AFTER RUNNING AS far as my legs would carry me, I’d hitchhiked back to our motel in Deming. Despite an hour of scrubbing in the shower, I felt no cleaner and decided I needed a drink or six to clear the images of the screaming child and murdered mother from my mind.

In that moment, there was barely a choice about letting Evie back into my heart. She was already there.

Almost the instant I’d seen the consequences of my choices, Evie had been back with me, whispering all the things she’d tried to tell me from the beginning. She’d been right; my family was nothing more than common murderers.

And I was just like them.

In fact, I was worse because I’d felt that what we did was wrong for the longest time and yet I did it anyway.

Desperate for a drink, I clenched my fists and made a beeline for the bar. It was almost four hours since I’d shot the woman, and I needed something to wipe the image from my mind. When I found the nearest open establishment, I walked straight to the bar, nodded to the bartender to get his attention, and ordered a scotch on the rocks.

When the bartender asked for my ID, I slid my license across without batting an eyelid. It stated that I was twenty-one even though I was still a number of months away. Of course, I’d had IDs that stated I was twenty-one for at least the last four years. The bartender cast a cursory glance over it and then pushed it back to me.

The instant the drink was in front of me, I tipped the cup to my lips, downing the contents in one gulp. I lifted my fingers to indicate to the bartender to give me another. This time, I sat cradling the glass between my hands and trying to find the answers to my dilemmas in the amber liquid.

Knowing that my family would assume I’d gone AWOL if I didn’t contact someone soon, and fully aware of the potential consequences of that assumption, I fumbled for my cell phone and sent a text to Eth to let him know where I was.

It had been a bit of a dick move leaving him alone to deal with the fallout of my fuckup—not that he’d ever agree that I screwed up by shooting the cat. None of my family would. If anything, they were probably out celebrating the fact that I had the balls to fire on a monster at all after Evie.

In most of our other cases since my retraining, I’d run backup and had never taken the lead. We’d even had Ben’s help on a couple of cases, which had been both a positive and a negative. It had meant that I could sink further back and not have to fight, but he was a sick son-of-a-bitch and seemed to derive pleasure from the hunt, more so than even Lou, and that was hard to put up with for too long.

Half an hour, and three more doubles later, Eth sidled up beside me and nodded at the bartender to order the same.

“Okay, cut the bullshit. What’s going on?” he asked as he leaned forward onto the bar.

If I opened my mouth to answer him, I had no idea what might come out. It was safer just to pretend he hadn’t spoken, so that’s what I did. I ignored his presence entirely and continued to assess the contents of my drink, trying not to let rogue thoughts into my mind.

“You don’t seem like yourself right now,” he said, his worry clear in his voice.

I shrugged. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“It is.”

“Why?” I watched the ice slide around inside my glass as I tilted it back and forth—anything to ensure I didn’t have to examine the disappointment and anger that was sure to be written on Eth’s features if I looked over to him.

“Because last time you didn’t seem like yourself, you left us.”

The concern in his voice made me sigh in surrender. “Maybe I just don’t like who I am very much lately.”

“I get that you had a panic attack or something out there today, but are you going to turn into a whiny bitch now and discuss all of your feelings?” He took a sip of his drink. “This ain’t Oprah, you know?”

I shook my head and threw back the rest of the scotch. “I guess I just don’t understand why we do this.”

“Do what?”

“Hunt. Kill.” I shrugged. “Murder,” I added, because that was what it had felt like for me as I watched the woman die—at my hand.

He stared at me, slack-jawed, as if it was impossible for him to process the words I was saying. Especially after having emerged from retraining an apparently fixed man a little less than six months earlier.

“It’s not murder though,” he explained in a slow tone, “because they’re not human.”

“Who’s to say what’s human though?” I realized my words echoed those ones that Evie had asked me months ago. Who had the right to decide that her mother, Emily, had to die?

“Are we here for a metaphysical discussion or to have a few drinks?”

Leaning forward against the bar, I shrugged again. “You’re the one who brought it up.”

“You’re the one who’s been crying into a glass of scotch like a pussy for the last half hour.”

“Look, I know you don’t get it, but I realized today that I don’t care what anyone else thinks. I don’t agree with everything we have to do. The little girl . . . it could have been Evie. There was an attack on her when she was young.”

“It should have been.” He twisted his glass in his hands. “At least then she wouldn’t have been able to sink her claws into you.”

Without a thought, I turned and swung at him. When I toppled off-balance with my terribly aimed swing, I realized just how much the doubles I’d been drinking had affected my coordination, especially with my empty stomach. Eth easily deflected my blow, and a second later, my face was pressed against the bar and his hand was on my neck.

“Not cool,” he murmured against my ear. “Try it again, and I’ll break your nose. I don’t give a shit if you’re my brother.”

Eth waved away the watchful eye of the bartender as he released his hold on me, giving me a shove as I stood.

