Page 247 of Shifting Hearts 1
Adrienne’s face told the story before she spoke. “Don’t—please.”
“Who was she?” Morgan pushed.
“It wasn’t a she,” Cass said finally. “You are the only one.”
“A fucking guy?” Morgan barked. “Who? I want to know.”
“It’s a long time ago,” Cass answered, voice thin.
“I don’t care,” Morgan snapped.
“Fine,” Cass said at last. “Sit down. I’ll tell you once—and never again.”
She spun that soppy story about me like it was a lullaby, how I’d broken her, how Steven “changed” her. She said it had happened fifteen hundred years ago.
She never told Morgan the truth. Not the whole truth. Just the cruel version that painted me as a monster, as some ancient atrocity, and I watched Morgan’s loathing begin to harden into something awful and real.
Cassandra told her I had died long ago; she even explained what I had been, and Morgan laughed at the idea, called it an abomination, until Cass soothed her with assurances that we were real.
Everything Cassandra said was a lie by omission. When had Morgan learned that I was still alive? When had she decided she would hunt me down and incinerate me on sight? How did the truth finally reach her ears?
EIGHT
JASON
Morgan had found out I was still alive because of Steven, confessing through the very walls that were supposed to keep sound out.
She hadn’t been afraid to confront Cass; that much became obvious the moment she strode into the room.
“Tell me the truth,” she demanded, and I loved the sound of her anger, aimed at the right target for once.
She slammed Steven against the wall when Cassandra lied to her again, and the air around her flared. Flame licked up the plaster like a living thing. I watched cowardice and memory war in his eyes: fear for what stood before him, and something older, guilt for the life he used to know and the warnings he’d once offered me, whispering that rumors said she’d found me.
Morgan seemed to exist in two places at once, part furious hunter, part frightened girl. Steven swallowed and finally spoke, his voice thin. He told the truth and begged her to lower the fire.
“Where is he?” she snarled.
“Steven, don’t,” Cass shouted, but Morgan ignored her.
“Where is he, Steven?”
“I’m not telling you,” he snapped back, voice cracking. “You can kill me for all I care. Just remember Natasha. It was me who gave you immortality.”
“Steven—” Cass roared, but the flames stuttered and then drew in as if someone had exhaled. Natasha’s fire dimmed; for a long second Morgan looked like a different person—eyes clearing, the blaze in her dwindling. She glared at Cass and, without rancor now, said only, “Steven changed me?”
He murmured an apology that sounded more like a prayer.
I was surprised Cass had finally told the truth about one small thing. She looked at Morgan and her voice softened. “I was afraid I wouldn’t stop. You’re so powerful, my bird. Please forgive me. Steven made me what I am too. We are equals, just as it should be.”
“Then tell me where he is, Cass,” Morgan snapped. “He needs to pay for what he did to you.”
“I don’t know where he is,” Cass said honestly, and for once I believed her. “That’s the truth. Steven knows more.”
She sounded implausible, and Morgan’s patience thinned. “Tell me, please.” Hatred dripped from her words and I could see the panic cross Cass’s face when Morgan wasn’t looking, she was afraid of that fire, too.
“I told you before,” Steven said, voice hardening. “Kill me if you must. I’m not telling you.”
Morgan grunted. “Fine. I’ll find him myself.”
