“She’s apparently linked to him emotionally somehow,” said Austin. “Hey. Maybe they’ll do some major linking of another variety and she’ll be your stepmother.”
Elis looked tired.
Bram stiffened, and I took that to mean he didn’t like the idea in the least.
Swallowing hard, I eased away from him somewhat.
“Marcy?” Elis caught my gaze with his. “You all right?”
My lips pressed into a thin line as I nodded.
“I’m not buying that,” said Elis.
The next I knew, Bram’s hand was on my elbow. He eased me back toward the shelter of his body gently, yet in a way that said it was happening—period.
Austin tilted his head in Elis’s direction. “Is it me or did the big guy just—”
“Let it be,” said Elis, cutting off Austin.
“Okay, but I was hoping she’d go out with me and if he’s in the running for her affection and attention, I’m so screwed,” confessed Austin.
Dana paled. “I’m not sure who I’d feel worse for if they ended up together. Him for having to deal with Marcy and her tree-hugging ways, or her when he’d send her packing the minute the going gets tough.”
A pin drop could be heard as Bram’s pain washed over me, feeling as if it were my own. His self-loathing far surpassed any anger or resentment Dana could ever think to have against him. He hated himself for the choices he’d made all those years ago. Choices that seemed right at the time. Monday morning quarterbacking accomplished nothing.
It’s easy to glance in the rearview mirror, judging everything and everyone behind you. It’s a lot harder to keep an open mind when focusing on the path ahead.
From the expression on Dana’s face, she was realizing as much.
I sighed, disappointed because I’d hoped the two of them would get off on a better foot.
“That just kind of fell out,” said Dana softly, glancing away.
My hand eased to Bram’s chest once again, and I caressed him in a soothing manner, wanting to somehow ease the hurt and shame he was feeling
He turned to face his daughter but took my hand in his in the process. “There aren’t words enough to express how many regrets I have, Dana. I’m not asking for your understanding or your forgiveness. I just ask that you consider possibly letting me get to know you at least a little. I’ll respect your wishes if you want me out of your life for good.”
I nearly opened my mouth to interject my thoughts but held my tongue. My opinion wasn’t important.
Dana lowered her gaze more. “Do you want to be out of my life again?”
“No,” said Bram, squeezing my hand as he did. “More than anything, I want a chance to know you. I understand how big of an ask that is. And there is nothing you can say to me that I haven’t said to myself over the course of your life.”
She took a deep breath. “If you could do it again, would you still have sent Mom away with me when I was born?”
Bram was quiet a second. “This is where I should say no. That I’d have kept her and you close to me, but the answer isn’t that simple. My fear of harm finding its way to you because of who I am and what I do was real and valid. But, that being said, I have no way of knowing if keeping you close would have been the better path.”
“Did you love my mom?” asked Dana in her blunt manner.
Bram inclined his head slightly. “As much as I could.”
“Because she wasn’t your true mate?” questioned Dana.
He took a deep breath. “I see Wilma has been talking with you about this.”
“She has,” admitted Dana.
Bram licked his lips. “I know you’re anxious to get this evening over with. I can take you and Ms. Dotter down to the vaults and show you where to start your search. As it turns out, another matter has come up that needs my attention, so I’ll be scarce for the night.”
Knowing Dana as long and as well as I did, I thought she’d clam up and agree, or possibly make another smart remark. Her next words caught me off guard.
“You’re not going to look with us?” asked Dana, seeming surprised and slightly hurt.
Bram opened his mouth to reply but I cleared my throat, already sensing what he’d planned to do—lie to protect his feelings. He glanced at me, his thumb sliding back and forth lightly over my hand. With a slow exhalation of breath, he collected himself before he spoke. “I’m sure I can move things around with my schedule if you want me here.”
Dana looked to me and, in that moment, her expression wasn’t that of a forty-year-old woman who was a former assistant district attorney. It was that of a little girl, wanting desperately to connect with her father, but unsure how to go about doing as much.
My heart ached, and I found myself fighting tears yet again. “I, for one, would love it if you could move things around with your schedule and help us look for information on my family. I can’t thank you enough for letting us do this.”
Bram bit at his lower lip before sliding his green gaze back to his daughter. “Is this agreeable to you?”
“Yes,” she said, the edges of her lip curving into a slight smile. “But only if you want. No pressure.”
Putting herself in a vulnerable position wasn’t her thing.
Bram squeezed my hand again, the only indication that her words moved him. “I would be honored to assist in the hunt for information.”
“Cool,” said Dana with a shrug that was anything but chilled and relaxed.
I did my best to catch her attention with my gaze.
When I did, I motioned with my head to her father. Now was the perfect moment for hugging.
Confusion coated her brow.
I motioned more, willing her to feel the hugging-force.
