Page 137 of Prodigal Son

“I guess.” She crossed her arms and stared out the window. “You wanna know the strangest thing? I feel like I had it and I lost it.”

“With Adrian?”

She gagged at the mere mention of her ex. “No, not with Adrian. With no one. I mean, there hasn’t been anyone else, but I feel like I somehow know what love felt like. I can’t explain it. I never used to feel this way. It’s like I loved someone and they died but took all our memories with them. I just have this endless grief and longing inside of me for…I don’t know what.” She glanced at her brother. “I sound crazy, don’t I?” She definitely had too much to drink.

“You sound sad. Maybe you need a trip home. Sometimes I feel empty when I miss Mom and Dad.”

It was sweet of him to empathize, but she knew that wasn’t it. Nothing filled this void. It was like a part of her was gone, but she couldn’t remember which part, so any chance of finding it again was also gone.

For a brief moment tonight, she actually thought that man at the bar might save her. There was something so beautiful and familiar about him, but he was a stranger. A married stranger who hopefully wasn’t following her home.

With a sigh, she glanced in the rearview mirror. Another wedding. Another hangover. Another reminder that she was alone.

CHAPTER 40

Dane couldn’t believe it. Despite the bishop being a total dick most of the time, the guy could be surprisingly generous. And cool.

Learning that he’d been adopted was a tough pill to swallow, but then to find out his biological father was actually immortal and the worst sort, had been a total punch to the gut. Dane didn’t have a problem with immortals, he just didn’t want to be one. He liked Gracie and he liked Cain. The Hartzlers were all pretty nice. But everyone else left him on edge. And Christian, his older-than-dirt, asshole half-brother, didn’t make matters any better with his half-breed comment.

Dane hoped the blood test might prove there was still some hope for saving Cybil, but that didn’t look likely. According to the bishop, Cybil’s deranged mind was incurable.

In a moment of panic, he considered running away, leaving Cybil and disappearing without a word. But what would happen to him if he started getting cravings? He didn’t want to drink blood, but if he needed to for survival, he wanted someone like Cain or Gracie to walk him through it.

He was a freak. Not fully human and not fully immortal. He missed the outside world but also started to fear it, having gone too long away from all the noise and motion. He didn’t belong there, and he was certain he’d always be an outcast here—until he learned about Magdalene.

Beautiful, vibrant, bubbly Magdalene. She looked more like a Maggie. After speaking to her, he felt calmer and more optimistic about his fate. The thought of drinking blood still turned his stomach, but having super healing powers sounded kind of cool. He only regretted that there was no way of knowing if Cybil had such healing powers. Deep down, he knew they were different. If she had been like him, the bull might not have killed her.

After meeting Maggie, Dane needed time to process. He wanted to talk to Gracie about everything, but she said she was busy and blew him off. She’d been acting strange lately, and he didn’t know what her problem was.

He had visited the safe house and told Cybil, but she only looked at him and prowled about in her cell. But the witch, Juniper, had overheard everything.

“You’re one of them.”

Startled by the witch’s sudden interest, he drew back. “You’re awake.”

“Just because I choose not to look at you people, doesn’t mean I’m unconscious. I’ve been listening for months.”

He scowled, blaming her for harming the Hartzlers. “I’m not one of them. And mind your own business.”

“Your father was one, so what does that mean?”

He hardened his glare. “It means that I could probably kill you without breaking a sweat, so why don’t you go back to your cot, little girl.”

She laughed without moving her lips or eyes. “Careful, boy.”

He scoffed. “You don’t scare me. I heard all about you crying when Gracie ripped your aunt’s throat out.”

“Fuck off!”

“What? Not so tough now?”

Cybil sensed his hostility, getting some sort of charge out of it. She growled and purred, rattling the bars as she laughed maniacally.

“Oh, please,” the witch said. “I have more power in my little pinkie than you have in your entire body.”

“If you had any power you would have used it to avenge your aunt.”

“Like you used your power to avenge your mom?”

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