Gena Showalter - Burning Dawn

The girls snickered.

Bjorn, aka Rainbow, had found the pale-haired, blue-eyed Fae as a child, after her parents had kicked her out of her realm, Séduire, for reasons Chanel refused to state.

Steps hesitant—was this a trick?—Elin closed the distance. The girls made room for her, and suddenly she was peering out at the most gorgeous setting sun. Pink and purple spilled across an endless expanse of gold and blue. Clouds were in the process of thinning and breaking apart, wisps of white forming an intricate game of connect the dots.

“Beyond lovely.” She’d never seen the sky so up close and personal.

“I don’t think we’re looking at the same thing,” Octavia said. Thane had rescued the brunette bombshell from humans determined to hammer a giant nail through her beating heart. “As a plasmaterian, I think it’s lovely. And magically delicious. But I doubt we share the same tastes. Glance down, petal.”

Petal? It was better than “Servant Girl.” She glanced down—and screamed. Phoenix after Phoenix lined the courtyard in front of the club, each body held in place by multiple stakes. Blood dripped from each of the victims, creating infinite pools of red.

Elin pressed a fist into her mouth to stop another scream from escaping. As her stomach churned with sickness, she backed away from the window.

Most of the immortal races are vicious, her mother once told her. They are predators whose instincts have been honed by a single blade—survival of the fittest. Remember that. And if ever I’m not around to protect you, trust no one and use everyone. Do you understand? It’s the only way you’ll survive.

Elin’s chin trembled. Thoughts of her mother’s life always came with thoughts of her death. Annnd, there they were. Renlay’s image flashed. She was sprawled across the floor of her tent, drenched in sweat and blood, clutching her dead baby in her arms, crying as her life drained away.

Heart...breaking all over again...

“One thing is clear, girls,” Bellorie said, tugging Elin away from the dark place she’d been racing toward. “We need to wear rain boots the next time we leave the club.”

That was what was clear?

“Baking soda and vinegar might work on bloodstains,” the girl continued blithely, “but they do not work on blood soaks.”

Xerxes had purchased the redheaded stunner from the slave market and set her free. But like Elin, her family was dead and she was alone; she’d chosen to come here.

“Do you think Thane will greet all fire whores with a stake from now on?” Savy was the youngest of the group, and the most exquisite, with her blue-black hair, golden eyes, and toffee-colored skin. She’d once aided Thane, “the darling man,” during a mission, and he’d rewarded her with a home and a job.

The darling man? It was hard for Elin to reconcile the magnanimous Thane these girls had described with the cold, withdrawn Thane who had shoved her at his friend, disappeared, forgotten about her, and then, oh, yeah, decorated his walkway with living beings.

Who was the real Thane?

Actions mattered more than words. So. This one, she thought, was the truest reflection of him. No question. She shuddered, horrified. Thane might do this to her, if ever she crossed him.

Might? Ha! He was just like lightning. Pretty to look at, but dangerous and deadly. At the first sign of a storm, he would strike at her.

“Yeah. Probably,” Bellorie finally said. “Revenge goggles will paint targets on all their backs.”

Well, that settled it: Thane could not know of Elin’s mixed heritage.

Thane must not ever know.

Use the girls for information.

“Has, uh, he ever done anything like this before?”

One by one, they turned to face her. Their expressions ranged from pity to resignation.

“He’s always been brutal when it comes to his enemies. I mean, we’ve heard the results of some of his torture sessions with demons,” Savy replied. “Trust me, that Sent One knows how to work a blade.”

“And a hammer.”

“And a hacksaw.”

“And a bow and arrow.”

“But he’s never done anything this violent to so many at once,” Savy finished. “At least, not to my knowledge.”

“Don’t worry, petal,” Octavia added. “He’s very good to his employees. As long as you don’t steal from him, you’ll be fine.”

“Or lie to him.”

“Or betray him.”

“Or insult one of his friends.”

“Or try to physically harm him,” Octavia said with a shrug.

Elin gulped a mouthful of acid. I once cut him with glass.

Would he remember and retaliate?

She decided then and there to be such a good employee, he would never have any reason to punish her...or talk to her...or notice her in any way.

If ever I decide to write my biography, I’m calling it Head Plus Sand Equals Buried. Like the rest of me might be, if I’m not careful.

“Oh, a word of advice.” Wagging a finger in her face, Bellorie said, “Don’t try to lure Thane into your bed.”

“Or a closet.”

“Or onto a kitchen table.”

“Or the floor.”

Bellorie nodded in wholehearted agreement.

“Uh, don’t worry,” Elin said. Bay’s life hadn’t just been cut short. Bay’s life had been cut short because of her. Her! Because she’d surrendered to her feelings for him, dragging him into the crosshairs of the Phoenix.

If he couldn’t live to the fullest, she wouldn’t live to the fullest, either. Fair was fair.

And, yes, it was a self-inflicted punishment; a therapist could probably excavate a gold mine of neuroses out of her. But she’d made up her mind, and she was sticking to it.

So, that wasn’t you panting after Thane and his massive hard-on?

Whatever. A woman would have to be comatose to miss Thane and his hard-on.

“Anyway, Thane doesn’t sleep with his staff,” Bellorie continued. “Don’t get me wrong. I could totally seduce him if I wanted. I’m that good. But I choose to dial down my sexual appeal while I’m here. FYI, that’s why you haven’t jumped me, Elin. You’re welcome.”

Savy rolled her eyes. “You are beyond mistaken, Rocket.”

Interesting nickname. “How dare you!” Bellorie stomped her foot. “Elin would totally jump me if I unleashed my full prowess!”

The siren pinched the bridge of her nose. “Why do I even bother? I wasn’t talking about your sexual prowess, moron.”

Instantly appeased, Bellorie waved her hand through the air. “Then you may continue.”

“He does sleep with his staff,” Chanel tossed Elin’s way, “but only very rarely. And once the deed is done, the girl is gone. She never works here again. Never even comes back for an effing drink—because she’s forever barred from the effing premises.”

Got it. Thane was a serial bang and bailer.

According to her friends at college, it took a pretty hard-core personality to be a repeat offender. The shame of the broken hearts left behind and all that.

After a while, Elin had developed an unhealthy dread of being used. Not because she didn’t think she could handle the emotional baggage, but because her mother would have found out—Renlay always found out—and would have gone hunting for vengeance.

Renlay wouldn’t have been able to beat a second assault and battery charge.

Yeah. Try being that girl. The one whose mother broke a girl’s nose for giving her precious daughter a case of the sniffles.

Renlay might have lived among the humans, but she’d never been fully tamed.

A vise squeezed at Elin’s heart. Her eyes misted over.

When Elin had realized things with Baylor Vale were serious, she’d suggested marriage, despite how young they were. He loved her more than anything, he’d said, and happily whisked her off to Vegas. Three months later, he was dead and she was enslaved.