Leisl Leighton - [Pack Bound 01]

by Pack Bound (epub)

  ‘I long for that.’ River’s voice broke the silent magic of the moment.

  ‘For what?’ Skye turned to look at him. He was watching the birds.

  ‘To have such a sense of freedom. To have no cares.’ He looked down at her, his eyes filled with such eternal sadness that she could barely stand looking at them. ‘Perhaps you will tell me about him another time.’

  Skye swallowed, nodded. This had been a bad idea. Her inner turmoil was affecting River and she had to stop it. ‘There’s nothing to tell. A man has been sending me flowers and trying to get me to go out with him.’

  ‘You should.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Go out with him. He’s good for you. He’s meant for you. He brings the truth. He can help break the spell.’

  Skye closed her eyes. ‘I am not a princess in a tower waiting for the prince to come and save me, River.’

  ‘That’s what you think. If only you would wake up, then we both wouldn’t be dying inside.’

  His expression, filled with sadness and longing, pinned her in place.

  But then he cocked his head and jumped up. ‘Cook is back.’ He sniffed. ‘And she’s got steak. I think maybe I’m hungry after all.’ He began to run back up the path, disappearing behind the jasmine-covered screens, but then she heard him turn and he peered back around the last screen. ‘Are you coming? By the smell of it, Cook has bought enough steak to feed an army. You will eat with me, won’t you, Skye? Please?’

  She didn’t have the heart to tell him there was no way he could smell Cook or her steaks from here and that Cook might not have bought them after all, not when he was looking at her with those pleading eyes.

  ‘Okay.’ She stood, walking over to him.

  His eyes flashed at her as she came up beside him. ‘Race you.’

  He took off up the path before she could answer, his long, loping stride helping him to move so fast it was almost inhuman. His laugh echoed back to her through the garden. He always took such joy in running.

  What the hell, she thought, why not act like a child? It was better than being a confused and depressed adult. With a whoop, she ran up the path behind him, enjoying the rare moment of fun, an echo of better times, and left her problems, for now, in his little water-garden oasis behind them.

  They ate steak sandwiches and talked nonsense for an hour, but then he began to get tired and she suggested he go upstairs and have a rest. She walked up with him and tucked him into bed, kissing him on the forehead, promising to visit him again in a day or so.

  As she was walking out the door, he stopped her.

  ‘Skye?’

  She turned and smiled. ‘Yes?’

  ‘Go to him. You can trust him. He is for you. Ask Grandpa.’

  Skye’s lips trembled. She knew she should remind him Grandpa was dead, but she couldn’t bring that sadness to him right now. If he didn’t remember what had happened, she wasn’t about to enlighten him.

  She nodded, blew him a kiss, closed his door and headed downstairs.

  Nobody was about. Morrigan still hadn’t come home from her charity do. Skye sighed. That particular argument would have to wait for another day. She grabbed her coat and handbag and let herself out.

  As she drove away, she realised she was none the wiser about how to deal with Jason and what he was doing to her. She still needed to talk to someone about it and River’s mention of their grandpa made her realise just who that someone had to be.

  Tears in her eyes, she turned onto the freeway, heading towards Springvale Cemetery.

  She drove through the high brick walls with only a half-hour to spare before closing and parked in the area closest to where her grandpa was buried. She could see Harrison Cantrae’s headstone above the others. A monument to ugliness in a splashy show of money, the ugly-arse angel Morrigan had chosen to commemorate her husband’s passing hovered over the simple grey marble headstone that had been Harrison’s choice.

  Trying not to look at the angel as it glowered down at her, Skye instead concentrated on the name engraved under it and the photo embedded there.

  Harrison Cantrae

  1940-2005

  Beloved husband, father and grandfather

  Your strength will be missed by all

  A tear ran down Skye’s cheek as she read the inscription. She sank to her knees and laid her head against the cold stone. It should have been no comfort whatsoever—cold and hard and unyielding grey marble—and yet it was. It was the closest she could come to the man who had faith she could deal with and keep a most sacred trust. She carried the burden of it on her shoulders and had done so since she was ten years old.

