Thorns by Kate Avery Ellison Page A

outside the window. In my mind’s eye I saw them—hulking black creatures with bristling, spiny backs, long necks, and glowing, blood-red eyes that shone in the night. I’d only gotten a good look at the monsters once, the night we took Gabe to the gate far in the Frost.
    The night I’d seen one kill Cole Carver with one bite.
    Why were they here now? What did they want?
    My skin prickled all over as something scraped against the side of the house and dragged around it like the screech of a thousand fingernails. It went along the side and toward the door. The point of entry. The weak spot.
    The room was too hot, too dark, too flickering, and lit only by firelight. My dress squeezed me, my throat hurt from holding my breath. My eyes were straining, and my ears were full of the sound of my own heartbeat.
    The Watcher Ward that hung outside the front door clattered.
    Would the monsters see the painted snow blossom symbol on the door, or would they bust right through?
    I lifted the gun and braced myself. A bullet wasn’t going to do anything, but I’d die before I’d run and hide and let the monsters come after my siblings without a fight. Maybe if they got me they’d think I was the only one, and they’d go away without searching further.
    The hinges on the door squealed as something pressed against it. My pulse pounded. My mind was screaming at me. All the air left my lungs in one giant, terrified exhale. Sweat slipped into my eyes, and my hands were shaking so hard I could barely hold the gun. Pleasedon’tpleasedon’tpleasedon’t was the only thing in my head.
    I stared at the door, held my breath, and tried my best not to whimper.
    And then…
    Silence.
    My hands sagged with the weight of the pistol, but I stayed standing, waiting for what felt like eons while the fire crackled and the wind howled against the cracks in the wall. Nothing outside stirred. An eternity ebbed and flowed in the absolute quietude as I waited.
    Had they gone?
    Or was this a cruel trick?
    “Lia?” Ivy’s voice trickled through the bedroom door. “What’s happening?”
    But I couldn’t answer her. My eyes were glued to the door, the knob.
    It was turning .
    I lifted the gun again and squinted down the barrel. My heart was in my mouth. My blood was on fire. My legs trembled.
    “Lia?”
    The voice that called my named was muffled, but I still recognized it.
    Adam Brewer .
     
     

SIX
     
     
    ADAM STRODE INTO the room as soon as I unlatched the door, a swirl of snowflakes following him. Outside, the flakes drifted down gently in the darkness. A quiet snowfall, not a storm.
    Adam’s cloak swept the floor as he turned to trap me with his gaze, and his eyes burned with quiet intensity. He took in the sight of me, the gun in my hand, the absence of my siblings. He went back to the door and looked out, and a blast of icy wind fanned my cheeks and brought me back to a semblance of sanity.
    “You’re shaking,” he observed quietly. “Not to mention the fact you’re holding a weapon. Were you not expecting me?”
    “Watchers,” I managed, my voice rusty with relief. Seeing him standing there whole and uneaten when he’d been outside just moments ago squeezed the last bit of air from my lungs. The memory of blood on the snow flashed through my head again, and I blinked to banish it. I shut the door and leaned against it. “Didn’t you see them?”
    “There were tracks around the house, but the yard was empty.” He turned to face me again, one hand braced against the door and one hand reaching for me. “You put out the lantern and I saw the light.” He paused. “Are you all right?”
    “Yes. No.” The gun was too heavy in my hand now. I went to the mantle and put it back. The movements, precise and ordinary, restored my sanity and helped my hands to stop shaking. “I’m fine. It’s just…they were slamming against the door. I can’t imagine what might have—” I stopped. The children’s clothing. It was in my