War of Hearts(47)

Last month Ashforth had taken so much blood from Thea, she’d been so weak she couldn’t keep her eyes open. One guard, a human, had tried to take advantage of that. He climbed into her bed at night. She didn’t know where she found the strength to fight him off, but in her fear and rage, she’d punched a hole through his chest.

He was the first human she’d ever killed.

Ashforth had cleaned up the mess like it was no big deal. He’d given her a fatherly smile and praised her strength. It had horrified Amanda and Devon and he’d promised nothing like that would ever happen again.

But they’d allowed it to happen by letting Ashforth keep her here. A prisoner. A science experiment.

A torture victim.

For four fucking years.

She turned her head away from Devon, unable to bear looking at him.

The night before, Thea had escaped. Again. It took a lot of strength, most of which was zapped by the room, but she was determined to get the hell out of there. Unfortunately, the last two times she’d tried she hadn’t even gotten out of the house before someone shot her in the back with a dart. It contained that black substance Ashforth used to weaken her whenever she was out of the room.

“Dad’s furious, Thea.” She could hear Devon pulling a seat over to the bed.

Yeah, she kind of guessed that when he hit her.

She’d escaped the house the previous night. But a vampire tackled her on the tennis court and injected her. The last thing she remembered before she blacked out was Ashforth’s enraged expression as he punched her in the gut.

“I’m worried about you. I’ve never seen him so angry.”

She scoffed and turned to look at her adoptive brother’s handsome face. “If you were really worried about me, you would have gotten me out of here a long time ago.”

Remorse darkened his expression. “He has too many men. He’s too powerful.”

Yes, Jasper Ashforth had used his money to surround himself with supernatural guards at his island estate. He’d bought the small island on the Lawrence River, just off Lake Ontario, a few years ago. It was far enough from the other islands that dotted the river to afford complete privacy. He’d converted the house for his purposes and as far as Thea knew, he invited no one but family onto the island. For example, none of his wealthy business acquaintances or friends knew he’d kept his ward in the basement of his island house for the last four years.

“I saved you,” she whispered.

Devon nodded, eyes bright. “I know. You don’t know how much I wish I could return the favor. But I’m not strong enough to fight him. I’m sorry.”

Thea’s mind flew back to those first days after the plane crash. After what she’d experienced, the terrifying plummet out of the sky, the screams of terror she could still hear in her head, the horror in her parents’ eyes when they looked at her for the last time …

And the crash itself. She remembered the noise, pain, and burning all over her body. She could remember the awful smells, but she couldn’t remember getting out of the wreckage. One minute they’d crashed, there was darkness, and the next Thea was on the ground outside the wrecked plane.

Her therapist said it was a saving grace, and Thea agreed. There were some images a person didn’t need in her head.

The Ashforths had been worried she wasn’t talking and so they’d taken her to the therapist, but she refused to speak at first there too. It wasn’t until a week later when Devon, only a year older, found her sitting alone in the gardens. He sat down and talked to her about this video game he was playing. Thea had listened to him chatter away, and it was the first time she’d felt a modicum of normality. When he’d eventually asked her if she wanted an ice cream, she’d opened her mouth and said yes.

Devon had taken her hand and led her into the house.

The years between twelve and fifteen hadn’t been easy. But she believed she was protected. Ashforth kept the media frenzy at bay. Everyone wanted to know about the miracle child who’d survived a plane crash. But she also later discovered the government had come knocking, wanting to look at the little girl who walked away from a plane crash almost unscathed, and Ashforth used every ounce of his influence and connections to keep them away. There were overzealous religious people who wanted to get near her because they believed God had touched her.

He kept them all away.

And she’d been grateful.

Thea had been secretly terrified of anyone finding out she was different. Her parents had been so careful to protect her secret.

Kids at her new private school were distant at first, but Devon was popular there and he forged a path for her. She made friends; she did well at school, and every week she visited a therapist to make sure she was dealing with the trauma of losing her parents the way she had. Except for being careful not to show her true strength, her healing abilities, or any of the weird things she could do that her parents had taught her to control and hide, Thea was as happy as a girl who’d lost her parents could be.

There had been moments of near misses with the Ashforths. Cuts that healed immediately. A broken leg on a skiing trip that miraculously was no longer broken by the time they got her back up the hill.

Still, she thought she’d gotten away with it.

Two years later, on her fourteenth birthday, Ashforth tried to get her on a private plane for the first time for a family holiday to Italy. Thea had lost control in front of the family who sat in the limo waiting for her to get out onto the tarmac. During the struggle, she remembered the air crackling and the Ashforths staring at her in horror, asking her what was wrong with her eyes, and then …