“The knife you gave me,” he muttered, looking down at the now permanent markings on his arm.
“It did this to you?”
“It is this,” he replied. Seeing her confused expression, he tried to find the words to explain. “I used the knife to break through the circle. It began to melt, and it burst into flames. The metal melted and ran up my arm, searing itself into my flesh. It’s a part of me now.”
“Theo,” she breathed out, shaking her head. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be,” he answered. “Look.”
He stepped back and held out his hand. As it had done before in the clearing, when he was facing Nathaniel, he felt the metal sliding and twisting down his arm to pool in his hand, once again forming the knife.
Olivia’s breath caught in her throat as she watched in shock. Theo released his grip on the knife, and it disappeared back into his flesh, leaving the strange writhing tattoo.
“Wow,” she muttered, staring at his hand.
“I know,” he replied.
She was about to say something else, but she paused, hearing raised voices in the other room.
“We’d better go deal with that,” she sighed. “Help me down, will you?”
He lifted her gently, trying not to jolt her wounded shoulder as he slid her carefully to the floor.
“Wait a minute.” He disappeared into the laundry room and returned with one of his shirts, which fitted easily over her sling. He helped her into it and buttoned it over her torn clothes.
“Thanks,” she murmured. Taking his hand, they made their way to the library.
As she walked into the room, everyone fell silent and turned toward her. The fire, as it always did, burst cheerfully into flame at her presence. Her father watched in quiet interest at the dancing flames.
“Olive,” Jake breathed in relief, studying her pale face and dark eyes. “Are you okay?”
She nodded as she surveyed the other people in the room. Jake was flanked either side by Louisa and Mac, who, other than the injury to his hand, seemed no worse for his unexpected initiation into her world.
Her gaze tracked across the room to her father and the pale-haired man next to him, finally landing on Deputy Helga Hanson. She looked different. Not only did she seem slimmer and more feminine but standing next to the man her father referred to as Davis, she could see the startling similarities between the two tall, elegant blonds.
“Helga?” she muttered in confusion.
“Actually, that’s not my name. That was his idea of a joke.” She threw a sidelong glance at Davis. “My name is Danae... Connell.”
“Connell?” Olivia’s eyes widened.
She nodded. “This is my twin brother, Davis,” she introduced him.
“It’s nice to finally have the chance to meet my niece.” He smiled warmly.
“Niece?” she repeated, looking to her father.
“The twins are my younger half brother and sister. We share the same father,” he told her.
“I told you before, Olivia,” Danae spoke softly. “I wasn’t watching you because of that deranged idiot Walcott. I was there to protect you from your mother.”
“You knew.” She looked at all three of them. “You all knew she was alive, and you said nothing.”
“It was complicated, Olivia,” her father replied.
“Then start explaining,” she replied coldly. “I think I deserve that much.”
“The twins found me about eighteen years ago, around the time I started getting hints that Isabel was still alive. Davis and Danae were my link to the outside world, and they helped me to keep an eye on you and search for your mother.”
