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He nodded very slowly.
Maeve continued. “I crossed to the platform and climbed the steps. One of the witches gave me the ceremonial knife.” She gestured in front of her as though she could see the past as clearly as she could the present. She shifted her gaze to meet his. “But the poison was designed not to penetrate to the organs. Do you understand what that means? The death is slow, beyond any kind of agony you and I can imagine. The same poison eats through the muscle all the way to the bone, but it’s not life-threatening until hours have passed and it bleeds into the bone, then the blood supply.”
He looked at his now healed arm. He’d felt the burning chewing up his muscles as well. He rubbed his arm, trying to make the memory go away. “But why did you do this to me?”
“I needed you to have a frame of reference for what happened that night.”
He knew the rest of what she’d done. She’d told him. He’d helped her recover her memory.
But there was something else he wasn’t seeing.
His gaze dropped to her hands. “You said the witch gave you a blade?”
A terrible vibration passed through him as he finally understood what she was trying to tell him. “You were the witch who killed my wife.”
More tears flowed down Maeve’s cheeks. Her skin was white as porcelain. “Laura was screaming and I could smell her burning flesh. Veyda said she planned to take Laura to the pyre and burn her slowly if I didn’t do it. I knew she would follow through on her threat. I couldn’t let her continue to torture the woman strapped down on the killing table. That’s all I knew. I couldn’t let the poison continue to eat away at her flesh causing more pain than either you or I could ever comprehend.”
Maeve shook her head back and forth. “Laura was so brave. So grateful. I had the knife in my hand. I lifted both hands high overhead, the way Veyda was positioned above Kiara’s when we entered the killing room. Only there was no one to rescue Laura. There was just me with the chance to save her hours of agony. I didn’t want to do it, Braden. But I could see through to the bones of her thighs and her pelvis, her ribs. There was blood everywhere. Her muscles were being liquified. That’s why I gave you a taste of it. I needed you to know why I took Laura’s life.”
He now had the clearest possible picture of the night his wife had died. He had the murderess in his sights. He’d been hunting for Maeve all this time, the woman who had wielded the blade that drove the last bit of life from Laura’s body.
As he watched her blow her nose, he shook his head. What horrible twist of fate had caused this thing to happen that he’d fallen in love with her?
The night he’d discovered Laura had died, he’d made himself a simple promise. He would have vengeance for those responsible for her death.
He moved swiftly, before she could do anything. He slid one arm around her waist and with his free hand, he caught her throat with his fingers. Fur sprouted, wolf claws formed. He sunk them in. She was bleeding at her throat before he’d formed the thought to take his revenge.
Braden. Just do it. End this torment for me. You have a right exact my life for hers.
The last thing he’d expected was for her to acquiesce to his judgment.
He eased up on his stranglehold. She coughed and sputtered, though he didn’t release her entirely.
She burst into tears again, but her voice was once more in his head. She was so good and kind. Afterward, she stayed in her spirit form and led me to safety, to Kiara. Why would she do that? I was part of the whole thing.
“What do you mean? Explain.”
She coughed a few more times then spoke aloud. “I was still drugged and exhausted from firing my killing power that night. The room was in flames. All the witches were gone. I didn’t know where I was or how to get out of there.
“Laura came to me in her ghost form and led me by the hand from the house. Veyda would have killed me otherwise. She took me to Kiara’s. I didn’t remember any of this until about a half hour ago. Braden, I wish I was dead. Why did this have to happen? To me? To her? To any of us? Oh, God, I wish I was dead.”
Braden felt a numbness invade his heart. Everything he’d just heard and experienced had forced him to relive Laura’s death all over again.
He did the only sensible thing he could think of. He took her in his arms and held her. He’d hurt her and he could feel the wet of her blood on his neck and throat. In his pain, in his rage, he’d hurt her.
Gone, however, was the tenderness he’d once felt for Maeve. She couldn’t relax against him either. She felt stiff in his arms and he sensed her feelings of worthlessness because she’d been Veyda’s instrument that night. She’d killed three women and one of them had been the kindest soul Braden had ever known. So kind, she’d returned in spirit form to lead Maeve to safety.
How much that sounded like the wife of his heart, the woman he’d shared his life with before and after the alter transformation had ruined their human plans and dreams.
Eventually, he released Maeve. She stepped away then sank down to sit in a chair near the sink. It backed up to the wall.
He had to leave her now. He was more grateful than he could say that he hadn’t bonded with her. Maeve didn’t deserve death for her part in his wife’s murder, but he couldn’t stay with her either.
He levitated slowly up the stairs. He still had his hotel room. He thought it might be best to head there now, get some distance.
Yet as he used his warlock-senses and crossed the protective spell into the broad hallway, there was one thing he wanted to do before he left.
He headed to the right and down the hall that led to the Landing’s emergency services, the place he’d been brought while close to death.