  She started to talk, about Jason, the fears over her recent magical use and what that might mean. The words spilled out.

  ‘Bron says my magic is seeping through. That you designed it that way. But it can’t be that. You wouldn’t have done that to me. There must be something wrong with the spell. And perhaps Morrigan knows that, which is why she’s having me followed. Am I crazy? Or is there really something wrong with the spell?’

  There’s nothing wrong with the spell, love.

  Skye bit her lip, not knowing if she could trust the voice anymore, but relieved to be hearing it again. It hadn’t really come to her since that day at the snow.

  I’m sorry, love. I didn’t mean to forsake you. But you are so blocked it makes it hard to come through.

  Skye sat up slowly, unable to believe the words echoing in her ears. They didn’t sound like they were coming from inside her. It had been more like a whisper, the breath of sound; something she could feel on her skin.

  You can trust me. I am so sorry that I had to do what I did. But it was necessary.

  The voice was more than a breath now. It was as if her grandpa stood beside her, talking. But that wasn’t possible. Was it?

  ‘Grandpa?’ she ventured. Shivers chased up and down her spine.

  You must go to your grandmother. Morrigan knows what to do. You need to ask her why we did what we did.

  ‘I know why. You bound my magic so I couldn’t hurt anyone.’

  That’s only part of it. Her grandpa’s voice began to fade away. Ask Morrigan. You must go to Morrigan.

  ‘Has this got something to do with why she’s having me followed?’

  The voice didn’t answer.

  ‘Grandpa?’ She turned around in a circle. ‘Please. I can’t go to Morrigan. She won’t talk with me about this.’

  Her grandpa’s voice, the voice of the spell, didn’t answer. Or maybe it wasn’t the spell voice at all. It had sounded different—as if it was coming from outside her head.

  What if it was actually the spirit of her grandpa talking to her?

  If only that were true.

  But that was a dream akin to River thinking she was a princess who needed saving.

  Pulling herself to her feet, she swiped the tears from her face, pressed a kiss to her fingers and placed them against her grandpa’s name. ‘If I can’t think of anything else, I’ll go to Morrigan. I promise. But first, I’m going to go home and go to bed.’

  A shiver chased icy fingers up her spine.

  Refusing to give in to the need to turn around and see if she could catch whoever was following her, Skye returned to her car.

  Behind her, a huge grey wolf slunk out from behind a large headstone and watched her drive away, its eyes glowing yellow in the fading light.

  Chapter 10

  Morrigan seemed to be hiding from Skye, not returning her calls and never being at Cantrae House when Skye went to visit River over the next week.

  Each time River saw her, he pleaded with her to wake up, to remember. The problem was she didn’t know what he wanted her to remember. She tried to get him to explain, but every time she pressed him, he’d go quiet, almost entering a fugue state for a few minutes before reverting to the childlike self he fell into with more and more regularity.

  It was the calm before the storm.

  She’d seen t
his before, the return to childhood that covered—but never entirely eclipsed—the anger boiling inside. Soon that anger would burst out of River in a violent outpouring that had become more and more dangerous the older he grew. She was so afraid this time would be the worst they’d seen and his medication didn’t seem to be working anymore.

  The only good thing was that her powers hadn’t manifested again. Not even a slight tingle. Even with the provocation Jason caused in his attempt to sway her.

  The depressing thought she’d had about him giving up on her had died early Monday morning, when flowers had once again been at her front door. Each day since brought a new offering.

  She told herself she shouldn’t be thrilled. She told herself to stop holding each bunch of flowers to her like a gift, not to open his notes with trembling hands, their words the warm slide of a knife straight to her heart.

  She was leading him on by not being honest. It had to stop.

  She would agree to go on one date with Jason, but she’d use that opportunity to tell him exactly why she couldn’t go out with him again.

  She took his number from Tom’s enrolment form and plugged it into her phone the next day, but it wasn’t until Saturday morning that she woke determined to call Jason without delay.

