Page 48 of Thorns from the Fall

My phone rings, and I can’t stop staring at the Beretta in my hands.

18

ROMAN

“Howdy, y’all.”

“Demon,” I say, and it comes out like a growl as I open the front door. The small woman who helped me teach Gwyn how to feed from humans looks up at me, eyes wide and innocent. She rolls her lips in and swallows before speaking.

“Nope, just me! Az is…” She gives a little shimmy and straightens her back. She tilts her head back to look up at me, having found some confidence she’d been lacking a moment before. “The demon is currently dormant, but he can see and hear everything.”

I glare at her for a moment, unable to let go of the fact that I unknowingly drank her incredibly addictive demon blood. Worse, Gwyn, who has a history with using shit like that to cope with her depression, had also drunk from the woman’s flesh.

But I can’t really be mad about that now, can I? Although, if Gwyn dies because she’s hooked on the shit, and not by my hand, I’ll be incredibly put out.

“Petra!” Margot says loud enough that I wince. Her voice is shrill especially so close to my fucking ear, and if Remy weren’t already awake, I’d be irritated with her over it. But she’s the best friend I’ve got at the moment, so I try to chill the fuck out even ifshe’s pissing me off. She’d stupidly mentioned this plan in front of Remy, and so he’d insisted on being present, and I’m worried about the outcome.

Margot opens the door wide and drags Petra inside. The small woman hugs Margot before taking off her coat. I’ve never seen someone possessed by a demon have control of their own body in this manner. She’s dressed warmer than when I saw her at Last Drop. Her leggings have a mesh cut out and there’s some sort of strap criss-crossing over it to match the harness she wears over a black tank top. She has necklaces layered on top, and her accessories are making a lot of noise.

I don’t get it.

“I love your shoes,” Margot says, pointing at the shiny silver high-tops Petra’s wearing. I really don’t understand fashion because who would want to be noticed so much?

“Oh my god, thank you! I got them at a thrift store near the bar, and I’m just obsessed with?—”

“Enough,” I say, closing the door behind them. “It’s late, and I want you out of my house as soon as fucking possible.”

Margot shoots me a look before ushering Petra through the family room and into the dining room. Remy unfolds himself from the couch, skin pale and eyes dark since he’s refused any blood until we find Kayla. The couple of humans I’ve drunk from haven’t done anything to slake my intense thirst—only reminding me of how good Gwyn’s blood tastes in comparison—so I know Remy must be feeling overwhelmed by his own. Still, though, he won’t drink from me despite my many offers.

I could force the issue, and I don’t really know why I don’t. I guess if this is what he needs to do to feel better about Kayla, I’ll let him. Thirst won’t kill him.

But finding out Kayla is dead just might.

“I’m sorry it’s so late. I even left my shift early.”

“Last Drop still allows you to work?” I ask, watching warily as Remy sits down next to Petra. I don’t think he’ll lunge at her or anything insane like that, but knowing demon blood courses in her veins puts me the fuck on edge.

“No. I’m at Sanguivita now,” she says, looking down at her hands. “But I’m?—”

“Oh, so it doesn’t matter that you’re enabling?—”

“I’m a bartender!” Petra shouts, looking up at me through dark lashes before I can accuse her of dealing demon blood. Her eyes are dark, and when they flash completely black for a split second, I almost allow myself to think it was a trick of the light. She closes her eyes and clears her throat. “I’m sorry for what happened at Last Drop. Az was a…new addition in my life that night, and I completely forgot that my blood would change.”

Margot giggles, but when Petra turns that puppy dog stare on her, my friend covers it with a cough. “How do you just…forget?”

“Also, how the fuck are you in control right now?” I ask, before grabbing my whiskey off the countertop and sitting down at the table across from Remy.

“It’s part of our bargain,” Petra says proudly, adjusting in her seat and folding her hands on the table. “He thinks I’minteresting.”

“Well, I don’t, and he’s who I’m here for, so…” I gesture for her to let the demon out. She frowns, and I swear if she tries to give me the puppy dog look, it won’t work.

“Roman, be nice,” my brother reprimands, and Petra gives him a sweet smile.

“Don’t look at him,” I say. Remy kicks me under the table.

“Az says that whatever you have to say to him, you can say to me.” Petra lifts her chin.

I sigh, putting my elbow on the table and running a rough palm over my brow. It’s nearly three in the goddamn morning, and I want to stop getting fucked over by demons. I don’t thinkthat’s asking for very much. Hoping Kayla is still alive? That one feels like a big ask, but I hold on to it anyway for my brother.

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