Page 41 of Thorns from the Fall

“It was the same brunette from the other day,” I say. “Do you think they’re plotting something? I can’t tell if she’s a vampire, and I don’t recognize her from the compound.” We both pretend I’m not an actual crazy person.

“Do you want a ‘me’ answer or a ‘Hale’ answer?” she asks, and I decide I don’t need an answer at all. When I look away, she gives me her brutal honesty. “He’s trying to fuck you out of his system.”

I laugh, and it makes my head hurt. “I don’t think he’s quite that affected.”

“Come on. She’s your clone.”

“She’s not tall enough, and her hair is too light.”

“Not anymore,” Sasha says, repositioning on the bed to sit closer to me.

“Sure, but he doesn’t know that.”

She leans forward and grabs my hairbrush off the nightstand. My stomach clenches. Hale has been here with me so many times—too many times—but I’ve tried to protect Sasha from this. It’s embarrassing, especially when she’s so organized and impassive. She’s slow to anger, quiet when she’s in her thoughts, and I’ve rarely even seen her disheveled. Hale is like me, messy and unrefined, and so I don’t mind letting him see the bad parts.

But at least my hair isn’t as tangled as it could be—though it’s close. My hair has gone matted a few times in my life, requiring intervention from a professional hair stylist, and we’re not at that point.

Yet.

“I think all of his magic has faded,” she says gently as she pulls the brush through my now golden-blonde strands.

“I might have to request that Caitriona woman come back and fix it. I don’t know if I like it,” I say. Between the unfamiliar hue of my natural hair color, and the sharp-toothed fangs of apredator revealing themselves when I smile, I’m lucky I don’t disassociate every time I look in the mirror.

Sasha is quiet for a moment. “You know hair dye is a thing that average people have access to, right?”

“Yeah, but it’s not the same.”

It had almost become a ritual, having Angela or Hale dye my hair. With Cynthia and my dad’s hair being so dark, my blonde had stuck out like a sore thumb. To protect me from Bjorn’s coven, Angela offered to modify it when she started dating my dad.

“Things change, Gwyn,” she says before clearing her throat, pulling a piece of my hair into her hand to separate it from the rest. She tugs at a particularly stubborn tangle, only saving her tenderness for her words. “I’m leaving.”

I stiffen, back going straight, and I’m about to ask her why when she puts her hand on my shoulder.

“I can’t leave if you’re like this. You need to stop rotting in this bed and go take a shower.”

I know what Ishoulddo, what she wants me to do, but that’s the problem isn’t it? I don’t actuallyneedto do it. Truthfully, I don’t need to do anything. With my plan having fallen the fuck apart, Hale without magic to help me track down Agnarr, and my only bargaining chip given to Roman, what’s the point of any of this?

All I’m doing is biding my time, waiting for Roman to finally nut up and kill me.

I’m his willing prisoner, eager for any attention he might give me, even if it’s the last I’ll ever receive.

As the rising sun peeks out from behind a cloud, I’m grateful that at least my death row is quite comfortable. The buildings surrounding the compound go dark, one by one, shutting off the red and green lights pointed skyward that splash against brick to create a pretty view of the skyline. The holiday came and went,and without Hale, Sasha and I didn’t celebrate. But the lights are festive, and they’ll likely stay on for the remainder of the holiday season.

When Sasha finishes brushing my hair, I realize I’ve spaced out this entire time, staring out the windows. I turn to face her, and her gaze drags an accusatory path from the bags under my eyes to the dirty tank top and underwear I’m wearing, all the way to the fingernails I’ve chewed down. My cuticles aren’t raw anymore, already healed after the last nail-biting hyperfixation an hour ago.

“You stink, sis,” she says, and it’s not hateful. It’s just a fact. I wouldn’t have thought vampires could have body odor, but there was a lot about vampires I didn’t know.

“Where are you going?” I ask, mouth dry.

Alone, I think.I’ll be alone,without anyone—again.

“The Institute. With Hale Ascending, I think…We’ve all made sacrifices haven’t we?” She reaches over and squeezes my hand. “It’s my turn.”

“But your dad. Sasha, are you serious?” I ask. “You haven’t seen him in?—”

“It’s been so long it’s not worth assigning a number to it. And that’s why it’ll be fine. He’s a stranger to me, and I’m a stranger to him. I’ll go, figure out how to use my magic, and it’ll be fine.”

I contemplate what to say to her. I don’t want her near the man either. Angela had kept Sasha away from her dad for as long as I can remember—and for good reason. But because of it, Sasha’s knowledge of her gifts is limited.

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