War of Hearts(8)

“As she got older, she turned from a lost girl into a very angry young woman.” Tears brightened his dark eyes. “I researched the world of the paranormal, trying to find answers for her, but we couldn’t find anything definitive about what she was. She grew more distant, out of control and aggressive. Finally … she killed my wife and two of her security detail.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Mr. Ashforth. But I still dinnae know why you would seek me out.”

“Yes, you do, Conall.” He leaned forward. “That was six years ago. She’s been on the run ever since, leaving bodies and a trail of destruction across Europe. It’s my responsibility to find her and make sure she can’t hurt anyone again.”

Conall wasn’t sure he bought that. “You mean you want revenge?”

His nostrils flared. “Perhaps. But had you seen what she did to my wife and those men, I doubt you’d deny me that.”

Nodding in thought, Conall released a slow sigh. “How did you hear of my ability, Ashforth?”

“I’ve continued my research of the paranormal, trying to find those answers I couldn’t before. And money can buy a lot of information. I met a wolf who fought you. He told me that once you have a scent, you can track it anywhere in the world. It’s extraordinary.”

It also wasn’t quite how it sounded. It wasn’t as if Conall went around sniffing the air until he found his prey. It was more that he had an internal GPS and a scent was the postal code. It sounded like an odd ability, but matched with his reputation, it meant no supernatural on the planet would fuck with Conall MacLennan, knowing there was nowhere on earth they could hide from him if they did.

“So,” James interrupted, “let me get this straight. You want Conall to find this woman and bring her back, and in exchange you’ll give us her blood to cure Callie? What’s stopping Conall from finding the woman and taking her blood for himself?”

Ashforth nodded. “Because I won’t tell you where to begin, where you’ll find her scent, until you agree to release Caledonia into my custody.”

“Never.” Conall’s voice was deep with his inner wolf.

The thought of handing Callie over to a stranger made him murderous.

“I would never hurt your sister,” Ashforth assured. “And you could send one of your men to stay with her. But I’m sure you’ll agree that as a prudent businessman, I will need Caledonia as insurance.”

“Where would you keep her?” James asked.

Conall cut him a filthy look for even considering the notion.

“I’ve rented a castle on Loch Isla.”

“Castle Cara?”

Ashforth nodded and Conall narrowed his gaze. The castle he spoke of was situated about ninety minutes down the coast. Lord Mackenzie, who had renovated the centuries-old castle, owned it. Conall had never heard of him renting it out before so obviously Ashforth had offered a hefty incentive to do so. And Conall knew why he would. The castle could only be reached by boat and it had once been considered one of the most defensible castles in Scotland.

But that was then. This was now. Even so, he didn’t like that Ashforth would choose somewhere like Castle Cara to hole up in.

“No.”

“Conall.” James scowled. “Perhaps Callie should be the one to decide.”

Ignoring him, Conall addressed Ashforth. “Let me ask this. If I dinnae retrieve the girl, what happens to my sister?”

“If you can’t retrieve her, or if she kills you, I will release your sister. But if you betray me”—Ashforth’s expression slackened with weariness—“I will keep your sister and she will die of her disease before you ever get the chance to say goodbye.”

James lunged at Ashforth but Conall was faster, yanking his beta back by the scruff of his neck. James’s claws were out.

“Calm yourself.”

“I’m sorry to be so harsh,” Ashforth apologized. “But a desperate man does what he must.”

“Conall,” Grace’s voice cut through the room.

He looked at the woman he considered a grandparent. “Grace?”

She stepped forward, her expression one of heartbreaking sadness and hope. “If it would save her … shouldnae we try?”

“What of the girl?” Angus frowned. “Can we really barter a girl’s life for Callie’s?”

“She’s a murderer,” Conall answered. “I have no qualms about handing her over to save Callie. I do not, however, intend to offer Callie up as collateral.”

“It should be up to your sister,” Grace disagreed. “Dinnae take this choice away from her, Conall. Not when it could change everything.”

Worry needled him. But the hope in Grace’s eyes tugged at Conall’s heart. Callie could live. Like a true wolf again. Not trapped in her human half until it withered to nothing.

He looked at James.

The hope had buried its way into him too.

Callie and James.

They would be free to be with each other.

Sighing, Conall nodded. “If Callie agrees … then so must I.” He turned to Ashforth whose entire countenance was transformed with his own kind of hope. “The woman. Who is she? Where is she?”

“Her name is Thea Quinn. She’s twenty-five years old, of unknown species, and she was last spotted in mainland Europe where she murdered a shopkeeper.”