Bound to Secrets (5 page)

She swam a few strokes and then ducked under and rubbed at her hair. She hadn’t had shampoo since her mother’s visits, but if she scrubbed hard enough it might come clean.

After five minutes in the chill water, she was shivering. She climbed out, dried herself, pulled on panties, jeans and her favorite pink T-shirt, then sat on a rock to let her hair dry in the sun.

Part of her didn’t want to go back. Right here and now, life was about as good as it had ever been. But once she went back inside, she suspected that would change. Real life would rear its head and she would have to consider the future.

“Keira?”

She glanced up as he called her name.

“The food’s ready.”

She nodded, gathered up her things, and headed back to the keep. Connor handed her a chipped mug of red wine as she came in and she sipped it cautiously. She wasn’t used to alcohol. But the flavor was warm and mellow on her tongue.

Why the hell not?

She downed the contents in one gulp and held out her mug for more.

He raised an eyebrow but refilled it from the bottle.

He’d set up the food on the small table. It smelled fabulous, rich and full of herbs. For a few seconds, she savored the scent, and then she picked up her spoon and started to eat.

And didn’t stop until the bowl was empty.

She sat back and sighed.

Connor had been sitting on the bed, now he got up refilled her bowl, topped up her mug, then took a bowl of his own and sat back down.

By the time she had finished the second helping, she was replete, the wine a warm buzz in her belly and brain. “Thank you.”

He grinned. “My pleasure. There’s cake somewhere.”

“Later.”

She watched as he finished his food rather more delicately than she had done. They were going to have to talk soon, and she still wasn’t certain of how much she could safely tell him. She thought of the copious notes she had made over the years—at least the early ones. Her mother had encouraged her to write down everything she remembered, names, places, happenings. None of it made any sense to her, but the notebooks were all piled up behind a loose rock in the wall of the keep.

They’d thought that if the Agency ever caught up with her, there might be something in there they could use as leverage to keep her alive. But she wouldn’t even know how to separate the useless facts from the important stuff.

No use putting this off any longer.

“Who are you?” she asked.

He placed his bowl on the floor and leaned against the wall, his long legs stretched out in front of him.

“My name is Connor McNair. I am…I was a doctor. Six years ago a werewolf bit me and my life changed forever.”

She heard the bitterness in his voice. “Don’t you like your wolf?”

“What’s to like? He’s a beast, an animal.”

“He stayed with me those nights, looked after me. He didn’t hurt me.”

Connor shrugged. “Anyway, afterward I became part of a pack—”

“Of werewolves?”

“Yes. The pack is run by a man called Sebastian Quinn. He’s the alpha. He also works with a group of other—” he paused as if unsure how to go on and then shrugged again “—other beings. It’s run by a vampire.”

“What?” Was he kidding her? Though she supposed if werewolves were real then why not vampires?

“A year or so ago, Jack—that’s the name of the vampire—infiltrated one of the Agency’s research laboratories and rescued your sister, Tasha.”

“Tasha is telepathic—like me?”

“Maybe not as strong, but yes. She’s also a werewolf—she’d been attacked when she was a teenager and been a prisoner ever since. When she escaped, Tasha discovered there were others like her who had been created by the Agency, and she’s been searching for you ever since.”

She had a sister who was a werewolf and she’d been looking for her? She wasn’t alone in the world. Even though she would probably never meet Tasha, Keira’s heart ached; there was someone out there who cared whether she lived or died.

“Six months ago, they found Anya,” Connor continued. “She’d been working as an assassin for the Agency—they sent her after Sebastian. But she’d started to suspect the Agency weren’t the good guys they’d made themselves out to be. Anyway, she’s with us now. But she was dying—the Agency had done something to her, given her poison, and without the antidote each day, she would die. Sebastian had to change her to save her life. She’s Sebastian’s mate.”

“Mate? As in married?”

“Sort of, I suppose. Tasha and Anya sent you a message.” He reached across and picked up a small tablet computer. “I’m afraid it doesn’t work.”

“No, I have a bad effect on technology. Pretty much like I do on people.”

