War of Hearts (True Immortality 1)

Finally he’d pulled himself together. “I’m going to bring Thea back without your help. Your people cannae be trusted.”

Ashforth had sounded affronted. “I assure you they can.”

“Well, that doesnae assure me. I’m doing this my way, which means I’ll be taking an out-of-the-way route back to Scotland to shake any tail we might have. I’ll not lead a dangerous coven into my country and anywhere near my pack. It’ll probably take us a few more days to get home.”

“Frankly,” Ashforth had spat, “that’s not good enough. I’m a businessman, Conall. I have fucking responsibilities elsewhere. You get back here immediately.”

The wolf had risen from inside easily after having been let loose earlier. The grizzle of the wolf made his voice coarse. “Dinnae ever dare speak to me that way. You’re not alpha here. I call the shots.”

“And I have your sister.”

Conall had let rip a feral growl, not caring who around them heard it. “Aye, but I have Thea. And I think I might only now understand just how important she is to you, so we’re even in that respect. Do you know where we’re not even, Ashforth? I have your scent. There is no amount of money in the world that can protect you from me. Nowhere for you to hide. If you touch one hair on either Callie’s or James’ heads, I will hunt you to the ends of the earth and fucking skin you alive. And that’s not a figure of speech.”

Ashforth had gone silent, and Conall had flicked a look at Thea leaning against the wall beside the pay phone, staring at the ground. A small, darkly satisfied smile had curled her lips as she’d listened to Conall’s threat. It’d made him feel about ten feet tall to give her that moment.

“Like I said, we’ll be a few days yet. I’ll call again when we’re getting closer. Now I’d like to speak with my sister.”

And so Conall had a few moments with Callie to hear her voice and assure himself she was okay. She sounded tired and bored, but beyond that, fine.

Afterward Conall made Thea move quickly, knowing Ashforth would no doubt trace the call and try to follow them.

They’d been on the road for more than an hour, mostly driving in silence. Over the last few days he’d learned that Thea, like him, wasn’t particularly loquacious unless you asked her something that required detail. He liked that about her. Their silence was easy, like two friends who had known each other a long time. However, it left Conall to his own thoughts, and his own thoughts were not a good place to be.

Thea had told him her weakness was pure iron. That revelation opened his mind to the most absurd conclusions that couldn’t possibly be true. Which was why he was taking her to his friend, Vik. Vik was a two-hundred and thirty-four-year-old vampire who split his time between Glasgow and Oslo. They’d met when he’d bought one of the oldest bottles of whisky in the GlenTorr collection. Conall had delivered it to him in Glasgow and been surprised to find the buyer was a vampire. They shared a similar sense of humor, and Vik’s breadth of knowledge on many subjects fascinated Conall. He was a devout researcher, with a plethora of degrees from several of the world’s best universities, and contacts all over the planet.

They’d kept in touch and Conall visited anytime they were both in Glasgow. He knew Vik was at his Oslo home because Conall had just sent a small crate of whisky over before he’d left to find Thea.

If anyone might know what Thea was, it would be Vik.

He knew everything about the supernatural world.

He’d be able to dispel the utter nonsense rolling around in Conall’s mind.

Conall flicked a look at his companion. He enjoyed looking at her. Too much.

She’d trusted him.

Fuck but that pleased him.

He wanted to reach over and tuck her hair behind her ear so he could better see her face, but he resisted. Wanting to touch her all the time had crept up on him. And he knew Thea was attracted to him too. He’d scented it.

It was a complication they didn’t need.

One Conall had to ignore.

For Callie’s sake, for the packs’.

For his and for Thea’s.

Conall needed to distract them both. “Did your parents know? About the iron?”

Her cognac eyes were almost black in the shadowed interior of the SUV. Her eyes appeared dark as jet in the photos Ashforth first showed Conall, and their rich warmth in real life had been unexpected. As was their soulfulness. How could he have thought this woman had any evil in her?

Arse, Conall. You’re a total and utter arse sometimes.

Thea’s voice pulled him from his self-derision. “There aren’t a lot of objects made from pure iron. Well, there wasn’t.” She shot him a sardonic look. “Recently there’s been a trend in using pure iron for decorative railings and such instead of wrought iron. That’s been fun.”