Page 18 of Blood Stone
Winter swallowed, her pulse leaping, for anger was clear in Nial’s eyes, now. It seemed to leap around him. She focused inwards, intending to soothe her heart and restore inner peace.
“Don’t you dare calm yourself down,” Nial said, his voice low and controlled. “Iwantyour heart racing. I want you angry, defensive andguilty, damn it!”
“Nial, for gods’ sake.” Sebastian uncurled himself from the sofa and stood up, a deep frown drawing a channel between his brows. “What has Winter done?”
Winter licked her lips, staying very still on the dining chair.
Nial studied her. “Why don’t you tell him?” he asked dryly.
“I...I don’t know what you want me to say.” And she didn’t. But she had a feeling that she soon would. Nial had seen four moves ahead of her and somehow, this ugly mess was her fault.
“This Finka Zupan knew you in Serbia and just happened to know about your talent. She moves to the States and suddenly, after twenty years, decides that you’re not dead after all, so she’s going to look you up and make you save her brother.” Nial crossed his arms. “What made her decide that you didn’t die in Serbia, Winter? That was supposed to be a complete cut-off. You assured us it was, that no one could possibly know you survived the bombs and were alive in the States. But Finka did, and she went out of her way to find you.”
Sebastian was studying her now. “I bet she hired an agency to find you, too,” he added. “So now there are records linking Morana in Serbia with Winter in the States.”
Nial nodded. “What’s the connection, Winter? Why did she know you were still alive? Why was she so certain she could pay to find you here in the States when her brother got sick?”
A hot wave of emotions washed over her as Winter put together the answer to Nial’s probing questions. The wash of emotions was a thick mix: horror, disgust, dismay...and guilt.
For Nial was right. This was her fault. Nialhadseen four moves ahead and had anticipated this, as soon as Winter had told them Finka had stopped her on Hollywood Boulevard and used her old name.
Winter closed her eyes. “Oh shit...” she whispered.
“Ah,” Nial said. “You’ve remembered.” He didn’t sound like he was enjoying her humiliation all that much, either.
Winter looked up at him. Nial shook his head. “So you couldn’t resist reaching back, could you?” he said softly.
Sebastian made a low sound, deep in the back of his throat. He sank back onto the sofa. “You went back there,” he said. “Back to Belgrade.”
Winter shook her head. “No! Hell, I’m not that stupid! Even before I met you two, I knew it was critical that everyone in Serbia continue to think I was dead. I’d got away from there clean cold. It was sheer luck. All my family were dead and the rest of the neighbourhood thought I’d died along with them. I would have, except that I can heal myself. The bomb that took out our house landed in the middle of the night and I crept away from the house before sunlight, before anyone started sifting through the rubble. I never went back.”
“But you did reach back there somehow,” Nial said. “You did something that told someone there you were still alive. What?” His tone was still curt, unforgiving.
Winter drew in a breath. She deserved the butt kicking. “Money,” she said. “I sent money.”
“Via anonymous channels?” Sebastian asked. “Because there’s no such thing, not if the amount is big enough. Someone will always be curious enough to dig and find out who the donor really is.”
Winter nodded. “I know that now. At the time I trusted the foundation’s guarantee of privacy. Like I said, it was before I met either of you. I wanted to help the kids.”
“The orphans from the war?” Nial clarified. He drew in a breath, deliberately. “There will always be wars, Winter. And wars always create orphans, widows, corpses and slaves. You have to acknowledge that and learn to deal with just the battle that is in front of you. If you keep reaching back into your former lives, you end up with dire complications like this one you’ve created.”
“I didn’t know it was a former life, back then!” she snapped. “Christ, Nial, I didn’t even know I was immortal, then! Will you stop being so high and mighty for five minutes and cut me some slack? You’ve been doing this for centuries. This is my first time around. So I made a goddam fucking mistake. So sue me! And for your information, wars don’t make slaves anymore. Update your friggin’ information!”
“Of course there are slaves still,” Nial said. His tone was cold. “There are more slaves now than there have ever been in human history. They just aren’t paraded in people’s front parlours as a family asset. If you think wars don’t make slaves, you are naive.”
Sebastian cleared his throat. “Could you two hold off mauling each other until I’ve got the popcorn and root beer? This should be good.”
Nial glared at Sebastian.
Sebastian held up a hand. “Second round should be you and Garrett, Nial. Didn’t he accuse you of exactly the same thing you’re smacking Winter around with right now? Lack of due care and diligence with your serial lives?”
Winter felt her jaw slacken as she turned to Nial.
Nial closed his eyes briefly. “Bastian, you’re a son of a bitch.” But there was no heat in his voice at all.
“And I love you, too, you mangy old Roman,” Sebastian told him.
“Then Garrettdidgive you shit about not taking more care over your identities!” Winter breathed.
