by R. D. Brady
Heart pounding, Laney jumped over the divider, half skidding, half running down the hill toward the car as the dispatcher answered.
Cell phone to her ear, Laney yelled their location to the dispatcher. “The car’s on fire. Hurry.” She disconnected the call and shoved the phone in her pocket.
Flames had already engulfed the rear of the wagon, giving her plenty of light to see. As she made her way to the driver’s door, her breath hitched. The door had been smashed halfway through the driver’s seat. Adding insult to injury, a tree branch had crashed through the windshield, impaling the driver. No need to check for a pulse. The man was beyond anyone’s help.
Breathing hard and shaking, Laney heard a moan from the backseat. Someone else is in there.
“I’m coming!” Laney yelled, rounding the hood. She fought the brush around the car to reach the passenger door, coughing as the smoke from the back of the car hit her, all the while keeping an eye on the flames at the rear of the car, which were steadily growing.
Eyes beginning to tear, Laney peered in. The woman appeared to be in her late twenties. And she was pregnant—very pregnant.
The woman’s terrified eyes met hers. “Help us,” she cried.
Her heart in her throat, Laney yanked on the door. It wouldn’t budge.
The heat of the fire increased, and sweat beaded on Laney’s forehead. She unrolled her turtleneck, pulling the fabric over her mouth. The smoke still got through, sending her into a fit of coughing.
Tears streaming down her cheeks, Laney yanked at the door. Oh, come on. Come on!
Planting her feet in the dirt, she pulled with all of her strength. The door swung back, throwing her to the ground. She scrambled on her hands and knees back to the door.
The wind shifted, and Laney took in a face full of smoke that almost set her convulsing. Coughing violently, she used the doorframe to pull herself up, and stood, swaying, in the open door.
Eyes stinging, she reached over the woman to loosen her seatbelt, feeling the heat of the encroaching flames. “You’re going to be okay,” Laney choked out.
The woman was barely conscious, her eyes closed. “Baby, save my baby,” the woman mumbled.
“I’m getting you both out.” Laney said, hoping she wasn’t lying. She darted another glance at the flames creeping over the back of the car. The fire was getting way too close to the gas tank for comfort.
The woman’s seat belt miraculously came undone easily. Draping the woman’s arms over her shoulders, Laney braced herself and pulled the woman from the seat. An extra tug and the woman’s feet were free. Once she had the woman upright out of the car, Laney turned her so that she could drag her from under the arms.
With a groan, Laney pulled, continually darting glances toward the fast moving flames. She could hear sirens in the distance. But they wouldn’t get here in time.
Laney struggled to move faster. Her chest ached from the smoke and she couldn’t see for tears. Her legs backed into a fallen tree and she tripped over it, the woman landing heavily on top of her. With a grunt, Laney untangled herself and pulled the woman over the log, careful to protect the woman’s stomach.
Wiping the tears from her eyes, she looked back at the burning car—just in time to see the flames reach the gas tank.
Laney threw herself over the woman as the car exploded.
CHAPTER 40
Rockland, Maine
“That’s how you met Kati?” Henry asked, his eyes wide.
Laney nodded. “She and her husband had moved to town only a month before. She didn’t really know anyone, and her parents lived across the country, and neither was in good health. I checked in on her every day, and before I knew it, I was helping raise Max.”
Silence descended. Laney looked around. “What?”
Henry gave a little laugh. “You don’t even see it, do you? You go above and beyond and think nothing of it.”
Laney shook her head. “Anybody would have done what I did.”
Patrick took her hand, giving her a kiss on the cheek. “No, honey, they wouldn’t have. But I love that you think they would.”
Laney could feel the blush spreading across her cheeks. “Okay. But that happened four years ago. The other two events were in the last year.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Victoria said. “Saving Kati and Max, that was the trial by fire. Your actions that night set everything else in motion.”
Laney sat back, stunned, a chill running through her. Four years before she’d even met Jake or Henry, she’d already been on the path. For some reason, that thought terrified her.
“And you’re sure that was the trial by fire?” Jake asked.
Victoria nodded. “Yes. Laney faced the fire and saved two innocent lives in the process. I’d say that meets the requirements. There’s no doubt. Laney is the ring bearer.”
CHAPTER 41
Laney ran her hands through her hair as she walked through Victoria’s house.
Victoria had decided to end their little chat about her destiny. Apparently, she thought that convincing Laney she was destined to bear the ring that would control the Fallen—and, by extension, make her target for every single one of them—was enough of a bombshell for one afternoon.
She wasn’t wrong.
Laney wandered into the kitchen and came to a stop. Ralph stood at the stove, stirring a large pot of sauce. The scent of something Italian and really good filled the room.
“That smells delicious,” Laney said.
Ralph put down his spoon with a smile, wiping his hands on a towel. He walked toward her, his hand extended. “We haven’t officially met. I’m Ralph.”
Laney shook his hand, feeling the strength in his grip. “Hi Ralph.”
He gestured to the island where a tray of antipasto stood. “Are you hungry?”
“Not really.” Laney glanced out the French doors to the giant garden that stretched as far as she could see. That was her destination, yet somehow she found herself pulling out a chair at the island.
