A Hunger Like No Other (Immortals After Dark #2)(76)

“Oh, my God. What did he do?”

“He became void of feeling, more a walking corpse than Demestriu even. You would doom me to that.”

“But if you want to build a life with me, mine involves my family. You said you’d take me there. Why not now? Just get it over with.”

“I have to do something first.”

“You’re going to get revenge, aren’t you?”

“Aye.”

“It’s that important to you?”

“I canna be right without it.”

“What Demestriu did to you must’ve been awful.”

A muscle ticked in his cheek. “I will no’ tell you, so doona play to find out.”

“You always want me to tell you my secrets, but you won’t share one that affects both of us.”

“I will never share this.”

Giving him her side, she hugged her legs tighter to her chest. “You want your revenge more than you want me.”

“I will no’ be what you need until I set this right.”

“People who go after Demestriu don’t come back.”

“I did,” he said smugly, with all his considerable arrogance.

Could he be lucky twice? He couldn’t not come back. “So, do you plan to leave me here when you go mete out your retribution?”

“Aye, I would trust your safety only to my brother Garreth.”

“Leaving the little lady back at the keep?” She laughed, but it was a bitter sound. “Sometimes I’m stunned by what a time capsule you are.” He frowned, obviously not understanding her. “Even if I could be convinced to kick my heels up here, this plan has a flaw. The coven is busy with their own difficulties, but there’s only so much time before they will come for me. Or worse.”

“What do you mean, or worse?”

“They’ll find a way to hurt you. Find a weakness and exploit it like a scourge. They just won’t stop. Isn’t there a group of Lykae living in the next parish over? My aunt, the one I love best in the world, could attack them with a viciousness that would stagger you.”

He ground his teeth. “You know what bothers me most about what you said? I should be the one you love best in the world. Me.”

She gasped at the words and the surprise feeling that flashed through her all the way to her toes.

“And of the other, if anyone in my clan is weak enough to be captured or killed by wee fey…women, then they needed to be culled from the pack anyway.”

That statement brought her crash-landing back into the conversation. “They are small and fey looking. They also kill vampires regularly. My aunt Kaderin has destroyed more than four hundred of them.”

His lips curled. “An auntie tells you tales.”

“There’s proof.”

“Did they sign a paper right before she worked their heads off?”

She sighed, and when she didn’t answer, he leaned forward and squeezed her foot. “When Kaderin kills, she snaps out a fang—to be strung with the others. The line runs the length of her room.”

“All you’re doing is endearing her to me. Remember, I’ll see every one of them dead.”

“How can you say that when I am one? Or part of one. Whatever you want to call it! One of them is my father.” He opened his mouth to speak, but she said, “You can’t spare him only. Because I don’t know who he was…or is. That’s why I was in Paris searching for information.”

“What of your mother?”

“I know more about what she was doing a thousand years ago than I do about when she was pregnant with me. We do know that she lived in Paris for some time with my father. Just the fact that I insisted on traveling alone should tell you how important it was to me.”

“Then I will help you. When I return and after you see your family, we will solve this.”

He was so assured it would be done. So says the king.

“What was your mother’s name? I know the names of about twenty or so Valkyrie. Even know some legends told around a fire. Was she another bloodthirsty witch like Furie? Does she have a trailing name like Myst the Coveted or Daniela the Ice Maiden? The beheader, perhaps? The castrator?”

She sighed, weary of this. “Her name was Helen. Just Helen.”

“I never heard of her.” He grew quiet, then said, “And your last name? Troy? At least your aunts have a sense of humor.”

Her gaze flickered over his face.

“Oh, no. No’ going to believe that one. Helen of Troy was human at best. Most likely a myth or a character in a play.”

She shook her head. “Nope. She was Helen of Troy by way of the country of Lydia. She’s no more a myth than my aunt Atalanta in New Zealand or my aunt Mina, of Dracula legend, in Seattle. They came first. The warped stories come after.”

“But…Helen? At least that explains your looks,” he muttered, clearly shocked, then frowned. “Why in the hell would she stoop to a vampire?”

She flinched. “Listen to your disgust. Stoop to my father, you mean.” She grasped her forehead with her fingers. “What if he is Demestriu? Have you ever thought about that?”

“Demestriu? I know that is no’ the case. I will help you find your father—you will have your questions answered. I vow it. But you are no’ his.”