“What?” James looked at her blankly. “Are you trying to tell me you had an affair with your own stepfather?”
“No, James,” she said evenly. “I’m trying to tell you he raped me. Repeatedly. That was why when I left home for college I never went back. It’s the reason I cut my own mother out of my life—because she wouldn’t believe me.”
“Well, I mean…” James cleared his throat. “You have to admit, darling, it is a rather a lot to swallow.”
Elise couldn’t believe her ears. “What? Are you seriously saying you don’t believe me either? You think I’d lie about something like that?”
“Not lie, exactly.” James shifted uncomfortably. “But, well, Charles has told me all about what am imaginative child you were. Don’t you think it’s possible that you were so upset about your dog that you might have, I don’t know, made something up in your head to explain why you were feeling so badly?”
“Made something up in my head?” Elise’s disbelief was quickly turning to rage, but she made an effort to keep her temper and speak calmly. “You and Charles seem to be awfully close all of a sudden,” she said evenly. “Care to tell me why he’s been sharing so much personal information with you?”
“Well, honestly, we’ve been in touch for some time—I researched his company back when I was doing my background check on you, darling. I contacted him and we ended up really hitting it off, as you say.” James spoke as though it was no big deal for him to have a hidden friendship with her horrible stepfather.
“Is that right?” Elise’s voice came out rather strangled now but James didn’t seem to notice.
“Yes, that’s right.” He nodded. “I wanted to know more about you before I made any sort of commitment and Charles was kind enough to share information with me. He told me there had been some bad blood between the two of you and how badly he wanted to be part of your life again.”
“Part of my life?” Elise shivered, overcome with revulsion at the thought of having any kind of relationship with Charles but James didn’t notice.
“Of course,” he went on. “Charles feels awful about your dog—the poor man has never forgiven himself, really. He’s especially keen to get to know you as an adult and he thought it might be possible now that you’ve ‘grown out of your awkward adolescence and blossomed into such a lovely young lady,’ as he puts it.”
“Blossomed? What the hell are you talking about? How would Charles know what I look like before seeing me again today?” Elise demanded. The short hairs at the nape of her neck prickled with apprehension. Had James actually been spying on her for her stepfather? Please God, no…
“Why, because I’ve been sending him pictures of you—at his request, of course.” James beamed as though he’d done her a favor. “Just little candid day to day shots, you know, the ones I take on my phone. He loves them—says they make him feel ever so much closer to you.”
Elise’s stomach rolled and she thought for a moment that she might throw up. She pushed down the urge with difficulty. “And that didn’t seem at all creepy to you?” she demanded. “That my stepfather, who I haven’t spoken to in over ten years, would ask you to send him pictures of me?”
“Darling, please!” James laughed. “You act like he’s obsessed with you or something, when the truth is, he just wants to reconnect.”
“I don’t think so,” Elise snapped. “Look, James, I’ve heard enough. I wanted to find a nice way to say this, but I don’t know how, so I’ll just say it—the wedding is off.”
“What?” He looked genuinely startled. “What do you mean?”
“Exactly what I said.” Elise ran a hand through her hair. “I’m sorry, but I just don’t feel the same way about you. Especially after hearing what’s been going on between you and Charles behind my back.”
“Behind your back? Darling, I’ve been trying to repair the rift in your family.” James looked at her reproachfully. “If anything, I’d think you would be grateful.”
Elise raised an eyebrow at him. “Grateful that you’ve been spying on me and sending pictures of me to the man who raped me? Seriously, James?”
He glared at her. “Will you please stop making such ugly accusations?”
“They may be ugly, but they’re true.” Elise lifted her chin. “I ran away from the truth for a long time. While I was gone, though, Merrick helped me face it. I’m not going to run any more and I’m certainly not going to pretend it never happened just to please you.”
His face darkened. “It all comes back to that Kindred bastard, doesn’t it? Why don’t you just admit it, Elise—you’ve got some kind of misguided feelings for the big brute, don’t you?”
