by Ciana Stone
Ida continued to urge Grace to go to the Legacy family for answers. If not Beau, then maybe John Luke. Grace had thought about doing that all week, but she wasn’t ready to face Beau. She’d not taken any of his calls this last week. She had responded via text that she needed some time and would be in touch.
It wasn’t the formula and her lack of success in replicating it that had her avoiding Beau. It was the kiss. She couldn’t stop thinking about it. And about what he said.
God help her, but she wanted it to be true. She wanted to run right into his arms and stay there forever. But it wasn’t that easy. Already, the attorney she’d hired was costing her far more than she could afford. Tad wanted to fight her on every issue, most importantly for custody of the children.
That wasn’t negotiable as far as Grace was concerned. He’d not been a caring or an attentive father before she left him. There was no reason to believe he would be now, and she wouldn’t allow her children to be neglected. She wanted sole custody with supervised visits.
Tad had his back up over that, and Grace didn’t understand why. He’d never wanted to be bothered by the children. Why would he even want them around? Whatever the answer, she’d fight him to her dying breath over that.
The fight with Tad made Beau’s professions of love even more tempting. That was what concerned her. Did she want to run to Beau because she still loved him or because she needed a man to hold her up or protect her? Did she want Beau for himself or because she knew he was rich enough to help her get what she wanted from Tad?
Were her feelings pure or was she just a needy woman in a desperate situation? Until she knew, she couldn’t see Beau. He might have hurt her once, but she’d hurt him as well, and she wouldn’t do that again. It wasn’t fair to either of them.
As if prompted by her thoughts, her phone rang. She looked at it, lying on the counter in the shop. Beau. She hesitated and then reached for it.
“Hey.”
“Wow, you answered.”
“I did.”
“How are you?”
“Perplexed, frustrated, and at my wit's end.”
“Tad?”
“Oh, no. Well, yes, but that’s to be expected. It’s about that formula my dad made for your mother. I need to talk to you or one of your brothers about it.”
“I’m about to leave for the day. How long are you going to be at the shop?”
“A while. Mama picked up the kids from school, and they’re headed over to the festival at the lake. It kicks off this evening, you know.”
“I’d forgotten. If you’re going to be there for a while, I’ll walk over.”
“Okay. See you in a bit. Bye.”
Grace walked outside and sat down on the bench in front of the store, her gaze focused down the block, in the direction of the Legacy building.
It wasn’t long before the front door of the building opened, and Beau stepped out onto the sidewalk. Even from this distance, as his gaze connected with hers, Grace’s breath caught in her throat.
Lord love a duck. She was one hundred percent certain she’d never seen anything sexier in her life that Beau Legacy walking toward her. Those eyes. That lean, muscular body and those eyes. Oh damn.
Her ship was sinking around her, pulling her down with it into the depths of yearning the likes of which she’d never known and didn’t know how to fight. All she could do was sit there, watch, and want.
“Hey there, beautiful.” He stopped in front of her, smiled, and extended his hand to her.
“Hey yourself.” Grace put her hand in his and let him pull her to her feet. For a moment, they merely looked at one another. Then she pulled her hand free. “Let’s go inside.”
“After you.”
She waited for him to enter, closed and locked the door, then pulled the shade. “Let’s go in the back.”
He didn’t comment; he just gestured for her to lead the way. Grace chose the small kitchen rather than her father’s work area. In the kitchen were a small table, a loveseat, coffee table, a counter with a sink, a small refrigerator, a two-burner stovetop, and a coffee maker.
Grace sat on the loveseat and patted the space beside her. Beau sat beside her. “You wanted to talk about that tincture your dad made?”
“I did. I know the formula, but it doesn’t make sense.”
“You know the formula?”
“I do.”
“So you can make it?”
“No.”
“Hold on, I thought—“
“I said I know what he wrote down, but it doesn’t make sense.”
“Why?”
“Because there are two ingredients I can’t figure out. One is Bog Lily. I searched every known species of Lily and couldn’t find anything that seemed to fit. The other thing is Dragon’s Blood.”
She saw the way Beau’s posture stiffened at her words. “Does that mean something to you? Dragon’s Blood?”
“Why should it?”
“I don’t know, that’s why I’m asking. Everything about this formula seems off. I don’t know how to explain it.” Grace told him about the card with the formula written on it and her father’s instructions to destroy it. She also told him about her mother’s insistence that she speak with Beau or someone in his family about what that tincture was really for.
“So?” She asked when she finished her tale.
“So what?”
“So, what is this really for and why did it make you so nervous when I asked about Dragon’s Blood?”
Beau’s gaze slid away from hers as he answered. “For allergies is what I was told and I don’t know anything about Dragon’s Blood. Sounds like—like something out of a fairytale.”
Grace didn’t comment. She’d known Beau almost her whole life, and until now, she’d never known him to tell a bald-faced lie. The question was, why now? She sat there, watching and waiting, and finally his gaze returned to her.
“Beau, what is it really for?”
“I told you—“
“A lie. A straight out, to my face lie.”
