Steering his way down the mountain roads, a considering almost-smile came over Raziel’s face as he listened to Willow’s thoughts and feelings. At first he’d told himself he was only delving to find out what was going on with the Angel Killers, but now he had to admit that his daughter’s mental processes had become strangely addictive to him – like one of those reality TV shows humans loved so much. He’d never have guessed any progeny of his could be so nice. The idea was as alien as having a daughter at all. Raziel had spent days looking for some kind of edge to Willow – the angle from which she operated. There was none, unless it was her love for Kylar, or her desire to help others.

Yet she was no doormat – the girl had a steely strength that Raziel was sure came from him. Miranda had been beautiful, but a limp dishrag of a woman. In short, Willow was a worthy adversary, which irrationally pleased him. If he had to have something as base as a daughter, he at least wanted her to have some wits about her before he put her to death.

Even so, Raziel was deeply thankful no one suspected he was the father. His mind went back to the day he’d first woken up, and his meeting with the Council in the cathedral conference room: their expressionless faces that never seemed to smile or frown. They’d brought up the half-angel, of course – it had been almost the first thing they’d thrown at him.

“We Twelve have tried to find her psychically but can’t; her energy is once-removed from ours.” Isda’s grey eyes had been as impassive as when she’d called for the traitors to be brought out. “How was she able to get into the cathedral and then escape again, Raziel? Exactly what kind of security do you have here?”

Raziel had gritted his teeth, but kept his tone mild as he explained about his traitorous human assistant. He could feel the Twelve’s minds craning towards each other; undercurrents of thought that he couldn’t catch swirled about the room.

That’s not good enough, said someone. The words weren’t spoken aloud; the meeting had apparently shifted to the psychic level, which was always a bad sign. If Raziel hadn’t already had psychic defences in place, he would have slammed them down at that moment, like a castle portcullis.

The voice became several voices, all communicating with him at once. This kind of sloppy work isn’t acceptable, Raziel. The girl should have been destroyed weeks ago. Who’s the father? How was this even able to happen?