Page 38 of Devil's Thirst

If I can’t trust my ability to know what’s right, where does that leave me?

Frozen, that’s where.

Four days of going through the motions of life without actually being present. But today is different. It’s Mother’s Day, and I have to summon enough energy to pass as human, or my sister will know something’s wrong.

Fortunately, the spotlight is on Noemi today—she’s married to Oran’s cousin Conner—and this is her first big outing after having twin boys a few months earlier. Eight women, half of which are pregnant. The estrogen in the room is overwhelming, as are the hugs and teary greetings.

They’re all so busy catching up and wrangling their hormones that my minimal effort is passable. I’m surprised to admit that being around them feels good. It could be the distraction alone that helps, but no matter the reason, I’ll take it.

“Noemi, how are you holding up? How are the boys?” asks Shae once we’ve all taken our seats. She’s Oran’s sister, so I’ve seen her around more than some of the others, but we’re about as opposite as you get. She’s also the only one actually born into the Byrne family rather than wed into the mix.

Out of all the women, I’d say I’m closest to Stormy since I’ve known her the longest. I’ve also spent a little time with Rowan because she’s a fellow dancer. I should try to spend more time with them. I think about Hazel’s comments and wonder what’s truly holding me back.

“They’re doing amazing, and I think we’re finally settling into a routine. It changes almost daily, but it’s still sort of a routine. Sort of.”

The group reassures her with a chorus of encouragement and laughter.

“It would be exhausting if it weren’t for Conner and all of you,” Noemi continues. “The meals. Taking Luna out and giving her loads of love and attention. It’s all been so incredibly helpful.” Aside from twin boys, she also has a daughter. Knowing what a handful Violet can be, I can’t imagine juggling twins as well.

“That’s what we’re here for,” Lina offers. “You reach out anytime you need us.”

“Hear, hear. I’ll drink to that.” The toast rings out, prompting everyone to raise their drinks. Mimosas for those of us who aren’t pregnant or breastfeeding, which is only three out of eight women because the family has been reproducing like rabbits lately.

“Sweet baby Jesus,” the girl next to me says under her breath. Pippa’s sister—I believe her name is Aria—is the closest to my age, and like myself, she’s a fringe member of the group. Younger and not a Byrne by blood or marriage. “Do not look all at once, but there is onefine-looking man at the bar.”

The group’s attempt at discretion would be comical if I wasn’t too busy reeling over what I see.WhoI see. Laughter and giddy whispers fill the air around me, but all I hear is the thundering of my heart pounding in my ears.

Isaac is here.

Why now? It can’t be a coincidence. Did he merely want to see what I was up to, or is he planning to finally talk to me? Do I want to talk to him?

Yes. Undoubtedly. I feel like I can breathe for the first time in four days.

“Amelie, you okay?”

The sound of my name draws my attention. I frantically try to pull myself together.

“Yeah.” I smile at Shae, who studies me more critically than I’d prefer. “Just a little tired.”

“Y’all, he’s staring right at us,” Stormy cries softly in her Southern twang. “And heisbeautiful but a little scary, too.”

Like everyone else at the table, I look at the devastatingly handsome man at the bar. Our eyes lock as he lifts a glass of amber liquid to his lips. The burn of his drink heats my insides as though I were the one holding the glass. His unrelenting stare strips me bare, scalding my skin and claiming me.

Not only has he not given up but he’s also doubling down on his efforts. I see it in the determined set of his jaw.

What does it mean? What does he plan to do?

“Holy shit.” The whispered curse echoes my thoughts but didn’t come from me.

I look across the table to Noemi who looks like she’s seen a ghost.

“Right?” Pippa says without looking at her cousin. “He looks like the best kind of trouble.”

“Pip, do you seriously not recognize him?” Noemi hisses back at her.

Recognize him? Confusion has my already chaotic thoughts stuttering. Does Noemi know Isaac?

Time and space seem to draw out like a piece of caramel stretched into a thin whisp of a string. When Noemi finally explains, she sweeps the floor right out from beneath me.

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