by Gigi Moore
You are already being prepared to go back.
Yes, but they had neglected to tell him that they were sending him home as someone else and that he wasn’t going to be himself.
How in the hell was this place home?
From the brief glances he had gotten before he’d unceremoniously lost consciousness—how utterly embarrassing, a weakness he never would have countenanced from himself or anyone else in his former incarnation—he was somewhere back in time, the Old West if his observations were correct, worlds and decades away from his twenty-first century origins.
They hadn’t sent him home at all. They had sent him right back to the place where he had died. They had returned him to the site of his biggest ignominy. Why didn’t they just exile him to Elba as Napoleon’s enemies had done him? It would have been just as humiliating.
Leave it to the Malloys to ship him here in this dustbowl of a hell on earth. They didn’t want to give him a second chance. This entire trip was a pretense to hurt him, to get their revenge on him for hurting their sons, for killing Aura. Plain and simple he was being punished for his transgressions, when all he’d ever done in his life was use his ambition to achieve power, wealth, and respect—all the things he needed to protect himself from his enemies and make sure that no one could ever get close enough to hurt him again.
“We have to tell Clint and Kate, only I don’t know how.”
“That is going to be an interesting sit-down.”
What Prentice couldn’t understand was why Thayne Malloy treated him so nicely. Prentice had, after all, tried to kill him and his brother Cade. He had in fact killed their aunt, but in his defense, it was only after she’d gotten in his way and tried to block him from finding out where Thayne and Cade were. Who could fault him for that?
You are beginning your reincarnation in a very inauspicious way, Prentice.
That voice…it was her, Thayne and Cade’s mother.
Yes, it’s me. And I’m Brielle, since we were never properly introduced. My husband, Caith, and I are going to be watching over you until this is all over.
First name basis, huh? Nice touch. Not that it changed his mind about anything.
What, exactly, did Brielle mean by her cryptic message, though? Until what was all over?
Until you make things right.
The only way to make things right for Prentice would be getting his revenge on the people who had hurt him, and they—Brielle and Caith—had established that his plans for vengeance were what had gotten him in this mess in the first place. So, what were they giving him a second chance to do?
Haven’t you figured it out, yet, Prentice?
No, and his head started to hurt from the Who’s On First routine. His only escape, if he could call it that, was probably to open his eyes and deal with this Ethan situation.
Now you’re getting the picture.
The voice was male, deeper, booming and intensified his headache threefold.
What was he supposed to do now? Act like someone he wasn’t? Pretend to be something he wasn’t—some country bumpkin hick who didn’t have the sense enough not to get ambushed?
That’s harsh.
Harsh or not, it was true.
Besides, you won’t be acting or pretending. Just be yourself.
Be himself? That was a laugh.
Behave yourself, Prentice. We’ll be around.
“I think he’s coming around.”
Prentice blinked open his eyes and watched as the two men—Thayne and the other man he had called Kelly—stepped back from the table where they had been hovering over him.
He had managed to get on the long johns that had been left in the office before Thayne and Kelly had returned and would have gotten on the rest of the clothes and left if he hadn’t felt like he had just woken from a coma and hadn’t used his limbs in years.
Even now his arms and legs felt heavy and stiff, as if they didn’t belong to him.
Because they don’t belong to me!
Might as well stop crying over spilled milk and see what he was dealing with. The quicker he got out of here, the better for all concerned.
Prentice struggled to a sitting position.
Thayne stepped forward and put a hand on his back to steady him.
Prentice gritted his teeth at the man’s solicitousness. He didn’t know how much longer he was going to be able to take Thayne Malloy’s kindness before he exploded or lashed out.
He paused at the latter thought and flexed his psychic muscles, reaching out to see what he could sense and he…couldn’t sense anything! He couldn’t read Thayne’s or Kelly’s mind, not a hint or a morsel.
They’d taken away his powers!
You have all the powers you need for your purposes, Prentice.
“I thought you left me.”
Prentice watched Thayne and Kelly exchange wary looks and realized that he had said the last out loud when he’d only meant to respond to Brielle in his mind.
We will be around as required.
Great, just what he needed—a pair of meddlesome guardian angels.
“I’m sorry about running out before, Ethan, but, well…you scared the bejesus out of me.”
Prentice could just imagine.
Evidently this Ethan person had been killed and this Kelly person had been about to prepare his body for burial.
Had he woken up in the nick of time or what?
It seemed his guardian angels had a real vindictive sense of humor. It was a wonder they hadn’t just let these clowns bury him alive so that he could desperately claw himself out of his grave later.
What fun that would have been.
We did consider it.
“Why didn’t you just leave me where I was?”
“Out in the middle of nowhere to be crow’s bait?”
Prentice glanced at Kelly and realized that he had spoken his thoughts out loud again.
Hell, he needed to get a handle on this and real quick before these people had him committed and wouldn’t that just be poetic justice for Thayne and Cade?
Maybe that’s what Brielle and Caith wanted, him wasting away in some mental institution in the Old West, without his powers and at the mercy of their sons for his freedom.
