He dialed Gabriel, a druid whom Robert trusted. It only rang once. “Hey, Robert, you okay, man?” The gruff voice was a relief.
“No, my sister is in bad shape. I can’t trust the Council with her. Not this time. I need to know if I can bring her to you and if you can maybe help me bring her to the Druid Compound in Washington. It’s far enough away that she should be safe.”
“Sure thing. When should I expect you?”
“Give me ten minutes.” He wanted to make a final check on the wards. Someone had left Emily to send a message. Robert couldn’t figure out what and he didn’t want to tip anyone off.
“I’ll see you then.” The connection went dead.
* * * *
The repeated tapping sound drove a tire iron right into her skull. Liz took a peek from under her comforter and saw Tremaine standing on the other side of the glass door. His gray t-shirt clung to his chiseled body and his jeans hung low enough to tempt her no matter how shitty she felt.
One dark brow arched as a mixture of concern and humor played through his warm brown eyes.
“Come on, Liz. I’m not leaving. You may as well let me in.”
Stupid fucking man, waking me up at… she glanced at the clock and glared. Eleven in the morning. Okay, so maybe not that early.
With a flick of her wrist, the door unlocked.
Tremaine stepped inside and strode over to the bed. He sat down next to her with a wicked grin. “Morning. I’d say good, but I’m guessing you’re hung-over. You rarely sleep this late, and you look awfully pissed off.”
She flipped him off with a snarl and retreated under the blankets. He rubbed a hand up and down her back, sending a shiver all the way to her toes.
“Go away,” she groaned. “I’m sleeping.”
“Oh no, doll, you promised you would come to Christian’s party, and you are coming. You need to get out. I know what’s going on in your head right now, but we’re going to get you out of this funk. So get your pretty little ass out of bed, and in the shower, or I will take you myself.”
And he would. He had before, and it wouldn’t even be the last time.
Unfortunately, it wouldn’t be the sexy type of shower.
“You are an evil, evil man, Tremaine. My head is killing me. Just let me sleep.” She might have pleaded a little too much, but Tremaine had seen her at her very worst countless times, so it wasn’t like he cared.
He sighed, and his hand never stopped the gentle rubbing that eased some of her anxiety. “You know you’ll find a reason to put off getting ready, and claim you are bailing. You’ll get shitfaced, and then out of guilt, show up for Christian’s twenty-first birthday party. So no, I’m staying and you’re getting your ass ready so I can take you to breakfast, brunch, lunch whatever the hell you want to call it.”
“You’re a pain in the ass,” she grumbled.
He chuckled. “Yes, but I’m your pain in the ass, and I’m going to stick to you like glue until I deliver you to the party. Sober. You can drink yourself into a stupor after arriving.”
He was right. Christian was family and she couldn’t bail. “You aren’t going to leave me alone, are you?” She sighed, throwing the covers off and storming into the bathroom.
“Of course not, doll. Besides, I see that empty bottle of Voodoo. A whole bottle of rum.” He shook his head. “Nightmares again?”
She left the door open. Tremaine would have followed her anyway. He was a pushy bastard when he was in protector mode. She loved that about him, but she’d never admit it in a million years.
Keeping her back to him, she flipped the water on before placing her hands against the wall and staring at the drain as the water cascaded over her throbbing head.
Tremaine cleared his throat, and concern laced his tone. “Is that it? Are you having the nightmares again?”
“I drink to shut them out. Otherwise I relive a chapter of my own personal hell. You know that.”
“What can I do to help?”
“Let me stay home.” Her laugh was short, she knew better. “I’m a mess. I shouldn’t go to the party. Christian would understand. Hell, I don’t know why that boy puts up with me when I’m like this. I’ve never been good at the whole family thing.”
“Sure. He would forgive you. Doesn’t mean you would. If you show up drunk off your ass, you’re going to hate yourself worse in the morning. So I’m babysitting you until we arrive. I know you love that kid as if he were your own.”
She did. He was an orphan, like her. Old Lady Murdock had raised him. The old woman was the closest thing to family she had besides Tremaine.
“Fine,” Liz muttered. “You win. He’s going to hate me when he realizes I’m a raging bitch the whole night.” She dropped her head against the wall and stood there as the scalding water eased her muscles.
“You may have your moments, but you are not a bitch.” Tremaine said gently.
She turned toward him, tipping her head back to rinse her hair. Through her lashes, she caught him watching her with an all too familiar heat in his gaze. For the millionth time she had to remind herself that if he wanted her, he would have made his move forever ago.
Liz lathered up her hands and washed herself. She opened her eyes as her hands swept over her breasts.
His gaze darkened as he looked away, and she would swear she saw a hint of a blush under the scruff.
“What are you going to wear to the party?” Trem asked gruffly.
“I’m still looking for a way out of it,” she complained, mostly to keep him arguing with her. “I know no one will let me, but if I go anywhere near Christian sober, he’s going to be all over me, trying to figure out what’s bothering me like he does every damned year.”
One of these days she was going to break down and tell him the whole story. She’d probably scar him for life, but one day she’d crack.
