“You’re not a warlock, Elijah. Warlocks and witches can only draw power from the things around them. Earth, trees, flowers, animals, people. In order to cast spells, they have to sacrifice something in nature—draw the energy out of it to use elsewhere. You don’t need to do that.”
“I know,” he bit out. “I’m more powerful than most.”
“No, it’s not possible for a human with magical abilities to do that. Moreover, witches and warlocks aren’t strong like you. They’d need to cast a powerful spell for that kind of strength, and even then, it would wear off. You’ve never been sick a day in your life, have you?”
He was weakening, his color turning alarmingly pale and pasty. “Where … where are you leading with this?”
“You’re immortal, Elijah.”
He gave a guffaw of feeble laughter.
“I’m not kidding.” Fear scored through Echo. The iron had a much greater effect on fae than she could ever have imagined. She didn’t like it. She was essentially torturing him. “Elijah, if I uncuff you, will you promise to stay and listen to what I have to say?”
His eyes rolled in his head. “Fuck you,” he whispered angrily.
Echo’s will was crumbling, the control she was so well known for disappearing. She hated seeing him like this. Worse, that she was the reason.
Odette. Think of Odette.
Thinking fast, Echo turned the bedcovers, ripped strips from the sheet, and wrapped them around where the cuffs rested against Elijah’s skin. Tears of self-directed rage filled her eyeswhen she saw the burn scars on his wrists. Those wouldn’t fade. She’d scarred him for life.
The fae groaned in agony as she worked to create a barrier between the iron and his flesh. If she’d known, she would have padded the cuffs so that he was merely weakened.
Once she’d wrapped as much fabric around them as she could, Echo retreated and found Elijah watching her with more focus.
“It doesn’t hurt nearly as much anymore,” he said quietly. “But I still feel as weak as a lamb.”
“I apologize,” Echo replied stiffly. “I didn’t realize how badly the iron would affect you.”
“Iron?”
“Elijah … you’re not a warlock. You’re an immortal fae.”
Silence filled the room as he stared blankly at her.
Then, “Are you high on something?”
Angry, she leaned over him. “This isn’t a joke.”
“You’re right,” he snarled. “Being held captive in a hotel room by a psychotic fan is no joke.”
“Get over yourself and pay attention. Do you know anything about the fae or Faerie?”
“Fairy?” He raised his eyebrows. “You believe in fairies?”
“Faerie. As in the place. As in there are countless multidimensions, and one of them definitely exists called Faerie where immortal, all-powerful beings reside. And two thousand years ago, the gate between our dimension and Faerie came down, allowing the fae to move freely in our world and us in theirs. Unfortunately, mating between species caused an evolution of humans into vampires and werewolves. Is any of this ringing a bell?”
Elijah stared aghast. “You believe in the origin stories?”
Relieved, she nodded. “You’ve heard of them. Good.”
“I’ve heard bits and pieces. I don’t know much,” he said wearily. “Just that some … some supernaturals believe vampires and werewolves were born from this supposed mix of fae and human.”
“It’s all true, Elijah.”
He scoffed. “You really are crazy.”
“I’m not crazy. The stories of Faerie are true. Do you know of the true-mate bond?”
