking in their window late at night so they fed us,” he grinned for a heartbeat, “well, me, and then put us up for the night. And you have done nothing but insult them. What’s wrong with you?”