Liz let the spray wash the soap away before she shut off the water and stepped out of the shower. She snagged a towel and stepped in front of Tremaine.
His eyes locked on hers as a devilish smirk twisted his lips. “The boy has a huge crush on you. Who wouldn’t?”
She rolled her eyes. “I feel like his aunt or something. I could only corrupt him.” She shuddered. Besides, Christian was way too young.
“You would be that favorite aunt every nephew fantasizes about.” Tremaine waggled his brows.
“Seriously, shut the hell up. He’s perfect with Delilah, and I’m old enough to be his great, great grandmother.” She tossed the towel on the counter and crossed her arms under her chest.
His gaze dropped to her breasts for half a second before bouncing back to her eyes. “You may be older, but you are one of the most powerful mages I know. You know that means we live a hell of a lot longer than your average human. You look like you might be twenty-five on a bad day.” He winked.
Not that he looked much older. The unshaven look did seem to add of couple years to his youthful face. “Yeah, but I know how old I am. I remember Old Lady Murdock changing Christian’s diapers back when he was tiny. He’s family, nothing more.”
He pointed toward her room. “Stop stalling and get dressed. I brought some of Dakota’s brew to help with your headache, and you know you’ll feel better when you get some food in your stomach.”
“Yeah, yeah.” This was a battle she knew she wouldn’t win so she gave in, if only because spending her day with Tremaine would help keep her mind off Robert.
* * * *
James stood in the cove of black cherry trees outside their old family home. Robert was the only one who lived there now, and it was warded against him. That wasn’t a surprise, it was a spell Robert had cast over two decades ago, shortly after their father passed away.
The day after their father’s funeral, James decided to go in search of the magical artifacts that dear old dad had stashed away. He hurried up the walkway but was thrown back before he made it halfway.
“Fucking wards,” he snarled, holding his hands out as he
edged forward. The jolt sizzled through his fingers and up his arms the second he touched the barrier, but tried to push forward. Heat blazed against his skin and his shirt caught fire as electricity arched off the invisible wall to wrap around him.
The fire was likely Robert’s magic, but the lightning was all Liz, and her wards were infallible.
That had been twenty-five years before, and he could still feel the spell as if it were waiting until it could lash out at him. Funny how some spells had a memory.
That was why Jarvis had to deposit Emily on the porch. James had kept an eye on the place, but Robert’s presence was still there, unless his brother had learned a way to cloak his absence before translocating away.
James needed Robert to lead him to Liz, unless Jarvis could find her. Unfortunately, following Robert always proved impossible.
* * * *
Emily was safe with the druids, and now it was time to see what she hid. He made his way to the attic where Liz’s things were stored, mostly the things his mother insisted on buying her.
Her trunk held many memories. They had exchanged hundreds of secret letters. He stayed away from the attic because it made the memory that much fresher, digging a little deeper.
Dropping to his knees, he grazed his hands over the wood. Elizandra had spelled a magical compartment into the chest.
Emily had been jealous that Liz had something Emily couldn’t access. She had started calling it Lizard’s hole. If only Emily would have given her a chance from the beginning. By the time Emily realized how wrong she was, it was too late.
Tremaine never stopped trying to convince Robert to man up and go to Liz. After months of missing her, he finally gained the courage to ignore her final words. He found her curled up beside Tremaine, staring into the fire. She looked so lost, but Tremaine held her, watching her with such deep love that Robert refused to take that from him.
From then on, he went to watch Liz. It became apparent that Liz felt for Tremaine what she once felt for him. No matter what Tremaine said, Robert knew he was too late.
A tear trailed down Robert’s cheek as he opened the lid and whispered the spell. His hand slid into the pocket and he grabbed a leather bound journal, but he felt a thick piece of paper. He pulled both out and stared at the folded note. It had Robert scrawled across in blue ink, Liz’s favorite color.
He hurried down the stairs and set the letter and the book on the table. It was one of Emily’s leather bound journals. Before he could bring himself to open the note, he filled his old fashioned kettle and turned the stove on.
Taking a deep breath, he sat down and unfolded the letter first. Her tears had stained the paper, and his chest ached.
Why didn’t I ever look in there?
Dearest Robert,
I will never have the words to apologize for that morning. How can I expect you to forgive me when I will never forgive myself? You were at death’s door because I couldn’t tell you apart from James.
You may hate me after reading this, but I had to finally explain. James came to me wearing your face. Before I could send him away he attacked. He stole your child from me. He took everything from me, even you, Robert.
I am sorry, so terribly sorry. I never wanted to hurt you. My heart will always be yours, even if you never forgive me.
Love always,
Elizandra
Tears ran down his face as he stared at her words. He knew James had hurt her, but their baby? He could hardly breathe. The blood, the way she clutched at her stomach, it all made sense now.
No wonder she woke in a panic and nearly killed him.
Then reality hit him. She left him the message, and waited for him. His heart pounded in his chest. She must think I hate her. Twenty-one years and I never once made an effort.