“I loved him with everything that was in me.” Elise felt like her heart might crack and shatter into a thousand pieces at the admission, but somehow she held it together. “And do you know why I loved him, James? Because he cared about me. Cared enough to ask the hard questions about my past and to believe the answers, even though they were ugly.”
“But you can’t back out of the wedding now!” James protested, ignoring her words about Merrick. “If you do—”
“If I do, what?” Elise demanded. “Go on, tell me what’s at stake besides your pride, James.”
He glowered at her. “If you do, the merger between my company and your stepfather’s will fall through.”
“What?” Elise demanded, her voice rising. “What are you talking about?”
“Keep your voice down!” he hissed. “I’m talking about that fact that Charles has told me repeatedly that he couldn’t trust his company to anyone but the man taking care of his little girl. So as soon as we’re married, the merger will go through. All the paperwork is done—it’s just waiting for final signatures.”
“I am not his little girl,” Elise said in a low, shaking voice. “But thank you for the explanation—now I understand.”
“I’m so glad to hear it, darling.” James beamed at her, clearly misunderstanding her meaning. With a fond smile, he took both her hands in his and kissed them. “Now you see that Charles and I both have your best interests at heart. And he’s not such a bad fellow—why, he even bought us a house right beside his and your mother’s so we can spend plenty of time together after the wedding. Wasn’t that lovely of him?” He laughed. “I imagine it will come rather in handy once the children come along and want to spend time with their grandparents.”
A whole host of images raced through Elise’s brain. Being forced to live right next to the awful house where Charles had raped her. Being haunted by the ghost of her past trauma every day, especially when he and her mother came to visit, as they certainly would. But worst of all, exposing her own children to the monster next door, fearing every moment for their safety, knowing that Charles was close enough to hurt them the way he’d hurt her…
At last her stomach rebelled—this time she couldn’t stop the wave of nausea that washed over her. Yanking her hands away from James, she ran to the sink just in time to throw up.
Luckily, there wasn’t much to come up—she’d barely eaten since she returned to the Mother ship, despite Olivia’s coaxing. Still, it left a sour taste in her mouth and she heaved miserably every time she though again of the “living arrangements” James and Charles had planned for her.
At last, the retching stopped. Reaching out, she fumbled for the cold water tap and rinsed out her mouth. Then she splashed a handful in her face for good measure. God, she had to get hold of herself! She blotted her face on a paper towel and took a deep breath.
“Darling?” James put a hand on her shoulder. “Are you quite all right?”
“No.” Elise pushed his hand away and turned to face him. “I’m not. And I’m not going to be until I get the hell away from you.”
James looked bewildered. “Me? But what…why…?”
“You still don’t get it, do you, James?” She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. “Once upon a time, I thought I loved you. And even when I decided to call off
the wedding, I felt bad for you. But no more. You’re the same as my mother—Charles bought and paid for you a long time ago and you’ve been in his back pocket ever since.”
“What…what are you talking about?” James sputtered.
“You heard me.” Elise pushed away from him. “I know what Charles’s company is valued at—merging with him will more than double your net worth. And that’s all you care about.” She pointed a shaking finger at him. “Well I’m not selling my soul just so you can see your name at the top of the Fortune 500 list. I’m leaving now and I never want to see you again.”
James’ face went from shocked white to angry red in a second. “You’re acting like a spoiled child, Elise. And anyway, you can’t get out of the wedding that easily—you signed a prenuptial agreement—remember?”
Elise felt sick all over again. “I…that was to protect your company—your wealth. Not mine.”
“Didn’t read the fine print, did you?” James gave her a self-satisfied smirk she longed to wipe off his face with her fist. “Dear me, you’re not much of an attorney, after all. There’s a clause buried in the body of the agreement that keeps you from backing out.”
“You can’t be serious.” Elise ran a shaking hand through her hair. “You’re not serious.”
