Burn for Me (Hidden Legacy #1)(108)

“I can’t be with you, no matter how crazy you make me, because you have no empathy, Rogan. I’m not talking about magic. I’m talking about the human ability to sympathize. I would matter to you only as long as I had some use, and even then, I would be more of an object than a lover or a partner. The gulf between us, both financially and socially, is too great. You would use me, and when you were done with me, you would dismiss me like a servant and I would have to go back to pick up the pieces of my life, and I’m not sure there would be anything left of it or of me by that point. So no, I won’t go away with you. I want to be with someone who would if not love, then genuinely care, for me. You are not that man.”

“Pretty speech,” he said.

“It’s the only one I’ve got.”

“I know what’s really going on here. You’re scared to step into my world. Afraid you can’t hack it. Much better to hide here and be a big fish in a very small pond.”

“If that’s the way you see it, fine.” I raised my chin. “I have nothing to prove to you, Rogan.”

“But now I have something to prove to you,” he said. “I promise you, I will win, and by the time I’m done, you won’t walk, you’ll run to jump into my bed.”

“Don’t hold your breath,” I told him.

All of his civilized veneer was gone now. The dragon faced me, teeth bared, claws out, breathing fire. “You won’t just sleep with me. You’ll be obsessed with me. You’ll beg me to touch you, and when that moment comes, we will revisit what happened here today.”

“Never in a million years.” I pointed at the doorway. “Exit is that—”

He grabbed me. His mouth closed on mine. His big body caged me in. His chest mashed my breasts. His arms pulled me to him, one across my back, the other cupping my butt. His magic washed over me in an exhilarating rush. My body surrendered. My muscles turned warm and pliant. My nipples tightened, my breasts ready to be squeezed, ready for his fingers and his mouth. An eager ache flared between my legs. My tongue licked his. God, I wanted him. I wanted him so badly.

He let me go, turned on his toes, and went out, laughing under his breath.

Aaargh! “That’s right! Keep . . . walking!”

I threw the wrench down.

“Now that was a kiss,” Grandma Frida said from the doorway behind me.

I jumped. “How long have you been there?”

“Long enough. That man means business.”

All my words tried to come out at once. “I don’t . . . what . . . asshole! . . . screw himself for all I care!”

“Aww, young love, so passionate,” Grandma said. “I’m going to buy you a subscription to Brides magazine. You should start shopping for dresses.”

I waved my arms and walked away from her before I said something I would regret.





Epilogue


He parked the car, got out, and looked at the house. A typical suburban home, a cookie-cutter traditional on a square of mowed grass. A dime a dozen in any subdivision. He walked to the door and tried the handle. Unlocked. Tom had said it would be.

He had left Thomas Waller with Daniela. By now Thomas was likely sedated. His teenage son had been arrested and charged with murder. His wife had disappeared. Then he’d gotten an email from her, and the contents of it had broken the last shreds of resolve Thomas had. His hands had been shaking when they’d spoken.

He walked through the house to the kitchen. A brand new laptop waited for him on the kitchen island, its box still nearby. Tom had followed the instructions in his wife’s email to the letter.

He checked the time. 6:59 p.m. He set his phone to record and placed it on the table behind him.

The clock on the screen blinked. 7:00 p.m. A blue icon flashed, indicating an incoming call. He tapped the icon.

Kelly Waller’s face filled the screen. “Hello, Connor.”

He hid his fury. “Why?” he asked.

“Because I hate you. I wanted you to know this. I hate you so much. If I could get my hands on you, I would grab you by the hair and I would hit your face into this island until it turned into a bloody mess. I would burn you. I would skewer you. I would vent my rage for days.”

That told him nothing. Ten years ago, when he had reached out to her through his mother and offered a college fund for Gavin, she had turned him down. She made it painfully obvious she wanted nothing that had the Rogan name attached to it. At the time he’d wondered if it was pride. Now he realized it had been hate, but he still didn’t understand it. “Why?”

“Because they loved you and praised you. Because you’re magic and I’m not, and I will never be good enough. I want to destroy you. I want to rip you apart with my hands, but I lack the strength, so I found some people who are a lot more powerful than me. I sacrificed my son for my revenge. But you failed me, Connor.”

Her face shook for a moment, distorted by anger. “We knew Adam was a loose cannon. We needed additional insurance, and who would be better than you. The Scourge. The Huracan. We knew there was a chance you would stop Adam but we counted on you destroying Houston in the process. You were doing it. I saw the buildings quake, and then you stopped. How is it you stopped, Connor? You could never stop your magic in the higher state, not since you were a child. Once you start the ascent, you continue until all of your power is exhausted. Not even your mother could reach you. What did you do? What happened? Is this some recent skill?”