by I. T. Lucas
“What if it’s too much for her to process?” Leon asked. “If Vlad warns her, she’ll be better prepared.”
Ana shook her head. “This cabin holds fond memories for her. Wendy and Vlad fell in love here. Besides, if she needs to clear her head and cool off, this is the perfect place for that. There is nowhere to run to, she will have to face you.”
Margaret nodded. “Either way is not perfect, but I’d rather tell her my story myself. There is so much I need to explain.”
“We are here for you,” Ana said. “I can attest to the influence Emmett had on you, and how he was able to convince you that hiding and letting the world believe you were dead was your best option and in Wendy’s best interest.”
“How did you know that he did that?”
Ana shrugged. “I figured it out. One way or another, he did that to all the community members. He convinced me that my father would destroy my life if I let him. There was a kernel of truth in that, which was why I believed him, but I didn’t need to hide in Safe Haven to assert my will and not let my father dictate how I lived my life. I could have done it on the outside just as well, probably better.”
“Emmett had the same hypnotic quality as Kalugal,” Bowen said. “Think how easy it was for Kalugal to free you from fear. That’s how easily Emmett instilled it in you.”
The truth of his words slammed into Margaret with a force that had her slumping against the couch pillows. “Why would he do that to me?”
“Control,” Bowen said. “As long as you were terrified of leaving, you were his to exploit.”
“I’m not such a great find.”
Bowen growled. “You were twenty years old when you got to Safe Haven.”
He was right. She was pretty back then, and Emmett had shown a lot of interest in her. At first, it had been to help her heal, but once she’d gotten better, his interest had turned more carnal in nature.
Over the years though, the guilt and sorrow eating her from the inside had turned her into a walking skeleton, making her look older and more haggard than her years or type of work justified. Emmett’s interest in her had slowly faded along with her waning beauty, but the fear he’d instilled in her had remained.
Margaret shook her head. “How am I going to explain that to Wendy?”
“You are not alone.” Bowen wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “We are here to support you.”
74
Vlad
Vlad wasn’t sure at all that Bowen’s idea to surprise Wendy was the best way for her to be reunited with her mother.
He hated lying to her, although technically he wasn’t. He was just omitting what he knew about Bowen’s new girlfriend.
The excuse for driving up to the cabin at night, right after his return from his trip to Milwaukee, was a reunion with the Guardians who’d been assigned to her and Richard after she’d betrayed their other location to her uncle.
“Remember not to mention my trip to Milwaukee to Bowen or Leon. Richard wants to keep it hush-hush.”
“I know.” Wendy curled up in her seat. “When did they come up with the reunion idea?”
“Today. They are leaving the cabin tomorrow afternoon, so today was the last day to do it. They were talking about us and how we fell in love at the cabin, and Leon wanted Anastasia to meet you. Just don’t say anything about immortals because Anastasia’s friend doesn’t know yet.”
Wendy’s eyes sparkled. “Yet? Is she a potential Dormant?”
Vlad just nodded.
“I’m so happy for those two.” She shifted in her seat to face him. “Leon and Bowen were really nice to me when they had no reason to be.” She chuckled. “After you told me about being immortal, Bowen gave me a fatherly-sounding speech. I thought he was going to warn me not to hurt you again or else. Instead, we talked about people changing, and about my fear that you might become controlling or violent. You know how terrified of relationships I was. He helped me realize that I shouldn’t be.”
Not knowing how to respond to that, Vlad nodded again.
“Anyway, Bowen did a good job of reassuring me. He said that you’re golden and that immortals were good people. He was also the one who told me about fated mates. I really hope that Anastasia’s friend is a nice person. Bowen deserves to be happy.”
“I’m sure she is.”
“What’s her name?”
“Margaret.”
“That’s easy to remember.” Wendy turned to look out the window. “I don’t think we are ever going to find my mother. She probably died from a drug overdose like my father said.”
Vlad had told her a watered-down version of what he’d seen in Roger’s mind, but perhaps he shouldn’t have. If Wendy knew what her mother had suffered, she might be more forgiving.
“That maggot doesn’t deserve to live. If not for my promise to you, I would have killed him, bled him slowly while he screamed in pain.”
Wendy recoiled, and he regretted what he’d said even though it was true. He, who had never hurt a fly, would have delighted in tormenting Roger Miller for days, paying him back for all he had done to his wife and daughter.
“I’m sorry.” He put a hand on her thigh. “It’s still fresh in my mind. I didn’t tell you the half of it, but just so you know, your mother had good reason to run and hide and never come back. He would have killed her on sight, and in his rage, he might have accidentally killed you as well, even though he loved you.”
In his own twisted way, Roger Miller had believed that he cared for Wendy.
Wendy shivered. “I don’t believe that he’s even capable of love. In my mind, I don’t blame her. But in my heart.” She put a hand over her chest. “I ache because I’ve been abandoned by my mother. My life is good now, and I have no complaints. I just want to know whether she’s alive and whether she found happiness elsewhere.”
“Your wish might come true sooner than you think,” he murmured.
“What do you mean? How?”
