Page 39 of Thorns from the Fall

“No, they can’t. It doesn’t work like that,” I say with certainty. I know better than the two of them what can be done once a soul moves onto the afterlife. No matter how much money or tears you throw at them, some things are impossible.

“Why didn’t they just take Kayla’s when they snatched her?” I ask, knowing how the fuck it sounds. But there’s no point in mincing words. He flinches, just as I knew he would. But Margot soothes him, and I’m glad I brought her. She can be gentle with him—better than I can.

“They offered me a deal. Ten souls of their choosing to save Kayla. That’s…that’s what I was doing when…when I got caught.” He turns on the bed and grabs my hand in his. “They said I only had a year.”

“How many souls had you given them?” Despite the predicament, satisfaction courses through my veins knowing that Bill Parsons’s soul was payment rendered for a demon’s deal.

“All ten,” he says, “but I didn’t have time to check in with them after the fact. I-I don’t know what they’ve done with her. If she’s alright, if they still have her. I don’t know fucking anything.”

“You paid the debt, Remy. Demons might not have honor but they have reputation,” I say, squeezing his hand before dropping it. He begins to argue but I’m barely listening. The fact he fulfilled the requirements of the deal eases my worry for the girl.It takes off the fucking heat, and I’m grateful because I need to get out of the fucking fire.

“We’ll look into it,” Margot says, smiling reassuringly at my brother before giving him another hug. Over his shoulder, she widens her eyes at me like I’m some sort of asshole.

She’s the one holding him as he cries, so maybe she’s right.

15

GWYN

Roman walks into the bar,and I immediately notice the shift in the air. He might be a vampire and he might think I’m clueless, but my hunter instincts perk up the moment he crosses the threshold. It’s electricity. On the outside, I play oblivious. On the inside, my senses howl. I’m that haunting mountaintop photograph of two grinning brothers moments before the storm. My hair stands on end, and I’m grinning at the camera.

Unlike those kids, though, I’m expecting the strike.

My skin pebbles as I lean toward Hale. “Need that shot now,” I say, and he gives me a knowing look. He doesn’t make it obvious by looking toward the door, but he’s aware from my tone that Roman has arrived. He doesn’t hide the worry lingering in his eyes. Hale thinks I’m suicidal to go through with this plan, and I don’t argue with him.

But I’m confident in what I plan to do. And besides, now that we’re waiting for the scheduled photoshoot, I don’t think I can turn back if I wanted to. Josh’s proposal had been a catalyst, reminding me that I’d never have a normal life. I’d hidden this part of myself from him, and I still hadn’t been enough.

But this? I’m fucking made for it.

It’s about time I take my birthright and infiltrate the coven that haunted my family over the years, ultimately taking my parents from me.

I’ve been meticulous with my questions for Remy. At this point, I think I know Roman better than I know myself.

And it unsettles me.

From what his brother has said of him, Roman is fiercely protective of his family—to a fault. Every now and then, I wonder if I’ve bitten off more than I can chew. Since Remy’s forced phone call, we’ve watched his brother’s movements, and he’s been thorough in his examination of demon circles closer to his home in Chicago. He hasn’t ventured toward the coast yet, or there’d be a trail of bodies. Methodically, he’s killed the host bodies of at least a dozen demons, and I’ve wondered if he has a limit.

Sometimes, I wonder if my biological father has more of an impact on me than I want him to. Because when it comes to protecting Sasha and Hale, I doubt I have a limit either.

Hale shoves a shot glass into my hand, and I don’t bother looking at it before tossing it back. The liquid is frigid, and my nostrils burn.

“Jesus. What was that?” I ask, taking note of Roman’s purposeful stroll to the back corner of the bar. With the kind of imposing build and height that should be illegal, he somehow manages not to draw attention from anyone but me. I hope I hide it well enough. He sits in a corner booth like some sort of death metal Aragorn, hat pulled low over his eyes while his tattooed fingertips drum the table. Manspreading like a motherfucker, he embodies a “don’t fuck with me” attitude. And no one does. I wonder if the humans can sense him like I can—just in a different way.

“Jäger,” Hale trills, and I snort.

“No wonder it was cold,” I say, shaking my shoulders loose. I turn, just a fraction, so as to get a better view of my stalker in the corner. Even though I could sense his presence with my eyes closed, it makes me feel better to keep a visual on him.

“It didn’t work with Maya, but I really think you ought to?—”

“Not right now,” I say, jabbing my friend in the stomach. The last thing I want to try to do is compel another vampire while Roman is nearby. I suspect it’s only something I’ll be able to do once I Ascend, and that’s all that matters. In the meantime, I could always use more practice resisting the command of a vampire, but not while Roman is around.

Hale nods toward the other presence in the packed bar. Though not as intense of a storm as Roman, the slender vampire playing darts has already drawn my attention. There is no foreboding sense of danger with them, but I still can’t let my guard down. And all I want to fucking do is let my guard down. With Roman following me for weeks, I’ve been on high-alert. And with the new camera he’d installed in my fucking bedroom, I can’t even rub one out to ease my nerves. I was tempted to do it the other night anyway, dickhead vampire voyeur and all. What kind of self-respecting single woman pushing thirty doesn’t masturbate, anyway? And I know he’s rummaged through my shit, so he has to wonder why my vibrators are accumulating dust.

Fucked if I do, fucked if I don’t…fuck myself, I guess? Or something like that.

Hale tilts his head to the side. “I think I might be their type anyway,” he says, as the dart-playing vampire trails a seductive fingertip up a man’s chest. The man leans forward, playfully nipping at the vampire’s fingertips.

“I don’t have to fuck them to compel them,” I mutter. “Just thought it might be easier, is all.”

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