War of Hearts: A True Immortality Novel

by Young, S.

  “Me too. Until a vamp punched a hole in my chest.” Although she tried to hide behind levity, he heard the slight tremble of uncertainty in her words.

  “Is that the closest you’ve come to death, lass?”

  “No,” she whispered, the duvet rustling as she turned her back to him. “Death and I are old friends.”

  * * *

  Despite her assurances, Conall refused to sleep. Instead, his mind returned him to the events of the night, to the moment he’d tracked Thea’s scent to the theater, when he walked in and saw the vampire punch a hole through Thea’s chest as the others held her captive. Panic unlike anything he’d felt suffused him, and he’d acted on savage instinct.

  One minute he’d been at the theater door, the next he was across the room, claws and teeth out. He’d swung his arm toward the vampire’s neck with the force of an axe, pouring his rage into it.

  He could still feel the moment his claws severed through skin, muscle, and bone, the impact juddering up his shoulder and into his teeth.

  It was Conall’s first vampire kill, and three more had followed. Guilt didn’t come to him, however, as he laid staring at the hotel ceiling, listening to the almost imperceptible sound of Thea breathing.

  Conall had vampire acquaintances, a few he even considered friends. They were based in Glasgow, though like most vamps, his friends liked to travel. Although Conall knew many vampires had no qualms about killing humans, they tended not to. A quick bite here and there was usually the extent of the damage they caused. But the older they got, the less empathetic many of them seemed to grow toward humans. And there were always the psychopaths among any species.

  Mostly, vampires and werewolves kept their distance from one another. It was instinct. Some believed the reason for the natural discord was rooted in their origins, but then Conall didn’t believe in the origin stories.

  It was his opinion that vampires were generally arrogant, superior fuckers who thought they were better than wolves and that was the cause of their natural discord. Moreover, wolves tended to have more respect for human life because they too were mortal.

  Still, Conall had never been moved to kill one before this evening. But killing those vampires had been easy as a possessive, protective instinct roared through his body at witnessing Thea’s capture.

  It wasn’t because of Thea.

  Seeing her close to death had made him realize how close he was to losing his last hope to save Callie. He turned his head on the pillow to stare at Thea in the dark.

  Aye, that’s all it had meant.

  Being able to last longer on little sleep than a human was a major advantage when you didn’t trust your companion not to kill you. Conall forced himself to sit up in bed, worried that the soft sounds of Thea breathing would lull him to sleep. Grabbing the phone Ashforth had given him off the nightstand, he downloaded a word search app Callie had gotten him addicted to and kept his brain awake with the distraction.

  Minutes from dawn, Conall noticed the change in Thea’s breathing. It stuttered and hitched, and he looked over at her, frowning. After a few seconds of nothing, just when he was about to turn back to the phone, she began to whimper.

  He immediately suspected she was trying to trick him and silently swung his legs off the bed. As he did so, Thea made a garbled, choking sound, like she was in pain and holding it in. Hovering over her, Conall realized it wasn’t a trick when he saw her hair sticking to her temple with sweat.

  She’d screwed up her face in anguish in her sleep, her pretty lips pinched together in pain.

  “Jesus,” Conall muttered as she began to writhe. He reached out a hand to her shoulder to shake her awake. “Thea, wake up. It’s just a dr—”

  The room transformed into a blur of its muted colors and his breath was abruptly knocked out of him. The feel of Thea’s warm body straddling his to the floor disoriented Conall until she wrapped her hands around his throat and began to choke him.

  There was a glazed look of fury in her dark eyes as she squeezed.

  Realizing she was locked in her nightmare, Conall rolled them. It wasn’t easy. In fact, it took most of his strength. Her grip on his throat loosened as he flipped them and he grabbed her hands, pinning them to the floor at either side of her head. “Wake up, Thea!”

  She struggled against him, her thighs tight around his hips, and shock moved through him as she snapped at his wrist like a wolf. Heat pooled deep in his groin where it pressed flush to hers.