Ralph poured her a glass of iced tea before heading back to his sauce.
“Thanks. Um, how long have you worked for . . .” The words died in her mouth. What was she supposed to say? Victoria? Mom?
Ralph didn’t seem to notice. “Thirty-two years.”
Laney looked up in surprise. “That means . . .”
Ralph stopped stirring and looked at her. “Yes. I was here when your mother was pregnant with you. I was here when she made the decision to protect you.”
Not “give you away”—protect you. Laney wanted to ask him questions. She just wasn’t sure where to start.
“How— Did she—” she started and then stopped. “I don’t even know what to ask.”
Ralph gave her a smile, turning to lean back against the counter. “It wasn’t an easy time for her. It was right after James died when she learned she was pregnant.”
Laney struggled again against the rush of sympathy she felt for Victoria in that situation. Kati’s words came back to her: She put your happiness before hers. To me, that sounds like a mom.
Unaware of Laney’s thoughts, Ralph continued. “Laney, I know it’s not my place. But you need to know: giving you away was the hardest thing she’s ever done. And after all she’s been through, that’s saying something. I know you don’t trust her, but if you could at least believe that, it might be a good start.” He paused. “Can you wait here for a second?”
Laney nodded.
Ralph stood up, walking into the pantry just off the kitchen. He reappeared seconds later, a large album in his hands. “She’d be mad if she knew I was showing you this. But you need to know, she never forgot you.” Handing Laney the album, he walked back to the stove.
Laney planned on taking it outside, but her curiosity had her flipping it open right away. On the first page was a baby picture; then a picture of Victoria holding a newborn. Below those was a picture of her and her parents in the hospital. Her eyes flew to Ralph in shock.
He nodded. “She had a nurse take the picture.”
The next few pages were pictures of Laney over the first few years of her life, all taken from a distance. Victoria had watched her grow up from afar. As Laney turned each page, her incredulity grew.
When she flipped to the next page, she went still. There was Laney, no more than three, with her arms wrapped around the neck of boy who looked to be about eight years old. At first she didn’t recognize him. But his violet eyes gave him away. “I met Henry?”
Ralph came to sit next to her. “After your third birthday, it was really tough for Victoria. She saw the pictures of you that the private investigator sent, but she needed to know you were okay. She arranged to be at the playground where your parents took you on Saturdays.”
“The playground at the elementary school, down the street from my house,” Laney said, remembering the spot. They had a giant slide, monkey bars, a big metal spider, and a ton of other toys. Laney had loved going there.
Ralph smiled. “I was with them. You and Henry ended up on the slide together. You tripped getting off. Henry helped you up. And that was it. You two were inseparable for the next few hours. Your parents and Victoria even laughed about how much you two took to one another. Your parents ended up inviting Victoria and Henry over for lunch. Your mother—I mean, Victoria—she looked like she was trying to memorize the day, so she didn’t forget a moment.”
Laney traced the picture. “I wish I could remember that.”
“You were too young. But Victoria could see how much your parents loved you and how much you loved them.”
“So it worked? She felt better?”
Ralph shrugged. “Yes and no. She knew you were fine. That eased her mind. But seeing you . . . it made it harder for her. You were sweet, feisty, and just plain happy. All in all, a pretty amazing kid. So she decided to stop having you followed. After being around you, it was too difficult for her to watch you and not be a part of your life.”
Laney flipped to the next page, and there was a picture of Laney, ten years old. Her father’s brother and wife were walking behind her. Laney gasped, her eyes flying to Ralph. “She knew about them?”
Ralph covered her hand with his. “No. She found out about your parents’ death almost a full year after it. She just wanted to check, make sure you were okay. The private investigator told her about the hospital visits. Victoria was actually arranging to get you out of there when your uncle arrived. And then she didn’t have to rescue you, because he did. When she found out he was petitioning the church to allow him to adopt you, she even exerted some pressure to make that happen.”
Laney was astounded. “She did?”
Ralph nodded. “Victoria has a lot of influence. And she’s always been there, Laney, behind the scenes, looking out for you where she could.”
Laney flipped through the remaining pages. There were shots of her from age ten until just a few months ago.
Ralph nodded toward the album. “After the incident with your other uncle, she made sure she had constant updates on your well-being. Painful as it was for her, she wouldn’t chance your safety again.”
Laney flipped to the last page. A picture of Laney, Henry, and Jake from a month ago looked back at her. They had gone out to dinner. The three of them were laughing. Laney felt tears in her eyes. God, she’d turned into a leaky faucet.
She closed the album, pushing it toward Ralph. She felt shaky, not sure what to think of Victoria now. “Thank you for showing this to me. Is it okay if I wander through the garden?”
Ralph took the album and stood. “Sure. It’s Victoria’s pride and joy.”
Laney wandered out the back door into Victoria’s garden. Ralph’s words and the pictures added to the rest of the noise in her mind. Victoria had kept tabs on her. She had cared.
Laney walked down the path, needing a little time to herself. Time to take in everything and assure herself that she wasn’t going crazy. That everything was actually happening to her.
