Page 72 of The Troll’s Summer Flame

“The interrogation room is mainly used for storing the holiday decorations that go up around the department. Ardy had me the results by the end of the day. There are these things... CMs.”

“Centimeters?”

“Centimorgans. Which makes no sense. I’ve never measured anything in a morgan. Have you?”

“No, honey.”

“My centimorgans and the blood centimorgans are a fifty-three percent match. That’s a sibling or a parent. It’s a male’s blood. That means it’s a father or a brother. My father is gravel somewhere. It’s one of my brothers. One of my brothers is here. In town. He almost made it to me, Andrea—and that demon scared him off.”

“It’s okay! It’s okay, we’ll find him. We’ll go look tonight. We can... Can’t Alban scry him based on the blood?” I’m proud of myself for using new terms—and knowing what the heck they mean.

“Now that we know it’s not the succubus’ blood, yes. He’s going over there now.”

“But you’re coming here?”

“I wanted to be with you.” Gordon’s voice shrinks. “I have feelings. I don’t like them.”

“I bet. Are you... What feelings? You can tell me if you want,” I encourage.

“I can’t tell what they are,” he grinds out. “Because I don’t know what my brothers have become, or which brother it is. Do you know how dangerous this could be?”

“Dangerous?”

“My brothers... Who knows who they are now?”

“Well, he came here, whoever it was. That means he wants to see you, right? That’s a good thing.” I hope.

“He could want to see me to kill me for dishonoring trolls by living among humans and actively helping to save them. Or he could want to move in with me.”

“Well, he could! For a while. I don’t have to live there, Gordon, not now while you and your brother are getting—”

“My life was not good. After years of wandering, and then years of semi-isolation in this place, it was peaceful. It wasn’t good until you. I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want to lose the good things,” he rasps, and his breathing through the phone sounds broken and wet.

I think he’s crying.

“Baby, you’re not going to lose me! Oh, my gosh. My family could make some guys run a mile.”

“I won’t run.”

“Me, either.”

“If he’s evil... If he’s like my mother...”

“Then he’ll have to leave Pine Ridge, won’t he?”

A long, long silence. “If he’s like my mother, he’ll want to kill humans. He won’t leave Pine Ridge. He’ll be buried here.”

Chapter Sixteen: Interlude

I am not supposed to do this.

Curl up in Andrea’s bed, head on her lap, Chopin purring and pawing me, meowing and circling me endlessly as I cry.

I don’t want to kill my brother. I have never killed anyone. If I do, I’ll lose my ability to walk in the sun. To be Andrea’s good man. A husband. A father.

But if he’s wicked, and evil, and killing humans—what choice do I have? I can’t ask anyone else to do this and dirty their souls. It can change a monster into the thing that humans have a right to fear. But if he’s evil, and I kill evil, doesn’t that make me good? Still worthy?

I don’t know, and that makes me cry, too.