Queen of Night
Book Six in the Thorne Hill Series
Emily Goodwin
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Thank you
About the Author
Also by Emily Goodwin
Queen of Night
Book Six in the Thorne Hill Series
Copyright 2020
Emily Goodwin
Cover photography by Braadyn Penrod
Cover art by Covers by Christian
Editing by Contagious Edits
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
* * *
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events or places is purely coincidental.
Created with Vellum
To the real life Callies. Keep fighting.
Chapter 1
I take a step back, unable to tear my eyes away from the spot where Lucifer was just standing. My lips part, and my racing heart echoes loudly in my ears as I try to make sense of what just happened.
Abby got shot, and it was my fault. I threw up a telekinetic shield without even thinking. It was a reflex, something I do automatically when I’m in danger. And I deflected the bullet from myself, sending it rebounding right into my sister’s stomach.
I blink and look down at her unmoving body. There’s a small puddle of blood on the floor beneath her, and her clothes are stained. Her chest steadily rises and falls, and she looks peaceful, lying on the floor fast asleep despite almost dying.
And it’s all thanks to Lucifer.
Lucifer.
He’s out of Hell. He’s free to walk around the Earth. And…and I think he wants my baby. A lump rises in my throat, and I bring my bloody hands to my stomach, protectively guarding the little life inside me from…from…what?
What is Lucifer going to do? Stab my in the gut while I sleep? Wait until the baby is born and then steal her? Kidnap me, lock me away in one of the circles of Hell, buried so deep down in the pit no one can find me?
My eyes flutter shut, and I have to remind myself to breathe so I don’t pass out. It’ll be okay. Somehow, some way, it’ll be okay.
Because it always is.
I’ve gotten myself into some shitty situations before, and I’ve always come out alive. Barely alive, but I’ve come out. Sooner or later the odds will catch up to me. Sooner or later, I won’t make it out unscathed.
Abby’s eyes flutter open and she starts to stir. There’s blood all around her, her shirt is torn, and there’s a smear of blood on the front door from where Roger’s head it.
“Somnum,” I say in a panic, holding my hand out as I cast a sleep spell on Abby.
There’s no reason she has to remember this.
Lucifer’s words echo in my head. He’s right. She doesn’t need to remember this. I’ve already put her through so much in just the last few weeks, starting with showing up on her doorstep in a frantic panic because Lucas wasn’t healing.
But if I’m going to alter her memory, I need to clean things up. I stand there, looking at the blood on the floor, and start to feel sick. The reality of what happened is starting to crash down on me, and paired with the morning sickness I already felt, I know I’m going to—
Oh shit.
I bring my hand to my face to cover my mouth, which I realize instantly was a mistake since my hands are covered in Abby’s blood. I barely make it to the sink in time, throwing up the crackers I ate just a few minutes ago.
I pitch forward, hands slipping on the quartz counters. My throat hurts and my nose burns from violently puking. Taking a few seconds to catch my breath, I push up, turn on the sink, and wash the blood off my hands before rinsing the vomit down the disposal.
Clean. I have to clean the blood up. I know what I have to do, but my mind refuses to work right now. Deep down, I know I’m in shock, and I want nothing more than to sink down onto the rug in front of the sink, call Lucas, and have him come over and help me deal with everything.
But it’s only half past noon. The sun is out high and bright in the sky. It’s one of those rare warm days in October, one I’d call second summer as a joke since the weather goes from nice and beautiful to cold and dreary in the blink of an eye.
Even if Lucas were able to leave and get here without burning, none of the windows are covered in Abby’s house. It would take time—more than I can afford—to cast spells and seal up this house from harmful rays. Abby will be waking up soon, and while I can cast another sleeping spell on her, I can’t stop Phil and Penny from walking through the front door.
Sucking in another breath, I turn and start opening and closing cabinets, looking for rags to start cleaning the blood. My phone, which is still on the counter, buzzes. I whirl around, thinking it’s Lucas calling. I can’t answer and lie to him, but I can’t tell him the truth. He’d risk everything to come over and help me, and I can’t deal with him almost burning to death right now. I just can’t.
It’s Easton, and I grab my phone with trembling hands. I intend to hang up but answer on accident since my fingers are shaking so much.
“Callie!” he yells as soon as the phone connects.
“H-hello?” I bring the phone to my ear.
“Thank fucking god. Listen, Roger knows you cast a spell on him and is pissed as fuck. He’s coming after you right now. I was following him but lost him somewhere in Lincoln Park.”
“I know.”
“You do?”