We want only what’s best for you.
Yeah, he believed that one. Just like his parents had wanted the best for him by enrolling him in public school with all the thugs and lowlifes. Not that his existence had been any less tortured in an affluent private school. It had just seemed wherever he had gone, emotional pain and strife had followed. If he hadn’t gotten it from the stuck-up cheerleader types, then their jock brethren had made it their business to make sure his life had been a living hell.
Prentice could swear he heard a sigh at that, and it didn’t come from him or either of the men in the office with him.
Was Brielle fed up with him already? What would she do once she got mad? Send him back to the Summerland?
No, they wouldn’t do that because the Summerland was utopia, a paradise compared to earth. They probably figured he’d enjoy himself too much in the Summerland. They probably decided he didn’t deserve to be in the Summerland like most good and obedient Wiccans deserved to be.
Prentice sighed, closing his eyes and rubbing them with his thumb and forefinger. “I don’t know what I mean anymore,” he rasped.
“That’s perfectly understandable,” Thayne said.
“We’ll get you home to your momma and daddy where you belong.”
Prentice opened his eyes to stare at Thayne and Kelly. “Clint and Kate?”
“Well, yeah, that’s your momma and daddy,” Kelly said. “Don’t you remember them?”
“To tell you truth, I don’t remember much of anything.” Hell, he might as well go with the truth, at least some of it. No way in hell could he tell these men everything—that he wasn’t this Ethan guy who had been shot and killed, out in the middle of nowhere apparently.
There was so much he didn’t know abou
t Ethan. He didn’t know how old he was—though from the reflection in the mirror, he’d put him in his early twenties, almost ten years younger than Prentice had been when he was killed. He didn’t know Ethan’s last name, or who Ethan’s friends and enemies were.
The last point was the most troubling. He didn’t know who had killed Ethan and why, and that could be a nasty wrinkle for Prentice if this individual found out Ethan was still alive and kicking. Certainly that person would want to come back and finish the job, wouldn’t he?
Unfortunately, here Prentice was, in a marked man’s body, without his powers and not knowing who to keep an eye out for. He was, for all intents and purposes, a sitting duck and that would never do, not for a man like him who thrived on keeping control of all situations at all times.
He’d never been very trusting of anyone. Decades in school and business surrounded by impenetrable cliques and fake smiles and secret agendas had taught him that no one was his friend unless they wanted something from him, like a favor or money. Once he’d gotten to a point where he’d convinced himself that he didn’t need friends, especially at the cost of his self-respect, he’d worked on honing his powers and went on the offensive.
Prentice reached out again with his psychic fingers, straining to feel something from either Thayne or Kelly, but still he didn’t pick up anything. Conversely, he didn’t sense Thayne trying to read him, but then since Prentice didn’t seem to have his powers, he couldn’t possibly have sensed another telepath reading him as well as not being able to read a telepath.
This really was not a good situation.
He felt so naked and vulnerable…helpless. He did not like feeling powerless and not in control of his own destiny. It was one of the main reasons he had worked so hard to sharpen and strengthen his abilities once he’d uncovered them until eventually using them had been second nature.
Prentice stole a glance at Thayne to see if his expression had changed. If Thayne had read him and realized who he was, Prentice expected the man’s anger and revulsion. Thayne’s expression, however, remained as benevolent and calm as ever. Either he had a consummate poker face, or he hadn’t read Prentice.
Either way, he seemed comfortable in his own skin and at peace with himself. Was it because he was in love and married or had he always been like that? How did one reach that kind of Zen? Prentice had never been able to except when he was using his powers.
It was going to be a little difficult to go on the offensive, now that he thought about it, when he didn’t know who his opponent was though. No matter. He just wouldn’t trust anyone.
He’d just treat everyone like an enemy. He’d survived high school, college, and the corporate world as a loner and not trusting anyone. He’d certainly survive this.
* * * *
The Summerland
“I don’t think I like his frame of mind,” Caith said. “He seems to be regressing.” He averted his glance from the scene with Prentice, Thayne, and Kelly playing across the clear blue sky and looked at his wife sitting beside him in a lush, vibrant field of grass and violet-hued flowers. She looked wistful with her knees bent and arms wrapped around them. The purple of the hibiscuses and iris flowers in particular brought out the blue of her eyes. He drank in her beauty and thought of the two boys—now grown men—that they had left behind on earth.
“I had hoped after his encounters with Lucy and Isaiah that there was hope for him,” Brielle said.
“He did seem to show a capacity for compassion with the woman and the boy.” Caith rubbed his chin, remembering the man who had played Lucy’s protector. Granted, Prentice had been a grudging protector, but he had saved young Isaiah from certain death. He did not want to remember that this was the same man who had killed Brielle’s sister and tried to kill his and Brielle’s sons and their woman.
Was it really possible that the latter man could be redeemed, that he could open himself up enough to love and be loved? “I’m beginning to wonder if Goddess didn’t make a mistake in sending him back to Earth.”
“Goddess does not make mistakes,” Brielle said.