“As the grave, my dear. It was Charles’s idea. I didn’t think it would be necessary, but now I’m damn glad I listened to him.” James smiled, the same smile she’d seen him wear when he’d taken over a rival company and shut it down. Only this time I’m the one he’s taking over, she thought and her stomach gave another lurch.
“You disgust me, James,” Elise glared at him, trying to keep her anxiety from showing. “I don’t care what you put in that damn prenup, I am not going to marry you.”
James laughed. “We’ll just see about that, shall we?”
Elise couldn’t think of anything bad enough to call him and her head was swimming with the news he’d given her. I have to get away. Being here with him—with all of them—is like breathing poison gas. If I stay much longer I’m going to be sick again. Besides, she had to get home and study the prenup she’d so foolishly signed. Had to see if there was any way to break it or get out of it.
“Good bye, James,” she said evenly. “Have a nice life.”
Turning on her heel, she marched out of the kitchen door, past the formal dining room and the living area where the two sets of parents still congregated, making polite chit-chat. She could feel their eyes on her—especially Charles’—but she ignored them and left by the front door as quickly as she could.
Thankfully, the car that had brought her and James here was still in the driveway. Elise got into it and gave the driver directions for her apartment in downtown Tampa. Then, closing her eyes, she leaned back against the leather seat and finally let herself cry.
All this time her fiancé had been her stepfather’s spy, only interested in her for her monetary value. On top of Merrick’s death, the pain and betrayal were more than she could bear.
Oh Merrick, she thought longingly as the tears rolled silently down her cheeks. I miss you so much! If only you were here. If only…
* * * * *
Merrick opened his eyes and tried to roll to one side. Something sharp stabbed him—possibly a broken rib—and he groaned. What the fuck is wrong with me? He looked down, trying to answer the question, and wished he hadn’t.
Part of his rib cage was caved in—hence the stabbing sensation—and his right leg was bent at a wrong, unnatural angle. As for his left leg… was that bone poking out of his pants leg? And was the puddle of blood he was lying in all his? He moaned and closed his eyes. His entire body sang with agony. Gods, what a mess.
How long have I been out? He couldn’t remember. In fact, the only things clear in his head were the events leading up to the explosion. Explosion. Damaged the ship…atmosphere and oxygen sucked out. Why aren’t I dead already? Should be floating in space frozen colder than a naked vranna caught in an ice squall. Turning his head to one side with a groan, he looked at the wall, which had been shattered by the bomb. To his surprise, the wound in the ship was healed. In fact, nothing remained of the gaping hole and the gory conglomeration of dismembered troll parts but a single, bloody hand, which had been severed at the wrist.
It was so startling that Merrick almost forgot about his own horrible pain for a moment. Amazing—so Draven wasn’t just bragging. He was telling the truth about the ship being self-healing.
As if to prove his thought true, the smooth, dull silver wall around the bloody hand convulsed and pushed, as though it was trying to rid itself of the foreign body. With a faint pop the troll hand disappeared from view, presumably pushed outside the hull, into the void of space. The once wounded wall was completely whole and smooth once more, just as though nothing had ever happened.
Merrick only wished his own powers of self-healing would work that quickly. He’d been injured before, plenty of times, and come back from it. But he’d never been wounded this badly.
This time it felt fatal.
Things were broken inside him—organs were punctured and possibly burst. Both his legs and half his ribs were fractured. He was bleeding from somewhere and from the size of the puddle around him, he had been for some time. Everything hurt so fiercely he could barely breathe, let alone move. This was the end.
He closed his eyes. It seemed blackly ironic that he’d survived the punishment of the Ancient Ones and Draven’s tortures as well as the blast of the tiny bomb that he’d brought aboard the prototype ship, only to finally expire from his wounds. And now he would die without ever seeing Elise’s face again, without ever holding her and telling her how much he loved her. Sorry baby, he thought. So fucking sorry…
Suddenly a soft, powerful contralto voice filled the cabin. I say to you, Warrior, that you will not die.