The shrill cry of the kettle startled him. His hands trembled as he poured the steaming water over his Earl Gray tea.
If I had taken Tremaine’s advice, I could have mended things. Too late, always too late.
Robert opened Emily’s journal. What his sister documented was worse than he ever imagined. James had abused her from the very beginning. He was the one who turned her against Liz. After everything James put her through, she brought him back from the brink of death. When she couldn’t rehabilitate him, she stopped healing his body, leaving him wrecked.
He couldn’t fault Emily for that, but James had broken free, which explained the state he found Emily in. He was out for revenge. Now that he was done with Emily, he was going after Liz.
No matter what he promised her, even if Liz and Tremaine were together, he had to go to her. He couldn’t stand by while his brother tore her apart.
* * * *
After waiting for some sign of Robert’s departure, two young Silver Council Enforcer recruits pulled up. The woman threw the door open and walked around the front of the SUV with her hands on her hips. The male joined her with a glare.
James listened to the argument, hoping for some clue where to find Liz. The male stared the young woman down. “Come on, Angela Renee. You’re being ridiculous. You’re the one who wants to prove yourself. So take your holier-than-though attitude around the house and see if you can find out who or what was trespassing on Robert’s property.”
“You’re an asshole,” she snarled, but she turned on her heel to march around the old building.
Angela walked toward him and kept going, never sensing his presence. As soon as she was out of sight of the other mage, he stepped in behind her and covered her mouth. James reached out with his will and drew her magic into himself.
He breathed in deep, and her energy ebbed from her as it flowed into him. She screamed against his hand and tried to twist free but he pulled too hard and too fast. The skin around her mouth shriveled up, much like the rest of her flesh. Her dark hair faded to silver gray in seconds as her muscle mass shrank.
Raw power flooded his body, filling in his atrophied muscles as the young mage withered and died in his arms. He dropped what was left of her, feeling better than he had since before his forced slumber. As he made his way around the house, he morphed his appearance to that of Angela.
He found the other mage who had started to walk around the other side of the house. James called out, “Hey, there’s nothing back there.”
The guy nodded but made his way back. “Did you even try?”
“You really are a fool,” he sneered as he placed a hand over the man’s face and drew his energy in a rush. The flow was so fast that the man crumbled into dust before he could fall to the ground.
James dug around in the mage’s pockets until he found the keys to the Explorer. It was time to find Jarvis and figure out their next move.
Chapter 16
Tremaine sat on Liz’s bed, waiting for her to finish dressing in her closet. Christian’s party would start soon, but at least she was no longer stalling.
She kept muttering about looking for a reason to bail, but he knew she wouldn’t. Liz hated dodging Christian’s questions about what was wrong. The kid was smart, he knew she would answer if and when she was ready, but that didn’t mean he would stop asking.
His phone buzzed. Frowning, he pulled it out of his pocket to see a text from Robert. T – Emily is in bad shape. James is alive and looking for Liz. I’ll be at the party. I need to talk to her. – R
Well shit, Tremaine hoped Emily was okay.
Liz was another story. She was already in her yearly funk. Tremaine could see the whole night spiraling out of control. He wanted the two of them to work their shit out, but not on the anniversary of everything falling apart. Still, if James was back, he was probably out for revenge and Liz wasn’t safe on her own.
“What’s the frown for?” Liz asked as she stepped into the room in a sexy little black dress that lovingly smoothed over her long, lithe body. As always, she was stunning. She was built like a dancer, and easily as graceful. Her hair was a wild mane of colors, her eyes a mix of gold and green that were framed by the longest lashe
s he’d ever seen. Her full pouty mouth begged to be tasted.
For the millionth time he reminded himself that she was meant for Robert. His love for Liz had started off innocent, that of a protector. Somewhere after she grew into a woman, he started a slow fall.
“What is it, Tremaine?” She asked in a low voice as she marched over.
He slid his phone into his pocket with a shrug.
“Don’t give me that shit. Something’s up. You don’t ever look this serious without a good damned reason.”
“You know I don’t approve of the way you cope with this time of year.” Tremaine managed a smile but her eyes narrowed. “Come on, Liz, tonight will be fine.” Until she saw Robert, that is.
“I gave up this morning. I’m going. Look, I’m even dressed.” She waved a hand up and down her dress. “Can we get going? The sooner I get there and wish Christian a happy birthday, the sooner I can get to drowning away the nightmares.”
“Let me use the bathroom real quick.” He stepped past her and locked the door. Robert deserved some kind of warning.
R - Liz is in a shitty mood. Tonight is probably the worst night you could pick for a reunion. Try to go easy on her. We’ll be at In 2 Deep. - T
Tremaine washed his hands and took his time. He didn’t bother checking his phone again. When he stepped into the room, he found Liz pacing. “You okay, doll?”
She looked up, and her eyes locked on his. “No, not really. Something bad is coming, Trem. At least I know you’ll be here with me.” She wrung her hands as she looked away. “It’s the same feeling I used to get when James was following me. It’s scaring the shit out of me. He’s dead. I shouldn’t feel like this.”
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