“You can’t talk like that about Evie,” I muttered in response. “She i—was important to me.” I cursed the liquor for my near slip of the tongue.

If I’d said “is” it probably would have tipped him off to the fact that Evie was still alive—or at least that she had been when I’d last seen her. Through everything, I’d done so well to keep that secret hidden from them all. The last thing I needed was for a misplaced word to screw it all up. If they knew she’d survived, it would mean the sacrifice I’d made in leaving her—the ache in my heart as I recalled the way she looked at me with so much hurt in her eyes—would be meaningless. The last six months of my life, would be meaningless.

“You’re right,” Eth said.

For half a second, I thought that maybe I was finally getting through to him, but his next words shattered that illusion.

“I don’t get it. What could possibly have made you turn your back on everything you’ve ever known for her? I mean sure, for a monster she wasn’t bad on the eyes, but she’s still a freak.”

I scrubbed the back of my neck as my stomach rolled. Words to defend Evie burned my tongue, but I worried that by doing releasing them, I risked betraying the fact that she was still alive. I rested my head back against the lacquered bar surface, gazing up at him through one eye.

“I don’t know how to explain it,” I murmured into the wood grain. “She just made me feel like every part of me was on fire all at once.”

He rolled his eyes. “Uh, dude, that’s kind of the point of a phoenix.”

“Not like that,” I said with my irritation clear in my voice before pushing myself upright again. “I mean that no matter how far away from her I got, she was there. Her image is printed on my brain and every time I close my eyes, she’s right there. Even sitting here knowing that she’s—”

I cut myself off at the last possible second; I had been so close to saying “out there somewhere.” Resigned to the fact that I would never be able to make my family see what I had, I issued a heavy sigh and tried anyway.

“She just made parts of me feel alive, like I just wanted to climb inside of her body and share that feeling with her forever.”

He snorted. “I know exactly which part of you wanted to climb inside which parts of her, and that part I can totally understand, but couldn’t you at least choose someone of your own species. I mean first a harpy, then this phoenix. What’s next?”

I nearly choked on my drink. Of course he would bring up the harpy. I was fifteen when I’d had an almost deadly case of hot for teacher—Miss Podarge. My English teacher. With her silken black hair, wide, bright green eyes, and absolutely banging body, she was the star of many wet dreams—not just mine but of almost all of the boys in the school.

For some reason, which the boys around me didn’t understand, she’d taken an almost immediate interest in me when I transferred to the school. Barely a week after I’d started, she asked me to stay after class. The boys teased me as they left, taunting me for being the teacher’s pet, but I knew from previous locker room talk that they were all secretly wishing it was them who got to spend an extra couple of minutes in her presence.

 

“MISTER JACOBS.” Her voice was honey and sunshine. When I looked up, her gaze met mine—captivating and mesmerizing. There was something about her that sounded alarm bells in my head, but I couldn’t ignore the pull she had over my hormones. She walked over and sat on the edge of my desk. I slid my chair to the side to accommodate her.

The position left my shoulder brushing against her knee. The only thing that could pull my gaze from her eyes was the sight of her pale, creamy thigh that peeked out from beneath her pinstriped skirt as she crossed her legs. I wondered what color her panties were, and whether I would be able to see them if I shifted slightly to the right.

“I’m sure you know why I asked you stay back.”

I shook my head dumbly before trying to glance up toward her face again. Instead, my gaze only traveled as far as the top button on her shirt, which strained under the weight of her breasts and was barely clinging to the buttonhole. I fantasized about how easy it might have been to flick that button undone before shifting in my seat uncomfortably.

With a smile, Miss Podarge leaned forward to rest one hand on the edge of my desk. She lifted her other toward me. Her perfectly manicured finger touched underneath my chin, and she guided my face up to meet her gaze with her bright-red, talon-like nail.

“That’s exactly what we need to talk about,” she purred as she dipped her eyes down toward her cleavage, causing my gaze to fall back onto the straining button. “I’ve seen you watching me.”

She uncrossed her legs before crossing them again the other way, allowing her to lean closer to me. The brief motion had shown me the answer to the question I’d had a few minutes earlier.

Red.

Her chest was almost directly in line with my mouth. If Eth were in my position, he would have said or done something witty, and she’d be putty in his hands. Then he would’ve stood and claimed her lips. That’s how it seemed to work with the girls he dated at least. I couldn’t seem to think of any witty words though—words in general were beyond me in that moment.

“I know what you are,” she purred, dragging her nail up along my chest, causing me to sit up at attention in front of her. Then her nail continued around the neck of my T-shirt until she reached the gold chain around my neck. With a look of disgust on her face, she lifted the pendant so that the dove was lifted and on display for her. “But you won’t hurt me, will you?” The sweetness left her voice, replaced by cold steel.

