“Can I ask…why are you here?” she asked. Her eyes met his again, searching and increasingly familiar.
Then an arm slid into his like a lover. Trish’s fingers dug in just enough to warn and he dropped his hand as if burned.
“Fuck off,” she said to Theodora with a too-sweet smile.
There was venom in her voice as Theodora seemed to shrivel before his eyes.
The woman flinched and backed away without a word.
Thane had to bite the inside of his cheek not to push Trish’s arm off.
“Why did you have to do that?” he asked, voice low and even.
“Because while you’re fucking me, princess, you don’t look at other women,” she said coolly.
Then she smirked. “You like her, don’t you? All that blonde hair. Blue eyes. Reminds you of an ex?”
She leaned in, her voice sliding into a whisper meant to wound. “Don’t look too closely, love. She might not be here next time you visit. She’s got a job to look after the merchandise, but if she fucks up…” She shrugged. “Well. Let’s just say the men get a turn.”
Thane said nothing.
They turned to walk away, her possessive grip still on his arm.
But his mind was still back there, with the wide, frightened eyes of Theodora.
Chapter 20
The drive back to base seemed endless. They took his blindfold off after a while. A morose drizzle painted the car windows and the trees swayed to the tune of the wind. A storm was coming. Trish had insisted on the blindfold part of the way and Thane had complied, knowing that it didn’t matter—Lirian already had all the coordinates. Thane didn’t speak the entire ride back, and neither did Trish, though she kept cutting glances at him—quiet, thoughtful ones that made his hair stand at end. The silence between them felt brittle, like an ancient bridge just waiting for the right amount of pressure.
He kept his eyes on the passing scenery, but his thoughts dragged elsewhere.
She must have been vulnerable once. Trish’s body was a weapon now, yes, but also a temptation. Slick heat, breathless groans, nails holding him to her, fingers clenching like she needed him. She always came fast and hard, like it was candy which could be snatched away, not pleasure. And he’d taken her, used her for what it was. A job. A means to an end.
So, why did he feel like he needed to peel his skin off?
Because every time afterward he felt that hollow echo. That creeping unease when he looked at her face and found nothing behind the eyes.
What happened to you?he wondered, casting Trish a side glance she didn’t catch.
What makes a woman this beautiful so goddamn empty inside?
Something in her past had carved her up and left only calculation and malice behind. The cruel little smiles. The deadpan expression. The unblinking stares when pain filled a room.
She made his skin crawl now, not from lust but from recognition. He was more like her than he wanted to admit.
Ever since the warehouse—no, since before, when he first laid eyes on her—his mind kept turning to someone else entirely.
Theodora.
It couldn’t be her, could it? No, it was just…the ghost of her. The idea of someone he thought had burned to ash two decades ago.
Blonde hair. Blue, haunted eyes.
He hadn’t consciously thought of the girl he left behind in months, though she still haunted his dreams. But every time he saw pale gold hair or heard a voice too steady for its years, she rose again like a phantom limb.
His fingers dug into the side of his thigh as he worked to keep his gaze on the passing countryside.
It had been twenty years. Even if she’d somehow survived the fire, she wouldn’t have survived the aftermath. Not in this world, not in this trade.