“Yeah,” I say, surprised at how steady my voice is. “He was here.”
“Fuck, you’re okay?”
“I am. He shot me.”
“What?” Easton repeats. “But you’re okay?”
“Yeah. I…I…” My eyes fall shut.
“Where are you?” Easton asks, sounding panicked.
Swallowing a lump in my throat, I open my eyes and suck in a shaky breath. “My sister’s house.”
“Be more specific, Callie, I’m coming over. I’ll deal with Roger.”
“You…you don’t have to. He’s dealt with.” I exhale heavily and look through the kitchen, expecting to see Lucifer reappear.
“What do you mean?”
“He’s gone, and he’s not coming back.”
“Send me a pin with your location. I’m coming.”
I pull my phone away from my ear and hesitate. The less people who know the better, but time isn’t on my side and Abby has security cameras in the ho
use. Deleting the footage is the last thing I know how to do, and I need to make sure it’s done properly so no one is able to recover it.
I’d ask Lucas, but…I flick my eyes from the phone to the window. The sun is insulting, it’s so bright. Before I have time to second-guess myself, I send Easton my location.
“I’m only a few minutes away,” he says.
“Okay. Don’t ring the doorbell.” I end the call and set my phone down, then continue my search for cleaning products. All the lower cabinets in the kitchen are baby-proofed, and in my frazzled state, it takes me a few tries to get the cabinet below the sink open.
Grabbing a bottle of Lysol and a roll of paper towels, I hurry into the foyer and kneel down by the front door. I spray the blood smear and ball up a few paper towels, carefully wiping up the blood without smearing it. I’m no crime scene expert, but I know enough to try and contain the mess as much as possible.
And I’ll have to get Lucas to come over later and make sure all the blood is gone. He can still smell it after it’s been cleaned, but maybe I’ll bring a blacklight for good measure.
Because there’s no way around it: I killed Roger in Abby’s house. If his Order of the Mystic Realm hunting buddies come looking for him, they’ll come here, right? Roger knew where I was.
But how?
“It doesn’t matter,” I mutter, shaking my head. I fold the paper towel in half, keeping the blood on the inside, and wipe up the red-stained bleach spray that’s rolling down the door. I unroll a few more paper towels and lay them out on the floor so I can put the bloody ones on top.
My hands start shaking again, and I have to turn and watch Abby’s chest rise and fall a few times, making sure she’s okay. Lucifer healed her, just like how my father healed me when I was sick. She made a complete recovery, and it was like the bullet never entered her body.
The bullet.
It’s still on the floor next to Abby. Standing, I take a step to get it but see something out of the corner of my eye. I turn and see Easton bound up the porch steps. I telekinetically open the door and slam it shut behind him once he’s in the house.
“Callie, what’s—holy fuck.” His brown eyes widen, and he looks at Abby lying on the floor. “Is she—”
“She’s fine,” I rush out. Tears spring to my eyes, as the fear of almost losing my sister crashes down on me all over again. Easton shifts his gaze from Abby to the blood on my hands.
“What the fuck is going on?” he asks slowly and looks around the foyer. “Where’s Roger? Did he get away?”
“No,” I say with a shake of my head. “I’m pretty sure I killed him, but I told you, he’s gone and won’t be found.”
Easton looks at me unblinking for a few seconds, and then goes over to Abby, dropping to his knees and checking her pulse.
“She’s asleep,” I start. “Obviously. I cast a sleep spell on her.”
“It looks like she’s been shot.” Easton carefully pulls up Abby’s shirt. “But there’s no wound.”
“She was shot, but…but…” The less people who know the truth the better, I know. But how the fuck am I supposed to explain this to Easton? I need his help, and I know he’s stubborn enough to refuse to help until he hears what he wants.
“She was healed.”
“By magic?”
“Yes,” I say, and it’s not technically a lie. It is a type of magic. “I’ll explain it all later, I promise.” I actually don’t promise. “But Abby’s husband and daughter could be home any minute now and I don’t want them to walk in and see this.”
“Okay.” Easton stands, holding his right hand out in front of him. His fingertips have Abby’s blood on them from when he checked her for bullet wounds. I rip off another paper towel and give it to him. “Should you wake her now?”
“No.”
He tips his head. “You’re going to take away her memory, aren’t you?”
“Yes, there’s no reason she has to remember this,” I repeat Lucifer’s words. “She’s already been subjected to so much because of me and who I am. This…she doesn’t need to remember.”
Easton swallows hard, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. “Are you sure it’ll work?”