Caith gave her a smile that he knew didn’t quite reach his eyes. Brielle had always had more faith in the human race and Goddess than he had. It was why he loved her so much, her devotion and spirituality. Her love and devotion were what had saved him so many decades ago.
Could her belief, however, save so tortured a soul as Prentice?
“How wise is it to leave him in the same town where Thayne and Cade live?”
“You do love playing the devil’s advocate.” Brielle grinned.
“I’m just trying to be realistic, and you don’t seem concerned about the situation at all. He did try to kill them and their woman, after all.”
“Goddess would not have sent him back if She thought that he would do more harm than good.” Brielle reached out to grasp his shoulder and squeezed. It was something he had watched Thayne do often since he and Brielle had been in the Summerland keeping tabs on their sons. Thayne used his gifts to heal, to comfort and soothe. He and his brother helped people.
Prentice hadn’t learned how to help anyone if something wasn’t in it for him. His gifts had been corrupted by betrayal, distrust, and hate.
“I think we need to give Prentice the benefit of the doubt. Goddess has. She evidently sees something in him worth saving.”
“I hope you’re right.” If any harm came to his and Brielle’s children, Caith didn’t care what plans Goddess had for Prentice’s salvation. There would be hell to pay.
Chapter 2
Benjamin Residence – Gramercy Park West, New York City – 1882
“Please tell me you are not still considering going on this fool’s errand to that Elk Creek place. Really, son, it’s just an uncivilized Podunk dustbowl in the middle of nowhere.”
Ki jerked up his head to see his mother standing on the threshold of the library. He’d been in such a deep brown-study he hadn’t even heard the click-clacking of her heels against the polished wood floors in the hallway as she approached.
“You should know me by now, Mother. I thrive on civilizing the uncivilized. The Wild West suits my explorer’s soul perfectly. It’s a wonder I haven’t gone out there more often.” Truth be told, there wasn’t much out west to attract him, despite all that twaddle he’d just fed his mother about civilizing the uncivilized. He’d taken a trip to Colorado, but only to go mountaineering and reach the summit of Pikes Peak. Once he climbed the mountain, however, the state didn’t hold much more of an attraction for him. He needed a new mountain to climb, another crusade to champion, a cause célèbre to accomplish and slake the unremitting craving inside. His desire to be greater, go ever faster and ever higher never waned. As long as he lived, he didn’t think he’d ever tire of the pursuit or the thrills.
“Don’t insult my intelligence, feeding me such drivel.”
Ki chuckled and stood to meet his mother in the middle of the room. He wrapped his arms around her for a brief hug, then pulled away to grin down at her. “I can never pull the wool over your eyes.”
She playfully poked him in the ribs. “And don’t you forget it.”
Ki watched as her teasing mood suddenly turned serious again.
“Hezekiah, I am concerned about your motives and what you hope to accomplish while you are out there besides falling prey to another pretty face and sob story.”
“Mother—”
“Now hear me out…”
Ki sighed, already knew what was coming. He hated to sound like a little boy being castigated for a misdeed, but since his mother insisted on treating him like a boy, he felt perfectly entitled to show his annoyance in kind. He did stop short of rolling his eyes though.
“Are you sure you’re not letting your heart guide you in this matter?”
“Mother, give me a little credit.”
“I give you much more than a little credit, Ki. You’re my son and I know your strengths better than anyone, but in matters of the heart and loi
n you can be, shall we say, imprudent.”
She had learned about one indiscretion, one of many he might add, and his mother had yet to let Ki hear the end of it. If she only knew about all the other peccadilloes he had committed in boarding school and college, she would probably swoon against her favorite mauve silk-upholstered chaise longue with the back of a wrist to her forehead like some hapless southern belle or Victorian lady suddenly struck with the vapors. If she knew that not all of his indiscretions had been with women, well then she might blame herself for his sexual proclivities and he could not have that, so he would never allow her to know.
“You have to admit you have a penchant for picking up strays, darling.”
“I have nothing of the sort. Besides, Lucy isn’t exactly a stray.” Ki barely stopped himself from wincing at the slip, hoping his mother didn’t notice how easily the woman’s Christian name had sprung from his mouth.
He clutched her letter against his side as if he could gain strength from its tenuous white fibers, like it was a talisman that could conjure an image of the woman to give him strength.
“You don’t really know that much about her to make that assertion, now do you?”
When had his mother become so cool and calculating…so logical? Granted, she had always been an intelligent woman, but one cosseted from the Machiavellian intrigues of polite high society by his father. Not until his father’s death and her remarriage had she acquired this predilection for chess-like, general-on-the-battlefield manipulation and strategizing.
“Lest I hark back to that Ferrari woman, Exhibit A.”
Ki groaned. “I’d rather you didn’t.”
“Then I shall refresh your memory.” His mother took him by the elbow and led him across the plush Persian rug to sit back down as she took the seat adjacent him. “If I had not intervened on your behalf, that girl could have ruined your future.”
It was an intrusion for which he had yet to forgive his mother.