Something occurred to her. The Agency had done something to her as they had to Anya. She wasn’t sure what, but maybe if Connor turned her into a werewolf then he could save her as well.

“Can you change me?” she asked.

Shock flashed on his face followed closely by rejection. “I could never turn someone else into a monster.”

“You’re no monster.”

“You don’t know what I am or the things I’ve done. I’ll never do that to anyone.”

“Not even to save their life.”

“Are you dying?”

“No.”

She remembered back to the first time she had seen him, and the anger that had rolled off him in waves. The self-hatred. Why did he hate his wolf so much? He’d been beautiful to her.

“Are you really a doctor?” she asked.

“I am. It was all I ever wanted to be.”

“Why?”

“My mother’s a doctor. When I was seven we were in an accident. A train crash. We were unhurt but all around us there were people screaming. My mom stayed so calm and she helped them. I guess it made a big impression on me.”

“Where is she now?”

“She’s in Africa working in a refugee camp.”

“What about your father? Is he a doctor as well?”

Connor shook his head. “He was a Spanish waiter she met on holiday in Malaga.”

So that was where he got the black hair and olive skin. “Did they marry?”

“No, they were too different, but strangely they’ve always been good friends. He runs a tapas bar in London now. I’ll take you there one day.”

Ha, like she would ever get to London. She could imagine the chaos she would cause.

“Enough of me,” he said. “Tell me how you came to be here.”

She might as well start from the beginning. “I was born in one of the Agency’s laboratories down in Devon. My ‘mother’ cared for me for as long as I can remember. She wasn’t really my mother, but she came to love me.”

Keira thought for a moment trying to get the thoughts straight in her head. “I first became telepathic when I was eleven. After that, apart from my mother, I didn’t see many people. I guess they were scared I would read them—there was nothing like this shielding back then. But I grew stronger and after that, I was sedated most of the time.” She paused and drained the last of her wine. “I don’t remember much for about a year. Then they must have decided to do something, maybe try and cut off my powers or put in some sort of trigger so they could switch them on and off. But it went wrong, and I lost all control.”

It had been a horrible time. She’d felt as though her head would explode with all the people around her and all the information flooding in. In the end, they’d sedated her again.

“When I came to, I was here. They’d ordered my ‘termination’, but my mother sneaked me out of there instead. She risked everything for me and I probably killed her.”

“Hey,” Connor said. “Whatever happened to her, I’m sure it wasn’t your fault.”

“She died of brain cancer six months ago. You’re a doctor—can you tell me I didn’t play a part in that?”

She’d thought he would give her some platitude. Instead, he ran a hand through his thick hair.

“I honestly don’t know. But it’s not a forgone conclusion, and even if you did cause it then it’s still not your fault. You didn’t do this to yourself.”

It was a good answer and she wished she could dismiss her guilt so easily. “Why do you hate your wolf?”

His eyes widened at the change of subject and for a second, she thought he wasn’t going to answer. Then he took a deep breath.

“When I first shifted I killed someone.”

She’d presumed it must have been something like that. What could be worse for a man who had dedicated his life to saving people?

“Who?”

Connor stood and paced; immediately her home seemed tiny. Finally, he turned back to face her.

“One of the pack. Sebastian had sent them to watch me the first full moon after the attack. He’d presumed they would be able to control me. I’d refused to join the pack. I wanted nothing to do with them. I guess I was in denial, didn’t really believe it would happen. They were supposed to get me to a safe place— which they did—and contain me—which they didn’t. They couldn’t. I killed one of them and almost killed the second.”

“And you blame yourself?”

“Why the hell wouldn’t I blame myself?”

She gave him a small smile. “Because it’s not your fault. You didn’t do this to yourself.”

He opened his mouth, no doubt to argue, and then snapped it shut again. He paced some more. Finally, he stopped and a wry smile tugged his lips.

“Yeah, we’re a couple of life’s victims.”

