A man’s voice floated up from downstairs. Her pulse accelerated. Adrenaline surged. And then she recognized him. Danbur. And the irrational fear that Rick had somehow had broken into her house to threaten her in person turned first to relief, and then to something else altogether. Longing. And, when she heard Sera’s piping tones and Danbur’s answering rumble of laughter, longing turned to a soul-deep ache for what might have been. Because although she didn’t understand how or why, she knew Danbur would be leaving them both. Soon.
She crawled to her feet and headed downstairs.
Danbur had Sera clinging to his back—hence the giggles. He glanced up when he heard her footsteps on the treads. In a blink his gaze turned from light, and if not carefree then something close to it, to dark and brooding. “You are upset,” he said.
“It’s nothing.” She waved a hand, trying for airy unconcern. “Just work stuff.” Holding the rail, she perched on a stair, glad she’d judged it so that she had the height advantage.
Danbur plucked Sera from his back and set her carefully on her feet. “’Tis getting late, little one, and your mother is tired. Why don’t you run a bath while I search out something for her to eat?”
Sera’s expression—all big serious eyes magnified by her glasses—showed she understood the “I need to talk to your mother in private” subtext. She blew Danbur a kiss and scampered upstairs, squeezing past Opal on the way up.
By tacit agreement they both waited until they heard the bath water running. Danbur spoke first. “You look like a horse has dragged you backward through a thorn bush. What has happened? Tell me.”
She opened her mouth to tell him it was none of his business but what came out was, “Sera’s father somehow managed to track me down. He threatened me. On the phone—not in person. But even so. It was…. Horrible. And strangely liberating.” She caught her lower lip between her teeth. Yes. That fit. Because standing up to Rick, showing him she wouldn’t be cowed by his threats, tell him to shut the fuck up and throwing his own words—words that had defined her for so long—back in his face, had been liberating. “Terrifying, too,” she added. But then, uncertain futures were always that.
“I understand.” Danbur mounted the stairs and sat two below her, his back to the wall, looking up at her.
She barked a wry laugh. “Do you?”
“He threatened you. You stood up to him. And now you’re scared of what he might do. And what that means for your daughter.”
“I take that back. You do get it.”
Danbur was silent for a moment. “She doesn’t know of him, does she?”
Opal shook her head. “She thinks he died.”
“And if he turns up here, demanding to see her? If he tries to take her?”
“Not happening. I’ll lop off both his hands if he so much as tries to touch her.”
“Where is he now?”
His inflectionless tone rang loud warning bells in her head. “I don’t know,” she said, which was the truth because he might be in Dallas, dabbling in his daddy’s industrial equipment company while plotting his mayoral campaign, or he might be heading her way with ruining her life all over again on his mind.
“Tell me and I will kill him.”
Her jaw dropped. She closed her mouth, swallowed, and finally managed, “Isn’t that a little… extreme?”
“After what he did to you, I think not.”
Her throat tightened, vocal chords constricting until it was difficult to swallow let alone speak. “H-H-How did y-y-you know?” Dammit, the stutter was back.
“I know you intimately, Opal.”
Heavy emphasis on the word “intimate”. She shivered, remembering that night with him, how he’d touched her body and her heart. How he’d loved her.
She gazed into his intent blue eyes and knew he would do it—kill for her if she gave the word. And, God help her, it was tempting. She even toyed with ringing Rick’s office and telling him about Sera, luring him here, and then letting Danbur take him out of the picture. It would solve a whole lot of problems, she knew. And that temptation was so seductive that she could all too easily imagine herself becoming a willing accomplice to murder if that was what it took to protect Sera from the truth.
Murder. God. What kind of woman had she become?
“Y-Y-You need to g-g-go,” she told him. “S-S-Stay away f-f-from me. A-A-And Sera. W-W-Whatever happens, s-s-stay away. A-A-And that m-m-means her b-b-birthday party, too.” A clean break. It would be best for all of them.
He stood. Stared down at her for one long moment. And then he descended the stairs and let himself out of the house.