“The Fates work in mysterious ways.”
75
Margaret
Margaret was on her third glass of wine when Bowen got up and walked up to the front door. “They are here.”
A moment later she heard the car engine, and her stomach did a somersault.
“It’s going to be okay.” Ana sat next to her on the couch and took her trembling hand in hers. “Try to act natural, see if she recognizes you.”
“How could she? Wendy was a baby when Roger kicked me out. She won’t remember me, and we don’t look alike enough for her to figure it out. What am I going to say to her?”
“It will come to you.” Ana patted her hand. “Don’t freak out.”
Easier said than done. Her entire body was trembling.
“I have no reason to be afraid,” she murmured quietly. “I am surrounded by friends who care for me, protect me, and will not let anything happen to my daughter or me. I am strong, I am a survivor, and I can handle anything life throws at me.”
Margaret kept repeating the words Kalugal had given her like a mantra in her head until Wendy walked in the door, a very tall, gangly young man at her side.
Then the words left her, lodged in her throat like a rock, and tears started streaming down her cheeks.
“What’s wrong?” Wendy walked up to her. “Why are you crying?”
Margaret was trembling so badly that Ana had to pry the wineglass out of her hand because it was sloshing all over her.
“Wendy,” she whispered. “My sweet Wendy.”
Confusion in her eyes, Wendy crouched in front of her. “Do I know you?”
Margaret nodded. “I’m your mother.”
For a long moment, no one talked, no one breathed, and the oppressive silence was choking the life out of Margaret.
As her vision started to tunnel, Wendy pushed up and wrapped her arms around her. “Breathe, Mom. I’ve got you.”
Margaret sucked in a breath, and with the oxygen in her lungs replenished, she started sobbing on her daughter
’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry. So, so sorry. I didn’t want to leave you. I’m sorry, so, so sorry.”
“Shh, it’s okay. I understand.” Wendy pulled back a little and smiled, and it was the most beautiful smile Margaret had ever seen. “I thought that you looked familiar. Now I know why. Have you been hiding in that cult for all these years?”
Margaret nodded. “I’m sorry for being such a coward. I thought that you’d be better off thinking that I was dead.”
“I’ve never believed that you were.” Wendy sat on the couch on Margaret’s other side, wrapped her arm around her shoulders, and looked at her fiancé. “How long have you known?”
He pushed his long bangs aside, revealing a pair of mismatched eyes. There was boundless love in them as he looked at Wendy. “Bowen called me today and told me that he might have found your mother. He needed a little more information to make sure that it was her. He called me later and told me that the information checked out but asked me not to tell you. He wanted to tell Margaret first. Then he called me again and asked me to bring you here but not tell you the real reason. Your mother wanted to tell you her story in person.”
Ana rose to her feet. “I know it’s dark outside, but let’s go for a walk and give these two privacy.”
Margaret gripped her hand. “Don’t go. I’m done being scared and ashamed, and you are my friends. I trust you with my ugly secrets.” She turned to Wendy. “Unless you prefer otherwise.”
76
Bowen
By the time Margaret had finished telling Wendy her side of the story, all three ladies had tear-stricken faces, the men were fighting a losing battle with their fangs, and other than Margaret and Wendy, everyone had eaten several sandwiches and drunk a shitload of alcohol, even Anastasia.
Bowen’s decision to end Roger Miller’s life had solidified, and not because he wanted to terminate her marriage. He was going to do that regardless of whether Roger had divorced Margaret in her absence or not.
“I can’t believe how forgiving you are.” Margaret wiped at her tears. “How did you grow up to be so kind?”
Wendy glanced at Vlad. “I didn’t. I was either scared or apathetic, selfish and indifferent, and I vowed never to fall for a man. All of that has changed thanks to Vlad. He showed me that not all people are bad, he showed me a community of people who had each other’s backs, and they welcomed me even though I wronged them terribly.”
Margaret’s eyes widened. “How? What could you have possibly done?”
Wendy sighed. “I almost got some of them captured, and I still have nightmares about what would have been done to them if they hadn’t managed to escape.”
“Captured by whom? And why?”
When Wendy looked at Bowen, he nodded. “It’s okay. You can tell your mother everything. I think she can handle it now.”
“Isn’t it something a mate does? I don’t want to deprive you of the privilege.”
“Margaret and I are not there yet, we are just getting to know each other, and this is a unique situation. I think you deserve the honors more than I do.”
Wendy huffed. “Don’t be ridiculous. If not for you, I wouldn’t have found my mother, and you are her mate. You deserve to do it.”
Margaret watched the exchange with curiosity mixed with fear in her expressive eyes. “Would someone please tell me what’s going on? And why is everyone referring to a significant other as a mate?”
Bowen waved at Wendy. “Let’s do it together. You start, and I’ll supply details and proof when needed.”
Chuckling, Anastasia patted Margaret’s good knee. “My advice is to keep an open mind. I was in your situation just a few days ago, and I can tell you that everything is true, and no one is pulling your leg.” She rose to her feet. “In the meantime, Leon and I will serve dinner.”
