My fourth father, Percival the Pixie King, stared down at me from his perch in a tree.

“Hey, Papa Percy,” I gave him a small wave. “Gotta admit, I’m not sure what kind of virtue you’re supposed to teach me.”

Pixies weren’t exactly virtue oriented beings. They were pranksters, lovers, and artists.

“Who says it always has to be woo-woo virtues?” Papa Percy smirked at me. That’s why I loved him. He didn’t take anything—even the spirit realm—seriously. “That’s not what I signed up for. In case you forgot, your mother is the sister to the High Lord of Hell. All of us, even pure as the driven snow Letholdus, got a nice piece of—“

“I get it! No need to go on!” I did not want to think of the magical gang-bang that had accompanied my conception. Ever. I didn’t need those details even if they were coming from subconscious Papa Percy and not real Papa Percy.

“The point is, you shouldn’t get too caught up in this spiritual journey and forget about your roots.”

Conceptually I knew he wasn’t talking about my hair, but his words reminded me that I’d really needed to have my roots done before I’d died. I wondered if Jezze would dye my hair before they buried me.

Papa Percy hopped from the tree, floating gently on his wings, and landed next to me.

Why couldn’t I have gotten wings from him?

He led me into the woods, tall trees surrounding us. From seedlings to towering giants between one moment and the next. I was no longer phased by the fluid nature of the spirit realm. It was what it was.

“I thought I was here to work through all the existential bullshit so I could move on to the next stage of the afterlife.” Or something.

“Did you forget?” He trailed his fingers along the trunk of a tree. “You aren’t here just to learn to control your thoughts and focus your beliefs. You’re here to regain what you’ve lost.” He paused and I did the same. He tapped me on the chest, right over my heart.

I frowned. So help me if I got out of this I would never frown again.

I placed a hand over my heart. What had I lost?

“My connection to Hell,” I nodded.

“Your first three fathers wouldn’t mind seeing you go to the playground in the sky.” Papa Percy gestured toward the clouds. “Faith, purity, patience. They were always groaning about the holy virtues. They always wanted to see the best in you.” He wagged a finger. “But I know you better than the others.”

I smirked. “I’ve always been a bad girl at heart.”

“Bad?” He pursed his lips and shook his head. “No, not at all. You’ve saved so many lives and protected the innocent. It’s safe to say you’re on the path toward good and righteousness, but is that really what you want?”

Was it?

My mother was a demon who’d spent millennia in Hell. My uncle was the Devil himself. I had his darkness in my blood and those evil urges had always been a part of me. I’d never considered I could be destined for anything else.

Papa Leth’s lecture on faith let me believe I had another option. I could, if I worked hard and stuck to it, cleanse my soul. Eventually. It would take a while to earn my eternal rest behind the gates of On High. It wouldn’t be easy, but the option was there.

Papa Percy had raised an interesting point. I’d spent my life believing I was destined for Hell along with my mother and uncle. I’d never been afraid of that possibility. For me, it wasn’t something to fear. I’d have a throne at Uncle Luc’s side and the massive hordes of Hell to command.

Pretty sweet deal, really.

There were downsides, of course. Like, I couldn’t return to the tween unless I was summoned. I wouldn’t be with Sam unless he let himself fall so he could join me. And I’d never get to see Bryony again. My kid was too good to end up in Hell.

Okay, so maybe I’d keep my options open. I could have Paradise with my son (eventually) and my mate, or I could have power at my uncle’s side. Not both. Not if I committed to a specific path.

Was there a middle option? Not pure enough for On High, but not so evil that I went to Hell?

Because I’d really love to have my cake and eat it too.

Papa Percy cupped my cheek. “That’s my gift to you. Don’t ever let someone tell you that you must abandon the darkness inside you. Without the darkness, there would be no light.”

“Humans in the tween get free will but gels and dems don’t. On High and Uncle Luc have their chains on those guys. It’s only the mortals who get to choose.”

“And that’s what your mother wanted for you.” Papa Percy faded from sight.

“Well,” I turned and found the last piece of the puzzle—Papa Al. “That just leaves you and me.”

Papa Al snorted. “I don’t have the patience for that spiritual shit so don’t expect it.”

I laughed. There was a reason Papa Al was my favorite.

Now we walked together, side by side. “So, if you’re not here to guide me on this amazing journey to self-discovery, why are you here?”

Papa Al grunted. “Something more practical. Faith, purity, patience, and balance are fine but sometimes you need balls to the wall decisive action. I taught you that. You stalk your prey, but when the time comes,” he snapped his teeth, sharpened points clicking, “you strike without hesitation.”

A door appeared in front of us, the rest of the landscape fading away. It left us floating in a vast expanse of white nothingness.

“You’re right.” I nodded—no frowning. “The time for patience has passed. I’m here for the sigil.”

He tipped his head toward the door. “It’s through there.”

I crossed my arms and studied the dark wood. “The door isn’t real. Nothing here is. So does this represent my mind’s ability to make a decision and take the next step?”

Papa Al grunted. “It’s a fucking door. Stop being introspective and open the fucking thing.”

He was right. I’d needed this spiritual journey. It had awakened things in me I hadn’t known existed, but I still had a job to do.

It was time to do it.