Maybe she was, but anyone less like a victim than Connor McNair, she had never seen. He was so big and powerful. He was still pacing, the muscles of his shoulders bunching as he moved. Then he stopped, and stretched, raising his hands above his head, baring a strip of olive skin at his waist. Heat flickered to life inside her and she couldn’t take her eyes from him. Her mouth went dry. She’d never felt like this, restless and confined. As though part of her wanted to move but the rest wanted to stay exactly where she was and fill her eyes with him.

He turned suddenly and caught her staring.

“What?” he asked.

When she didn’t answer, his gaze dropped from her face, to slide over the rest of her. She peered down. Her nipples pressed against the thin cotton of her T-shirt and she fought the urge to wrap her arms around herself, hide from him. She glanced back up; he was watching her, a dull flush across his cheekbones, his dark eyes heavy lidded. Then he shook himself and looked away.

She ran a hand through her hair; it was almost dry now. Usually, when she felt like this, she’d go for a gallop on Dubh, but she reckoned the pony had made himself scarce when Connor had arrived.

“You want to go for a walk?” she asked.

“Walk?”

“You know, that thing you’re doing backwards and forwards right now, but outdoors.”

“Yes.”

Outside, the sun was still shining and she raised her face to the warmth.

“You know,” Connor said. “When I first arrived here, I thought this was the most depressing place I’d been in my entire life.”

“And now?”

“Now… it’s growing on me.”

Maybe he would stay a while.

He took her hand. In her whole life, she couldn’t ever remember walking hand in hand with anyone. His palm was warm and hard against hers and he stroked her hand with his thumb almost absently as they strolled. Tingles shivered through her arm at his touch.

His legs were much longer, but he slowed his pace to match hers and they walked together easily.

“What do you want from life?” he asked.

The question startled her. She’d actually been contemplating how to ask him to kiss her. She’d never really considered what she wanted before. It seemed foolish when her choices were so limited. Why torment herself with what could never be?

Now she made herself think about the answer. What did she really want?

“I don’t want to be alone anymore.” But that wasn’t enough. “I want to feel safe and I don’t want to hurt anyone else.”

He nodded. “I want you to come back with me.”

At his words, she halted, her brows drawing together. “Back where?”

“To London.”

She stared into his face. “How can I go to London? I hurt anyone I get close to. You felt what I did to you. I can’t stop it.”

“Just hear me out. I’d sedate you for the journey. Sebastian is building a room, based on the implant technology. We think when you’re inside, you won’t be able to reach out to anybody. You won’t hurt anybody.”

She chewed on her lower lip forcing down the hope threatening to bubble up and overtake all her good sense. Her mother had told her not to trust anyone, but she’d already trusted Connor with many of her secrets. Could he really make it safe for her to be around people?

“What have you got to lose?” he asked.

Maybe because hope was such a dangerous thing. If she tried this and failed, how would she ever face coming back to this lonely existence?

“And then what?” she asked.

“Then we find out what they did to you and we reverse it.”

“You think that’s possible?”

“I don’t know. I won’t make promises I can’t keep, but there’s a chance, and isn’t it worth the risk? You can’t keep living like this. There will be more rumors and one day the Agency will find you.” He turned so he faced her fully, took her other hand in his, and squeezed gently. “Please come back with me, Keira.”

She searched his face. “Why do you care?”

The question seemed to take him aback. He thought for a moment then shook his head. “I don’t know. All I know is I can’t walk away and leave you here alone and unprotected. For six years, I’ve not cared about anything or anyone. For some reason you’ve brought me back to life.”

“So I’m just one more person to save then?”

“Perhaps we’re supposed to save each other,” he said. “The last couple of days are the first times I’ve woken up and not thought about killing myself.”

She squeezed his hands in return. Maybe he was right. She’d felt his self-hatred, had been drawn to it. Perhaps in helping her, he would also find something redeemable in himself.

“You’re the first person I’ve cared enough about to want to save since I was changed. So if you don’t come, then I reckon I’ll have to move in with you.”

She blinked at his words, determined not to go all soppy. “I’ll come.”

“Good.”

“But, Connor, you won’t let me hurt anyone will you? You’ll stop me any way you have to?”