Wendy took in a long breath. “So here goes. I have a low-level paranormal talent. I’m an empath, which means that I can read people’s emotions.” She smiled. “Do you have any special talents?”
Margaret shook her head.
“Usually, paranormal talents run in families. Anyway, dear Uncle Simmons had one day shown up at our house and offered me a very lucrative government job at their new paranormal talent department.”
Simmons was Wendy’s uncle?
Bowen shot a glance at Vlad, who nodded. “I only found out after Jacki’s wedding, and it no longer mattered.”
Margaret bared her teeth. “Edgar was my uncle, and the bastard didn’t even bother to show up at his sister’s funeral.”
“I’m not surprised,” Wendy said. “He was a selfish, power-hungry pedophile.”
“What did he do to you?” Margaret whispered, her eyes filled with horror.
“Nothing. But I’m an empath. I saw what he wanted to do to me. That was revolting enough.”
As Wendy continued her story, Bowen walked to the kitchen and pulled a couple of beers out of the fridge. He handed one to Vlad, who followed him there.
“You’re in the way.” Anastasia shooed them out.
It took another fifteen minutes for Wendy to get to where Vlad had revealed who and what he really was.
Margaret looked shell-shocked, but she heeded Anastasia’s advice and didn’t voice disbelief. There was awe in her eyes as she glanced at Vlad, then Leon, and finally when she leveled them at Bowen.
“How come I didn’t see anything?” she whispered. “Did you thrall me?”
“Twice, but both times were to put you to sleep. Once when we took Anastasia to the clinic, and the other one was earlier today after you told me your story.”
Anastasia dragged Leon into the living room. “I can demonstrate if you want.” She kissed him hard, and when she let go, his eyes were glowing and his fangs had elongated, but not fully.
Margaret gasped.
There were many more gasps as the story continued, and when it ended, it was past midnight.
“You should spend the night here,” Margaret said to Wendy and Vlad. “It’s too late for you to drive home.”
“It’s okay, Mom.” Wendy leaned and kissed her cheek. “Immortals only need a few hours of sleep, and our night vision is excellent. For Vlad and me, and these three.” She waved her hand over Leon, Anastasia, and Bowen. “Midnight feels like eight in the evening. You have nothing to worry about.”
“When will I see you again?”
Smiling, Wendy glanced at Bowen. “You’ll see me tomorrow when Bowen brings you to the village. Did you think that you were going back to Safe Haven after everything that I told you?”
“I guess I can’t.” Margaret wrung her hands. “What am I going to do in your village?”
“Anything you want.” Wendy kissed her again. “The important thing is that we are a family again, and we have all the time in the world to get to know each other.”
Bowen’s gut clenched.
Margaret was thirty-eight years old and not in the best of health. Transition would be difficult for her. Then again, he had to believe that the Fates wouldn’t take Margaret away from him and Wendy after going to all the trouble of maneuvering them all together.
Margaret had definitely suffered enough to earn the reward of a true love mate, and Bowen hoped that his many good deeds had earned him some goodwill from the Fates as well.
77
Cassandra
After Cassandra had ended things with Onegus the day before, he had called at least five more times. Not right away, and not before she’d cried her eyes out in her office and snarled at anyone who’d dared to knock on her door. His first call had come at seven in the evening, but she’d let it go straight to voicemail. He called again, and after letting that one go as well, she’d checked whether he’d left a message, but he hadn’t.
After three additional calls, she’d turned her phone off and had tried to go to sleep. It had been a miserable night, but at least nothing had exploded. She wasn’t angry, just sad, and the swirling energy inside of her felt subdued.
She’d fina
lly found an antidote.
Depression.
Thank you, but no thanks.
She would let herself mope around for a couple of days, eat excessive amounts of ice cream, and then shake it off.
Sounded like a good plan when she’d tossed and turned throughout the night, but when she turned her phone back on in the morning, a message from Onegus was waiting in her voicemail, and ignoring it was not happening.
Sitting cross-legged on her bed, she pressed play.
“Upon further reflection, I realized that I might have given you the wrong impression. Nothing could be further from the truth, and I’m going to prove it to you. Call me.”
How was he going to prove it? Invite her to meet Connor?
She’d pass.
Except, her bravado didn’t last long, and after drinking three cups of coffee and feeling like she could personally power the entire state with the energy swirling inside her, Cassandra called Onegus back.
He answered right away. “Give me one moment, please.”
It was noisy in the background, people talking, phones ringing, but it was fading as if Onegus was walking away from the source of the noise.
“Thanks for calling me back. I was ready to drive over to your office and make a scene.”
She chuckled nervously. “Then I’m glad I called.”
“You hurt my feelings yesterday,” he said softly. “No one has ever hung up on me before. That was rude.”
“I know, and I apologize for acting so immaturely, but I felt hurt too.”
She still did, and he hadn’t told her how he was going to prove to her that she’d gotten the wrong impression, but there was hope in her heart that hadn’t been there before.
“You punished me for an imagined crime that I haven’t committed,” Onegus said softly. “I owe you a spanking for your ungrounded accusations and for hanging the phone up on me.”