  Instead of calling him in the kitchen where Shelley or Bron could walk in on her at any moment, Skye took the phone onto the back deck that overlooked the sprawl of ill-kept lawn and called him from there.

  Breath puffing in the cool spring air, she looked askance at the glowering sky and hoped the storm that was brewing would hold off long enough for her to make this call. The wind was quite nippy and she began to wish she’d put on her big woollen cardigan. Jigging on the spot—because she was cold, not because she was nervous—she made the call.

  Skye managed to chew off two fingernails while she listened to the ring. One ring. Two rings. Three. Maybe he wasn’t going to pick up.

  ‘Hello?’

  His voice, a little sleepy, sent a shiver of desire spiking through her. She gripped the phone tightly in her hand, determined not to drop it this time, and sat with a plop in one of the chairs on the deck.

  ‘Jason.’ It came out as barely more than a whisper. God! It was ridiculous how breathless the sound of his voice made her. Taking in a deep breath, she tried again. ‘Jason. Hi. It’s Skye.’

  ‘Skye.’

  She could hear the smile in his voice. Keeping her lips tightly pressed together to stop the responding smile, she said, ‘Hello,’ then cursed herself—she’d already said that.

  ‘What can I do for you on such a lovely morning?’

  She frowned up at the darkening sky. ‘Have you been outside? It’s not such a lovely morning.’

  ‘Any morning I get woken up by a call from you counts as lovely in my books. I can’t think of a better way to start a day. Actually, I can …’

  Her breath hitched in her throat as he paused. Images flashed through her mind, hot and passionate and so full of thick, heavy desire as to make her feel instantly wet and ready.

  Clearing her throat, she managed, ‘Yes. Well, that’s why I’ve called.’

  ‘Because you can imagine a better way to start the day?’

  ‘No!’ she snapped, trying to clench her muscles against the building wave inside her. ‘Because I think it’s time we had a chat. I know what you’ve been doing and it has to stop.’

  ‘And what have I been doing?’

  ‘You’ve been trying to sway me.’

  ‘No. I’ve been courting you. There’s a difference. We jumped the gun before. I want to take a step back from that and start again.’

  ‘How is what you’ve done these last two weeks been “stepping back from that”? The very fact that you kept sending me flowers and things meant I couldn’t help but think about you. And those letters …’ Her mouth worked for a moment as she desperately tried not to think about the words in those letters. ‘They just reminded me about that night over and over.’

  He chuckled. ‘You’re right. I cheated. That wasn’t really starting from the beginning again. But just so you know, if I was interested in a woman I’d never been intimate with, I’d send her flowers and chocolates and balloons so she would think about me as much as I’m thinking about her. I’d hope that my efforts at courting would make her feel special and make her smile.’

  ‘You’ve made me feel as frustrated as hell.’

  He chuckled. ‘Well, I’ll have to try harder then, won’t I?’

  ‘No,’ she blurted out, panicked at the thought of him upping the charm offensive. She didn’t think she’d be able to survive that. ‘I give in. I’ll go out with you. On one date. Tonight.’

  ‘Tonight will be good. I’ll book us a table at—’

  ‘We’ll go to Choys,’ she broke in before he could take the reins back. ‘It’s a restaurant at the village shops ’round the corner. It does really great Chinese and Malaysian food.’ And wasn’t romantic at all with its bright lights, mismatched chairs and fast service. Dinner at Choys would be over and done with in an hour.

  ‘I know Choys. It’s BYO—so I’ll bring the wine and if it’s not raining, we can walk there from your place.’

  ‘No. I’ll just meet you there at seven. I’ll make the booking.’

  ‘Skye.’ She could practically see him shaking his head as he said her name. ‘You promised me one date. I’ll book the restaurant and be over to pick you up just before seven—we can decide whether to walk or not. I’ll see you then.’ And before she could say anything further, he hung up.

  Skye looked at the phone for a minute, stunned that he’d wrested control from her so quickly. How the hell had that happened?

