Fire. The one thing that could scare a strong witch. Grim had known exactly what he was doing. Separate. Yank Dee away from the friends who could help her.
Grim could have gotten the Ignitor to attack Dee at any time. But, no, he’d waited until Dee sought shelter with Catalina.
He’d sent his other goons with fire the first time. But the second time, he hadn’t been playing. Grim had brought out the big guns. Ignitor.
Burned around her.
One down. Grim was working his twisted magic.
Dee stepped away from him and crept close to Catalina. She pushed a hand through her short hair and stared in silence for a moment. “I understand.”
No pleas to stay. No guilt trips that they could use the witch’s magic.
Dee’s arms wrapped around the other woman. “Just be safe.”
He caught a glimpse of Catalina’s face. Simon saw the tear that leaked down her cheek. Her arms clamped tight around Dee. “You, too.”
Friends.
But Catalina was still walking away.
And Dee was trying to force the demon to leave her side.
Friends.
She wanted them safe and being safe meant that she didn’t want them anywhere near Grim.
Catalina eased back and swiped her hand over her cheek.
Then she walked away. The door shut behind her with the softest of clicks.
Dee’s shoulders straightened. “You want to tell me…” she began slowly, then glanced back at him, “why I had a vision of you, dying, in some freaking blizzard right before I stormed in here?”
He blinked. How had she—
She rubbed her eyes. “Damn, Simon, that was bad. One minute, I was talking to Zane—idiot won’t listen to me. The next, all I could see was you and you were—”
“It wasn’t me.” He could give her that much, at least. It had to be their blood link. Grim was trying to tune back to him, but Dee was slipping inside his mind, without even trying.
Her body turned fully toward him. Her gaze dipped over his chest and she crossed to him. “Uh, yeah, it was.” She walked behind him. Her fingers trailed down his back and Simon stiffened at the light touch. “What they did to you—”
“Not to me,” he said again, his breath sucking in. Her scent always got to him. Sensual and rich.
“I saw you.”
Because she’d been in his mind, and the images had taken hold of his consciousness and hadn’t let go. “Grim.” Her palms pressed into his back, seeming to burn his flesh even through the T-shirt. “What you saw—it was him.”
Her breath feathered over his flesh. Warm. His eyes closed. She lifted the back of the shirt and her lips pressed into his skin.
Simon swallowed. “They called it the blood eagle.”
Her fingers slipped down the skin of his back and he knew she’d remember the image from the dream. Vision. Whatever the hell it had been.
Torn, broken, ribs spread to look like an eagle’s wings. “An old Viking torture.” One he knew had been used on Grim. Their link had shown him that before.
Her lips rose and he missed the touch of her mouth. “Why?”
Glancing over his shoulder, he met her stare. “Not all monsters are born, Dee, some are made.” Once upon a time, a very long-ass time ago, Grim hadn’t been the sick twisted bastard of today. He’d just been a man. One who’d been broken. Savaged.
“If the stories are true,” Simon said, watching her carefully, “the first thing he did on rising was to find every man who’d participated in his torture, and he ripped them apart.”
Her gaze held his. “Revenge.” The same thing she sought.
He gave a nod. “There’s a price, you know.” Why hadn’t he realized how heavy the price would be for her? Why had he only thought of himself? Of the way he wanted his life to be?
He’d pulled Dee into this war, yanked her into the blood.
“I’ve always known there was a price.” A mirthless smile tilted her lips. “Why do you think I put a kill order on myself?”
His hands knotted at that. No way. No damn way would that demon Zane ever come at her with death in his eyes.
“I’ve seen death for the last sixteen years,” Dee said. “I’ve always known I was living on borrowed time.”
Not borrowed.
“What I don’t understand is why me?” Pain there, breaking beneath the surface. “Why the hell am I one of the Born? I’m nobody. Nobody. I was a freaking clueless kid when the vamps came after my family. I wasn’t special. I’m not special.”
He caught her hands. Held her tight. “You’re the strongest woman I’ve ever met.” True. He’d never seen her back down. A fighter, straight to the soul.
Her gaze fell. “When I was a kid, my family used to go to church together every Sunday.”
He waited. Dee’s life, before the nightmares.
Her stare didn’t meet his. “A lot of people think God cursed vampires. Cursed the Borns and they spread the virus—”
Was that what people were calling it these days? A virus?
“—like a plague. That’s why the holy water works on vampires.”
Yeah, he’d been burned by that once. Holy water and vamps didn’t mix—that one wasn’t a myth.
“So what did I do, Simon, that would have condemned me at fifteen?” Her eyes rose. “What did I do that was so bad, I was cursed, too? I lost my whole family—what did I do?”
Nothing. His fingers tightened around hers. “I don’t know why you’re a Born.” He’d chosen this path. For her, fate had chosen. “I know the stories, too. That the first Born committed a betrayal, that all vamps were punished for his crimes.” He shook his head. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Nothing, got me?”
Her face was as blank as a doll’s. “But I’ll still wind up like Grim, won’t I?”
“No! You’ll never be like him.”
She flashed a bitter smile. “I think I already am.” A pause. Then, quietly, “And deep down, so do you.”
No. “Dee, I—”
“Fuck!” A snarl from outside. “Dee!” Zane’s voice. His fist thudded against the door. Half a second later, the door came crashing open. “She’s gone.” His chest heaved and his eyes glinted back.
Dee nodded. “I know. I told Catalina that—”
“Not her!” He shook his head and snarled, “We both knew the witch would cut and run. Cat can’t handle fire. That shit just brought up too many bad memories for her and she’s too afraid of burning.” He slammed a hand against the door frame. “Nina’s bolted.”