Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 133191 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 666(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133191 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 666(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
Conall thought about that. Pure iron was a silver-gray metal, a little more pliable than iron but it was still strong enough to do damage. Thea’s back was evidence of that. Then again, if it was as poisonous to Thea as she said, it wouldn’t matter how strong the iron was. Like silver to a wolf, one touch to the skin would burn.
He blanched, imagining what it would feel like to be whipped by a silver-tipped cat-o’-nine-tails. Fuck, but he was in awe of Thea’s strength.
“So they never knew?”
“Honestly, possibly. But it never came up. Pure iron has less carbon in it, so it isn’t as strong or frequently used as other iron materials. Now there’s more of it. They use what they call commercial pure iron, but it still affects me. It’s what blacksmiths use to make those goddamn decorative railings … but …” She exhaled shakily. “It’s also used in aviation. Pure iron was one of the first things I googled when I got away from Ashforth. There was this page that said commercial pure iron is utilized in aviation.”
Conall was silent as he let this sink in. Did she think … “Thea,” he said, his tone gentle, “most planes are made of aluminium.”
“Aluminum?” She pronounced the u like “ooh” and excluded the last i.
“Aye, that one. But the way I said. The right way,” he teased, trying to coax the taut expression off her face. She couldn’t possibly think she was to blame for her parents’ deaths.
She didn’t smile at his teasing. “But what about all the little parts a plane is made of? There could be commercial pure iron in there somewhere.”
“Enough to make you bring down a plane?” He shook his head. “I dinnae think so, lass. Were you …” He hesitated to take her back to that place, but he felt it was important to assure her. “Did you feel pain or the flu-like symptoms you spoke of when you got on the plane with your parents that day?”
She swallowed so hard, he heard it. “No,” she whispered. “I didn’t know it at the time but what I felt was the feeling I get when I know something bad is going to happen. I get this tingling burn down my neck, my heart races, and a feeling of dread comes over me.”
Conall raised an eyebrow. “And you feel this every time you sense danger?”
“Yeah.”
“But you didn’t feel pain that day?”
“No.”
“Then it stands to reason, Thea, that your instincts knew there was something wrong with that plane. You didnae bring it down. Your instincts were just screaming at you it would go down.”
“But what if my emotions made it worse? I fried Ashforth’s plane, blew the windshield off it before that.”
Conall wished he could pull over so he could look her in the eyes when he said this, so she could see his certainty and sincerity. “Thea, you did not kill your parents. You tried to save them … it’s not your fault they didnae know to listen.”
She was quiet so long he thought he’d upset her. Then, “Sometimes I blame them for that. Because they should have known. They knew me. They knew … I was different. That if I thought something was wrong, they should listen.”
Glad he’d steered her away from self-flagellation, he asked, “When did they realize you were different?”
“As soon as I was born, they knew something was up because of the blood tests. My DNA isn’t entirely human. In fact, it’s no DNA that’s ever been catalogued.”
Conall nodded. “Werewolves too. We wolves use fellow werewolves for doctors and midwives.”
“Smart. But my parents were both human, which makes what I am an even greater mystery. The doctors ran the tests again, and they wanted to keep me at the hospital, but after months of tests that didn’t prove my abnormal DNA equated to health problems, another doctor advised my parents to take me home. And they left town. Mom was making good money with Ashforth so they moved to Westchester to be close to the city. Mom and Dad told me it wasn’t until around a year old they realized I might be special. I began talking in full sentences.”
Conall huffed. “That’s fast.”
“Extremely. And I was strong. Stronger than my dad. And I … I could move things.”
He furrowed his brows, not only at the information but at the trepidation in her voice. “Move things?”
“Without touching them.”
Conall snapped his eyes to hers and she was staring at him warily.
Hell, he wished she wouldn’t do that. Keeping his expression neutral, he said, “I wasnae aware you could do that.”
“I can’t.” She shook her head. “I mean, not anymore. Ashforth doesn’t know about it. It freaked my parents out so much and they were trying to protect me, so they asked me to stop. I did. It’s like the years of disuse put a mental block on it or something. The only time I’ve come close to using it is when I’m emotional.”