Page 60 of Burn for the Devil

“Well maybe if you weren’t naked half of the time?—”

“In the privacy of my own home,” I interrupted, trying not to laugh.

She and Alastair had stayed in my guest room once and I wasn’t naked, but I might as well have been, and I caught her eyeing me with some admiration. I’m not stupid—I knew it meant nothing, but there was just something so appealing about teasing her I couldn’t help myself.

The look on her face was entirely worth the antagonizing. As a bonus, it distracted me from the darker subjects I’d been mulling over.

“You knew I’d see you,” she insisted.

Alastair pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes for a second. “The two of you can banter later. Ramone, you need to see this.” He grabbed the book from her and tossed it to me.

It landed with a thud, skidding toward me. Lifting my eyes to my friend, he nodded at me. Slowly, I perused the pages while he and Devane made themselves at home, raiding the bar before settling on a couch on the other side of the room.

“Where did you get this?” I asked after several minutes.

Devane tugged her legs from her husband’s lap. “Stephan’s girlfriend. She found it in the library of Lucian’s home, before they left that realm.”

“Did they know you were bringing it to me?”

Devane glanced at Alastair. “I don’t think so?”

“That’s not an answer,” I snapped at her. She glanced at the ceiling as if petitioning a higher power.

Ilya chose that moment to let himself into the office, doing a double take when he spotted my unexpected guests. He recovered quickly, nodding a greeting before settling into one of the chairs facing the desk and lighting a cigarette.

“Do you mind?” Devane complained.

Ilya turned his head slightly. “No.” Devane let out a tiny huff.

“What?” I snarled at the man in front of me.

Ilya’s eyes glowed red and the mist that accompanied him took on a crimson hue. I’d angered him—more than usual. Drawing a deep breath, I reigned in some of my aggression.

“Against my better judgment, againstanyone’sbetter judgment, I’m trying to help you. To help us.” He tapped the edge of his cigarette, dropping ash onto the floor. “I know we have an unfortunate history, but this is only going to work if you knock it the fuck off.”Unfortunatewas too mild a term.

Gone were the days when I didn’t give a fuck. I’d had a blissful existence, enforcing my will upon others, with no one daring to stop me or to intervene. The exact moment that change happened escaped me. We’d all worked together for ages and our ties had focused solely on loyalty, family, and individual advantages.

Any care we took for others was based upon furthering our own goals—nothing else. The only area more caution was taken was in romantic relationships, with our own kind. I’d been a stranger to guilt and empathy and the arrival of those poisons in my life was proving difficult and confusing to navigate.

How was I supposed to take over when my father stepped down, or chose to be extinguished, when I was burdened with those two distinctly human emotions?

Ilya was staring at me, waiting for me to respond to his plea that I “knock it the fuck off”.

“Fine. Why are you here?” I tried to modulate my voice, yet I knew my frustration resonated throughout the room.

He unbuttoned his suit jacket before speaking. “A few things. For one, thank you for reading your emails for once.” Alastair snickered and Ilya gave him side-eye before continuing. “Second—there is a notable connection between the women we keep finding.”

Devane perked up, listening intently. This was right up her alley with her proclivity toward research.

“Samantha and both Alastair and Stefan’s girlfriends are all part of the Thorne family line. I’ve mapped it out and done some digging and everyone is connected in some way, even if only as very distant cousins. These women are all in the same general geographical area. They may have gone to the same schools, worked at the same establishments, been friends of friends, et cetera. Its more than just shared genes.”

Ilya added, “I’ve hacked into whatever DNA databases I could find and interestingly, none of them are in any. For some reason, despite the popularity of genetic testing for entertainment, not a single woman has gone digging for their family history, wondering where they came from.”

“Oh, that is super strange,” Devane said. “I’ve had several friends do that and not once did I ever think ‘oh I should do that.’ The thought never occurred to me.”

“Did you try and then feel a resistance?” I asked her. If she had, it would have been indicative of a spell or curse.

Devane shook her head. “No, not at all. It literally didn’t occur to me.”

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