~~~
Danbur came upon Pieter slumped in a chair in the living room. A shallow bowl filled with water sat on the small side table beside him. The sorcerer’s eyes were closed, and without the distraction of those ancient eyes that demanded people see only what Pieter wanted them to see, Danbur noticed the deep lines etched into his face. Exhaustion radiated from him. He looked sick and at least a decade older.
He still hadn’t noticed Danbur’s presence, and that in itself was a concern. And then, before Danbur could speak, Pieter shifted and gave a low moan of pain.
“Gods above and below, what has happened to you?” Danbur asked.
Pieter’s eyelids fluttered and he opened his eyes.
“Do not,” Danbur said, meeting the sorcerer’s gaze, “try to blind me to the truth. Tell me what happened.”
Pieter laughed mirthlessly. “My goddess saw fit to remind me of the consequences for meddling.” He waved a hand that shook. “It is nothing to concern you. I will heal—as I always do.”
“You must cease your meddling. There is nothing to be done.”
“I know.”
Danbur took the seat opposite him. “You were spying again.”
“Scrying, you mean.”
He shrugged. Were they not one and the same? “You know about the phone call—his threats.”
Pieter nodded.
“Then I would ask a boon of you before I am taken.”
Danbur had the distinct feeling the old man knew exactly what he was about to ask, but Pieter only said, “If it is within my power I will grant it to you.”
“Tell me where this man can be found. Better still, take me to him now so I can kill him. Please do this one small thing for me, Pieter, so I can go to the crystal knowing that the woman and child I love will be safe.”
The sigh that eked from Pieter’s lips was long and weighted with the answer Danbur didn’t wish to hear. “You ask a boon I cannot grant. My goddess has bound me with harsh strictures that prevent me helping you further. She has already taken some of Opal’s memories and I dare not provoke her into taking more. I’m truly sorry.”
“Then perhaps, Crystal Guardian, once I am gone you might do whatever is in your power to protect Opal and Sera from this man.”
Pieter inclined his head. “That I can do. And I vow to you, Crystal Warrior, that though I am forbidden to directly raise a hand to him, one way or another I will see Richard Windsor punished for his crimes.”
Chapter Nineteen
“Mommy, when’s Dan getting here? He’s missing the cake!”
Opal inwardly cringed. Sera was on the brink of tears now and soon there would be consoling her.
Peter had arrived two hours ago bearing the cake Danbur had helped Sera bake and decorate. The old man had a ready excuse to give the birthday girl for Danbur’s absence—he was finishing up some errands for Max, and “should be along later”. It was an excellent excuse, considering Max had stayed to supervise goings on at the shelter so that Mickey could attend the party. And Danbur might well be at the shelter right now, helping Max with his chores. But Peter had been looking right at Opal when he gave the explanation. And they both knew Danbur wouldn’t be making an appearance because Opal had told him to stay away.
She’d thought it would make things easier on all of them. A clean break was always easier, right? But dammit, she miss
ed him. She’d gotten the impression he’d never been to a little girl’s party before, and she kept picturing how he’d react to Sera opening her gifts, blowing out her candles, making a wish, cutting into the cake Danbur had helped bake and decorate….
Perhaps he’d sling his arm about Opal’s waist and kiss her on the lips, hard, as Roth had done to Desiree. And, like Desiree, Opal would make a token protest—maybe even smack Danbur’s arm, but she’d have a silly grin on her face. And she wouldn’t be able to stop touching him every chance she had.
No. Instead of making things easier, Danbur’s absence only made everything harder. And Opal should have known Sera wouldn’t be distracted for long by the fuss the adults were making of her. Not even Annie and Conrad’s wonderful gift of an iPod preloaded with all of Sera’s favorite songs could distract Sera for long when it came to missing the man she adored.
Opal bent to give Sera a hug. “Sweetie, I’m r-r-really s-s-sorry. B-B-But I know D-D-Danbur must have a… a… g-g-good reason for n-n-not showing.” And wasn’t that the truth?
Sera opened her mouth and Opal braced herself, but she was reprieved by the shrill of the doorbell. Thank you, God. He’d ignored her and turned up after all.
