Read Online When Temptation Burns: A Shadow Keepers Novel (Shadow Keepers 6) by J.K. Beck - Free Book Online Page B

himself to the ground, fighting the urge to lunge and feed. “No,” he finally said, the word coming out half gasp, half growl. “No, he wasn’t human at all.”

“You should eat more,” Andrew Tarrent said, setting a metal tin of Danish butter cookies down in front of his daughter. “That was probably my biggest failing as a parent—not making sure you ate better. You get all involved and then you forget to eat and then you get too thin.”
    Andy didn’t want a cookie, but she took one anyway, just to please her father. She’d been named after him, and in a way that gave them a special bond. Not that they’d needed a name to bond them; they’d been bonded in tragedy when Andy was only eleven years old. That was the year her mother had been mugged and beaten and stabbed. She’d fought hard for days—Andy could still remember the astringent smell of her hospital room—but the blade’s jagged edge had done too much damage. Andy’s mother had pulled her close and told her that she loved her, would always love her. Then she’d pressed something into Andy’s hand—the gold chain with the beautiful cross. “Wear it,” her mother said. “Wear it and both God and I will be watching over you.”
    She’d put the necklace on then and there, liking the way it made her feel closer to her mom, yet hating what it meant. Because even at eleven, Andy understood what was coming. One of her dad’s parishioners took her into the hallway and sat beside her patting her hand, tellingher over and over how the whole congregation was praying for Gretchen Tarrent to rise above this horrible evil that had been done to her, and if she didn’t pull through it was a sign that God wanted her home with him. Andy had reached up and rubbed the cross between her thumb and forefinger as if it were a wishing rock from a dime store. She’d nodded, silent, and pretended the parishioner’s words had made the hurt better. Of course, they hadn’t. The cross, though … That she’d clung to, fiercely wishing for something she knew wasn’t going to come true.
    She’d sat there, listening to her companion drone on, until her father emerged hours later, his face pale, his eyes red. He said nothing, just took Andy into his arms, and she’d cried and cried, trying to find comfort in the normal, familiar smell of mint and tobacco that permeated her father’s shirt.
    The memory was still with her, as strong as ever. But while she’d always miss her mother, the pain had faded. The necklace had become her talisman, but whether she was looking to her mom or to God, she could never truly say.
    “You had no failings as a father,” she said after she swallowed the bite of cookie.
    “You’re very kind.”
    “But if you did …” She trailed off mischievously.
    “Ah, and here it comes. The other shoe dropping.”
    “If you did, it wouldn’t be that you didn’t encourage me to eat, it would be that you encouraged me to eat cookies.” She lifted the buttery flower, one petal now gone. “Not one of the basic food groups, Dad.”
    He
tsked
. “I kept meaning to take a nutrition class when I was in school, but they didn’t offer one at theseminary. But I’m serious, sweetheart. I worry about you.”
    She leaned back against the couch and then tucked her feet under her. Her coffee was in arm’s reach on the side table, and now she grabbed it, cupping the mug in her hands to warm her up. In the summer her father always kept the thermostat on sixty-eight. She’d carried a blanket around throughout her childhood, not for security but for basic warmth. “So what are you worrying about today? And don’t tell me this,” she added, nodding at the cookies. “If you weren’t worried about me eating pizza for breakfast at age twelve, I don’t believe it’s keeping you up at nights now that I’m twenty-six.”
    For a moment he didn’t answer, just sat in his own chair and sipped his coffee. Then he put his cup down on the crocheted