The heavy oak front doors groaned open, and the cold wind swept inside, carrying the smell of wet pavement.

I looked at the twins, who were finally warm and fast asleep under the glow of the fire.

My hands were shaking, but the fear was gone, replaced by a cold, hard certainty.

I was no longer just a girl pouring coffee in South Boston.

I belonged to the bloodline now, and I would do whatever it took to protect it.