  One thing was certain: he might want to have the full date experience, but she wasn’t going to give it to him. She wouldn’t dress up for him—Choys was a jeans and shirt kind of place. And she certainly wouldn’t bother doing her hair or putting any make-up on. And even if it was raining, she wasn’t going to get in the enclosed space of a car with him.

  She could barely resist him when he was on the other end of the phone. If he turned to her with that heat in his eye, or even touched her hand and they were in the private confines of a car, despite all the will power in the world, she might not be able to resist.

  One night with him was hard enough to get over. She didn’t want to make it worse. They’d walk to the restaurant, they’d order dinner and then she would tell him what she had to and that would be an end to it.

  Why did that thought make her want to cry?

  ‘Watcha doin’ out here?’

  Skye jumped at the sound of the voice behind her and almost dropped the phone on the deck. ‘Bron! Do you have to creep up on me like that?’ She swiped at the tear that had fallen and turned to face her friend.

  Bron stepped out onto the deck with two steaming mugs in her hand. ‘I wasn’t creeping. This door makes enough noise when you open it to wake the dead—we really must put some graphite onto the ball bearings. Here.’ She held out a mug to Skye.

  Skye took the mug gratefully, only realising as she grabbed it just how cold she was. She sipped the coffee. ‘Thanks. I needed this.’

  Bron’s gaze flashed to the phone. ‘So, what’s with the secret early-morning phone calls?’

  ‘It’s not that early.’

  Bron looked pointedly at her watch and then back up at Skye. ‘It’s not even eight.’

  Skye had the grace to blush and look away. She was rarely out of bed before nine on a Saturday, her traditional sleep-in morning. ‘Yeah, well, I have things to do today.’

  ‘And calls to make, apparently.’ Bron sipped her coffee and said, a little too nonchalantly, ‘Were you calling Adam’s brother?’

  Skye refused to react, but Bron wouldn’t be put off by Skye’s lack of answer.

  ‘You met him up at the snow, didn’t you? He’s the one you shared the wine with.’ She stood in front of Skye and crouched down so that Skye had no choice but to look at he
r. ‘Although, you did more than share wine that night, didn’t you?’

  Skye still didn’t answer, but either the red of her skin or the look on her face gave her away.

  ‘I knew it!’ Bron crowed, leaping to her feet, coffee sloshing over her hand. ‘Shit.’ She put the mug on the table and licked the coffee off her skin. Waving her hand in the air to cool it, she began to pace. ‘I knew something had gone on that night. I mean, your energy levels were so low and your aura was pulsing, yet sluggish. That must have been one hell of an energy transfer.’ She stopped pacing. ‘Was the sex amazing? It would have to have been amazing—all animal and passionate, given what he is.’

  Skye’s gaze finally snapped to her friend. ‘What are you talking about? What do you mean, “given what he is”?’

  Bron stopped waving her hand and went perfectly still—an amazing accomplishment for her. ‘You don’t know?’

  ‘Don’t know what? I swear, if you’re about to go on about soul mates or something equally stupid, Bronwyn Kincaid, I think I’ll scream.’

  Bron chuckled. ‘You can’t scream. You’ll wake Shelley and she had a late shift and didn’t get to sleep until four.’

  ‘Oh,’ Skye said, suddenly deflated. ‘Well, I’ll do something less loud then. But I’m really not in the mood to talk about soul mates, auras or power transfers this morning.’

  ‘You’re never in the mood to talk about them.’

  ‘You know why,’ she hissed, tears pricking her eyes with a suddenness that took her by surprise.

  Bron knelt in front of her and took Skye’s hands in hers. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. It just worries me that you deny yourself half of who you’re meant to be.’

  Skye pulled her hands out of Bron’s and stood up. ‘I’m dangerous, Bron. My powers have brought nothing but grief. Why on earth would I want to accept that?’

  Thunder clapped overhead and lightning brightened the sky. A drop of water plopped on the deck, followed by another and then another.

  Glancing up at the storm that was about to break, she said, ‘I’m going inside.’ And without waiting to see what Bron would do, Skye returned to bed, where she managed to hide under the covers, trying not to think about Bron and what she’d said. But it was impossible.