  Fuck!

  Conall pushed off her, springing back on his haunches and just like that, she grew still except for the heaving of her chest. The neckline of her shirt had pulled down during their tussle and sweat glistened across the swell of her breasts.

  He forced his eyes to her face, shaken by his response.

  Angered by it.

  “Jesus, fuck, woman, remind me never to wake you up from a nightmare again,” he snapped.

  She blinked rapidly. Confusion filled her low, melodic voice. “Conall?”

  “Aye, it’s me.” He stood up and reluctantly held a hand out to her.

  Thea eyed it suspiciously and sat up. “What happened?”

  “You were having a nightmare. I made the mistake of trying to rouse you and you choked me.”

  Ignoring his outstretched hand, she rose to her feet, straightening her clothes without meeting his eyes. She brushed the long strands of her soft hair from her face and moved toward the bed, slumping down on it with a weary exhalation.

  Curiosity got the better of him. “What was the nightmare about?”

  Thea shot him a sardonic look. “Would you believe me if I said it was you?”

  He grunted. “It pains me to say, but I think you fear me as much as a shark fears a wee fish.”

  Her lips twitched and the laughter that glittered in her eyes took Conall aback. “Not quite.”

  The basic ringtone of his temporary phone blasted, cutting off his quest to ask more about her nightmares. Striding across the room, Conall answered, his voice impatient and gruff with self-directed frustration. “This better be my sister.”

  The sound of Callie’s gentle laughter soothed him. “Then thank goodness it is.”

  He hadn’t realized until that moment how tightly wound he was about leaving Callie with Ashforth. Hearing her voice was a balm to the guilt he carried about letting his sister be used as a pawn in this hunt for Thea. Flicking a look at his prey, he noted she was watching him and listening in.

  Fine.

  He didn’t care.

  She should know how important Callie was to him. Understanding that would make her understand the hopelessness of her position. This only ends one way, he silently reminded her with his expression.

  Or was he silently reminding himself?

  “Are you all right?” He turned from Thea’s intense regard.

  “I’m fine. Some guards complain a lot among themselves. Apparently, our food is horrible, and the castle is cold.”

  Conall smirked. Wolves ran at hotter temperatures than humans and so the cold didn’t bother them. Luckily for them because winters in the Highlands weren’t exactly a Caribbean paradise. “Where do these guards come from?”

  “There’s a mingling of accents.”

  Conall nodded, thinking he’d get strategic information from James instead of grilling his sister. Once upon a time, as lead warrior, it had been her job to compile that kind of information, but Conall didn’t want to tire her out. “But you’re comfortable? They havenae done anything to you?”

  “I’m very comfortable,” she assured him. “He’s given me the nicest bedroom in the castle and I have free roam of the place as long as a guard accompanies me. And James is always with me.”

  “Always?”

  She chuckled. “He sleeps in a cot at the bottom of my bed. The perfect gentleman, to my great frustration.”

  “You didnae just say that to your brother,” Conall heard James complain in the background.

  Callie laughed, and
he closed his eyes against the sound. That was all it took. It reminded him that if he didn’t succeed in bringing Thea back to Castle Cara, there would be a short limit to the times he’d hear Callie laugh.

  “Put James on, sweetheart.”

  “Okay. I miss you, big brother.”

  “I miss you too. I’ll be home soon.”

  After a shuffling noise, his beta’s voice filled his ear. “Conall?”

  “She’s doing okay?”

  “Callie’s fine. We’re the best-treated prisoners in the world.”

  Conall bared his teeth. “Aye, not for long. How many guards?”

  “It’s not their numbers that worry me. Several of the night guards are vampires and Ashforth has lone wolves on the daytime guard. A few of them are big, mean buggers.”

  “Vamps and wolves?” He frowned. “I’d like to know how one human man can amass so many contacts in the paranormal community.”

  “Money. I’ve overheard the guards talking and they’re being paid extremely well to guard us.”

