“Destroyed how?” She cupped her hand above her eyes to block the sun so she could see his face in the bright sunlight.
“All immortals have an Achilles heel. With many, like the elves and shifters, a simple beheading with any weapon is enough. Vampires have to be burned. Poisons specific to species are fatal as well, like that poor woman in my building. But all of them, including Slayers, are subject to death from a sword of elven ore. Some species require a full decapitation, while others will die from a wound from such a weapon.”
“Like Nik’s sword.”
“Yes. There are a limited number of them, thanks to Fydor. He imprisoned a light elf named Aksel, the only craftsman who could forge the swords. He locked him away centuries ago in some unknown location, in order to halt their manufacture. It wasn’t until recently that I realized the significance. The fewer swords there are, the better Fydor’s chances of survival. He had been planning this war for a long time—centuries before his brother died.”
She strolled along the beach, trying to organize this new information in some kind of cohesive fashion. A week ago, she was studying blood cells through a microscope and analyzing blood anomalies. Wars, swords, and imprisonments weren’t even on her radar, now she was supposed to be some Uniter person who could end wars. There had to be a punch line to this, but sadly, she doubted there was. “What about you, Stefan? What’s your Achilles heel?”
A strange look crossed his face, and then was replaced by a slight smile. “I have none. I cannot be killed by any hand but my own.”
She finished off her drink, studying his perfect face over the rim. “I guess that makes you your own worst enemy.”
“Aren’t we all?” Stefan’s phone rang. “Excuse me,” He turned away from her and answered. It sounded like a business call because he asked about the authenticity of something and then told the person on the other end to buy it regardless of cost.
Must be nice, Elena thought. She had struggled for years just to make ends meet. Now she was hobnobbing with Mr. Buy-A-Plane. She pulled some hair that had blown across her face out of her eyes and sighed. It was an overwhelming concept to wrap her head around that this man had unlimited funds and would live literally forever if he wished it.
His phone rang again. “Yes?” he answered. His eyes met Elena’s. “I will bring her now. Thank you.”
He took her hand, and she braced for the low level current she always felt with his contact. Instead, she felt nothing but his smooth, warm hand. He gasped and immediately withdrew. Then, he smiled. “Well, well, well. You are full of all manner of surprises.”
“What?”
“You shocked me electrically when we touched. It’s supposed to be the other way around. It’s new, and honestly, a bit troubling.”
Aw, crap. She didn’t need any more troubling things in her life. “Why?”
He gestured toward the house. “I’ll tell you over dinner.”
“Tell me now. I’m not hungry.” Which was troubling, too, because it was probably her true vampire nature kicking in. A lifetime of a blood-only diet would suck. Literally.
“You are hungry. You’re simply depressed, which suppresses your appetite.”
“I’m not depressed.” Freaked out, yes.
“Of course you are. You have been separated from something you cannot live without.” He struck out through the powdery sand ahead of her. She remained rooted in place for a moment while she reconstructed his words in her head.
“Wait a minute!”
He didn’t even slow his pace.
“Hey, what can I not live without?”
Still striding on ahead, he didn’t respond. The jerk. Glaring at his retreating form, she imagined herself standing right in front of him and just like that, she was there.
He stopped short of walking right into her, a surprised look on his face. Yeah, she could get used to this superpower stuff. “Stop screwing around with me, Stefan. Say what you mean, or just shut up.”
His eyes narrowed. “You know exactly what I’m talking about, or you wouldn’t be so agitated. You’ve both had adequate time to come to terms with what is facing you. It’s time for you and the Slayer to put your petty differences aside and accept fate.”
“I don’t believe in fate.”
“What a splendid luxury.” He threw his arms up, exasperation in his tone. “What would I not give to be in your shoes? To have my perfect mate only a phone call away. To be able to hold her in my arms without it being a death sentence for us both!” His voice cracked on the last word.
Stunned, Elena watched him stride away. His phone rang as he climbed the porch stairs, but he didn’t answer it. It stopped ringing as he disappeared inside the house.
He was wrong. She could live without Nikolai. She missed him, yes. But she didn’t need him—anymore than he needed her. Yeah, just keep telling yourself that, moron. She took a deep breath and climbed the steps to the house.