Page 35 of The Fate of Black Hearts

“They do.” This most definitely wasn’t the Ian she remembered. He would never have known, or cared to know, the cost of shoes. He would’ve said they were high heels. She hit the alarm on her watch that would tell Efrem to come and get her, although she expected him to already be lurking in theshadows. “What money I have I acquired on my own, long after Willem left us.”

“You mean after you kicked him out of his household.” He took a deep drag of his cigarette and smirked in a way that sent a chill through her shoulders. “I took it to the Council. They agreed it all belongs to me. You, the money, the estates.”

“They’d never agree to that. I’m older than half the sanctimonious shits on that board, most of whom think I’m dead, or at least think the world better off if everyone thinks I’m dead. I’m older than you.”

“They would agree if I had Willem’s last testament, which gives me the right to assume head of the family.”

“He never gave you that.”

“Seems he did.”

“You faked it?”

“Perhaps.” He shrugged.

“I don’t care what your brother might’ve wanted. I don’t answer to your or the Council. I’d like to see them enforce anything on me after your asshole brother threw me to werewolf hunters to die. He tried to murder his newborn son and unborn child. Later, he did murder one of his own children. I’ve got witnesses to every one of those facts.”

Ian seem surprised, which confirmed this wasn’t him. Even with memory loss, she had no doubt Willem told his older brother everything back then. He’d not forget all of her history.

She said, “You’ve never been a part of my family. If you wanted to participate, you would’ve been with us through the past century.”

“It’smy family.”

Nausea squeezed her stomach at the concept of debasing herself before a male like him again. What was this thing pretending to be Ian? A sniff didn’t pick up the usual werewolf hormonal scents. She detected something sweet, but not vampire-sweet. “Are you ill?”

In a superspeed move, Ian gripped her chin in his hand, tight and bruising. “We’ll make a vicious team. You, the assassin who never misses, and me, the harbinger of darkness.”

What exactly did that mean?

His hold tightened. “You’ll be happy to take me any way I want. You’ll be mine, finally. You never should’ve been given to Willem or the other one who wasted you. I’ll show you what it’s like to belong to someone who can show you power.”

“Hard pass.”The other? Who was he talking about? There hadn’t been…Maybe this was about the mage from hours ago? “Whatother oneare you talking about?”

“What mage?” He lowered his lips until they almost touched hers. If he kissed her, she might vomit. His eyes communicated a type of possessiveness Ian had never shown before.

Ian could read her mind. That wasn’t a lycan ability. Something about his eyes shimmered.

The mage’s warning slithered through her thoughts.

His teeth parted into a horrifying grin. “I found a very interesting parchment. A page two, you might say, to the curse that bound your children to the Crown. An addendum, it turns out. The monarch of England was very interested in activating it, but Ithink I’ll do it for myself. When you become blood-bound to me, you’ll do everything I want.”

Her head went so light she worried she might pass out.

The tattoo on her wrist moved, the one that protected her. None in her family knew of this secret pact between her and this entity. The agreement bestowed angelic protection to her children. It squeezed, warning her of danger.

“Release me.” She sensed Efrem nearby.

“Or you’ll what?”

The tattoo spread across her chest. She detected its heat but didn’t like the thought of anyone knowing this secret about her. A spear of heat spread up her neck to her chin.

With a cry he released her and massaged his hand. “What did that?”

She jerked away from him, shocked as much as him. Had the tattoo struck out at him? It had never done that before.

He backed into the wall. Something about Ian flickered as if he wasn’t what he appeared. Was he a ghost or a reincarnated being of some type? Shaking off his surprise, he moved toward her again.

Efrem cracked Ian in the face with the muzzle of the shotgun. “We’re leaving.”