“Taking away her memory?”
“Yeah. Being brain-raped isn’t something I’d usually support, but if you’re going to do it, make sure she doesn’t get flashes. No dreams about getting shot and waking up wondering if it actually happened or not.” He looks at the broken ginger jar on the floor. “You need an explanation for all this.”
“Thanks, Captain Obvious,” I snap. “And I know. It’ not my first time changing someone’s memories or being brain raped as you so nicely put it.”
“Hey,” he spits right back. “You don’t know what it’s like having someone get into your head like that.” He jams his finger into his temple. “To have pieces missing that you know are missing yet you can’t for the life of you make sense of it. You feel like you’ve lost your shit.”
“No, I don’t, and you hunters really need to let that go. Witches can’t be held spellbound, and when you finally admit you’re jealous, maybe it’ll lead you in the right direction and you’ll stop hunting us.”
“That has nothing to do with this, Callie.”
I set my jaw and glare at Easton. We’ve come a long way from the star-crossed teenage lovers he tricked me into believing we were. I’ve moved on and have truly forgiven him, and now I feel confident trusting him.
I think. Maybe? Shit. I really need to trust him right now.
“Fine,” I sigh. “I’m sorry you were held spellbound and felt like you had someone pry their way into your mind and take away your memories. It does sound kind of shitty.”
“Kind of?”
“More than kind of then, happy?”
“I don’t want to fight. I’m sorry too.”
“Thank you.” I take in a breath and my stomach flip-flops again. I’m certain there’s nothing left to come up but bile at this point and thinking about it burning my nose makes me feel even more sick. “I don’t want to do anything that would hurt Abby, and I think removing this from her memory is the lesser of two evils. She’s been trying so hard to hang out and reconnect.”
“I agree with you there. But what are you going to do? Strip her down, scrub the blood from her skin, and change her clothes?”
“I hadn’t thought that far ahead, but a glamour would be easier than doing all that. She’ll think her clothes look like they did before she got shot.” Saying the words out loud are like a punch to the face. I close my eyes, trying to keep tears at bay.
“Hey,” Easton says gently and steps over. He puts his hand on my shoulder. “It’s okay.”
“But it’s not.” I open my eyes and blink rapidly, failing at keeping the tears from rolling down my cheeks. “I hate that she got involved. I hate that she got shot. Shot. She got shot and was dying before my eyes and then…” I trail off, voice thin and throat tight.
“You healed her?”
“I had help.” I wipe my face with the back of my hand. “I’ll explain later,” I repeat. “We need to clean this all up and then somehow figure out how to remove the footage from her security system.” I point to the camera in the corner.
“I can do that,” Easton tells me and lets his hand slowly slide down my shoulder. Lucas told me months ago that he thought Easton was still in love with me. I dismissed it at the time, and I don’t have the luxury of mulling it over now. Besides, what does it matter? I’m very happily married with a baby on the way.
“You can?”
“Yeah. And if I can’t, I can call Melinda for help. She was always the go-to when we needed to hack into traffic cams. And we’ve needed to remove our fair share of demon-related killings too.”
“I have no idea what kind of security system she has, but I think she can access it on her phone.”
“Do you know her password to get onto her phone?”
“No, but it has facial recognition.”
>
“Good. Where is it?”
“The kitchen,” I tell him and point through the foyer.
“Are you okay to handle this?” Easton asks before he takes a step forward.
“Yeah. I’ll get it. Thank you again.”
He nods and hurries into the kitchen to get Abby’s phone. I go back to the door, spraying it down with cleaner again. The smell chokes me, and I get up to open a window. The less I have to alter in Abby’s mind the better, and explaining why her house suddenly smells like the cleaning crew had just been here is one less thing to worry about.
Easton comes back and holds the phone over Abby’s face, unlocking it. “I’m familiar with this system,” he tells me. “Give me a few minutes and I’ll have it removed.”
“There’s a camera on the porch too. It’ll show Roger coming up to the house.”
“I’ll take care of it.” He turns and goes into the office on the other side of the foyer to use the computer. I turn my attention back to the door, wiping it down two more times for good measure. Then I move over to my sister, who still looks disturbingly peaceful lying the ground covered in blood.
I wipe up the blood around her and stand up, feeling slightly woozy. Get it together, Callie. Abby’s shirt is soaked in blood. I can pull off the glamour it will take to make her see herself as she was before, but I’m going to need to get her to get out of her clothes and into the shower sooner rather than later. And then…then…fuck. I’m going to have to take her clothes and throw them away.
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