Read Online Thorns by Kate Avery Ellison - Free Book Online Page B

straining for the scrape of claws against the walls again even in my dreams. True rest was impossible. The air was too dark, too close, too stifling. The night was too silent. An ache of unspoken emotion squeezed me like a band of rope tied too tight—half excitement, half terror.
    My chest rose and fell with uneven breaths as I twisted beneath the sheets. The presence of the Watchers brought back memories of my parents’ deaths, and the fugitives in my barn made me think of Gabe.
    Gabe …
    My chest squeezed with sudden pain as I pictured his face.
    I rolled over on my side and shut my eyes. Fatigue clung to my eyelids like grit, but my thoughts squirmed and scrabbled in my head, refusing to let me rest.
    A heavy silence blanketed the house. Adam slept below by the fire, and Jonn slept in my parents’ old bed. It might have been mine and Ivy’s after my parents died, since there were two of us and only one of him, but I liked sleeping upstairs in the loft. I usually felt as secure as a bird tucked in a nest high above the forest floor, but tonight any illusions of safety eluded me. We were more like rabbits in a cage here in this farmhouse, surrounded by the snow and wind and forest and Watchers pawing at the sides. The Frost had us all by the throat, its icy fingers choking tighter and tighter. Now the Farthers were squeezing, too. Someday, maybe one of them would succeed in killing us all.
    These morbid thoughts kept me company until the bluish glow of dawn began to leak through the curtains. I threw off the quilt and dressed quickly, pulling on my thick undergarments and then my ragged woolen dress. As I dug into the top drawer of my bureau, my fingers brushed the Thorns brooch. A shiver of icy anticipation passed over me. I pushed it back behind a pile of socks and shut the drawer.
    Downstairs, the floorboards creaked, and the faintest squeak of a shoe met my ears. I hurried to the stairs and tiptoed down them, careful to not wake my sister. But when I reached the bottom, the room was empty. A brown leather cuff etched with a snow blossom lay on my chair.
    I grabbed the cuff and ran to the door. I wrenched it open. Pale light poured over me.
    He was already halfway across the yard, heading for the barn. His cloak fluttered in the wind, and his footprints scarred the freshly fallen whiteness.
    “Adam!”
    He heard me and turned.
    I shoved my feet into my boots and went out into the yard without my cloak. The snow brushing my face like wet feathers had already half-filled the Watcher tracks that circled the house, and the lantern still burned at the edge of the woods, the light casting a halo amid the snowfall and the gloom of daybreak.
    I ran. When I reached him, I held up the cuff. “You forgot this.” I was breathless.
    He watched my face carefully. “It’s for you.”
    “Oh.” I dropped my eyes to the leather bracelet, turning it over and over in my hands. It was smaller than his, and daintier. I was startled by the gift, and touched. I didn’t know what to think or say. “It’s beautiful. Thank you.”
    And it was. Delicate tooling lined the edges, and the snow blossom adorning the middle was the pale blue of a morning sky. I traced the painted petals with one finger and felt Adam’s gaze lingering on my face.
    “There’s a reason beyond vanity for wearing it,” he said, faintly amused. “I’ve discovered drawings work better than the real thing at warding Watchers away.”
    “I should embroider one on the back of my cloak, then,” I muttered.
    Adam looked thoughtful. “Not a bad idea. Wear the cuff, though. You’ll be safer when you venture out in the darkness. I make sure my own are protected.”
    “Venture out in the…darkness?” Was he expecting me to have his boldness, to go out alone in the night?
    “I was going to leave you a note in the barn,” he said. “I must go, but we need to speak further about the Thorns. Think of this as your first assignment. A test.”
    My stomach