Kiss of Vengeance by Samantha Young Page 0,50

familiar voice caused a confusing mix of love and resentment to flood her.

“Hi.” She found her voice to reply.

“Where are you?”

“I’m safe—that’s all that matters.”

“Rose, you have to know you’re in danger. It’s hard to explain—”

“You don’t need to. I know everything. I know what I am. I know why I’m in danger.”

There was a moment of silence until her father cleared his throat. “Then tell us where you are and we’ll come get you.”

“No. Cancel the flight to Zagreb.”

Her parents murmured quietly between themselves. “How did you know we booked a flight?” her mom asked.

Rose felt her lips quirk in bitter amusement. “Because I’ve met a few friends who have divulged more to me than my own goddamn parents ever did. And these friends have eyes and ears everywhere.”

Fionn scowled, and she swore she could sense he felt betrayed on her behalf.

Huh.

“… and we thought if you didn’t know, it would never be an issue. We never thought the spell would break.” Her parents had spoken while she studied Fionn.

“A vampire attacked me outside a club,” Rose replied quietly. “He smacked my head against the ground and, poof, spell broken. But someone came to help—he’s teaching me about my powers.” She found she couldn’t meet Fionn’s gaze as she spoke of him because her feelings flooded to the surface. There wasn’t much she didn’t mind him knowing, but her stronger-than-usual feelings for an immortal man she barely knew was not one of those things.

“Who is this person? How do you know you can trust him?”

Irritated by her mother’s interrogation, she bit out, “Well, he told me the truth and you didn’t, so …”

“Rose”—her dad sighed—“we did what we could. We couldn’t chance staying with the coven because if the spell broke while we were in Dublin, there would be no escaping them. You have to know they can use things that belong to you to trace you.”

“I know that. My … friend has already taken care of that?” Her glanced at Fionn, and he nodded.

“The jacket is destroyed,” he informed her.

Relief flooded her. “Yeah, it’s definitely taken care of. Everything in my apartment and at the club has been destroyed, so they can’t trace me anymore. And they don’t know about you. I’m pissed as all hell, but it would kill me if something happened to you, so stay put. If I find out they’ve discovered where you are, I’ll give you a heads-up.”

“How can you do that?” her mom demanded. “Rose, we need to come to you. Your father and I are not incapable. We are two of the coven’s most powerful members.”

She closed her eyes at the desperation and panic in her mother’s voice. “Mom … no matter how powerful you are”—she opened her eyes and they locked with Fionn’s—“you’ll never be as powerful as me. I’ve already … I’ve already killed to defend myself,” she admitted, the confession burning in her throat. “I’m not a powerless little girl anymore. I’m not afraid of your coven.”

And she found that she wasn’t. She had incredible abilities at her fingertips, and she had Fionn Mór on her side. “Your coven should be afraid of me.”

At her statement, something wonderful happened.

Fionn’s lips pressed together and curved into a small smile of respect.

A warm ache expanded in her chest. She felt about ten feet tall.

“You don’t sound like yourself,” her dad commented.

“No, Dad, I finally sound like myself. Stay put. If I think you’re out there trying to find me, getting on the coven’s radar, you’ll distract me. I need to stay focused.”

“They won’t stop coming, Rose,” her mother whispered. “Are you just going to run for the rest of your life?”

“Let them come.” Determination blazed inside her. “I’ve done nothing wrong but be born different. If they try to take me out, I’ll take them out instead. Until there’s nothing left of them.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“Would you have me stand still and let them kill me?” she bit out.

“What about your soul, Rose? It may be self-defense but it’s still murder.”

“And it’ll mark my soul,” she echoed Fionn’s words and saw something dark flicker across his face. “Every single one. The day it doesn’t is the day I’m lost for good.”

“That day won’t come,” her father said. “You’ll never lose your soul, my darling, but the weight of those marks will drag you down.”

“Then I’ll try to avoid it,” she promised. “If I have to live my life constantly on the move, I will.” And she realized the thought didn’t

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