Page 78 of Burn Falls

“Athan!” Draven roared and turned to face him in the backseat. “That’s not what I said to tell her.”

“Said to tell me?”

“We can communicate telepathically.”

“Oh,” I breathed. “That’s cool.”

Athan leaned forward and stuck his head between the two front seats. “Calla, killing is in our blood, but Draven and I have vowed never to kill those who don’t deserve it. But I need to get blood somehow, and Valencia is that person while I’m in Seattle. I won’t kill her, but I need to survive.”

“But you don’t need to compel her.”

“We don’t make it a habit of telling humans what we are, sweetheart.” Draven reached over and squeezed my knee.

“Valencia won’t care. She’s my best friend and a fucking cool chick.”

“She is,” Athan agreed. “But when this is all over with, she’ll be in Seattle, and it won’t matter anymore.”

I bobbed my head slowly in agreement because I understood what they were telling me. I just wished things were different.

After pulling up to the departures terminal, I got out to say goodbye to Draven.

“I’ll call you tomorrow, sweets.”

“I’ll be counting down the days and then hours.”

“Me too. Thursday night, Martin and Athan will load the truck for us, and then Friday when I get in, we’ll drive as far as we can.”

Airport security started to walk toward us to hurry us along so other cars could pull in and drop people off. “Kiss me before it’s too late.”

And then he did.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Chicago – 1932

“You ready to go?” Athan asked, coming into our room.

“Yeah,” I said as I finished tying my shoe.

Every night Athan and I headed to the underground casino that was run by Renzo. We kept an eye on the tables to make sure the house won. If someone were cheating or getting lucky, we’d step in and throw them out, or compel them to forget how to play and fold all their good hands. If I’d had compulsion when I was a human, I would have been a rich man and maybe not have been playing the night I was turned.

“Boss wants to see you.”

I looked up to see Samuel enter the room. “What for?” I asked.

“Does it matter?” he questioned back.

I looked at Athan, and he shrugged. I fucking hated Renzo Cavalli for what he’d made me do to my family—for what he did to Mary—and for the past four years, I’d tried to stay out of his crosshairs by just being the card guy and making him money—making sure the house came out on top.

“Enter,” Renzo ordered when I knocked on his door.

I walked into the room, and Athan stayed in the hall to wait for me. “You wanted to see me?”

“Why haven’t you handled Malone?”

I balked. “Malone?”

“Yes, fucking Malone,” he roared. “He’s stealing my money. That’s a problem.”