War of Hearts(53)

Conall thought that made sense. He nodded. “He needs to achieve what he set out to achieve, otherwise her death was for nothing.”

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry I believed you killed Amanda.”

He saw the harsh grief mar her face before she hid it beneath her rage. “The first hunter he sent after me was a mercenary for hire, armed with a dart gun and Ashforth’s drug. He said he didn’t know why Ashforth wanted me back alive, that if I had killed his wife, he’d take his revenge on the spot. And that’s when I knew he probably told Devon that I murdered Amanda. I wanted to kill Ashforth for that. Everything he’d done to me … and somehow,” she said, her jaw tensing as she blinked, fighting back tears, “somehow that was the worst.”

His throat thickened, watching her battle her emotions and win. There was a part of him relieved that she won. Conall wasn’t sure how he’d cope with Thea crying.

“Thea, what is the weapon he used against you?” He sounded gruff, impatient. However, his frustration wasn’t just with her. He was frustrated with himself for believing Ashforth’s lies. And he wanted Thea to trust him.

Wrong.

He needed her to trust him.

“I can’t tell you.” Her tone brooked no argument.

A fury the situation hardly warranted rushed like a burning heat through his blood and he felt his gums and fingertips tingle with the shift. Jesus fuck. He took a calming, slow exhalation. Thea’s eyes narrowed on him.

“Are you okay?”

No, he was far from okay. He was disappointed and angered beyond measure by her lack of trust in him and yet how could he blame the lass? Hadn’t he spent the last few days holding her captive, to return her to a man who had brutalized her?

Still, she knew his weakness, and he was giving her his trust by believing her over Ashforth. “You know I’m weakened by silver. What’s the difference?”

Thea crossed her arms under her chest, drawing his attention. The heat within him changed in an instant before he fought it and dragged his gaze back to her face. If she noticed his wandering eyes, she didn’t acknowledge it. “Every supernatural on the planet knows silver is poison to a werewolf, the same way every supernatural knows a wooden stake to the heart will turn a vampire to dust. But no one knows my weakness except Ashforth, and that’s as big as I want to make that circle of death.”

Conall’s frustration mounted. “If you tell me,” he bit out sharply, “maybe I can help you find out what you are, why you have the abilities you have.”

“I’m not interested in knowing.”

He raised an eyebrow at her mulish expression. “Ashforth knows, Thea. If we know what he knows, we’ll have a better chance of understanding what is driving him.”

“Power. I told you that. Absolute power.” She sneered. “Do you know before he found out about me, he was gearing up to run for president? Of the United States. President. So he could be immortalized forever in world history. But then I came along.” She took a step toward him, her intoxicating mix of fresh, floral, heady, sweet scent thickening in the air between them. “Why be immortalized in history when you can be immortal? He thinks I’m a true immortal. Whatever that means.”

Ashforth’s voice filled Conall’s mind. “Well, they’re not true immortals. They can still be killed.” “He thinks you’re indestructible.”

She slumped down on the twin bed next to her. She was the perfect image of youthful weariness, like a thousand-year-old vampire that had stopped aging at twenty. “The vampire who punched me in the chest …”

Conall sat on the other bed. “Aye?”

“My heart wouldn’t budge, Conall.”

His heart raced a little harder at the sound of his name on her tongue. He forced himself to concentrate on the words that had come before it.

“He couldn’t pull it out of my chest, and he couldn’t crush it.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I don’t want to be immortal. I don’t want to live forever.”

Her pain affected him more than he’d like so he covered it with his usual brusqueness. “The only way to find out one way or the other is to discover what you are.”

“And you have no inkling?” She cocked her head in thought. “You’ve never heard about someone like me?”

“No. The only beings that come remotely close are myths and legends. Some supes think of them as our origin stories, a religion. But I’ve never believed in them. I believe in facts and evolution.”

“Then how do you explain me?”

“Evolution.”

She cracked a smile and his eyes lingered on her mouth. “Like X-Men?”

Conall flashed her a wolfish grin. “Aye, why not?”

Thea laughed and shook her head. “If only it were that interesting. I’ve read about those origin stories too. They sound like fairy tales.”

“Aye, well, some people need to believe in fairy tales but it’s a waste of time.”

“Let them have them, Conall,” she whispered sadly. “If it helps them deal with how shitty the real world is, let people have their fairy tales.”

“I’m happy to.” He nodded. “But there are people like Ashforth whose beliefs become a justification for evil. That’s where I draw the line.”