Love, Lies & Eternal Ties (Whitby Shadows Series Book3)

Chapter Two

I parked up at home, left the key on the inside of the wheel as I said I would, and instead of heading into the house, I decided to go into my apartment. I needed a few minutes to myself before putting on a front for Mum and Hannah.

As soon as I opened the door, every part of me filled with a desperate urgency to turn around and get the hell out of here. Freezing cold air hit me square in the face, my breath misting into a cloud in front of me. I'd turned the heating off because I'd been staying in the house. Damn my practical self.

Nothing about this apartment seemed friendly or like home anymore and it wasn't just the temperature or the darkness looming in the hallway. It felt alien, wrong, unnatural, as if the bricks themselves were screaming at me to leave.

"It's just cold," I said, forcing myself to walk inside.

I flicked the light switch on, illuminating the hallway with bright light, but even then, a heavy, obscure presence still seemed to hang around, using the light as a mask.

The further I walked in, the more my body seemed to react. Goosebumps appeared on my arms, then all along my neck and shoulders. By the time I reached the end of the hallway, a violent shudder ran down my spine.

As the apartment opened out in front of me, I turned to the left-hand wall, switched the heating on, ramping it up to twenty-five degrees, and flipped the main lights on. The boiler kicked in and I debated what to do first—have a long soak in the bath or murder a cup of tea.

"You really should pay more attention to your body, Miss Summers."

I jumped and spun around to see a beautiful redheaded woman sat at my kitchen table. Her piercing blue eyes were completely devoid of any warmth or emotion. She reminded me of a lion with her flat, soulless stare watching her prey, ready to pounce without a shred of mercy. She sat ramrod straight, her hands on the table in front of her, palms down. Glossy loose curls tumbled down to her ample chest, drawing attention to the exquisite rose gold lace dress she wore.

"I've been waiting a number of days for you to come back," she said, her voice cool, casual, but clipped and assertive. "But with an endless life, I have nothing but time."

The penny dropped. Redhead, immortal, and with an interest in me, that meant she could only be Tatiana.

"Tatiana," I said, narrowing my eyes at her. I tried to calm my racing heart by fixing a front that showed nothing but contempt. "What do you want?"

"I was curious," she said, cocking her head to one side. "Of the new love interest in my ex-fiancé's life. I had to see for myself what was so special about you."

I waved a hand over myself. "As you can see, nothing," I replied. "So now you can go."

Her pink lips tweaked into a sadistic smirk. "Oh, quite the contrary. There is definitely something very special about you. I can see why Marcus wanted you in his life."

"Marcus. Yes, let's talk about him, shall we?" I walked towards the table and pulled a chair out, sitting down opposite her. Surprise flickered through her eyes for the briefest of seconds. "I might be wrong, but I think you still love him."

She didn't move a muscle. Her poker face was exceptional. But her eyes gave her away—the smallest hint of uncertainty tinged with sadness filtered through them. "Marcus Davenport is no more my love interest than this table is. He is inconsequential to me."

I smiled. "So inconsequential that you have travelled God knows how far to meet me, and from what I hear, you want to either turn me, or kill me, in front of Marcus. Those are not the actions of someone who doesn't care."