by P. A. Lupton
The ring of my cell phone broke into my thoughts.
“Reece, you gotta get down to the lab. They found something.” Morrison’s clipped command was so enthusiastic I heard it bubbling over the phone. “I’ll meet you there.”
“I’ll be there in ten minutes.” I felt the ball of tension knotting my stomach. I had a sinking feeling I knew what the lab had found.
“Where have you been?” I was greeted impatiently by Morrison fifteen minutes later. “I waited for you, but I wanted to know what they found. Let’s go.”
A typical science geek, the lab tech was tall and lean. With dark rimmed glasses and a plaid shirt, he looked as if he dressed from a store called Nerds R’ Us.
As he launched into a lengthy scientific explanation about the procedure he used to compare the samples, I felt my eyes glaze with boredom. None of it made sense to me. “Can you just tell us in layman’s terms what you found?”
“Oh...yes,” he stammered, clearly surprised by my blunt interruption. “As you requested, I did a comparative analysis of the DNA for each of the victims, and I discovered they were all related. Not siblings, but each of your victims had enough DNA markers in common to suggest they were first cousins.”
Oh, my God! I couldn’t hear anything else he said; the blood pounding in my ears was deafening. I felt like the air had been vacuumed out of the room. How could Nathan have known?
I’d had my own blood sample sent to an old friend in Chicago. I wasn’t ready to be officially tied to the victims yet, so I wanted to keep these results to myself. I should have mine this afternoon, but I already knew what the outcome would be. That was why I bore such a striking resemblance to the victims. These women were my family.
How could I have not known about them? Why had my father felt he couldn’t trust me with this? Knowing how desperate I was for family, and given my career, he should have known I could handle the information. My eyes watered when I thought about my dad. Even though I knew his deceit was for my protection, it stung. Still, I tried to see the situation from his perspective. If someone out there was killing my family, then Nathan was right and I was in danger. To be fair, if it were my father in danger, I would’ve done anything in my power to shelter him—including lie to him. I couldn’t fault his decision.
“...unbelievable...tell agent Howard...related...first physical link...” I wasn’t listening to Morrison but I picked up bits and pieces of his ranting. He was so keyed up that I felt the excitement spilling off him. “...you figure it out...Agent Reece?”
Suddenly, I realized he was talking to me. “Sorry, I spaced out. What did you say?”
“How did you figure it out? What made you think to cross-reference the DNA?” he rambled breathlessly. “There was absolutely no connection between victims. As far as we know, they didn’t even know each other.”
“The blood” I lied. “The killer is somehow draining their blood, and I had a gut feeling we should examine the DNA closer. I thought maybe we’d find an illness or genetic anomaly. I had no idea what we’d find for sure.” The lies came easily to me. After all, I’d been telling half-truths my whole career since every one of my hunches came from a source I could never disclose. Not if I didn’t want to end up in a strait jacket.
“Good work, Agent Reece,” he praised. “Now we know the killer is definitely not choosing his victims randomly, or simply by appearance. Somehow, he knows they’re all related. We need to find out how this guy knows about their relationship when it appears they didn’t know themselves. We also need to search for more relatives. If there are more, they’re in danger, too.”
Shit. Was I going to be able to hide a possible connection to the victims? How would I explain that to the FBI? I could hear myself now: Agent Hunter, I knew about the blood connection because I’m psychic. Oh and by the way, I’m a witch too—and so were the other women. I was going to have to figure this out before the FBI learned too much. There was only one person I could think of to help, and I hoped he had the answers I needed, because—God knew—I had questions.
Agent Morrison was busy on the phone the rest of the afternoon, running down phone records, bank accounts, and school records—anything and everything he could think of that might prove the victims knew each other. If we had any hope of stopping this killer, we needed to discover how he knew of their relationship. We also had to find out why he was targeting them. It was the link we’d need to locate him. Somehow, I realized it was going to be a lot more problematic than that.
While Morrison was busy on the phone, I took the chance to call my friend in Chicago to see if he received the lab results from my DNA test.
“Ryan?”
“Brianna? Is that you?” he asked
“Yes, it’s me. Did you get the results back?”
“I’m fine thanks, and you?” he retorted, sarcastically.
“Sorry, Ryan. I’m under the gun here and I only have a few minutes to talk.”
“Okay. The results back,” he confirmed, “and, just as you suspected, all the blood samples had enough DNA markers in common to suggest they were cousins.”
“All of them? You’re sure?”
“Yes, all four samples match.” He paused, his voice filled with concern. “Brianna, you okay?”
“I’m fine, Ryan,” I reassured him. “It’s just a case I’m working on. I was following a hunch and didn’t want to mention it unless I knew for sure. Thanks. I owe you.”
“No, you don’t. Don’t be a stranger, okay?”
“Okay, I’ll talk to you soon. Thanks again.” I snapped my phone shut in a daze.
In a futile attempt at normalcy, I worked out the remainder of the day. Somehow, I thought if I pretended life was still ordinary, then it would be. I’d been accused of wishful thinking before.
