Page 80 of Thorns from the Fall

I need to do him the favor of leaving him the fuck alone. It’s the least I can do.

The elevator opens, and I assume it’s Hale stopping in to snag my phone charger before he heads out to Last Drop. He had texted about Nico borrowing mine since his broke and Hale’s won’t work on his device. When I told Hale that Nico had better taste than him, he’d responded with a queasy emoji. I don’t actually care about whichever phone model is better, but Hale does, and I like to tease him.

“Is Nico with you?” I ask, slipping off the bed to tug on a pair of leggings.

No response. Zuul wakes from a nap and sits up, ears straight and alert. I inhale, and I don’t know who I smell—but it isn’t Hale. Maybe Nico came for the charger himself.

“Stay,” I murmur, hoping Zuul will obey. He’s a big baby that is pretty fucking useless when it comes to defending me, so I want him safe—just in case.

“Hale?”

I grab my gun, knowing it’s fucking useless but hopeful that whoever the fuck is in the penthouse doesn’t know the difference. Slowly, I edge away from the bed, trying to get a glimpse through the window to see into the living room. Thanks to the layout of the balcony, I’m able to make out a tall, blond man inching closer to where I wait.

Agnarr has come to me, it seems. He’s cut his hair, but he’s unmistakable. Sharp jawed with piercing eyes, he looks muchthe same as the first night I saw him. His short hair is wavy, and he wears a suit, probably trying to fit in as he searches for my birth mom.

“Told you she was dead,” I call out, holding the gun in front of me. I’m so fucked. Even if it was loaded, who knows if a silver bullet will actually kill one of the original vampires?

“Don’t make this difficult, hybrid.”

His accent isn’t as thick as it was before, and I chalk it up to the fact he was asleep for who knows how long. Now, he’s fully awake. No drowsiness to contend with.

“What do you want?”

“You know what I want.”

“No, I really don’t think I do,” I say, trying to get to the bathroom on the other side of the bed before he’s close enough to figure out my shitty plan. I don’t see my phone on the floor, and my heart sinks. But it doesn’t matter, because who the fuck would I call?

“You should not exist, and you know this. It is not the natural order.”

Forget stealth, I decide, before I use my abilities to move as quickly as possible to the bathroom door, and I’m halfway across it to the other room by the time he’s caught up.

I understand now—why my father always encouraged short hair. Long hair and ponytails make it particularly easy for an attacker to throw a woman to the ground, and Agnarr does just that. Before he has a chance to get in a position over me though, I scramble to my feet, grabbing the lid off the toilet tank.

“Vampires aren’t natural, you asshole.” I slam the porcelain into his stomach before backing into the attached bedroom. Zuul barks and runs toward the bathroom as if to attack Agnarr. Bile rises in my throat, and I command him to stop. I’m not sure if I somehow used coercion on him or if that would even work, but he obeys. He sits at the door on the other side of the murderousvampire, and I have to hope Agnarr doesn’t think to use him as leverage.

“But you can feel it, can’t you? That you’re not meant to be? You yearn for death, little one.”

My heart is about to burst out of my chest, and I slam the door in his face before sprinting out of the room and down the hall. I am no match for his strength, and he clearly doesn’t give a fuck about my gun. I have to get out of here.

Zuul runs out into the living room, and Agnarr is close behind him.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see the elevator start to rise, digital numbers on the panel beside it changing as it hits each floor. I realize I don’t know how the fuck Agnarr got up here because it’s a keyed entry and the elevator is still many floors below. But it doesn’t matter if he climbed up the elevator shaft like some sort of freak, because that’s not important. Whoever is on that elevator knows the code. They’re all that matters. I back toward the balcony door, and Zuul runs toward me.

It’s Hale or Roman—and whoever steps through those doors will define my actions.

“Gwyn, please,” Agnarr says, hands in his pockets like a businessman acting casual while trying to sell a product. “There is no need to spill more vampire blood than necessary. Only yours. You want it just as bad as I do, don’t you?”

His accent is so faint, I don’t understand how this man is the same Old Norse speaking, near-feral creature who crawled out of the bowels of this building. But what hasn’t changed are his abilities. He’d frozen every single vampire in that room—except me. I’d been able to resist the coercion to a point, but no one else could. And whoever is on that fucking elevator will become a weapon against me if he so pleases.

I don’t have a choice but to give him what he wants.

“Let whoever is coming take my dog and go. I’ll give you what you want without a fight, but only then.”

I pull the hammer down on the Beretta and lift it to my temple to show him I’m serious—even if a dry fire won’t do anything but buy me some time.

He rolls his eyes as if he’s particularly put out by the request, but he relents with a shrug. “The dog is quite handsome.”

Zuul growls at Agnarr as he turns his back to us, arms crossed. He watches the elevator, and I hold my breath. If it’s Roman, I might have a shot at killing Agnarr with his help—if my blood can help him resist the coercion. If it’s Hale? I’m as good as dead.

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