Page 14 of Gray Dawn
“No.” Dad bit off the word with a click of his teeth. “Do you have a solution or not?”
The quiver in his upper lip would have done any warg proud, and the Mayhews followed suit.
“Put him down.” I patted Dad’s shoulder to soften the order. “Let him speak.”
So far, we were two for two on killing me to break my connection with the Hunk. Not great odds. I knew Asa’s grandmother had my best interests at heart. This guy? Not so much. I wanted to hear his reasons.
“Another expert I consulted expressed concerns the artifact might view my death as a sacrifice. That it might grow more sentient as a result.” I grimaced as a fire lit within his gaze. “What do you think?”
“I confess—” Proctor coughed then rubbed his throat, “—it’s a possibility.”
“How likely is it?” I watched him consider his answer. “Spit it out, or I’ll let Dad finish the interrogation.”
“I would give it a seventy-five percent chance of increasing in power.” His tongue darted across his lips. “If you were to say, bleed out on it, after I slit your throat, that would shift the odds closer to ninety.”
A high-pitched scream was all the warning Bunny Blay gave before launching himself at Proctor.
This time, I was close enough to catch him midleap by the scruff and pin him against my chest.
“What’s wrong with that demon beast?” Proctor backed away. “Is it possessed?”
“He’s adaemon, actually.” I nodded to Dad then set Blay on the ground. “Do you mind?”
Crouching over Blay, Dad stroked his hand down the bunny’s spine, leaving a ripple of fire in its wake.
“Now that’s better.” Proctor leaned in. “Chargrilled rabbit is delicious.”
As the flames rose, creating a bonfire, Blay emerged in his usual hulking form with a vicious smile.
“Rock man touch Rue, Blay kill him.” His expression softened on me. “Like otdrels.”
Apparently, Blay was also a fan of the old standby. A gold standard in threats, really. A true classic.
“O-o-otdrels?” Proctor cringed away from Blay. “Thisthinghunts otdrels?”
“Thisthingis the love of my life.” A growl entered my voice. “Watch yourself.”
I knew I had made a mistake the second the words left my mouth, and Blay began preening.
“Rue love Blay more than Asa.” He handed me a section of his hair. “Asa wish Asa was Blay, but Asa not Blay. Sucks to be Asa.”
While I did my duty, stroking my fingers through his sleek hair, I nudged Proctor. “Well?”
While he had a healthy fear of Dad that was plain to see, Dad was a less imposing figure with his golden, cherubic curls and fitted clothes. Sometimes, with an enemy, a visual reminder of impending doom worked wonders.
“You don’t understand.” Proctor darted glances between Dad and Blay, and his fear left me curious how much of his magic was tied up in the grimoire for him to be so afraid of them and yet so willing to kill me to preserve it. “The only other option would result in destroying the artifact.”
“The artifact will be destroyed either way,” Dad told him, and there was no give in his tone.
“You can’t do that.” Proctor bristled. “You can’t neuter me for the rest of my life.”
“You gave up those spells, that magic, willingly. I haven’t done anything to you. You agreed to the terms.”
“It’s not the same for you,” he exploded. “You’re the strongest of us, even without the parts of yourself you bled out onto the page. You can afford to give up those pieces. I can’t. Not anymore.”
“If the choice is power or my daughter, I will always choose my child.”
“What kind of father would allow his child to fall into this trap in the first place?” Proctor laughed, its edge cutting. “You should have taught her better, if you wanted her to survive our world.”