In the past few weeks, I’d transferred jobs, met a man who’d the potential to break my heart, lost my father, found out about family I didn’t know I had, learned my newfound family was being murdered for their blood, discovered we were all witches, and that I was in danger of being slaughtered by a sadistic serial killer. What more could there be?
Nathan alone held the answers I needed to solve this puzzle. How did he know about all of this? How were our families connected? Did he have any idea who the killer was, or why he was stalking my family?
I opened my cell and dialed his number expecting to get his answering machine.
“Hello.” Heat traveled up my spine the moment I heard his voice.
“Nathan...?”
“Brianna.” He almost sounded relieved.
“Yes, it’s me...” Silence hung in the air as I struggled for words.
“I assume since you are calling instead of taking out a restraining order, you know the truth.”
“Yes. But now I have about a million questions.” Suddenly, I was frightened he might not have the answers I needed.
He sighed. “I thought perhaps you might. In fact, I have more to tell you. I would have explained the other night, but you needed some time on your own to sort through everything.”
“Thank you for giving me space.”
“Anytime.”
“Nathan...I’m in unfamiliar territory here. I work with facts, and what you’re telling me seems like fiction. I don’t know how much more I can handle.” I knew I was baring my soul to a man I’d met not too long ago. And by all rights, he should feel like a stranger to me. So, why didn’t he?
“Brianna, I think some part of you has known your whole life that you are different from other people. I imagine finally discovering the truth about yourself will provide some solace...and I will be here for you.”
I felt a lump rise in my throat from the depth and sincerity of his words.
“I have something I would love to show you. Are you available tomorrow morning?” he asked. “I could pick you up at eight.”
“I’d like that. I’ll see you tomorrow. Goodbye, Nathan.”
“Goodbye.” After he disconnected, I pressed t
he phone to my chest, as if it could somehow suppress the rage of heat and emotions swelling inside my heart. Whatever was going on with this case, and with my life, I knew one thing for sure. I was falling hard for Nathan Donovan.
***
The rest of the day took an eternity to pass. I was eager to see Nathan again, and my impatience had little to do with getting answers to my questions. The past few days had been tumultuous, but I had an undeniable feeling of loss since I left Nathan in Chicago. It was amazing considering what a short time I’d known him that he’d become so enmeshed in my life, and my thoughts. In fact, I had dreamed of Nathan every night since the day I met him, and even more so since learning we were both witches. Having this secret to share made me feel more connected to him. I’d never told anyone about my gift, and it was as if by sharing with another person, I’d been unburdened.
He arrived early the next morning. My heart thundered in my chest and a flutter tickled my belly. I didn’t even bother trying to withhold my smile—I was happy to see him and there was no point in pretending to be aloof. The funny thing was, he looked just as eager to see me.
“Brianna, you look gorgeous.” The intensity of his gaze left me feeling like he could see into my soul. And his unhurried perusal of my body felt like a physical caress. Heat flared under my skin and I felt myself blush everywhere.
“You look...nice, too.” Boy, was that an understatement. “Where are you taking me? You said you had something to show me.”
“Somewhere special,” he replied, coyly. “Trust me, you will love it.”
Holding open the car door, he waited until I was seated and then pushed in next to me. “One of the perks of my business—a car service with driver. It gives us more time together.” He winked, and my breath hitched when his leg brushed against mine. “Would you like something to drink?”
“I don’t know. Is what you have to tell me so bad that you need to ply me with alcohol first?” I joked, nervously.
He chuckled. “I was thinking perhaps orange juice.”
“Orange juice sounds great."
“What I have to tell you will satisfy a great deal of questions you have. And, you need to know it in order to protect yourself.”
I knew I could trust him—I felt it. He was no longer hiding his emotions from me. Nor was he hiding the current he normally emitted. I felt in the air now, and I realized it was power. Now that I recognized it, I was able to differentiate that it was vastly different from what I felt at the crime scene.
“Thank you,” I said, “for not hiding.”
He sighed and gave me a sultry look. “It is a relief to be myself around you. I have grown to care for you, Brianna, and I want you to know every part of me. I do not wish for there to be any secrets between us.”
Heat blossomed and spread throughout my chest as I picked up on the depth of his feelings. It assuaged some of my doubts, to know he was falling for me as hard as I’d already fallen for him.
“Brianna...” His eyes locked on mine as he inched closer. His movements were slow, almost hesitant. It was agonizing. Gauging my reaction, he seemed unsure whether his kiss would be welcome, especially after everything that had happened recently.
The tip of my tongue darted along my lower lip, my breath came faster as my anticipation grew. My nipples hardened, pressing against my blouse, the sensation amazingly sensual. I was aroused in a way I’d never experienced.
Reflexively, I leaned into him. Interpreting the action as permission, his mouth closed over mine. Heat sizzled a devastating path through my entire body, turning my bones to jelly. Parting my lips, I opened for him and he explored my mouth with his tongue. The kiss was gentle, searching—at first. Gradually, he took it deeper, became more impassioned, until he was devouring me with his lips.
The craving was overwhelming. Whimpering against his mouth, I pressed my body firmly against his. I felt as though I couldn’t get close enough. His response to my uninhibited desire was immediate; his hand fisted in my hair drawing my head back gently, but firmly. The intensely dominant action caused my entire lower half to clench with longing.
