City of Smoke and Brimstone (House of Devils, #4)

by Kayla Edwards

That was the problem with time: everyone always thought they had more of it.

“And I don’t know if I’d be able to protect you from him, if he ever decided to target you.”

“But I’d die trying.”

She wasn’t breathing.

Of course not.

“No matter how many times you try to die, I’m not letting you go, sweetheart. Ever.”

If Glen had made her feel uncomfortable in any way—if he’d even dared to look at her wrong—Darien would kill him. Tear him limb from limb.

It was easy to judge as an outsider looking in. Everyone always asked, ‘Why didn’t you run?’ When really, they should be asking, ‘Why did he make you feel like you had to?’

“Rev, rev, rev your boat, aggressively down the canaaaaal,” Malakai sang, his grating voice slicing through the fog, like a fork scraping across a plate. “Un-merrily, un-merrily, un-merrily, un-merrily, life is but a nightmaaaaaaaare.”

“Nine is fine. It just…reminded me of something.” Dean’s smile grew impossibly big. “Another pull-out incident?”

Pax said, “I slept on it. Roman doesn’t pull out.”

“I’m a little concerned where you heard this…joke…and what you think it means.” “I heard it from Darien,” Paxton replied.

“I feel like I just walked onto the set of some squirrelly porno.”

Engraved on the back of it in admirable calligraphy was the phrase, Love Must Always Win.

Okay, Crescent City.

“You stole my heart, Shay.” “Well, in my defense, I am a thief,”