Sera seemed to come to a similar conclusion for her face lit up. “Dan’s here!” she cried, and raced to the front door.
Opal ducked her head, and thought about beating a hasty retreat so as not to seem too pathetically eager. Surely some of the guests needed a refill of pink lemonade and—
“You’re not Dan.”
Opal’s head jerked up. Her gaze arrowed to the suit-clad man silhouetted in the doorway… and it was like someone had flash-frozen her because she couldn’t move.
Rick Windsor. In the flesh. Here, at her home.
His ginger hair had grayed at the temples. And he was thicker around the middle. But his eyes were still that cold, cold blue. She’d once thought them compelling. Now she recognized them for what they were. Windows to his shriveled soul.
He wasn’t looking at her—seemed not to have noticed her standing paralyzed in the shadows. His focus was all for the unhappy little girl standing in front of him. “Well, hello there, precious,” he said. “Aren’t you a surprise?”
He knew Sera was his child. God help her, he knew. But Opal still couldn’t make her limbs move, couldn’t loosen the constriction in her throat enough to speak. She could only observe, stricken, as Sera said, “Who are you?” and Rick hitched his expensive pants and crouched to introduce himself.
“I’m Rick. What’s your name, precious?”
“I’m not allowed to talk to strangers,” Sera said.
“Oh, I’m not a stranger.” Rick smiled the warm, wide, utterly charming, utterly false smile that had first attracted Opal to him. “Your mommy and I go way back. She won’t mind you telling me your name.”
Sera seemed to think hard for a moment. And then she said, “Seraphine.”
“Seraphine. That’s a pretty name. Well, Seraphine, I guess your mommy hasn’t mentioned me at all, has she?”
Sera shook her head.
“That’s very naughty of her.”
God, he was playing with Sera. Drawing out the moment. Enjoying himself. Bastard. Bastard! Why couldn’t she move? Why couldn’t she speak? What was wrong with her?
“Why?” Sera asked.
“Because, precious, I’m your daddy.” And then he grabbed Sera’s hand and tugged her toward him to envelop her in a hug like he had every right to do so.
Opal heard screaming. Sera’s. Hers. Released from her stasis she lunged for her daughter, yanking her from Rick’s arms. And then there was chaos, and jostling, and arms around her and Sera, and voices demanding to know what was wrong, who the man standing at the door was, and what he’d done.
She couldn’t answer them. The blood-curdling shriek she’d loosed had broken something inside her. Nor could she soothe Sera, who was crying that her daddy was dead and Rick couldn’t be her daddy and she didn’t like him and she wanted him to go and why wasn’t Dan here and why couldn’t Dan be her daddy? And Opal didn’t have the strength to resist as Sera tore from her arms and ran upstairs to shut herself in her room.
Opal was shaking—so much she could barely stay upright. And if not for Annie and Mickey supporting her beneath the elbows, she would have collapsed in a heap on the floor.
Somehow Peter calmed everyone down. And then, to Opal’s amazement, she heard him tell Rick, “You’re not welcome here, Mr. Windsor. Get off the property now.”
“I don’t who you think you—”
“I didn’t give you permission to think. I told you to get off the property. Now. Before I have my friend Mr. North, here, file a restraining order against you.”
“Are you threatening me?” Rick sounded so surprised that in any other circumstances Opal would have laughed.
“It’s not a threat,” she heard Conrad growl. “It’s a promise.”
“Seraphine is my daughter. I have rights—”
“You have none,” Peter said. “You gave up all rights when you drugged and raped her mother.”
“God.” Annie gave a choked sob and buried her face in Opal’s shoulder. “God,” she whispered again, sounding as hollow and gutted and devastated as Opal felt. Mickey didn’t say a word but she clutched Opal’s hand so tightly it hurt. And that was good, helpful, because the pain of her bones grinding together helped Opal crawl back from the mire of despair and start to function again.
And then she heard Desiree say, “Roth, you’re a doctor. You know how to really hurt people, don’t you?”
“Sure do, babe,” Roth said. “Where do you want me to hit you first, Gingerbread Man?”
