by Linsey Hall
“You know, for years really isn’t the best way to sell this tin can,” Esha said from behind him as she and her cat followed him to the plane.
“No’ that many years. It’ll get us there. And it’s better than burning up your power by aetherwalking.”
Esha made a noise of assent from behind him. They’d left the Mythean games two hours ago, intent on making their way to Iceland and the soulceress settlement. Because there would be no power to draw from at the settlement, Esha didn’t want to burn hers by aetherwalking. She’d need all she could get when they faced Aurora.
They hauled gear bags that they’d packed in the morning across the tarmac. Thank gods Cadan had camping equipment. It had saved them a trip into town. No doubt the location would be remote as hell.
“This isn’t so bad,” Esha said when they entered the cabin of the plane.
Warren looked around at the cream leather of the eight plush seats. “No’ too bad, at all.”
Esha took a seat in the middle. Warren joined her. She slanted a glance at him, then reached forward and grabbed a magazine from the back of the seat in front of her.
She was going to ignore him? He supposed he couldn’t blame her, but it made guilt spike inside him. It lasted through takeoff and well into the flight, until he couldn’t take it anymore. There was no flight attendant, so they had privacy. And Esha couldn’t run away.
“Hey, I want to apologize for last night. And everything that happened before,” he said.
“Don’t worry about it.” She didn’t look up at him, instead choosing to flip more quickly through the magazine’s pages.
“I do, though. You thought I regretted kissing you. I could tell. But I dinna.”
“Whatever, Warren. It was a one-time thing. Just a roll in the hay, as they say back in America. Seriously, don’t worry about it.”
She didn’t mean it, not from the way she’d looked at him last night, not from the hitch in her voice now.
“You’re afraid of rejection, so you look for it everywhere.”
“Ugh. People need to quit telling me that.”
“Andrasta told you that too, did she no’?”
“How do you know that?”
“I asked her. I wanted to understand you.”
Skepticism flashed across her face. “Asking someone what it’s like to be feared and despised your whole life doesn’t make you understand it. And why the hell do you want to understand me, anyway? So you can get me to do what you want more easily?”
“No, lassie. Because I care for you.”
“No. At best, you want to sleep with me. But care for me? No. Don’t say that, because you don’t.”
“You doona know that.”
“Please. I am what I am. And Mytheans don’t like what I am. But I’m used to it. I don’t hold you to any higher standard than I do them. Maybe once I thought you were different, but I was wrong and it’s fine. I agreed to help you find Aurora and I’m not going back on my word, so don’t worry about that. Let’s just do this job and go on our way.”
She’d erected a mental wall against him. More than that, she expected so little of him. Of any of them. It made his chest hurt.
“I’m no’ saying these things because I want to ensure that you’ll help me. I do care for you. You’re brave and smart. You’ve had adversity in life that few can understand, yet you’ve risen above it and become one of the strongest Mytheans in Scotland. But you’re compassionate. You helped Diana, and you’re helping me. I was stupid no’ to see past what you are.”
Her eyes widened. “Good words. Some guys have a knack for good words.”
Like the boy who’d ditched her when she was young and coming into her power? “I mean them. They’re no’ just words.”
She frowned doubtfully. “My whole life, only Ana has ever been unreservedly nice to me and not turned on me. But you expect me to trust you when you need my help and might say anything to get it?”
“I already told you, I trust you not to go back on your word.”
“You trust me? Really?” Disbelief and sarcasm tinged her tone, but desire edged beneath. She wanted his trust, even if she didn’t want to admit it. “Maybe so, though I’ve no idea how I’m supposed to believe that. Or you, when you’re so hellbent on killing Aurora.”
Tell her. His initial prejudice against her was born of his past and what Aurora had done. His unwillingness to compromise on Aurora’s fate was directly linked to her evil deeds. Esha needed to know what was at stake before she could ever possibly trust him. All he had to do was tell her.
