Page 71 of Daughter of the Dark

The urge to defend herself was too great to ignore. “I know I’ve failed, but—”

“You didn’t just fail, Solana. You compounded your failures into a colossal threat. I’m assuming your father is out there?” When Solana only pressed her lips together in answer, he dropped his head and sighed, the sound more shaming than any words could be. “You couldn’t simply leave well enough alone.”

“I can stop him,” Solana said, surging forward two steps. King Killian didn’t so much as blink at her approach, though Reyes’s hand latched onto her forearm in warning. “I can fix all of it. Let me call him to me. I think I can siphon his power and reverse the curse.”

“No,” the king said sharply. “The man that has returned is not the same man you knew. The underworld will have warped his body and mind. You cannot trust a word he says.”

“Then I’ll kill him.”

“Solana,” Reyes whispered. His hand slid from her forearm to her wrist, fingers pressing against the pulse point as if to ground her. Or himself. She focused only on the king, whose icy attention darted from her raised arm to Reyes, searching for something she could only guess at, before coming back to settle on her. There was doubt in the lines between his brows.

“I’ve been hunting and killing demons for fourteen years. He is one man.” Solana lifted her arm and pointed at Reyes’s hand. “Send him with me. And the others. They’ll make sure I do what needs to be done.” Reyes pulled away, but the pressure of his touch lingered, as if her body remembered him and always would.

The king’s eyes bored into hers. Hands behind his back, he slowly paced around the table and came to a stop at her side. “Fine,” he finally said. A hand landed on her shoulder. “Do not disappoint me again, Solana. We cannot afford another failure.”

She fought the urge to shake off his hand. “And the curse?”

“What about it?”

Solana glanced at Reyes, who watched King Killian closely. “I’m close to figuring out how to reverse it. I need more power and time but—”

“What we need to worry about is cleaning up the mess that’s out there,” King Killian said. His hand squeezed her shoulder, fingers digging into flesh like a threat instead of a comfort. “Kill Masimu and contain the demons. Those are your priorities right now. The rest can be dealt with later. We still have many months together.”

The king wasn’t going to execute her for failing so spectacularly. There was time to make things right. “I understand, Your Majesty. I won’t fail again.”

One more squeeze, and then he strode out of the room. The pressure from his touch lifted and something loosened in her chest. His words came back to her, but in a different light. Threatening instead of comforting.

Though she hated to submit to his threats, she meant what she said. There was so much more at stake now that Sami was dead and his muki form was rotting beneath the castle. She had not broken her vow to him lightly. Either she figured out a way to reverse the curse, or she would release Sami with her dagger before she left Supay.

Solana just had to kill her father first. The man who had loved her and raised her and betrayed her by the age of seven. Who had turned his back on his family, his king, and his people, all in the pursuit of power. It was him who had pushed her toward a life of hunting and slaying, and now the very gift she had inherited would be used against him.

“So let me get this straight,” Nikolas said for the fourth time in a very short amount of time. “You tried to reverse the curse but actually did the exact opposite while also freeing your father from his underworld prison, and now you have to call him to you so that you can kill him?”

On the path in front of her, Oskar turned and paused. I don’t think this is a good idea, he signed, the words so similar to ones that Sami often said. Despite what he’s done, he’s your father. This should not be your responsibility.

“It’s my responsibility because he wouldn’t be free if it wasn’t for me. And I may be the only one strong enough to kill him.” If she could call him to her, who was to say that she wouldn’t be able to command him like she did the muki? Then she could order him to kneel and slice his throat before he could utter one single word. “All you need to worry about is keeping away any muki that might be attracted to the summons.”

“Oh, is that all?” she heard Suri mutter from somewhere behind her.

“It’ll be fine,” Cora whispered. “As long as you stay close by.”

“She will.” They were the first words Reyes had spoken since they left the council room and walked into the city, and he stared into her eyes as he said them. It wasn’t a suggestion, but a threat. “She won’t put anyone else in danger.”

Solana bit back the sharp retort on her tongue and freed her dagger from its sheath. The hilt was warm but not burning hot. “Switch,” she said, holding it out to Reyes. He raised an eyebrow at her. “Any blade will kill him.”

But Reyes pushed her hand away. “No more deaths than necessary tonight,” he said and turned, giving her his back. “Let’s get this over with.”

The others moved into their positions in a circle surrounding her. They were in an emptier part of the city that existed nearer to the forest than most people were comfortable with. The strangely hued sun had finally fallen and the night was quiet, save for the moans and growls of roaming muki that had managed to escape hunting Masters.

Rolling her shoulders back, Solana closed her eyes and blew out a breath. She focused on the beat of her heart, let it lull her into a calm that plunged her deeper into the center of her power. The warmth she usually felt pressed against her palm spread all over her body. She knew she could give a single command and muki would appear just as Sami had answered her. But it wasn’t muki she wanted—it was her father. A single human life in the sea of the dead.

When she found him, she gasped at the sensation.

“Solana.” It was Reyes, concern lacing her name. She held up a hand but said nothing, too afraid to break the growing connection to her father’s mind.

It didn’t feel chaotic or fragmented like she had assumed. There was a sense of overwhelming grief, but otherwise, it felt familiar. Comfortable, even. That was more terrifying than anything.

And it recognized her in return.