“I didn’t—“
“No, I’m sorry, you’re right. You couldn’t meet my eyes with that lie, could you? Fine. Thanks for stopping by, Beau. You can go now.”
“Grace, I—“
“’Bye, Beau.”
Grace didn’t know what to expect, but she did know that if he was going to lie about something as innocuous as a tincture then her slim hopes that she and Beau might have future were nothing but a silly dream.
He looked at her for a moment, then got to his feet. He opened his mouth as if to speak, then shook his head and walked out of the room.
Well, there you go. It felt a little like being run over by a truck, the way it slammed into her and the hurt threatened to make her cry, but she refused to give into it. She and Beau had never been anything but a dream.
“Look, I just don’t have a clue how to tell you.” His voice startled her. Beau stood in the doorway, watching.
“Just say it.”
He crossed the room and sat beside her. “You might think I’m crazy.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time.”
“Funny, but I’m serious.”
“Well, try me.”
“Fine.” He pressed his lips together and lowered his head for a moment. When he looked at her, she could see the strain on his face.
“When we were kids, my mother made us all take that stuff and even when we went away to college; she’d send it to us. One time I stopped taking it, and after three days, I started feeling…weird. I don’t know how else to describe it. It was like my skin was crawling and my head buzzed. I thought it was the onset of some kind of bad allergic reaction, so I started taking the stuff again and never stopped.
“Until last year.”
When he looked away again and did not continue for a long time, she put her hand on his arm. “Why did you stop last year?”
Beau looked at her, and for the first time ever she saw fear on his face. It
scared her, and her hand tightened on his arm. “You can trust me, Beau.”
“Can I?”
“Yes. Always.”
“We’ll see.” He nodded, chewed on his bottom lip for a second, and then started to talk.
“A year ago, Logan James found Sabine—his wife. She was given to our mother when she was a baby and loved Logan from the moment she first laid eyes on him. He was seven when she came to live with us. She followed him around for years, eight to be exact, and then something happened. Kids were murdered. Logan was there. Sabine too. He would have been killed if she hadn’t been there. She protected him, and for that, she was banished.”
“An eight-year-old girl protected a fifteen-year-old boy?”
“No, an eight-year-old angel.”
Grace tried to scoff or laugh, but the look on Beau’s face kept anything from emerging from her mouth. “An…an angel?”
“An angel. Sabine is an Angel. Logan found her once when she was grown and fell in love with her, but my mother’s family took her away, tortured her, and threatened to kill her and Logan if she didn’t stay away from him.”
“That’s crazy. I mean I guess you think she’s really special and she obviously helped your brother, so you’re calling her an Angel but—“
“No, she’s a real Angel. Wings and everything.”
“That’s insane—“
“See, I told you.”
Despite feeling like she’d fallen into some twisted dream, Grace bit her tongue. “Okay, for the sake of argument, let’s say I believe this. That doesn’t explain the tincture.”
“I was getting to that. Once Sabine and Logan got together, she helped him realize what he—what our whole family is.”
“What…what you are?”
“Yeah.”
“As in illegal aliens or—“
“Kind of. We’re Shifters.”
“You’re what?”
“Shifters. It’s—“
“Like in fantasy or paranormal fiction? People who turn into wolves or bears or—“
“Yes.”
Grace had no clue what kind of game Beau was playing with her, but she didn’t like it one bit. “Okay, fine. Thanks for sharing. You can go now.”
“I’m telling you—“
“Yeah, right. Leave, Beau. Go home.”
“Grace, I’m telling you the—“
Anger had her acting without thinking. Her hand impacted with the side of his face in a stinging slap. “Get out!”
Beau stood, glared at her, and then marched out of the room. Grace leaned back, put her hand over her face, and groaned. What the hell?
“No.” There he was again. At the door.
“No, what?”
“No. I’m not leaving, and no, I’m not telling a lie.”
“I don’t want to hear—“ She stopped in mid-sentence, shocked to see him removing his clothes. “What are you doing?”
“You’ll see.”
“Put your shirt back on. Beau, stop. Stop! No, don’t take off your pants. I mean it, Beau. Pull those pants—“
The next sound from her mouth was a scream.
Beau, the boy she’d loved her whole life, the man she’d just lusted over, was gone. He just—just warped and twisted in the blink of an eye and now he was gone.
In his place was a tiger. She could barely even form the thought, it was so unbelievable. But sure enough, a big tiger was headed straight for her. I’m dead. Thoughts of her children and her mother flew through her mind, along with strings of texts as if on newsprint: Mother of two dies in a freak tiger attack.
No, no, this couldn’t be real. This kind of thing wasn’t possible. And yet the tiger was getting closer. All she could do was huddle with her legs drawn up to her chest, her hands palm out in hopes of warding off the beast.
A squeak escaped her lips when the tiger stopped in front of the couch and licked one hand. Grace could barely breathe, the fear was so great. She was going to get mauled at any moment.
The beast climbed onto the couch and Grace bolted. She ran as fast as her legs would carry her to the front of the store. Under the counter, in a drawer, was a handgun. Her dad had always kept it there. She fumbled to open the drawer, jerked out the gun, and turned.
