Jaden tsked. "And to think I've always heard how wonderful Southern hospitality is. Guess that's only for humans." His eyes faded back to their normal color. "Our bargain is met, Xypher."
Jaden tapped his shoulder twice with his fist, gave a short, mo clang bow, and vanished.
Simone tinned on him. "Why didn't you let me scratch his eyes out?"
"Because he would have ripped your head off before you got near him."
She shook her head in disbelief. "You're a god. How powerful can he be in comparison?"
"Powerful enough to kill me and you with nothing more than a thought."
Simone paused as she realized he wasn't kidding. "I don't understand."
"The universe has order, Simone. At the end of the day, we all answer to someone. While gods are all-powerful, we have limitations. A creature like Jaden can kill us and absorb our powers for himself."
"Then why doesn't he?"
"My guess is he, too, has limitations on what he can and can't do."
"Set by whom?"
"That's the question, isn't it? I don't know the answer, and I don't know anyone who does."
She wiped at the comer of her eye as she left him to look at the photographs of her family on her mantel. "Do you think my father knew and understood what he was doing when he summoned Jaden?"
"Probably. Most demons do. Even though we're raised aware of the fact that he's our bogeyman, Jaden usually explains the drawbacks of a bargain to those who make it. I may not like him, but as a rule, he is fair and impartial. . . even when he's being intolerant."
Simone turned to face him. "He didn't tell you about the amulet and what it did."
She had a point. Jaden had hidden that knowledge from him. "No, he didn't, which tells me it must be important to him on a personal level."
Simone barely heard those words. Honestly, she didn't care about Jaden and his desires; or wants. What mattered was the fact that her family had died.
And he'd played a part in it.
I'm a demon . . .
Those words kept chasing themselves around in her head. How could this have happened? How could she not have known? Suspected something. . .
"There's a special fire inside you, angel," her father had once said. "One day you'll understand it. "
Was this what he'd meant?
She looked at Xypher, needing answers she doubted she'd ever have. "Why would my father have killed himself? Wouldn't he have been better off protecting me while alive?"
"I'm sure he was thinking of the fact that he hadn't been able to protect your mother or brother."
"I needed my father!"
Xypher flinched. The pain in her voice tore through him. He'd never wanted to comfort anyone before, but right now, he'd give anything to ease the anguish he saw in her hazel eyes.
He gathered her in his arms and held her close. "I know."
She shook her head against his chest. "Do you know how hurt I was that Jesse came to me and not my family? Over the years I've seen hundreds of ghosts. But never my mother or father. Never my brother. Didn't they love me enough to at least say good-bye?"
His gut tightened in sympathy for her pain. "Of course they did, Simone. How could they not? Your father died to protect you. That is real, true love."
"Then why haven't they ever come to me?"
"I don't know. I don't. Maybe they couldn't." "Because they didn't care."
"I'm sure that's not it."
Simone wanted to believe that, but it was hard. And in all these years, she'd never shared that with anyone. She'd always kept it bottled up where it incinerated her soul squeezing her eyes shut, she forced herself to stop these thoughts. They were counterproductive.
What was done was done.
Surely Xypher was right and they would have come to her had they been able. But there was still that part of herself that doubted. That part of her that felt as if no one had ever loved her.
At least Xypher was here.
Their bracelets were gone. He could leave anytime he wanted to, but so far he hadn't.
Her stomach jerked from her nerves and grief. She pulled back, afraid of the sensation. "I still feel sick. How long is this going to last?"
"Until you get used to your powers. I imagine."
She didn't like the sound of that. She wanted something concrete she could put her hands on. Something tangible. "I can hear your heartbeat. Jesse is in his room with Gloria, showing her how to play Atari. My neighbor on the right is fighting with his wife over the phone, and my newest one, the woman on the left, is hungry. How do I know all that?"