Mom sets down her mug. “You know how it is with Antrum and security. No phones, no television, no computers. He can’t call ever. He can only write once a month. Ghouls can’t portal in or out. It could be a year before you hear from him again.”

My stomach twists. Maybe I shouldn’t have inhaled that Demon Bar. “Thanks for being so encouraging. I thought you liked him.”

“I do, just don’t expect him to step through that door.” She takes another long sip of coffee. “And this stuff about being angelbound. It doesn’t mean you have to be with him. There are other men out there.”

What the? This is the guy who stood by my side to fight the freaking King of Hell. I have blue eyes because we share this crazy energy together. Is she on meds now? I am not going to waltz out there and find anyone else like him, ever. My bottom lip puffs out. And besides, I don’t want to anyway.

I crinkle the bar wrapper in my fist. “I just asked a question. I don’t need a lecture on how my relationship with Lincoln is impossible. Walker covered that already, thanks.”

Mom and Walker exchange a long look. I can imagine this was a big topic of conversation while I was out of it. Mom sighs. “Whether you like it or not, you two essentially rule very separate realms.”

I turn to Dad. “What do you say?”

He frowns, considering. “I’d say I’ve never seen anyone take on a greater demon for more than a few seconds, except an archangel.” He picks up a coffee mug from the counter, and then takes a long sip. “Your children would be unbelievable warriors.”

Mom slaps her palms on the tabletop. “Not helping, Xavier.”

He shoots her a smirky grin and winks. Mom blushes her face off. I bob my head approvingly. It’s nice to have a dad around.

Mom smoothes back her hair with her palms. Blush response or not, she’s not letting this one drop. “All I’m saying is that you should think about your options. Maybe we can find you a thrax who isn’t the crowned Prince?”

“Sure. I’ll go to the thrax store and pick out a new one.”

She wags her head. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but it’s the truth.”

Crap. Part of me knows she has a point. The Earl of Acca wants the High Prince to marry his daughter. Although Lincoln has a plan to defeat him, nothing is guaranteed. My eyelids feel heavy. All this reality is making my head spin. “Truth later. Sleep now.” I step out of the kitchen with Mom close behind.

Walker waves to me over his coffee mug. “Goodbye, Myla.” He offers me a sympathetic smile.

“Bye, Walker.”

Xavier rushes toward the door. “Does she need any help?”