Every Last Breath. Jennifer L. Armentrout

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Every Last Breath - Jennifer L. Armentrout


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strode up to Cayman, placing his hand on the other demon’s shoulder. “I want you to keep an eye out, okay?”

      The list of things that Cayman would be keeping an eye out for was astronomical.

      “Word.” Cayman disappeared. Poof. Gone.

      Shaking my head, I refocused on Stacey. Tears filled her eyes as she peered up at me through damp lashes. “Sam’s... He’s dead, isn’t he?”

      I placed the pillow on the couch beside her and knelt down. A burning knot of emotion formed in the back of my throat. “Yeah. He is.”

      She squeezed her eyes shut as a tremor rolled through her. “I remember you all talking about the...the Lilin and what it does to people. If Sam’s dead, then his soul...”

      His soul was in Hell. I knew that. Stacey already knew that. Everyone in this room knew that, and there could be nothing more horrific than being trapped in Hell. He didn’t deserve all the horrifying things that happened to souls there.

      Wrapping my hands around Stacey’s, I squeezed them tight. “I promise we will get Sam’s soul out of Hell. I promise.”

      “YOU SHOULDN’T HAVE made that promise,” Zayne said quietly the moment Stacey hit the girls’ bathroom at the bakery several blocks from her house. I’d tried to go with her, but she stated quite firmly that she needed a few moments alone.

      I sat in the booth closest to the window, watching the people rushing outside, their auras a dizzying wash of colors. It was so weird to see the auras again. A part of me had gotten used to not seeing them while Bambi had been on me, and I’d forgotten how distracting they could be. “Why not?”

      Zayne slid in across from me. Concern pinched his features. “How are you going to get Sam’s soul out of Hell, Layla? Roth may be the Crown Prince, but I seriously doubt that is something that he can ask for, even if he was on good terms with them. Hell isn’t just going to hand Sam’s soul right over.”

      “I hadn’t gotten that far in my plan.” Actually, I’d been hoping that it was something that Roth could help us out with. After all, being the Crown Prince meant he could just go around letting Thumper fry and eat Alphas. “But it’s something we have to do. Zayne, he’s my best friend.” My voice cracked, and I felt my tenuous control over my emotions start to slip. “Even if he wasn’t, I couldn’t leave him there. He didn’t deserve this. God, Zayne, Sam did not deserve this.”

      “I know.” Zayne dipped his chin, his gaze never leaving mine. “I’m not suggesting that we forget about him.”

      “We have to do something,” I reiterated, drawing in a deep breath as I leaned back against the booth, resting my hands on the smooth table. I glanced back toward where Stacey had disappeared. She’d asked for time, but it was so hard to give it to her. Considering everything that had happened, I was surprised that we could sit here and talk normally. “And then we need to figure out what to do about the Lilin, and then we—”

      “Hey, slow down for a second.” Zayne reached across the table, folding his hand over mine. I studied him as my heart turned over heavily. Anytime I looked at him now, I saw the smudges under his eyes, and I saw the dulled aura around him. I couldn’t un-see that. “I know a lot of crazy stuff just went down, but you’ve been through a lot. We need to talk about it.”

      I really did not want to talk about any of that, because there was a good chance I couldn’t handle it.

      Zayne had other ideas. “Do you know how hard it is for me to sit on the other side of this booth and not reach across and pull you against me? Just to make sure you really are alive?” he asked, and my breath caught at the raw honesty in his words. “What happened wasn’t your fault. You need to know that. My clan—our clan—and my father never should have done what they did.”

      I dropped my gaze to his hand, the one that held mine and had held mine for so many years. I closed my eyes and immediately saw Zayne lying on the floor of my bedroom, pale and still. I remembered the way Abbot, the Warden that had raised me, had looked at me when he found his son, stared at me like I was a monster he had helped create. Pressure clamped down on my chest as I recalled the panicked flight through the compound, my desperate attempt to escape and the failure.

      Failure that had ended with me being caged and drugged, left alone in the dark with no hope of ever seeing the daylight again. I could still smell the musty scent that had lingered in the basement of the compound, feel the chains that had bound me when I’d been moved to the secret warehouse.

      “Layla?”

      A shudder rolled through me as I reminded myself I wasn’t in that cage anymore. I opened my eyes and forced those dark thoughts out of my head.

      “I appreciate you saying that. You’re right. What they did to me was wrong. I get that they thought I was the one causing trouble around the compound—heck, even I thought I was a danger to everyone, but they went too far.”

      My words kind of surprised me. I’d always defended Abbot, but I couldn’t make excuses for his actions or those of the majority of my clan. All the soul-searching I’d done after waking up from the blow, the wound delivered to me in front of Abbot, had changed who I was at the very core. There was no doubt about that. “They acted as the jury with some really crappy circumstantial evidence, and then they became the judge and the executioner. I could’ve died. I would’ve died if it hadn’t been for Dez—and by the way, how much trouble are he and Nicolai in?”

      Dez and Nicolai had risked everything by alerting Roth to what was happening. If they hadn’t done that, I wouldn’t have been sitting here right now.

      Zayne’s lashes lowered as his expression contorted. “At first, there were talks of casting them out,” he said, and I sucked in a breath. Casting them out meant they’d be disowned from the clan, which was horrible enough for a single male, but Dez had a mate and two little babies. “But once we realized that it was Petr wreaking havoc around the house, Abbot began to see the light. Nicolai and Dez are safe.”

      With everything that had happened, I’d forgotten that Zayne had told me they’d discovered Petr’s wraith, caught on camera. Relief coursed through me. I’d... I’d killed the young Warden in self-defense when he attacked me, carrying out his father’s orders. Elijah. Who’d also turned out to be my real father, so that meant Petr, who’d been the worst kind of boy there was, was my half brother. That still sickened me. Since I’d sucked out Petr’s soul, he’d become a wraith.

      “You could’ve died, too. I could’ve taken your whole soul,” I continued, keeping my voice low. That was the gift my mother, Lilith, had left me with—the wonderful ability to suck out souls with a single kiss. Anyone who had one was in danger if they got anywhere near my mouth, which up until recently had put a real damper on the whole dating business.

      But then Roth had shown up, and as a demon, he was in the no-soul category. At first, I’d loathed his very existence, and looking back, it had a lot to do with how his words and actions made me question everything the Wardens had taught me. By nature, demons weren’t something you’d invite in for dinner, but not all of them were the wretched creatures I’d been conditioned to abhor to a near-fanatical degree. They had their purpose, too. Every second I’d spent with Roth, I’d fallen a little harder for him, and I’d shared so much with him before he’d sacrificed himself to save Zayne from the fiery pits of Hell. I’d thought I’d lost him then, but he’d returned—only things had been different between us when he had. Roth had distanced himself, to protect me.

      To shield me from Abbot.

      Then there was everything that had happened with Zayne. I’d been raised with him, spent years idolizing and loving him from afar. For the longest time, he’d been my everything, but he’d been a Warden and I’d only been half Warden—and worse, half demon. Between his soul and my genetic background, he’d been off-limits. A friendship with


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