Demon Lost (High Demon #1)(46)
Author: Connie Suttle

"Did you have any feelings at all for Addah?"

"Teeg, I can’t really answer that. I think what I have mostly is regret. Regret that I couldn’t sit down and talk with him. Try to find out why things were the way they were with him. He didn’t trust any of his children. Or his wives, more than likely. And he treated me as someone unworthy of his time. Aurelius and I had a long conversation about that—about missed opportunity on both sides. That if Addah had just relented for a short time, we might have made a connection, as fragile as that might have been. Instead, we have nothing, my grandfather and I."

"Do you know who Griffin is?" Teeg said changing the subject.

"Griffin?" I hadn’t heard that name.

"He’s my grandfather," Teeg replied. "We have the same sort of relationship. He made a mistake with Mom, before I was born. Now, they don’t speak, and I’ve only seen him two or three times during my life."

"Have you tried approaching him? Talking to him?"

"No. He’s Wyatt’s father, by the way."

"Teeg, Wyatt doesn’t want to be Wylend’s heir."

"I know that. But Wylend and Griffin pretty much have their hearts set on it, so that’s that."

"You know as well as I do that Wyatt doesn’t want the throne. He wants to be a healer. If you want my opinion, here it is; Ry would be the King Karathia deserves. How long does Karzac intend to keep me out of action?" I said, changing the subject.

"He said two weeks at least."

"Damn," I sighed.

"What?"

"We need to be out there hunting the fool who’s killing those children," I muttered. "And the Ra’Ak and the Strands."

"I know," he growled miserably.

Chapter 11

"There’s a note with the flowers." Lok was sitting beside my bed after hauling in a huge basket of blooms. As security, he’d already checked them over, searching for listening devices or anything dangerous. Experiencing a bit of sadness over the fact that things had come to that, I accepted the card from Lok’s fingers. No expression lay on his face, but his black eyes were narrower than normal as I plucked the note from his fingers. His touch brushed against mine briefly as I took the card.

Lok has beautiful hands, even if they are scarred from holding blades, in and out of battles. His fingers are strong and calloused. At times, still, I wanted to know what those fingers might feel like if they held mine, or if they touched me with something other than indifference. Sighing, I lifted the square flap of the envelope—it was the palest pink. While everything else was paperless, cards were still around and expensive, because of their plant-based origins.

Reah, many of us in the family held our breath when you were attacked, and breathed a relieved sigh when we learned you would survive. I know this may be difficult for you to believe, but some of us truly do see things differently now. We greatly appreciate the gifts we received, and they will be utilized to support the family. It is an inevitability, I believe, that all six Desh’s will be forced to close. Many of our best recipes were kept in Addah’s memory, and number two and number three were already failing when he died. I suppose it is fitting, and perhaps justice for you that things are happening in this way. I watched the vid copy of Addah’s visit to Dee’s, especially the part where you told Fes and Aldah that they had a good mother and they didn’t appreciate her enough. Now I know why Fes called me shortly after that meeting and told me that he loved me. I continue to hope for a swift recovery for you, and wish to express my apologies for years of abuse and indifference on the part of the family. Sincerely—Farla Desh.

I was stunned. The note and the flowers were something I never expected to receive from my former family. I was still weak, but strong enough to write. Farla had included a comp-vid code at the bottom of the note. "Lok, can you get me a comp-vid?" I asked.

Lok didn’t reply, he pulled his own from a jacket pocket and handed it to me. He’d come in from outside, just to deliver the flowers and note to me. Now he watched me carefully, betraying no emotion as I took the comp-vid and punched in the code to send text messages only. I was wearied and only wanted to sleep afterward, but I’d written out eight of Addah’s most prized recipes on the comp-vid with a short note to Farla.

I worked these out several years ago, I informed her. Since they were Addah’s, I was never able to use them in any commercial manner—they were for my private use and for my own enjoyment. If you have trouble reproducing them, please let me know and I will be happy to come once I am released from the physician’s care, to demonstrate how to make them. I regret not knowing my family better in the past, but those opportunities have slipped away and left us all in a sadder place—Reah.

"Fes!" Farla shouted. "Fes!"

"Mother?" Fes had just risen—he’d been released from the hospital before Addah’s funeral—the hospital staff had been amazed at his near-miraculous recovery. He still tired easily, however, and wouldn’t return to work for at least two Eight-Days.

"Fes, I sent flowers and a note to Reah," Marzi exclaimed excitedly. "I told her about the family’s situation and that Desh’s was likely to close because Addah left us the way he did without giving up his secrets. Look at this, Fes—Reah wrote me back!" Fes still didn’t understand until he accepted his mother’s comp-vid and stared at the first recipe for yellowfish in wine sauce—Reah had written that one and seven others.

"Mother, I want her to come. I want to watch her cook," Fes declared, sorting through the recipes. "Look—here’s the sliced beef in bittersweet sauce!"

"That always takes forever to cook and Addah wouldn’t let anyone in the kitchen," Farla reached for the comp-vid. "I want her to come, too. I want to see this."

"Then answer her—there’s a code listed here," Fes scrolled down to the end of the message.

"Reah my love, what is the meaning of this?" Lendill was wiggling my comp-vid in his hand and frowning at me.

"Is that where it was? I had to borrow Lok’s earlier," I grumbled, reaching out in an attempt to snatch it away. A message waited for me; I could see it on the screen.

"Now see, if you were in better shape, you’d have had this in your hand and I’d be staring at an empty palm," Lendill was teasing me with it still.

"Lendill, please shut up and hand me that," I muttered in irritation. I was sitting precariously on a stool in the huge kitchen, where Radolf had served up a better-quality broth this time, with onion, a hint of spice and bits of beef. I kissed him for his efforts after my first bite. He was going back to Le-Ath Veronis just as soon as he fed me—Ilvan was busy doing prep work in Lissa’s kitchen and Edan was already in Karzac’s medical classes.