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“Look who’s here, Fiona. I didn’t think criminals cared about children’s hospitals.” Kye and a wolf I didn’t recognize in a mini dress and heavy makeup stood between Thorn and me.
Thorn glanced past them at me, and I gave him a nod. Thorn said when his gaze returned to Kye, “All things considered, perhaps you should be more careful who you call a criminal, Mr. Driftwood.”
I froze, unsure how to avoid making this confrontation worse. As I grew more upset, the stone lodged against my breast’s tender skin heated to a stinging temperature.
“You’re not welcome here, Thorn. People might be afraid of you, but soon, you won’t be the most powerful creature in Baton Rouge anymore and then you’ll leave, or you’ll—go through some things.”
“Kye,” I blurted his name without thinking.
“I thought I smelled your whore,” he sneered.
Thorn’s eyes glowed, the red taking over the brown, his teeth beginning to elongate almost like a vampire’s, at least if every tooth in his mouth were vampire’s fangs. Kye stared and bared his teeth.
Thorn had attacked Kye in the shack that night, and now he's showing his demonic side to Kye and these people. What the hell would that do to Thorn's high-roller reputation?
Meanwhile, the artifact wanted to blister my flesh through the encased stone and the meager protection of the handkerchief.
Kye stepped forward, his lip curling, and I could spot the first signs of the change. Kye's beard began to get thick, and his face elongated, spiking my alarm. I stepped between them, ignoring Kye to focus on Thorn's eyes.
I placed my hands on either side of his face and searched his eyes, using our connection to break through his rage. I projected calm and composure until Thorn’s gaze finally met mine, and the swirling scarlet slowed, diminished, then softened to a deep chocolate brown with flecks of gold and red.
“Hey,” I whispered. “There you are.”
He licked his lips, staring down at me inscrutably. “There you are,” he echoes softly, bending so close I could lean in for a kiss.
Kye stormed off, but I hardly noticed past the pounding of my heart. I don’t know what will happen next.
And I was about to be disappointed. Thorn's smooth-as-glass persona slid over his features, and our connection dissipated.
“Let’s go,” he said coldly.
17
Tension crackled between us as the limo drove to Thorn’s safe house, and not the fun and sexy kind.
When we arrived, Thorn escorted me in and proceeded to pace the living room for a good fifteen minutes as his agitation rolled off in waves. I watched silently, not sure of what to say or do. Was this in any way the result of the Hand? Wrath was one of the seven deadly sins, and the artifact in my chest contained the essence of that vice and all the others.
Then Thorn stopped in his tracks and scoffed.
“What possessed me at that gala? Ridiculous. There’s no good reason to let that pathetic thief get to me.”
“Kye has that effect on people. He gets under people’s skin.”
“Not mine,” said Thorn with defiance. “Not when humans would see my most monstrous self and call everything I’ve done and everyone who’s ever associated with me into question. People might believe we’re criminals, but we keep the machine running smoothly for preternatural beings, free from witch-hunts and government intervention.”
Thorn vibrated with frustration and irritation, and his Italian leather shoes beat a staccato rhythm on the wooden floor in time to his words.
“Hey. Let’s look at this artifact and see what it has under the hood.”
Thorn waved his hand dismissively as he paced, giving me unspoken permission to proceed. I snatched up my purse where I had stashed the stone when in the car and retrieved it. Then I grabbed its friend from where I hid it behind the fireplace. Because of the other reactions I observed, I wanted Thorn to see.
The spearhead vibrated as soon as it was next to the eye, and the artifact began to glow. “I think the relic is encased in the stone rather than being the stone.”
Thorn stopped pacing and leveled his gaze at me. “So, break it. Go ahead.”
His laser-focused interest ratcheted my nerves, and my hands shook with micro-tremors as I handled the spearhead. The stone stung as it hit my palm’s flesh.
“Ouch!”