  “Dishonorable fucks,” Conall sneered. It was one thing to take the risk of going into business with a human who was emotionally blackmailing him to save his sister’s life. It was another thing entirely to act as a prison guard against your own kind for the sake of something as fleeting as money.

  But that was lone wolves for you.

  “You doing okay, Chief?” James asked.

  “Things … are a little complicated. It seems I’m not the only one after Ashforth’s ward. But we’ll be in Scotland in several days if all goes to plan.”

  They hung up with assurances to speak again soon and Conall looked over at Thea. She was standing by the window, the morning sun casting her in a halo of light as she stared out into the city. Feeling his regard, she glanced over at him. “I’m not Ashforth’s ward. I’m not his anything, and you can’t trust him.”

  Conall glowered at what he was sure was an attempt to manipulate him. Finally. He’d been waiting for her to take this path and was relieved he hadn’t misjudged her. “And I suppose I should trust you instead?”

  Thea shook her head. “You shouldn’t trust anyone who can never trust you in return.”

  Struck silent by the weary wisdom of those words, Conall’s scowl deepened. He wanted her to attempt to manipulate him. To fill his ears with lies about Ashforth. Instead, she continually surprised him.

  The urge to ask for her side of her story was great, but he refrained. Conall now doubted Thea would tell him. She would have done so by now. There was a moment he thought she was going for it, and instead she’d chosen silence. That was frustrating for many reasons, mostly because he appreciated that she wasn’t trying to manipulate him, just as much as he wished she fucking would.

  The phone rang again and this time when Conall answered, it was Ashforth.

  “I trust you’re happy that your sister is being well cared for?” he asked without preamble.

  “As much as I can be.”

  “And Thea? I assume you’ve caught up with her?”

  “I have. Unfortunately, she was in a bit of bother with a few vampires who told her someone hired them to grab her. Any news on who this unknown hunter is?”

  “There are rumors that a coven is after a young woman with healing blood and are willing to pay a reward to anyone who brings her to them. Thea’s description has been passed along to several contacts throughout Europe.” Anger was clear in Ashforth’s words.

  “She’s still a needle in a haystack,” Conall mused, not overly concerned. “What’s the name of the coven?”

  “The Blackwoods. They’re a wealthy group of witches and warlocks from Maine. I came across them in my research years ago … but I have no idea how they could have discovered Thea’s existence, let alone her abilities.”

  Conall sighed. “There’s nothing to be done about it now. We’ll avoid major cities.” His eyes flickered to Thea who was staring at the floor. Her tense body language told him she was listening in. “Of course, this would be easier and faster if we could just take a plane back to Scotland.”

  Her gaze flew to his, and he marveled at how such warm, dark eyes could turn to black ice in an instant. “I guess plummeting to death would be faster than a road trip across Europe.”

  Amusement tickled his lips, but it instantly fled when Ashforth whispered, “Was that her? Is that Thea?”

  There was something like reverence in his voice, except darker, desperate. It was not the tone of a man bent on revenge but something else entirely. Confused, Conall asked, “Why would this coven be interested in Thea’s blood? If it’s about her healing abilities, surely they could find a way to become an immortal; get bitten by a vampire. Or even a wolf if all they’re interested in is some longevity and strength. They’ve got enough between them to pay supes to do it.”

  “Well, vampires are not true immortals,” Ashforth’s tone returned to normal. “They can still be killed.”

  “None of us are truly immortal.”

  “Yes, well, I don’t believe immortality is the coven’s goal, but I’m also not sure what is their goal.”

  Exasperated by what sounded like a lie, he replied shortly, “We’ll drive through Germany, avoiding the cities if we have to stop. I willnae give you an estimated time of arrival since things arenae exactly going to plan at the moment.”

  “That’s fine. Call in tomorrow at the same time. And tell Thea I’ll see her soon.”

  Conall hung up, scowling at the phone.

  “Hard for an alpha to take orders, huh?”

  He half expected her to gloat. Instead, she eyed him like she was trying to figure him out.

  “What was your nightmare about?” he asked before he could overthink his curiosity.

