I cut my eyes back at him, yearning for my knives. “Are you saying that you can’t help being a child killer?”
Mustafa’s eyes gleamed as though he favored my blistered face. “Perhaps if you will allow me to explain, I can clear up your misunderstanding.”
“I saw you murder my child,” I whispered, on the hinge of exploding. “What excuse are you trying to shove up my ass… the devil made you do it?”
“You know so little about my origin and how I came about in this life.”
I figured he could say whatever he liked. I didn’t have to agree or for that matter even listen. So, I silently drank my coffee.
Mustafa briefly flashed a faint smile and proceeded. “Thank you, Stephanie!” He pushed his tray aside. “As you know very little about our kind, let me begin. In the abode of God, all firstborn ang
