“Already texted a few people on the way here,” Millie replied. “I’ll make a list of everyone and call.”
“Rolfe—“
“Clean up,” Rolfe grunted. “Got it.”
“No,” Sam said. “Thorn and his legion here can clean up. I want you running ahead home to make sure no one has infiltrated while we’ve been gone. I imagine a few of Firemoor’s spies might have seen us leave this morning. Or noticed the horde of demons on the highways.”
A few of the men and women around them seemed to find the statement funny, and for the first time, Ana actually looked at the people who had accompanied Sam to find her.
These were people she’d seen on the streets. Everyday people that she assumed were… well, human. And she realized then the extent of the people who had come with Sam after the last war. The number of people biding their time and waiting to take their revenge.
People that had been waiting for her.
Sam pulled Ana’s hand to his lips, holding her gaze as he said, “Let’s go home.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT
WIND CURSED AND splintered over the scratches on Ana’s skin as they rode away on his motorcycle. Even with Sam’s leather jacket around her, she had to bury herself behind his body to keep the cuts from ripping her apart. Sam kept one hand on hers around his waist, his thumb brushing her knuckles, a reassuring gesture that he was there. That she was okay—thattheywere okay.
But even through her hazy state, all she could think about were the words Sam had just said, about how he would let no one hurt her and how she was his. About the line he always told her, of how he was terrified of the things he would do to keep her.
He was hiding things from her, and she wanted to know everything.
“Pull over,” Ana yelled from his back as they looped over the oceanside ridge.
Sam stiffened. “What?”
“Pull over!”
“It’s going to rain,” he shouted back. “We need to—“
“Samarius, you pull over right now, or I’m jumping off.”
Her warning made him bristle at her over his shoulder, and on the next turn, at the cliffside overlook, Sam slowed the bike in the awaiting dirt.
Ana nearly threw herself off before he’d balanced it and cut the engine. Her bare feet staggered in the cold soil, chilling wind circling, and she paused at the roadside railing.
That singular ray of sunlight stared back at her from far across the seas.
“Tell me how you would keep me,” she said as the first drop of rain hit her cheek. She glanced back over her shoulder, seeing Sam staring at her from his leaned stance on the bike, arms wrapped over his elbows. He watched her with downcast eyes, something akin to rage slowly spreading in his gaze and his taut jaw. He looked right briefly and then back to her as he pushed off the bike.
“You’re going to freeze, Ana,” he said, his tone a warning as he ignored her statement. “We need to get you healed. Get back on the bike. We’ll talk at the castle.”
Rain stung her body, but Ana didn’t care.
She wanted answers.
“No,” she argued, stepping away as he approached. “You always said you are terrified of the things you would do to keep me. You just started war when you could have let me die to keep your family, your kingdom, your people… all of them could have been safe. All you had to do is let Firemoor take me. Instead, you’ve chosen to ‘keep me’ as you continue to say. So tell me why. Tell mehow.”
“It is not that simple,” he replied.
“Try me,” she snapped. “I have read the witch texts of Firemoor, studied the rituals from the wastelands of Icemyer. I have heard the ways Death claims his demons and slaves—“
“I donothave slaves.” He was towering over her in a split, but Ana didn’t back down.
“Then tell me,Death,” and the word seethed from her lips. “Tell me what you would do to keep me.”
Sam huffed in annoyance, then wiped the rain off his face as he stepped back in a circle. For a few moments, he didn’t speak. Lightning struck in the distance, and just as Ana opened her mouth to speak again, Sam said,