  She held his gaze for a few seconds and Conall thought she might answer. Instead she moved away from the window and grabbed her small backpack off the floor. “I’m going to use the bathroom and then I could eat before we leave, if that’s okay.”

  He pushed. “The nightmare, Thea?”

  She sighed, a long, slow exhale. “You don’t really want to know, Conall. You need to believe I’m your enemy, for your sister’s sake.”

  “And you telling me about your nightmare … you think that will change things, do you?” Why the fuck was he pushing this?

  “You said it yourself. Nothing will stop you from saving her life.”

  She was right. “Nothing, lass.” He stood up slowly and Thea took a wary step back. “I’ll protect you until we reach Scotland. Where I fully intend to hand you over to Ashforth as soon as you save my sister’s life.”

  Thea didn’t seem particularly upset by any of this but Conall suspected she was very good at hiding her feelings.

  Not long later, after Thea had freshened up and pulled the masses of her rich, dark hair into a ponytail, Conall took the risk of using the bathroom to relieve himself but nothing more. He needed a fresh change of clothes; however, it would have to wait.

  Leaving the hotel room, Thea fell naturally into stride beside him and he ignored the urge to look at her. When they stopped at the elevator, she reached to press the down button and when she lowered her arm, the back of her hand brushed against his. His skin tingled at the touch and he frowned at her.

  “Sorry,” she muttered, avoiding his gaze.

  Consternated by his hyperawareness of her, Conall faced forward and scowled.

  Thankfully, the doors opened with a musical bing and an older couple started to smile at them until they took in Conall’s size. They shrank back against the elevator. Conall was immune to this kind of reaction and gestured for Thea to enter first, crowding in behind her.

  As the doors closed, he glanced at her. Her eyes were downcast beneath her thick, sooty lashes. “So, no plans to kill me today?”

  The couple sharing their elevator exchanged a wide-eyed look and Conall realized they spoke English. Oh well.

  Thea looked up at him and her lush lips parted into a slow smile. “Not
today.” The elevator jolted to a stop, and she moved past him with a nonchalant shrug. “But there’s always tomorrow.”

  There was nothing but the sound of the road whooshing beneath their tires and the whir of cars passing by. The wolf apparently didn’t like to listen to the radio. A little over an hour outside Prague, they’d driven directly through a border point to Germany without being stopped and were now taking the freeway just outside Dresden. Conall had barely said a word to Thea from the moment they’d stepped out of the elevator at the hotel. In fact, he’d been gruff throughout breakfast.

  Thea wasn’t oblivious. A big part of surviving the life she’d been living since she was nineteen years old was being able to read people. She’d studied body language and the way it betrayed even the most stoic. Of course, her spooky supernatural heightened instincts helped a lot.

  The alpha, however, wasn’t that easy to read. Yet she’d learned some stuff in one morning. Thea had learned his entire demeanor changed when he was talking on the phone to his sister. His harsh expression softened, and his voice heated from a cold gravel to a warm rumble. Thinking of the photograph she’d seen in his wallet, Thea wondered where his parents were in all of this. Were they dead? Was his sister the last of his family?

  Thea also learned that Conall did not like Ashforth. She wasn’t even sure the Scot was aware of his dislike for the American, but he wore this sneer on his face when he was talking to the bastard who had fucked up her life.

  Finally, Thea observed something else about Conall over breakfast at the hotel. When she spoke, he watched her mouth. When she wasn’t looking, she could feel his eyes on her face. When she first got into the car and leaned into the back to put her rucksack on the passenger bench, she caught his gaze moving swiftly away from her breasts. There was a barely perceptible flex of the muscle in his jaw as he stared mutely ahead.

  If she wasn’t mistaken, the wolf was attracted to her.

  And he really, really didn’t want to be.

  The suspicion caused a strange fluttering in Thea’s belly anytime she looked at him. She hadn’t encountered anyone like Conall and wasn’t exactly sure how to feel about his possible attraction to her.