“Huh?” Merrick’s eyes popped open and he looked around. There was nothing there—no one to see, but he felt something—a presence too tangible, too real to deny. “Who…?” He coughed, gasped when his broken ribs stabbed him, and tried again. “Who’s there?”
It is I, my child—the Mother of All Life.
“The Goddess?” Merrick looked around again, wishing he could see her.
Do not search for me. To see me is madness and death for a mortal. It is enough that you hear my voice, she murmured.
“Why…why are you here?” he demanded hoarsely. “Come to tell me I’m going straight to the seven hells? I’ll save you the trouble—I already knew that.”
I have come to tell you no such thing.
“So I’m going with you to live in paradise instead?” Merrick laughed weakly though each wheezing breath he took hurt like hell. “Imagine that. And all this time I thought you hated me.”
I know of your thoughts. The Goddess sounded sad. And I will not deny that the path you have walked through life has been difficult. Often I have watched you, my child. Often I have hurt for your pain and grieved for your grief.
“Oh yeah?” Merrick couldn’t help sounding skeptical because he was fucking skeptical. “So if you cared so much, why’d you let it happen?”
Your pain was necessary if you were to understand the female I meant for you to have.
Merrick’s wounded heart gave a thump. “You mean…Elise?”
Indeed, my child. If you had not endured grief as great as hers, Elise would never have trusted you.
Merrick thought of the horrible memories he and Elise had shared with each other in the Deep Blue and knew it was true. If he hadn’t been wounded to the core and she hadn’t seen it, she never could have accepted his empathy and love. Never could have trusted him with the true story of her past.
“I get it,” he said at last. He coughed again and spat blood, wincing as the jagged ribs stabbed his side. “But why are you telling me this now, when it’s too late?”
I say to you again, Warrior, you shall not die. I am not often able to interfere directly in the lives of my child
ren. But every now and again, I am permitted to make an exception.
Suddenly, a pale golden mist gathered at Merrick’s feet and engulfed him. At first it was simply warm, then almost hot. But the heat seemed to bring healing. Or at least, an easement of the agony he’d been suffering. There was a faint chiming sound—as though the most glorious music imaginable was playing just out of earshot—and then Merrick smelled something wonderful—a scent that was lush and delicious and completely alive all at the same time.
Something moved in his wounded legs—it felt as though invisible hands were setting the bones painlessly back in place. He gasped in surprise and drew in a double lungful of the golden mist. It promptly went to work inside him and as he watched, the caved in side of his chest popped back out, like a balloon inflating.
Last but not least, he felt all the minor burns and lacerations on his face being healed. The mist lingered along the twisted white scar on his face but he didn’t feel the healing tingle this time.
I could heal your scars as well, he heard the Goddess murmur as the mist dissipated. But Elise loves them as she loves you. She would be sorry to see them go. Rise, Merrick, you are whole.
Slowly, still not quite believing what had happened, he got to his feet. His legs worked, he wasn’t bleeding from anywhere. Most importantly, it didn’t hurt when he breathed.
“I’m well,” he said, wonderingly, taking a deep breath and letting it out with relish. “You healed me. You fucking healed me! Uh, I mean…” He coughed. “Thank you, Mother of All Life. And please forgive my language.”
You are forgiven. He thought he heard a hint of laughter in her voice.
“But why?” Merrick asked uncertainly. “I mean, why me?”
When you were on Rageron, in the Deep Blue, you prayed to me. You made a request—the first you made since before your mother died. Do you remember what it was?
At first he couldn’t but then his eyes widened. “Yeah, I do. But why—?”
Watch. Suddenly the golden mist formed again but this time it showed an image. As he watched, Merrick’s mismatched eyes narrowed and his hands closed into fists at his sides. A low, protective growl rose in his throat and he leaned forward, as though he could reach into the mist and stop what it showed by will alone.
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