War of Hearts(76)

Vik abruptly turned away, striding toward the bookshelves. He studied them, running his eyes up and down the books. “And you can heal. Instantly?”

“Yes.”

He moved along the shelves as Thea and Conall shared a questioning look. Vik glanced over his shoulder at Thea. “Can you move from one space to another by merely thinking about it?”

She frowned but something flickered in the back of her mind.

The plane crash.

How she’d been in darkness, in pain, smelling the most horrific smells, and then the next, outside the plane.

“I … not that I know of.” She avoided Conall’s eyes, wondering if he was thinking about the plane crash too.

“And iron. Pure iron. Do you know if it can hurt you?” His gaze flicked to the iron blade on his display unit before turning back to Thea.

She felt Conall tense at the same time she did. They hadn’t mentioned the iron yet. “Yes,” she whispered, butterflies erupting to life as Vik nodded.

There was a light of disbelief and excitement in his eyes as he stared at her.

“Well?” Conall snapped.

Vik reached up and grasped a small volume from his shelves. He turned around and moved back toward them before dropping the book on the desk with a light thwomp. “You’re right. Thea is immortal.”

Something withered inside her at his declaration. She looked down at the book. “As in …”

“Never age, never die. A true immortal.”

“That’s what Ashforth called her.” Conall scowled. “And he knows about the iron.”

“Then he knows what she is.”

“Which is?”

Vik gestured to the book, and they both edged closer.

Embossed in gold across the leather was the word FAERIE.

Thea’s eyes flew to Vik’s in consternation. His regard upon her was intense. “You’re one of the fae. I thought that would be obvious.”

“Fae?” Thea spluttered incredulously. “As in fucking fairies?” She shot a look at Conall, angry at him for bringing her to this lunatic.

But Conall was glaring at Vik. “Those are just myths. Legends.”

Thea shook her head, taking a step back from the crazy guy. “You … are you telling me you think I have something to do with the werewolf and vampire origin myth?”

“They’re not myths.” Vik shot a quelling look at Conall who had opened his mouth to protest. “I know you think only religious supes believe in this stuff, but it’s not religion, Conall. I’ve been researching a long, long time and there is enough evidence to prove its truth. I’m talking about primary sources. Supes who were actually there during the time of the fae.” He gestured to the book.

Confused, Thea sighed in exasperation and mounting panic. “I’ve only read a little about this stuff, so I’m lost here.”

Vik nodded. “Then allow me to explain. To understand you must know that there exists more than this dimension. The existence of fae proves there is at least one more than ours. They belong to another world. It’s similar to our own but different too. In our world, there are people connected to the earth. They use energy in a way that other humans could never hope to.”

“You’re talking about witches and warlocks,” Conall said, impatience edging his words.

“Exactly. We call it magic. In the fae world, magic is different. For a start, everyone who belongs to the fae world belongs to magic. To an earth witch, the magic on Faerie would be unstable, unusable without causing great destruction. But the fae are stronger, more complex beings than our witches. And thousands of years ago they opened a gate into our world.”

“You’re telling me that all the legends and stories about fairies are based in truth? That the fae walk among us?”

“Thea.” Vik grinned, shaking his head. “They didn’t just walk among us. They made supernaturals.”

“Religious bullshit,” Conall scoffed.

“Not religious bullshit. Truth! How else did we get here, Conall? Evolution in our dimension doesn’t work this way.” He gestured between himself and Conall. “We’re beings of a different kind of magic than what is found here on Earth, and deep down you know that too.” Vik turned back to Thea. “The fae are ruled by one queen—”

“The Faerie Queen?” Thea guffawed.

Vik scowled. “She could turn you to dust with the snap of her fingers, so show some respect, please. The fae are immortal. Truly immortal. When they grow weary of their long lives, it is said they drink from the queen’s cauldron and they’re reborn anew. The queen, Aine—spelled A-i-n-e, pronounced ‘awn-ya’—never grows weary, has never slept, and is the most powerful being in their world.”

“Fairy tales supes tell themselves to explain our existence.” Conall shook his head in disbelief.

Vik transformed from smirking young college student to cold-faced predator. He snarled, “Your ignorance is showing, Conall.”

Conall bared his teeth but didn’t comment.

The vampire rounded the desk to stare intensely at Thea. Some might say in awe, even. “Many stories have mixed up truths with myth over the years but here is the truth: For thousands of years, humans were taken to Faerie through the gate that Aine opened. They say the gate opened in Ireland, which is why the country is rife with folktales and the fae get their names from the Irish. It was said the queen had a particular fondness for humans who were like themselves but so fragile, so finite. The problem was that the fae are not actually like humans. They cannot be when they live forever. Boredom, eternity, it has a way of twisting a being who already has darkness in their soul. And we are all born with darkness and light. It doesn’t mean they are entirely ‘bad’. Like I said, the fae are complicated. And they amused themselves with court games and wickedness. They were in constant competition with one another.