There it was. The tiger stopped, and suddenly the world went crazy again. Grace’s mind could barely make sense of what her eyes saw, but when the moment of insane distortion ended, there stood Beau. Naked.
She felt it coming—a rushing sound in her head and darkness pressing in her peripheral vision. “No. No.” Grace pushed back, willing herself to remain conscious. She dropped the gun and ran for the door, her hands shaking so bad she fumbled to open it. Once she had it unlocked and flung open, she ran out and didn’t stop running until she reached her mother’s home.
Out of breath and terrified, she hurried inside, calling to her children. There was no answer. Grace nearly panicked. Where were her kids? She felt for her phone and realized she’d left it in the shop.
As she raced for the landline in the kitchen, she remembered. Her mother was taking the kids to the opening of the festival at the lake. Oh, thank God. At least they were safe.
Grace stood there, hands propped on the countertop, chest heaving, and mind whirling. She didn’t know what to do. Was she losing her mind?
“Grace?”
Beau’s voice had her whirling around and a scream escaping. “Stay away from me.” She backed away, holding her hands in front of her. “I mean it. Stay away.”
“Grace, I won’t hurt you.”
“No.” She backed out of the kitchen through the entry to the dining room and then tore off to the stairs.
Beau caught her with one arm around her waist and pulled her off the stairs. She screamed, clawed at his arm and kicked. When the heck did he get this strong? He carried her with one arm and slung her down on the couch, climbed on top of her and pinned her arms over her head.
“Calm down.”
“Let go of me!” She struggled, bucking and twisting.
“Gracie, stop.”
Something in his voice had her body freezing in place despite her mind screaming for her to fight. Her breath came fast and shallow; fear had her nearly hyperventilating.
“You have to calm down.”
“Get off me.”
“Are you going to be calm and listen to me?”
“Get off me!” Her body finally responded, and she started struggling again. “Get off, get off, get off!”
“Stop it!” His voice was a roar, something not quite human. That scared her silent.
“Just let me explain.”
Grace couldn’t talk. All she could do was lie there, shaking with fear and feeling her heart pound like it was trying to hammer its way out of her chest.
“I shifted because…because I want you to know the truth. That formula was made to keep me, keep all of us from being able to shift, and now we believe something that your father used in its creation may be the key to saving a lot of—of Shifters.”
She wanted to process what he was telling her, wanted to feel something besides abject terror. She wanted to see the boy she’d grown up with and loved, but all she could see was the “thing” that had warped itself from a man to a tiger and back again.
“P—pl—please leave,” she managed to stammer.
Beau’s gaze sought hers, but she looked away. After a moment, he got up and stepped back from the sofa. She pushed herself into a sitting position and then stood. “Get out.”
“Grace.”
“No. Leave this house and don’t come back. Not ever.”
“Grace.”
“Leave!” Grace managed to summon enough courage to scream.
An expression of hurt came on Beau’s face. Grace recognized it and somewhere deep inside she felt bad about it, but that emotion was buried too deep beneath shock and fear to surface.
He looked at her for a second and then turned away. Grace didn’t move until she heard the door clos
e and then she raced to lock it. After checking every lock in the house, she sat down at the kitchen table and stared through the window.
Grace had no realization of time or its passage. Her mind was a prisoner of the thoughts replaying over and over. Beau becoming a tiger. The tiger becoming a man. The formula her father made. Had he known what it was for? Did her mother? How was any of this possible?
Maybe it wasn’t. Maybe she’d lost her mind.
In a weird way, that would be preferable to the alternative. That it was real. Because if it was, then the world wasn’t at all what she’d believed and she didn’t have a clue how to protect her children from creatures like that.
Or how to accept that the man she loved wasn’t a man at all, but something that terrified her.
Chapter Fifteen
“No.” Beau crossed his arms and glared at his brother.
“We have to—“
“I said no. You didn’t see her, John Luke. She was terrified and I mean, white as a ghost, shaking and looking at me like I was a monster.”
“Which is why we need to make her see that we’re not monsters,” Ily argued in a gentle tone.
“Don’t do that.” Beau’s tone was cross. “Don’t try and get inside my head. I’m telling you both to leave Grace alone. Please. I did enough damage letting her see me shift.”
He groaned and turned his back on John Luke and Ily to stare out of the window of the family home. Even now he could see Grace’s face, the horror on it. Horror. That’s what she felt when she looked at him.
He’d lost her because of what he was.
“You haven’t lost her.” Ily argued and held up both hands in a placating manner when he turned toward her. “Just hear me out. We all know the kind of shock that goes with finding out you’re not like everyone else. That you’re a Scythe like me or in your case, one of the Kindred, a hybrid breed of Human and Seven. It’s difficult. It’s the same for her. She needs time to process it, yes, but she also needs to see that we’re—that you’re not a monster. That you’re still the same man.”
“She won’t let me within a hundred feet of her. Seriously,” he added when she gave him a skeptical look. “The other day I was walking by her shop on my way to the barber and she was coming out of the door. When she saw me, she bolted back inside, slammed the door, and pulled the shade.”