I found myself shaking my head. My body felt like it was on autopilot, and I couldn’t fight, even if I wanted to. I didn’t want to though; she was too beautiful to harm.

“Your family wants to hurt me, don’t they?”

I lifted my eyes to hers. Did they? That was why we’d moved to that school—the stories of the boys going missing. I nodded.

Using the hold she had on my chain, she pulled me to a standing position and then guided me in front of her. She parted her legs and pulled me into the space between them. She wrapped her perfect thighs around me and dragged my head down to be level with hers as she brushed her lips against my cheek. “You don’t want them to hurt me, do you?”

She threaded her fingers into my hair and guided my mouth to hers. With the permission granted by her touch, my hands grew bold and caressed her hips, guiding her pelvis toward mine.

“That’s a good boy,” she whispered against my lips. “You want me, don’t you?”

I found myself nodding again as I pushed the skirt she was wearing higher up her legs and brushed my fingers along the outside of her thighs.

“That’s good, because I can guarantee you the time of your life. Being with me . . . it’s worth dying for.”

She reached for one of my hands and shifted it to her blouse. She tipped her head back as my hand clasped around her bra.

The classroom door smashed open.

“Fuck, Clay, you were supposed to keep her busy. Not get busy with her!” Eth whined before lifting the shotgun into position.

Miss Podarge screeched in my ear, and the spell she had over me was instantly shattered. I shoved her away from me, intending to put some distance between us before Eth was ready to fire, but she lashed out first, striking at the left side of my body with her talons and tearing through the thin material of my shirt and into my skin with barely any effort. I cried out in pain as I clutched at my shoulder and rolled away from her.

“Fuck!” I shouted as the harpy’s disguise fell away and her true self was revealed: all luminous green eyes and almost scaly gray skin. “Just shoot the bitch already, Eth.”

 

“THE HARPY was completely different,” I argued.

“How so?” he challenged.

“She manipulated my teenage hormones to control me, like a form of hypnosis.” I shuddered at the memory of the complete loss of control I’d felt. “It wasn’t like that with Evie.”

“Are you sure? How do you know it’s not part of her charm to be able to enchant you?”

“Wouldn’t I know if she had? I felt the harpy’s hold.” I’d felt the vamp’s presence.

“I don’t know, man. Maybe a phoenix has a subtler ability. Who the hell would know? It’s not like there’s a ton of lore around them.”

I ordered another drink as I thought about what he’d said. Was it possible that Evie had cast some sort of spell over me? It certainly explained the fact that I’d been obsessed with her since our first encounter in Ohio over two and a half years ago.

“I get that it’s hard to make the tough calls,” Eth said, pulling me from my internal musings. “Today was a tough call, but it was also the right thing to do.”

I looked up at him, desperate to believe his words even though I didn’t see how I could. How could killing a mother in front of her child ever be the right thing?

The bartender placed two more drinks in front of us, and Eth slid mine over to me. “I called it in after you left. It was a púca—they’re a distant relative of the fae.”

That knowledge gave me unexpected relief. Fae didn’t always attack, but they could. When they did, they were capable of evils that no other species came close to. The image of Lou’s scars flashed into my mind.

“Look, you’re my brother. I don’t mind cleaning up your messes, but you need to be committed to this life or it will get you killed. Or maybe your partner. As said partner for the moment, I’m telling you to straighten the fuck up.” He noticed a redhead at the end of the bar smiling coyly at him and he nudged me. “Then again, maybe you just need to find the right sort of something to distract you from your hours of wallowing.”

I shook my head. “I don’t think I can do that.”

It felt like an insult to the almost-but-not-quite completely innocent encounters I’d shared with Evie to even contemplate being with another woman.

“Whatever man.” He shrugged. “I just miss my brother, the one who knew how to hunt with me and then have a little fun afterward.”

His words made me recall the time, back when Evie was still nothing more than a dream based on a memory from high school, when Eth and I would finish a hunt and then stumble into the local bar together to find some girls. It had all seemed so innocent back then. So easy.

Of course, that had been before I’d experienced the passion of love—something not even an encounter with the most attractive stranger could come close to emulating.

Clearly realizing I wasn’t taking part in his debauchery, he left me and sauntered over to the girl who leaned closer to him as they spoke. Her brunette friend gave me a smile that seemed to say: “Can you believe them?”

An hour, and God only knows how many drinks, later—not long after Eth had left with the redhead—the brunette and I were locked in a passionate kiss. Although I couldn’t say how it happened, I wasn’t in a hurry to stop it either. I was fairly certain that I hadn’t initiated the contact, but being able to do something other than mourn things that I could never have and hate myself for the choices I’d made was actually something of a relief.

Feeling desire and need, even if it was only through the haze of a boozy night, was definitely preferable to yet another night spent drinking myself into oblivion.

The next morning, I woke with a raging hangover, a naked brunette draped across my body, and a newfound level of disgust for myself.