But he couldn’t. Not when it would reveal the horror of his past. Keeping this secret had become his identity. Atoning for it even more so. And now he was going to reveal it? Face the censure and disgusted looks he’d avoided for centuries?
Esha shook her head and said, “Forget it. You’re right. I’ll help you find her, though there’s no way I’ll let you hurt her. As for whether or not you trust me and don’t hate what I am, it doesn’t matter, does it? I came onto you first and started this mess, so it’s right that I finish it.” She turned back to her magazine and began flipping the pages.
Damn it. She was shutting him out. He wanted her to believe him. Not just because they needed to have the same goals when it came to Aurora, but because he really was starting to care for her.
“Wait. I’ve got to tell you something.”
She slanted a skeptical glance at him.
“It’s about Aurora. And me. I’ve been acting like an arse because my mind is a mess right now. Aurora’s release is… a huge problem for me.”
She arched a brow.
“You know that I doona have a soul.”
Skepticism faded from her face as understanding bloomed. “Oh, shit.”
“Aye. I sold it to Aurora. In exchange for the lives of my fellow clansmen. That was after I’d killed my four cousins—men I loved like brothers.” He could feel her gaze boring into him, and though he met it briefly, his gaze was drawn to the window behind her shoulder. He couldn’t bear to look at her when she wrote him off for good.
“How?” she whispered.
He started at the beginning, with the witch burnings and his time as a mortal. When he got to the part about Aurora’s mother coming to him for help, he saw Esha’s hand tighten on the armrest of her seat. The murder of his cousins made her gasp, as did the scene of Avera’s death and the rescue of the child.
“When the fire was raging through the forest and getting closer to my village, I offered her anything to stop. She was driven mad by the death of her mother, and she wanted my soul. I sold it to her in exchange for her mercy for my village. It’s the last thing I remember. I came to in the forest, which was blackened by fire and destroyed. Eventually I learned that she’d been arrested by the university for stealing many more souls all across Europe. She was overwhelmingly powerful, or they’d have killed her. I want to kill her for making me a soulless monster.”
~~~
“Not a monster,” Esha said, concern for Warren suppressing all the hurt and confusion of the past days.
Worry radiated from him, and disgust as well. The shadows at his feet writhed and she wondered again about them. Was it possible to have shadows because you believed so truly that you’d committed evil? But he hadn’t. Not really.
“I’m sorry for your loss, and for your cousins’ deaths, but it was a mistake. Not some great big evil crime. Mytheans kill people all the time.”
“But that’s just it. I’m no’ a Mythean. I was young and cocky and self-righteous and violent and I enjoyed taking their lives. While I was killing them, I loved every second.”
Esha shrugged. “Sure. They were evil. I love killing rogues.”
“No, they were my family, and they were afraid and confused. That’s what had them out there hunting witches. And I killed them. Worse, I loved doing it. I was a different man then, as zealous as they, but with a different goal. It blinded me to the fact that they were being drawn in
by the witch hunters.” Tortured memories flashed in his eyes.
Understanding dawned. So that’s why he didn’t fight anymore. He didn’t like the person he was when he had a sword in his hand. “You didn’t do anything wrong. They used their superior strength and the power of a mob to kill innocent people.”
“Maybe. But I’m no’ so different than they. Worse, now that I’ve sold my soul. I’d do it again to save the village, but I’ve no humanity left. That’s what I’m fighting for.”
No humanity? She couldn’t imagine what it would be like to believe you’d sold your humanity. To live without your soul, with the threat of it being used against you. Wouldn’t she do anything to get her soul back if it were in the hands of another?
“Gods, Warren. You’re as fucked up as I am. No wonder you back away from me. We’re a terrible pair.”
A chuff of dark laughter escaped him. “Aye, perhaps. But I doona back away from you because I doona want you. I back away because I’ve used abstinence to keep my mind off the past.”
“Wait, what?”