Spying a path cutting to the left, she followed it. She climbed a short hill and looked down. A grave sat in the middle of a beautiful garden, a garden even more beautiful than the one she’d just walked through.
In her heart, Laney knew this was her parents’ daughter’s grave. She felt a tug on her heart. What did that make her to Laney? A sister? A stranger?
Walking to the grave, Laney knelt down and read the inscription. She traced the name. “Hi, Sarah. I’m Laney,” she whispered.
Laney looked around. Victoria had taken care of the child. That made her feel better. The little girl who had never had a chance to live had been well taken care of for the last thirty years. Laney bowed her head, saying a prayer for the little girl’s soul. She stood and turned. Her uncle stood only six feet away.
He gestured to the iron bench under the Rose-of-Sharon tree. “Is it okay if I join you?”
Laney nodded, not really sure what to say. She felt almost guilty for being here, as if she was intruding.
They sat down and an awkward silence descended between them. Laney struggled to figure out how to start the conversation. “So what do you—”
“How is—” Patrick said at the same time.
They both let out an embarrassed laugh.
Patrick took Laney’s hand. He nodded toward the tombstone. “Laney, none of this changes how I feel about you. You have always been my child. And biologically, you never were. So as far as I’m concerned, you’re still mine. And you always will be. I love you. Nothing can change that.”
She leaned her head on his shoulder. “I love you too, Uncle Patrick.”
They stayed like that for a few minutes, and Laney felt her world tilt a little closer to normal. Her uncle was still her rock.
“So,” he said at last, “you want to tell me about these dreams?”
Laney sighed, pulling her head up from his shoulder. “It’s been since Las Vegas, since we recovered the Shuars’ treasure. I have these dreams about these women. All from different time periods.”
“Do you know them?”
She shrugged. “Some of them. Joan of Arc, Helen of Troy. Just today, I had one about the Queen of Sheba and her son.”
“Menelik?”
“You know him? Because I can’t remember hearing about him before.”
Patrick leaned back. “Menelik was the son of the Queen of Sheba and Solomon.”
That fit with her dream. “So I guess you have heard of him.”
Patrick smiled. “I wouldn’t be much a priest if I hadn’t.”
She shook her head. “I don’t understand.”
“According to legend, Solomon built the first temple in order to house a very critical object.”
Laney nodded. “Right. The Ark of the Covenant.”
“Menelik went to meet with his father for the first time when he was an adult. When he left, he allegedly took the Ark and brought it back to Ethiopia with him, where it’s said to rest, even now.”
Laney knew the Ark was alleged to be located in the Chapel of the Tablet in Aksum, Ethiopia. Although, now that she thought about it, no one but a single priest from the order was ever allowed near the Ark itself. “Do you believe that’s true?”
Patrick shrugged. “Who knows? The Ethiopian Orthodox Church dates back to the time of Solomon, and they’ve claimed since then to have the Ark. Besides, they’ve been guarding something for over three thousand years.”
Laney had seen pictures of the church. It was a very simple, non-elaborate church literally in the middle of nowhere. But the Ark was not the relic she was concerned with. “In my dream, Menelik brought two objects out with him.”
“The ring?”
Laney shrugged. “I don’t know. I never saw either object.”
“Hm,” Patrick murmured.
“Hm? What does that mean?”
“Well, there’s an interesting conundrum regarding the Ark and Solomon. It’s mentioned that the Ark was housed in the First Temple and then, all of a sudden, it’s
not mentioned. Not a word. No one says it disappeared, or that it was lost or stolen. It’s simply never written about again—at least, not in any writings that I’ve ever seen. The Ark just disappeared from the history books without a mention.”
“How come they think Menelik took it?”
“The rumors about it being housed in Ethiopia have been around forever. The original tale was written down in 1270 in the Kebra Nagast. Actually, Graham Hancock does a great job of tracking the tale of the Ark in The Seat of the Soul. You should read it. It’s a great book.”
“I’ll get right on that,” Laney said dryly.
Patrick gave a small laugh. “I suppose you won’t be curling up with a good book any time soon.”
“Probably not,” Laney agreed. “But what about the ring? Where is that mentioned?”
“Actually, it’s not. Not in the whole Bible. The only references to the ring of Solomon come from the Testament of Solomon, which people aren’t even sure is accurate. The Testament is usually dated to sometime between the first and fifth century AD, although it’s alleged to have been written by Solomon himself.”
“But that was a thousand years after Solomon’s death.”
“Exactly.”
Laney knew it wasn’t unusual for works to be copied multiple times, and for one of those copies to later on be considered the original. Or for them to be handed down orally before being put to paper. So it’s possible that the original was long lost to history, and only the copy dating to the first century still existed. “What does it say about the power of the ring?”
“It claims the wearer can control demons, as well as animals and the weather. But in the Testament, the demons are often grotesque animal-human hybrids.”
Laney felt her jaw drop. “You’re kidding, right?”
Patrick shook his head.
Laney closed her eyes and let out a breath. “Great. And we’re taking all of this on Victoria’s word?” She opened her eyes, glancing at Patrick. “How exactly does she know all these things? And why do we all believe her?”