“Everyone knows that only works for other preternaturals,” Jack interjected.
“But technically he is one, he’s a healer,” Tess deduced. “It just never manifested in your dad.”
Will nodded, tugging his t-shirt as sweat began to prickle his upper lip. “What’s that got to do with—”
Will felt his head snap back and Jack’s voice sounded muted as a fist connected with his jaw just seconds before another strike followed, driving him into the wall, where the only thing he could do was raise his arms to shield himself while Conrad lashed out verbally, each word punctuated with another crippling blow that stole the breath from his lungs and sent swarms of darkness across his vision. Blood poured from his nose, each twisted expression of pain causing his swollen lip to split further. The devastating blows kept coming, pummelling his torso and the arms he barely managed to raise to shield himself. The agony of every strike jolted through his body and he continued to scream even when the pressure abated. With his legs too weak to hold him, he slid down the wall as the pressure pinning him there abated and, through his defensively raised arms, he saw Tess and Jack wrestling Conrad away, his eyes maddened with vicious hatred, the like of which he had never seen before.
“Conrad, what the hell?” demanded Tess, the strain in her voice revealing the effort it was taking to restrain him. Will knew the only reason they were succeeding was because he didn’t want to hurt them. With punches that powerful, the two of them would have no chance of restraining him, not unless part of him let them. Perhaps he was even finding a measure of control through their touch.
“He’s Liam. William healed her in the park,” Conrad spat, his eyes narrowing. “That’s why the scars are so prominent, why he’s never bitten her. So what, you were Tapped-out, your energy waning, and you thought you’d just have a taste?” Conrad growled, shrugging himself free of Tess and Jack as they stood staring at him in disbelief.
“Yes,” he admitted, cradling his midriff. “But if I hadn’t, she would not have survived. Luckily, her blood gave me a boost, enough to finish healing her.”
“That’s why there was no blood when I found her,” Tess commented, her disgust clearly evident. From the weight of their repulsed looks, he had to wonder just how much they knew, how much Ashley had dared to tell them. He tried to move, pain splintering through him despite his own energy already working to repair the damage.
“The thing was, I’d been so exhausted, and then her blood… it rejuvenated me and I never remember feeling so powerful.”
“So you went back for more.” The fire in Conrad’s eyes scared him and sweat—or perhaps it was blood—trickled down his face as waves of heat washed over him. There was no doubt in his mind, the only reason he was still alive was because Tess had positioned herself between them, her dainty hand and manicured nails pressed firmly against Conrad’s chest. “You used your friendship to manipulate her, some kind of glamour to make sure she didn’t know who the hell you were. You terrorised her in her own home, threatened her friends, and—”
“I’m not proud of it. I was desperate. You don’t understand. Devon said if I fell short again, Gran would have an accident, just to remind me how seriously I should be taking my debt. He’d already had me steal data from the faculty office to make up a minor shortfall. I couldn’t take the chance. I used a glamour charm, my letting name, and implied I was a vampire. I knew her blood would help me get my count back up and I could let again.”
Conrad, whose expression had turned smouldering, clenched his fists, clearly using every ounce of restraint to control himself.
“Who did you tell?” Conrad growled. His fist connected with the kitchen door frame with a splintering crack. Tess jumped, retreating backwards a step. For a second, Will was just relieved he hadn’t been its target.
“No one, I swear.”
“So how did someone find out about her?” Tess pressed, as Conrad turned his back to them. Will could see his shoulders heaving, hear the slow, deep breaths. He was furious, and the subtle change in his aura suggested he was fighting hard not to shift. It was at that exact moment that Will realised exactly how much Conrad had been holding back. He was on the verge of change, his anger and distress so extreme that whatever lived inside him was clawing for release, hungry for the blood of the one causing such internal disharmony. He released a shaky breath, wondering if any of his friends knew Conrad’s secret. He was preternatural. What exactly, he couldn’t be sure, but given what he was seeing, a shifter of some kind seemed likely. No, not a shifter, some manner of fire elemental.
“I went to the Taphouse a few nights back. My purity was seventy-four, I’m normally a sixty, turns out that caught a few people’s attention,” Will explained, his voice lacking any strength, as he stared at Conrad’s back.
“Her blood made yours purer?” Jack questioned stiffly. “She made you feel more powerful, rejuvenated you, and we know she can also reverse unwanted transitions, which was maybe what protected her from being changed after the attack… Oh shit.” Jack snatched his bag from the sofa, his hand grabbing something Will couldn’t quite see from within. “Shit, shit, shit,” Jack repeated before he dared to interrupt him.
“What?”
In response, Jack opened his sketch book, flicking through the pages before throwing it on the coffee table. Trying to see what was so
