Most estranged fathers would send an email. Mine sends a zombie. The infamous dagger known as the Thief of Souls is now mine. Its seductive power comes with a catch-the blade is determined to control me, and I'm losing the battle. Ash wants to free me from its clutches. He's an ice-cold fae assassin who bizarrely seems to care for me, but can I trust his motives? A little voice inside me is screaming yes, but I can't even trust my own thoughts anymore. So of course dear old Dad picks this moment to crawl out of whatever hole he's been hiding in for the last five years. He's a dangerous necromancer, and he wants the dagger, but maybe I can use him. Because he's the key to what I want most in all the world-if I can bring myself to pay the price.