War of Hearts(111)

“You’re doing this for yourself.” Devon looked to Thea, defeated. “Whoever this is, it’s not the man I remember as my dad.” He stepped back, giving her space. “End it now.”

She was a blur of speed and light across the room toward Ashforth, channeling the little girl terrified of this man, so she could give her the closure she needed. Thea was so focused, so sure it would be an easy battle, she never saw it coming.

One minute she was on Ashforth, her hands on his neck, about to snap it—make it clean, make it quick, more than he deserved—when the fire blazed through her ribs just below her heart.

The breath left her, and she felt the energy around her flicker as her legs gave way with the agony. Glancing down, she saw the iron dagger stuck between her ribs.

Even as the pain made her want to die, Thea felt relief. He’d missed her heart. She glared up at him from her knees as he shrugged his suit jacket back into place like she hadn’t just tried to kill him.

“Well, this is unfortunate.” Ashforth shook his head.

Thea yanked out the blade, gasping. “You missed. You fucking maniac.”

“Yes, but you’ll be weak enough for now until I can deal with you.”

“Wrong.” Devon stepped up behind his dad, the muzzle of the silencer against his temple. “That’s not how this ends.”

No! Thea shook her head. No, she couldn’t let Devon do this. And not because it would deny her right for revenge. She didn’t need revenge. She just needed this to be over and Ashforth would never let her go. There was no other way. He had to die.

But Devon would not live with his father’s blood on his hands.

Pushing through the weakness caused by the iron blade, Thea shot up, pushed Devon out of the way, her super strength sending him flying across the room, and she turned on Ashforth.

Wary, obviously out of weapons, he took a step back, hands in the air. “You can’t do it. You won’t let Devon do it, so how do you expect to?”

“I won’t let him live with your death on his conscience.” Thea shook her head. “He will be better than you, and he can’t do that with that kind of legacy.”

Melancholy filled Ashforth’s eyes. “Thea—”

Three moves.

That’s all it took.

A step toward him. A punch through flesh, muscle, and bone. And he gaped in shock, like he hadn’t expected it. Thea fisted his heart, not surprised to find it small. “You never had any use for it anyway,” she whispered.

Then the third and final move.

She tore Ashforth’s useless heart from his body.

The light dimmed from his eyes and he dropped with a juddering thud. Thea let go of the warm, bloody muscle and wiped her hand against her jeans a little desperately. She shuddered, feeling cold.

“You did it.”

Turning, Thea watched as Devon limped toward her.

“I’m sorry.” She gestured to his leg. She hadn’t meant to push him so hard.

He waved off her apology, his eyes on his father. “I heard what you said.” His voice was soft, his eyes glazed over with shock. “Thank you.”

“Devon, we need to get out of here. If we’re found—”

“Don’t worry.” He shook his head. “I set this place to blow in ten minutes.”

Thea’s eyes rounded. “What?”

He didn’t look at her but fell to the ground beside his father’s body. His shoulders shook. “I wanted it all gone. All evidence of what he’s done. The vamps who helped him … they’ll die too.”

“But the castle …” Thea gestured to the hall. Maybe it shouldn’t be her first thought, but this was a medieval castle. It seemed like sacrilege to destroy hundreds of years of history because some asshole took up residence in it.

“Fuck the castle. Fuck Scotland.” Devon sniffled. “I’ll meet you outside. Just give me a minute to say goodbye.”

Thea wasn’t particularly happy about leaving bombs to detonate, killing vampires and destroying a piece of important Scottish heritage. But she also didn’t know how to defuse a bomb and she only had ten minutes to get whoever was left in the castle out.

Thea looked down at Ashforth’s body. There was no time to process his death. It would have to wait. Hurrying from the hall, she searched the castle. The vamps couldn’t leave but any werewolves could.

Sadly, the ones she found, Devon had already killed. Including the guard whose neck she’d broken. Devon had returned to the pantry to put a bullet in him before he searched out his father.

Rushing out of the entrance, down the uneven concrete steps, Thea felt the heat from the large boat ablaze down at the dock. She dashed across the courtyard and took the steps down onto the dock, wary of how close the flames were getting to the wooden structure. She found a man and a woman, but they were already gone. Bodies floated in the loch beyond the boat. Thea damned Devon to hell. Why did he have to kill everyone? Wasn’t Ashforth enough?

A shout carried across the water and Thea turned from the blazing boat to shore.

“Thea!”

“Conall,” she breathed, hurrying toward the opposite end of the dock. People gathered on the shore.

The Pack.

And Conall was getting into a speedboat with James and Callie.

Relief flooded her. She waved and Callie waved back. She could feel Conall’s intensity from here.