And none of that seemed important right now, not after learning about my father. I wiped under my eyes with my palms. “Sorry for… crying all over you.”

“Never apologize for that,” he said. I expected him to let go of me at that point, but his arms were still around me. I knew I shouldn’t, because it would just bring a world of hurt later, but I let myself relax against him. “You have this knee-jerk reaction to everything.”

“What?”

He lowered an arm and tapped my knee. “It’s the first initial response. The immediate thought when you hear something. You act on that instead of thinking things through.”

I burrowed my cheek against his chest. “That’s not a compliment.”

His hand moved to the back of my neck, fingers tangling deep in the mess of hair at the nape of my neck. Wondering if he was aware of what he was doing, I held my breath. His hand tightened, holding me so I couldn’t pull back too far. Not that I would—no matter how wrong it was, how dangerous or stupid.

“It’s not an insult,” he said softly. “It’s just who you are. You don’t stop to think of the danger, only what is right. But sometimes it’s not…right.”

I mulled that over. “Was using compulsion on Dawn and the other pure a knee-jerk reaction?”

He took what seemed like forever to answer. “It was, and it wasn’t the smartest thing to do, but I couldn’t do anything else.”

“Why?”

Aiden didn’t answer.

I didn’t push it. There was a comfort in his arms, in the way his hand traced a soothing circle along my back, that I couldn’t find anyplace else. I didn’t want to ruin it. In his arms, I was calmer—strangely. I could breathe. I felt safe, grounded. No one else offered that. His was like my very own prescription of Ritalin.

“Becoming a Sentinel was a knee-jerk reaction,” I whispered.

Aiden’s chest rose and fell under my cheek. “Yeah, it was.”

“Do… do you regret it?”

“Never.”

I wished I had his kind of resolve. “I don’t know what to do, Aiden.”

His chin tipped down, brushing over my cheek. His skin was smooth, warm, thrilling, and calming all in one. “We’ll figure out a way to get in touch with him. You said he never seemed like he was under the elixir? We could get a letter to Laadan; she could pass it to him. That would be the safest step.”

My heart did a stupid, happy dance. Hope was spreading out of control inside me. “We?”

“Yes. I can easily get a letter to Laadan—a message. It’s the safest way for right now.”

I wanted to squeeze him, but refrained. “No. If you get caught… I can’t have that happening.”

Aiden laughed softly. “Alex, we’ve probably broken every rule there is. I’m not worried about getting busted over passing on a message.”

No, we hadn’t broken everyrule.

He pulled back slightly, and I could feel his intense stare on my face. “Did you think I wouldn’t help you with something as important as this?”

I kept my eyes closed, because looking at him was a weakness. Hewas my weakness. “Things are… different.”

“I know things are different, Alex, but I will always be here for you. I will always help you.” He paused. “How can you ever doubt that?”

Like a fool, I opened my eyes. I was sucked right in. It was like everything that’d been said, everything I knew, didn’t matter anymore. “I don’t doubt that,” I whispered.

His lips tipped up on one side. “Sometimes I just don’t get you.”

“I don’t get myself half of the time.” I lowered my eyes. “You’ve already done… too much. What you did in the Catskills?” I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Gods, I never thanked you for it.”

“Don’t—”

“Don’t say it’s not worth thanking you for.” My gaze flicked up, locking with his. “You saved my life, Aiden, at the risk of your own. So, thank you.”

He looked away, his eyes focusing on a spot over my head. “I told you I’d never let anything happen to you.” His gaze came back to me and amusement sparkled in those silver pools. “It seems more like a full-time job, though.”

My lips quirked. “I’ve really been trying, you know. Today was the first day I even did anything remotely stupid.” I left out the part where I’d been sequestered in my room with a nasty head cold.

“What did you do?”

“You really don’t want to know.”

He laughed again. “I figured Seth would be keeping you out of trouble.”

Realizing I hadn’t even thought about Seth since the moment I’d read the letter, I stiffened. I hadn’t even thought about the bond. Dammit.

Aiden drew in a deep breath and dropped his arms. “You do know what this means, Alex?”

I struggled to pull myself together. There were important things to deal with. My father, the Council, Telly, the furies, a dozen or so pissed off gods, and Seth. But my brain felt like mush. “What?”

Aiden glanced at the door, as if he was afraid to say it out loud. “Your father wasn’t a mortal. He’s a half-blood.”

CHAPTER 3

I DIDN’T GO BACK TO MY CLASSES. INSTEAD, I WENT TO my dorm room and sat on my bed, the letter resting in front of me like a snake ready to spread its venom. I was reeling from learning that my dad was still alive and…. I felt so stupid for not figuring it out right away. Laadan’s letter didn’t come out and say it. Obviously, I understood why she skirted the true bomb she was dropping in the brief letter. How else would the Council have been able to get my father under control? And I’d seen him fight. He was like a ninja with those candleholders.

My father was a freaking half-blood—a trainedhalf-blood. Hell, he’d probably been a damn Sentinel, which totally explained how my mom had known him before she met Lucian.

A half-blood.

So what in the holy Hades did that make me?

The answer seemed too simple. I flopped on my back, staring blindly at the ceiling. Gods, I wanted Caleb to talk this through with, because this couldn’t be what it was.

A pure-blood who had children with other pures made happy, little pure babies. A pure-blood who got it on with a mortal created the ever-useful half-blood. But a pure-blood and a half-blood getting together—which was so forbidden, so taboo that I couldn’t think of one situation where a child was actually produced—made… what?

I jerked straight up, heart thundering. The first time Aiden had been in my dorm room and I’d looked at him—well, I’d been ogling him, but whatever—and wondered why relationships between halfs and pures had been forbidden for eons. It wasn’t the fear of a one-eyed Cyclops, but it kind of was.

A pure-blood and a half-blood made an Apollyon.

“Shit,” I said, staring at the letter.

But it had to be more than just that. There was typically only one Apollyon born every generation, with the exception of Solaris and the First, and Seth and I. Which would mean a half and a pure only produced a child a handful of times since the time the gods had walked this earth. There had to be more times when it happened. Or were those babies killed? I wouldn’t put it past the pures or the gods to do such a thing if they knew what could come from the joining of a pure and a half. But why had Seth and I been spared? Obviously they knew what my father was since they’ve kept him around for whatever reason. My heart clenched, as did my fists. I pushed the anger down to revisit later. I’d promised Aiden I wouldn’t do anything reckless, and my anger always led to something idiotic.

A shiver inched its way down my spine. A sound came from my door, much like a lock being turned. I glanced at the letter, chewing my bottom lip. Then I looked at the clock beside the bed. I was way late for training with Seth.