“Celibacy. About a hundred years ago, I stopped doing anything that made me feel too much—sex, drink, hell, even betting on horses. High emotions remind me of everything I felt in the past and cutting it out made me a hell of a lot more sane. Once I noticed how much calmer my mind was, it was easy to cut out the good stuff.”
Shock blanked out all the thoughts in Esha’s mind. No sex in a century? “Wow.”
Warren looked away, the barest hint of red at his cheekbones. “Until you, that is.”
The overhead speaker emitted a dinging noise and the melodious voice of the captain interrupted the jumble of thoughts fighting for real estate in Esha’s brain. “We’re about to start our descent into Höfn. The local time is six-fifteen in the evening, and the weather is a balmy thirty-one degrees Fahrenheit.”
Esha used the distraction to break the conversation, and Warren seemed okay with it. She had a hell of a lot to process, and maybe he did too.
Thirty minutes later, they descended the roll-away stairs onto the tarmac at the tiny Mythean airport in the southern Icelandic town of Höfn. Cold wind whipped through the dark night, the only illumination from a half-full moon and the landing strip’s lights.
Warren gestured to an SUV pulled up to the side of the only building. “That’ll be Felix.”
Esha nodded and followed him over to their contact from the university. Felix had apparently worked at the university in the eighteenth century, before moving to Iceland to get away from the crowds. Esha had never met him before, but when he stepped out of the SUV she thought he looked familiar.
He was big and hard-looking, with dark hair and eerie silver eyes. He held out his hand and said, “Felix.”
She shook. “Esha. Thanks for meeting us.”
The drive to the southeastern edge of the glacier was quiet. Felix wasn’t much of a talker, but with everything running through her head, Esha didn’t mind. He dropped them off at a small house on his property, told them the fridge had food, and that he’d be back in the morning with snowmobiles that they could take up onto the glacier to find what they were looking for. They hadn’t mentioned exactly what it was and he hadn’t asked.
“Not much for conversation, is he?” Esha asked as Felix’s SUV lights disappeared up the drive to the nearby house he’d said was his. She turned from the doorway and shut out the cold night air.
“Nor company. Felix helps out the university staff now and again, but for the most part he keeps to himself.” Warren turned and opened the fridge, then pulled out the minimal contents for dinner.
Esha looked around the small space. It was a two-room wooden cabin. One room for a tiny living room, kitchen, and dining area, with a bedroom and bath in the back. A little loft over the bedroom served as a second sleeping area. The Chairman had already set up camp on the sofa.
“How do you feel about pork chops with a side of zucchini?” Warren asked.
“Fine.”
“Good. That’s all that’s in here. Looks like Felix stocked us up for the night. And tomorrow. There’s eggs and milk.”
“Nice guy. You cook?” she asked. It was too awkward to keep silent.
“Aye. Canna live as long as I have and no’ learn.” He set a skillet on the stove and started to chop the zucchini. When he finished, he searched the three cabinets and pulled down salt and pepper and oil. “But doona expect anything fancy. No’ much in the way of spices here.”
“As long as I’m not cooking, I’ll be happy.” She went to the fridge to grab a beer she’d spotted there. “Want a beer? Oh—but you don’t—”
He smiled. “I drink. Just in moderation.”
“So, moderation for beer, but abstinence for everything else?”
CHAPTER TWENTY THREE
Warren felt his cheekbones heat. “Aye, except with you. Give me a beer.”
She held out the bottle and their fingers touched. A thrill crept up his arm. He wanted to yank her to him. Instead, he turned toward the stove. As much as he wanted her, it was a terrible idea. And he wanted to prove that he wanted her for more than her body.
He tossed the pork chops in the heated pan. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the Chairman perk up from the couch and then hop down to stalk into the kitchen. He stared up demandingly at the stove, his bullish little face intent on the sizzling meat.
“Chairman, leave him alone.”
The cat ignored her.
“He wants pork,” he said.
“He wants everything.”
