Unveilded by the Depths

The Judge

Dillon and Sebastian go after Carlos, leaving me with my wolf friends. But their eyes are constantly scanning the exterior of the SUV.

I decide to remain silent while looking for answers to how I can pop. "Talk to me. How can I pop? I am not fae after all, am I?"

"No. You are a minor goddess."

I cut her off, "Not yet."

She ignores me. "Because of your mother, you have access to some of your power now."

"But my mother doesn't share any DNA with me."

"You were in her womb. She gave you her blood to grow. You have her power. Only your sprite side locked it in so you can never use it with blood."

"Thank god," I breath in relief. My mother would never give up if she thought I had any of her power.

Both of my wolf protectors jump out of the SUV when the strangest sound I've ever heard suddenly blasts in my head.

I move more slowly, looking around, to try to understand. It must be a diversion. People don't scream in your brain while trying to sneak up on you. Do they?

A man, as big as Donavan, appears on my side of the SUV. He grabs both the guards, one hand wrapped around each of their necks.

"Don't kill them," I order, jumping between his arms to confront him. He must be the judge. Only that makes any sense. Which means he's only here for me. If I give him what he wants, he shouldn't hurt anyone else...I hope.

"Who are you to give me orders?" he asks with a rumble, even as he lets them drop to the ground. I take a quick glance and see they are still breathing.

"Think of it as my last request," I answer. The voice in my head surging, making my brain throb. "Who?"

"Excuse me?"

"If I'm going to die, don't I have a right to know who paid for it? Seriously, I'll take it to the grave."

His eyes widen. "What is wrong with you?"

"Me?"

"Most people cower or bluster. You aren't."

"Why? You are just going to kill me, right? No long hours of torture?"

"No, no torture."

"That's why. To be honest, except for the last two weeks, my life could be a textbook for physical and emotional abuse. Death is easy. It's life that's hard. So, really, you are not scary to me, sorry."

He takes a half step closer to me. So close, our bodies touch when I breathe. His head lowers, his nose sniffing my neck. First one side, then the other.

He jerks his head backs up and demands, "What are you?"

I glare at him, well and truly done. "I am not a what! My name is Nixie Ward. Why? Think you made a mistake?"

"Your mother is Becca Moore, father, Brandon Ward." He frowns, "Why aren't you a witch/wolf hybrid?"

"You can tell that? By sniffing me?" The irony of standing beside a road, with two unconscious wolves laying at my feet while discussing my parentage with some being who came here to kill me is not lost on me.

However, my voice is encouraging me to chat. "Answer his questions."

He snorts. "I can tell a lot of things."