“Fine,” Rick said, and Opal could hear the sneer in his voice. “Fine. I know when I’m not welcome.” He raised his voice to say, “But this isn’t over, Jordan.”
He had seen her. He’d known all along she was there. And Opal knew she couldn’t let his last impression be of a weak, broken woman who couldn’t stand without aid.
She shook off Annie and Desiree’s hands. On her own two feet she walked to the doorway and looked Rick right in the eye. “M-M-My name is Opal. And y-y-you will n-n-never touch S-S-Sera again. S-S-Stay away from h-h-her. Or y-y-your c-c-campaign for m-m-mayor will b-b-be over b-b-before it’s b-b-begun.”
She should have felt immensely satisfied when he turned on his heel and stalked down the path, and out onto the street. When he got into his luxury rental and peeled rubber in his haste to leave, she should have felt pride that she’d won this round. But all she felt was emptiness.
She made herself watch until his car vanished in the distance. And then, without a word to her guests, she climbed the stairs to Sera’s room.
~~~
Opal noticed the bluish shadows of sleeplessness under Sera’s eyes the next morning. No surprises there. She’d crawled into Opal’s bed for a cuddle sometime around three. But the suggestion that Sera might want to stay home today was met with a firm shake of the head.
“I’m going to school, Mommy. I want to show Greg my mobile phone. He’s got one like mine and it’s got lots of cool stuff. He can show me how to get cool stuff for mine, too.” Before Opal could caution her Sera added, “I won’t get into trouble. We’ll only take them out of our bags at break.”
“Okay.”
“I’ll text you when I get to school. And then when I get to Peter’s, too. I’ve already got your mobile number in my contacts.”
“Okay.”
Sera cocked her head to the side and gnawed her lip. “Please don’t be sad, Mommy. I’m not angry anymore. I understand why you didn’t tell me about him. He’s not a nice man, is he?”
“No.”
“I wouldn’t want to go live with him. He scares me.”
“M-M-Me, too.”
“I won’t have to go live with him, will I? When Conrad came upstairs to check on me he said I wouldn’t ever have to.”
“No. N-N-Never.”
<
br /> And Sera smiled her sweet smile and said, “I love you, Mommy.” And Opal dared to believe that things would be okay.
She spent the rest of the day closeted with Emilie and Magda, going over the launch schedule and the myriad other things that Emilie insisted needed doing. And it wasn’t until she was taking a very late lunch in the break room that she realized Sera should have texted by now to say she’d arrived at Peter’s.
She fished her mobile from her handbag and nearly dropped it in surprise when it rang. “Hello?”
“Opal, it’s Peter. Sera wasn’t on the bus. I called the school. One of the teachers said her father picked her up outside school. The man’s description fits Richard Windsor. I don’t know how he—”
Opal cut off the call. As she rushed from the break room she ran into Emilie—literally. “Whoa.” Emilie crouched to pick up the files she’d dropped. “What’s up, Opal?”
“Sera. Emergency.” Emilie called something after her but Opal paid no mind.
Outside, she hailed a cab by the simple expedient of stepping into the street and forcing the vehicle to either stop or run her down. “My d-d-daughter… emergency,” she told the driver. “M-M-Manayunk.”
She must have looked frantic, for he didn’t give her any grief and took off like a bat out of hell the instant she closed the rear door.
She could feel her throat tightening, her airways constricting. No way was she going to manage saying her street number. She typed her full street address into a new text message and leaned forward to show the screen to the driver when he paused at the next set of lights.
He craned his neck and nodded. “Got it. Just you sit tight, ma’am. I’ll get you there soon as humanly possible.”
Opal texted Sera’s mobile. No response. She rang the number but it went straight to voice mail—a message Sera had recorded earlier at school with lots of shrieking and playground noise in the background. She stared at her phone, trying not to cry, trying not to lose it when Sera needed her to be strong.
“Ma’am, we’re here.” The driver didn’t even blink when she threw some cash at him and leaped from the cab… only to stumble on the curb and be scooped up before she face-planted.
Opal's Wish: Book Four of The Crystal Warriors Series Page 29