Money.
Greed.
Survival.
But mine, mine was awoken, the connection established as if someone had sewn my shadow back to my feet.
Hell. I was the Peter Freaking Pan of my people.
“Here, boss,” Octavian said from the front seat.
He would die later.
For putting Hope in harm’s way by allowing Alex to get free.
Alex. His name left a bitter taste in my mouth — the man had no idea how powerful he was.
His power would destroy everything.
Better he die than risk the lives of all of the immortals — Hope included. He was capable of killing so many — and what was worse? He wasn’t aware of how easily he could be used as a pawn… if someone got ahold of his power, his thoughts.
I shuddered and stepped outside the car.
Hope did not follow.
I didn’t expect her to.
She was scared.
And while I wished I had time to go slow — time was of the essence, so I walked around to her side of the car, opened the door and held out my leather-gloved hand. “Come.”
“But—”
“Hope.” I snarled her name. “You don’t have to trust me, not yet, just know, that I will protect you until my last breath — do you understand?”
“Why?”
“Humans,” I spat. “Always wanting to know the reason, as if the reason will make this any easier!”
“Elf,” she corrected in a small voice, her eyes finally lifting to meet mine. They were a glorious brown, the color of the very earth that had formed her so long ago. The first real human race, until it all went to Hell.
Literally.
“Sorry,” I whispered. “You’re correct.” I took a deep soothing breath. The air smelled like her, like dirt and sand, roses and trees, rain and forest mist. “Elf.”
With a gulp, she put her shaky warm hand in mine and stood to her full height which hit me just below mid chest.
“You’re tall.” She had to lean completely back to look me in the eyes.
“Yes, well,” I tilted my head. “We can’t all be short little elves.”
Her shoulders hunched. “Like the Nabisco Elves.”
I barked out a laugh. “You’re no cookie elf.”
“Thanks.”
I tugged her toward the house, my house, the only safe place I could think to bring her.