War of Hearts(85)

As Conall was out of cash and unable to use his credit card to buy Norwegian krone, Thea suggested they steal Vik’s credit card. She laughed at the Scot’s expression. “He betrayed us, Conall. A little financial aid is not a lot to ask.”

“I shouldnae have to steal from anyone,” he muttered, drying his hair with a towel as he slumped on Vik’s sofa. His hair fell in damp curls around his forehead and at the nape of his neck. Thea had to resist the urge to stride across the room and bury her hands in it.

The need to feel him, real, alive, his body against hers, was almost unbearable.

Mate.

It explained these overwhelming feelings, yet it was still difficult for her to wrap her head around. So instead, she rummaged through Vik’s drawers, and when that was unsuccessful, she moved to the next logical location. The jackets hanging by the door.

“Jackpot.” She tugged the leather wallet out of a tailored wool coat. The vampire really had been in a rush to get the hell out of Dodge. Weaselly little coward. “Ah, even better.” Thea pulled out a thick wad of krone. “No one can follow a cash trail. This should be enough for a hotel room.” She frowned. “But not enough for the ferry.”

While Conall had been showering, Thea had used Vik’s computer to find a ferry crossing to the UK. Unbelievably, there wasn’t a direct passenger ferry. There was only a freight ferry from Brevik, Norway, to Immingham, England.

It was a thirty-six-hour crossing with no cabin, but it would have to do. The plan was to get a hotel room in Oslo, sleep away the exhaustion of almost dying, and then drive to Brevik in the morning where they’d catch the ferry to England.

“We’ll use my credit card,” Conall said, standing up to pull on a fresh T-shirt. “We’re on our way home. It doesnae matter if Ashforth tracks us.”

“But a ticket from Norway to England will make him suspicious. He’ll want to know why we detoured this way. We’ll use Vik’s.” Thea gave him a look. “We do what we have to do to survive.”

He deliberately looked around the apartment at the fifteen piles of ash they’d leave as a present for Vik. Conall’s pale gray eyes returned to hers. “That we do, lass.”

Deciding to shower at the hotel, Thea changed her clothes and scrubbed off the blood spatter on her face. Conall had used the first aid kit to bandage her wrist and as he did so, Thea admitted to herself she’d be glad for a night’s rest. The iron had weakened her, and she felt slightly lethargic. The last thing she did before they left Vik’s apartment was grab his copy of Jerrik’s writings on Faerie. When she had time, Thea wanted to read about Eirik’s brothers’ accounts for herself.

They found a hotel in the center of Oslo and as soon as they walked into the room, Conall ordered room service. In the shower, Thea scrubbed her body clean and fought the urge to scream as images of Eirik clasping her by the throat while Conall lay dying beyond her grasp flashed over and over in her mind.

Conall had been right earlier. It didn’t matter if she really was a member of a now-mythological race. There were people out there who believed she was. Even she believed she was. It was enough to put her in danger for the rest of her life, and thus anyone who came into contact with her. Nearly everyone she’d ever loved had died, and the thought of adding Conall to that list was soul destroying. She should leave him. After she helped him get his sister and beta back, Thea had to leave him to protect him. The thought trembled through her as she leaned her forehead against the hard tile and fought back an indignant sob.

Before Conall, being alone was a fact of life. One she bore.

Going out into the world, leaving him behind … it didn’t bear thinking about.

And there was the fact she could never outrun him.

Somehow Thea didn’t think Conall would let her go so easily.

That thrilled her more than it made her despair.

She was so selfish.

Yet something else Vik had told them that morning prodded at her, pricking to life a spark of hope she couldn’t shake.

While drying her hair, Thea watched Conall dive into the food room service had delivered. In fact, they watched each other, as if afraid to look away in case one of them disappeared.

Exhausted, Thea had eaten some food, but her wrist still throbbed, and her head was messy and full and foggy. She just wanted the events of the day to disappear for a while.

She couldn’t remember falling asleep, yet she awoke before dawn, on her left side facing the wall. She was naked, obviously having been disrobed before tucked under the covers. Thea could feel the warm length of Conall’s body pressed along her back, his heavy arm draped over her waist, his hand resting between her breasts. His soft, even breathing on the pillow behind her told her he was asleep.

Everything that had happened came flooding back in a deluge. She tensed, biting back a whimper. Conall had nearly died.

She couldn’t get the image of him dying, that silver knife in his neck, all the blood, out of her head.

There was a small, not very nice part of her that wanted to be angry at the wolf for becoming so integral, so important to her happiness. A mating bond. Jesus Christ! Why did he have to come along and wolf-bond with her?

Or was it her fault?

Eirik had said the mating bond had been passed down by the fae, so if she was fae, then actually the mating was her fault.

So lost in her thoughts, Thea didn’t hear Conall’s breathing change. She only realized he was awake when she felt a kiss upon a scar on her back. Thea went rigid for a millisecond, then his lips caressed another scar. And then another. Her body melted. His clasp on her breast became fingertips trailing down her stomach as he placed reverent kisses along her scarred spine.