“Aye, and he’ll have it. There are three in here.” He’d planned to eat two, but with the Chairman looking at him like this, there was no way he wasn’t sharing. And he doubted the Chairman would settle for the tinned cat food they’d brought for the trip.
After a few minutes, the pork was done and the zucchini nearly there. He slid the chops onto a plate, then plucked one off and put it on a smaller plate for the cat.
“Watch your hand! That’s got to be hot.”
He shrugged. Though he wasn’t a true Mythean, he had their healing ability. He felt pain less than mortals and wounds healed quickly, especially small ones. Considering that without his soul, nothing on heaven or earth could kill him, a little burn from a pork chop was nothing.
“It’s fine,” he said, lowering the now cooling chop to the floor for the cat. If the Chairman had been a normal cat, he’d have cut it up. But he’d seen the Chairman with a steak he’d pulled out of the fridge back at Cadan’s house on Mull. The cat liked the challenge of tearing into a whole piece of meat.
“You’re feeding my cat again?” she asked, something unidentifiable in her voice.
“Aye. I like him.”
He caught her appraising look as she raised her beer bottle to her mouth. He had to force himself to drag his gaze away from her lips. He shifted and turned back to the stove, hiding the fact that his cock was growing obnoxiously hard just from looking at her. It took only a second to serve up the simple meal and he and Esha sat at the small table pressed against the wall.
“Thanks,” she said when he placed the dish in front of her.
He watched her take a bite. There was a primal satisfaction in feeding her. He hadn’t had anyone to take care of in centuries.
“This is really good. Do you do a lot of cooking back home?”
“Some. I’ve a nice kitchen that I remodeled a while back. I actually used to live in your tower flat before you arrived at the university.”
She did a double take. “Oh? I thought it was just for outcasts.”
Guilt stabbed at him, an icepick straight to the gut. “Ah, well.”
“You know it’s true. It’s a beautiful place, but it’s at the far edge of campus, as far from everything else as a building could be.”
He sighed. “Aye. When you came, we weren’t sure where to put you. I liked it when I lived there. A fine place.”
“I guess it is, if you don’t mind being a pariah.”
<
br /> “You’re no’.”
“Yes, I am.” Her voice was fierce, the amber in her eyes darker than usual.
“You shouldn’t be.”
“Sure.” She stabbed another piece of zucchini, clearly wanting to change the subject. “So, why were you placed in the pariah tower?”
He shrugged, not wanting to answer. But he owed her the truth. “You once called me a mystery monster.”
She flinched. “Sorry about that.”
“Doona worry about it, you were right. When I sold my soul, I became something other. Deathless in a way that no other immortal is, since I have no soul to take my consciousness to an afterworld.”
Esha put down her fork and stared at him. “So you mean that decapitation or immolation or magic can’t kill you like it will the rest of us?”
“Aye. Without my soul as my ticket to an afterworld, my body will reform with my consciousness. As a result of the change, I popped up on the university’s radar. I couldn’t stay with my clan. It would reveal the existence of Mytheans.”
“Maybe not.”
“Well, it would reveal that immortality is possible, since I’d never die. That’s close enough. The university knew they had to do something with me. They gave me a place to live—the tower, since they dinna know what I was or what I was capable of—until they figured out a place for me.”
“With the Praesidium.”
“Aye.”
She nodded, then laughed bitterly. “So maybe if I stayed another hundred years, I’d make it out of pariah status.”
“You’re no’ a pariah to me.”
The smallest smile pulled at the edge of her mouth, but she changed the subject. “So, your kitchen. Did you do the renovation yourself?”
“Aye. I like to build things.”
“I know.” He raised an eyebrow, and she flushed. “I saw you go into the Veterans’ League once, to do woodworking with the soldiers. Why do you do that?”
He shrugged. “I like it.”
She nodded encouragingly, brows raised, as if she knew there was more that he wasn’t saying. But he’d said enough today.
