Page 91 of Burn Falls

“He keeps talking about going back to Russia.”

“Yeah, I think it’s safe to send him back, but I’m having a hard time chancing it.”

She looked up at me, and I placed a quick kiss on her soft lips. “It’s been a month. I think we’re in the clear.”

“You’re probably right.”

“Let me just finish this supply order, and then we can leave for the night.” She turned and moved to her chair at her desk.

“Do you want to go back to my place after dinner?” I asked, arching my eyebrow suggestively.

Calla flushed. “Sounds good. I’ve been curious what your house—I mean, Martin’s house looks like.”

I chuckled and sat on the edge of her desk. “I might have gifted it to Martin for the sole purpose of the deed, but it’s all mine.”

“Wait,” she looked up from her paperwork, pausing what she was writing. “How was it that I was able to invite you into my mom’s house then? I’m not on the deed.”

“It’s the owner of the house or someone who’s currently residing in the home. Since you were living there for Christmas, you were able to invite me in.”

“That’s kind of scary if you think about it with vampires and their compulsion.”

“There’s an unspoken rule to not manipulate a human into inviting them in so you can kill them.” The night I killed the man who killed Martin’s mother, I had done just that, but I wasn’t going to tell Calla that tidbit. “I haven’t known of any mysterious attacks since your father …” I trailed off as I caught a glimpse of an old photograph on the other edge of her desk.

Calla followed my gaze. “That’s my great-grandmother.”

My eyes flicked to hers, and if I had blood coursing through my veins, I knew that it would have drained away from my face. I reached for the framed photo and stared at it, not believing what—or who—I was seeing.

“Did you know her?” Calla asked.

“No,” I whispered, looking back at the man I despised. He was smiling, and I wanted to reach through the glass of the frame and straight to his heart and then rip it from his chest.

“Do you know the guy?”

“Doyouknow who he is?” I asked back. Had I mentioned his name to Calla? I was almost positive I had, but I didn’t recall Calla having any indication that she knew who Renzo was.

She stood and moved next to me, looking over my shoulder. “No, and neither does my mom. It’s not my great-grandpa, Jack either. Did you know him?” Calla asked again.

I stared into her emerald eyes, wishing I could compel her to tell me the truth. I didn’t believe she was telling me a lie, but with compulsion, it helped to know for a fact. “Are you sure you don’t know who this is?”

“No, not at all. Maybe my father did, but—”

“He’s my sire,” I blurted, wanting to gauge her reaction.

“What?” She breathed in a long breath, and I watched her face. She was surprised just like me.

“The vampire that turned me.”

“I got that, but how is that possible?”

“Was she a vampire?” I pointed at the woman in the picture. She had the same facial features as Calla, and if the photo were in color, I’d say the same chestnut hair and green eyes.

Calla sat back down in her office chair. “Of course not.”

“Are you sure?”

She balked. “Well, no, but my grandmother was born a few monthsafterthis picture was taken.”

My head literally felt as though it was spinning. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and dialed Athan.