I was drowning in Nathan—his scent, his taste, and the feel of his mouth against me. Excitement heated my blood and sent it pulsing through my veins as he grazed his teeth across my jaw, the nipping bites utterly destructive. I absolutely craved this forceful side that was in such opposition to his well-bred exterior.
The warmth of his breath tickled my ear as he languorously trailed his tongue around my earlobe. “Brianna.” My name was said on a whisper, almost like a plea.
I moaned in response.
Bit by bit he kissed, licked, and nibbled his way down the side of my neck. Finally, his mouth engulfed the skin where my neck and shoulder met, causing heat and moisture to flood my core. His mouth fastened to my flushed skin, sucking lusciously.
“Oh...God” I was so absorbed in his kisses that I forgot all about my wandering hands. Suddenly, I was conscious they were brushing along the flesh of his stomach. It was rock hard. I felt every dip and crevice of sinewy muscle. Forget six-pack—the man had an eight-pack etched perfectly into his abdomen. Wow, those suits he’d favored had been hiding a treasure beneath. His muscles twitched in reaction to my questing fingers.
Desperate to taste him again, I twined my hand through his hair and urged his mouth back to mine. His kisses were drugging—addictive. Nipping gently at my lower lip, he quickly soothed over the stinging bites with his tongue. I shuddered. Nathan was losing control, his kiss deepening once again.
All at once he seemed to realize he was losing his carefully erected restraint. He stopped kissing me and pulled back. His hand cupped the back of my neck as he pressed his forehead against mine. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath.
“I am consuming every ounce of willpower I have to stop touching you right now.” He was still panting, and overcome with weariness. “You need to know everything before we continue this.”
He didn’t need to tell me he was worried about his forthcoming revelation, I felt it. He turned to face forward. When he laced his fingers through mine, I felt the proverbial butterflies flapping their wings in my belly once again. In such a tender gesture that it almost brought tears to my eyes, he lifted my hand and kissed it softly, lingering for just a moment before placing our entwined hands on his lap. Maybe it was because he was holding my hand, but I was suddenly very aware that I was shaking, and it had nothing to do with my nerves over our impending conversation.
“Will it be long before we arrive?” I asked in an attempt to fill the uncomfortable silence permeating the air.
Without averting his gaze from the window, he answered, “We are approximately five minutes away.” Tension filled the car as we neared our destination.
The minutes ticked slowly until we pulled up the driveway of a gorgeous two-story, white Victorian home. With striking, steep roof pitches, steeple turrets and dormers, it was nestled right at the base of the mountains. The scenery was breathtaking, and the house spectacular. It had a huge wraparound porch with elegantly detailed railings and posts.
“It’s beautiful,” I murmured, instantly in love with the house. It was large, though not a mansion. The house wasn’t ostentatious, but it screamed with character. It looked like a home filled with love, and it was literally humming with a positive energy. I felt a warmth spread in my chest as I took it all in.
“Is this your house?”
“Do you like it?”
“I love it. There’s just something about it... I can’t put my finger on, but I love it! It’s so warm, and welcoming.”
“No, it’s not my house, but I have very fond memories in this house.”
“Oh... it’s your family’s home,” I surmised from the nostalgic tone of his voice.
“No. In fact, it is your familial home. It was your grandmother’s, and her mother’s before that, and now it belongs to you.”
“Mine?” I looked at him, and then back at the house.
“Yes. It is always left to the oldest daughter of the oldest daughter. That was Morganna...” He hesitated briefly with sadness. “Now, it is you. I have been taking care of it awaiting the return of your family.”
I felt the tears pool in my eyes, waiting to be released as I struggled not to cry. I was so overcome by emotions I didn’t know how to react. “This,” my voice cracked, “is the house where my mother grew up?”
“Yes,” he reached for my hand and asked hesitantly, “would you like to go inside?”
Did I want to go inside? I wanted to run inside. I was desperate to learn anything I could about my mother. But for some reason I couldn’t get my feet to move.
“I never knew my mother; she died when I was a baby.” Tears fell silently as I spoke. “I asked my father so many times to tell me about her, but he never would. I think it was too painful for him. I stopped pressing because it made him so sad when I mentioned her. You’re giving me what I’ve always wanted, a chance to know a little bit about her…about our family. I don’t know how to thank you.”
“Do not thank me yet. I have too much to explain,” he nodded toward the house, “inside.”
An inner turmoil raged inside me as he led me inside the house. Nervousness about what he had to divulge, but also eagerness to learn more about the family I had never known.
Inside was just as beautiful as the outside. The first thing I noticed was the sixteen-foot ceilings; it made the room look larger than it was, and yet, strangely inviting. The furniture was all oversized with exaggerated curves, plush upholstery, and luxurious patterns. The woodwork in the room was meticulously carved and cultured mahogany. The overall arrangement of furniture, draperies, and fabrics were simultaneously elegant and comfortable.
The house was stunning, but what really drew my attention were the pictures scattered all around the walls. There was one in particular attracting my interest. It was an oval frame near the ornately carved fireplace, and it held a photo of a woman I recognized instantly as my mother.