“God.” She gave a short, humorless laugh. “Over the years I came up with a number of wacky explanations of why I was so different, but this was never one of them.”
“You preferred to believe that I was responsible?”
“Yeah.” A faint heat brushed her too pale skin. “I suppose I did.”
“And now?” he prompted.
“Now I don’t know what to think.”
Hardly a rousing vote of confidence. More like a grudging, gun-to-the-temple sort of vote.
“Anna, I would never hurt you. That night…” He bit off his impatient words as he realized that now was not the time.
“What?”
With a smooth motion he rose to his feet and began pacing the cell. Suddenly it seemed way too small. And way too filled with Anna’s sweet, fruity scent.
“There’s more,” he said abruptly. “I think that Morgana was the ‘cousin’ you lived with in London. I believe she burned down your townhouse, killing your aunt and assuming that she killed you as well.”
“No.” She rose to her feet, shaking her head. “That’s not possible. My cousin didn’t look anything like the woman in my dreams.”
“Morgana would be capable of a powerful glamour. She could have altered her appearance so that the human eye would see only what she desired.”
She wrapped her arms around her waist, shivering as if the room were ice cold. “But not a demon?”
“I could have seen through her magic, although she obviously took great care not to allow me to catch sight of her,” he admitted. “You said yourself that first night she had disappeared only moments before I entered the room.”
“That’s true, but…”
Cezar rushed forward as she swayed and nearly pitched face first onto the ground. With a tenderness he didn’t even know he possessed, he was carefully urging her back into the chair.
“Here.” His hands tightened on her shoulders as she struggled to rise. “No, querida, just sit for a minute. Breathe.” He watched as she drew in a shaky breath. “Again.”
In time the greenish tint left her cheeks and she was lifting her head to meet his concerned gaze. “Sorry.”
“For what?”
“For acting like a pansy after my big speech about wanting to be Xena Warrior Princess.”
His hands absently stroked over her shoulders, not at all certain how to ease the shivers that still shook her body.
Dammit. He didn’t like seeing her so shaken. It made him want to…kill something.
Preferably something of the fairy variety.
“I don’t know any Xena, but I suspect that even a warrior princess would be a little shaky in your position,” he murmured.
“You mean, if she discovered she possessed a murderous cousin who tried to burn her to death in her own bed and now is on the hunt for her heart?”
“Anna, I can’t be certain that it was Morgana who burned your house.” His hands tightened on her shoulders. “But I think we should at least consider the possibility.”
“Yes. Yes, you’re right.” She lifted her hands to rub her temples. “I need…I need to think.”
“There will be time for that later.”
“Actually there won’t be.” She lowered her hands and glanced at the watch strapped to her wrist. “I have a flight to L.A. that leaves in less than six hours.”
“No.”