She grunted. “Marcy, we’ve been over this a million times. I don’t take subtle clues when it comes to touchy-feely stuff. And let’s be honest, that awkward exchange he and I just had is about as greeting card as we’re probably going to get. If you think I need to say something to him, please tell me what that something is because I’m pretty far out of my element here as it is.”
Unable to contain my emotions, I spun around and hugged Bram.
Dana laughed. “You had that hug bottled up in you the entire time, didn’t you?”
I nodded, clinging to Bram.
“I’m shocked you showed that much restraint,” added Dana before snorting. “Bram, do me a solid and hold the woman so I don’t have to right now.”
His large, muscled arms eased around me and clamped me to his body.
Austin and Elis hurried past us, in the direction of Dana.
“We should find that squirrel before it gets into something it shouldn’t,” said Elis.
“What squirrel?” asked Dana before she grunted. “Marcy, did your tree-rat hitch a ride here with us?”
I cringed, still in Bram’s arms. “Maybe.”
“Where? I checked your bag before we left!” she shouted.
Austin laughed—hard. “I’ve got this one. Let’s go hunt for the little stowaway.”
With that, they left Bram and me still standing on the front stoop, holding each other.
He made a move to let go of me, but I snuggled against him more.
“I’m not done yet,” I said.
He chuckled. “So I see.”
The moment felt right. Like we’d done something similar a hundred times over. And it reminded me a little of the dreams I’d been having.
“You smell really good,” I blurted before releasing him. My arms instantly ached and I bit my lower lip, doing my best to behave myself.
Bram touched my chin, directing my gaze upward. “You weren’t done hugging me, were you?”
I nodded weakly, wanting him to believe I’d had my fill. I hadn’t. I could hug for hours.
He grinned, and it was incredibly alluring. “Really?”
“Yes,” I said, my voice barely a whisper.
“Ms. Dotter?”
“Hmm?” I
responded. “And call me Marcy, please.”
His thumb caressed my chin. “What if I was to say I wasn’t done hugging you just yet?”
That did it. I launched myself at him once more, hugging him to the point a normal person would have burst.
His deep laugh greeted me as he returned the embrace.
With my cheek pressed to his undershirt-covered chest, I looked off in the distance on the front lawn and noticed the spirit of the woman in the period dress was back. The smile on her face couldn’t be missed.
Chapter Fourteen
Bram
Marcy and Dana continued to search through records as Bram stood silently near an antique globe in the center of what was referred to as the main library of the underground vault. When construction on the estate had started, Bram had still been close to Arthur. It had been prior to their falling-out. A time when Arthur Holmwood held Bram’s ear and his full trust.
Bram had permitted Arthur to spearhead much in the way of the underground vault system. And he’d done an amazing job of connecting to the existing tunnels that ran below town while also creating new areas for storage of weapons and research material.
It had been Arthur who had decided to name each section of the vault, as well as the various corridors and tunnels. Bram hadn’t really given it that much thought during the development stages. But Arthur had insisted, explaining that with the sheer size and number of sections, labels were required to avoid confusion. Arthur had gone so far as to have plaques done up and mounted outside of each area. The care the man had taken to each detail shouldn’t have surprised Bram.
After all, from the minute Arthur had found himself a changed man—a creature of the night—like Bram, he’d thrown himself into research. He’d wanted to learn all he could about their condition. He’d been insistent the Van Helsing reference material, which had at one point been spread out and over many different estates, be housed in one facility.
Arthur had even traveled the world in search of additional reference materials, old scrolls, and historic weapons to add to the collection, carefully cataloging each. In the end, the man had created a sanctuary of sorts beneath the grounds.
All of that changed during one of his trips overseas to collect more materials.
He’d returned a changed man and with a new bride in tow.
The Fae from the Nightshade Clan.
Arthur went from being a bookworm who played it safe to taking more risks. Ones that put not only himself in danger but threatened to expose the truth of supernaturals to humans. For a while, there were rumors that he’d been recruited by The Order.
Bram didn’t believe for a moment that could have been true. Then again, there were a lot of things that didn’t add up. Things that had left the two men at odds and estranged from one another.
Arthur had moved away from the Van Helsing estate and gone to Scotland to live there with his new love interest. While Bram was hunting evil all over the world, Arthur returned to Grimm Cove. They’d never connected. The next Bram had heard anything of his friend, it had been in the form of a death notice.
Bram’s demon stirred within him. The demon hadn’t been related to the one that lived in Arthur, but it had been close friends with it, having something of a brotherly bond. Arthur’s death had been as hard on Bram’s demon as it had been on Bram.
Both thought there would be ample time to fix things between them. And both had been wrong.
There were moments when Bram found himself in the vault, having no real reason to be there other than to reflect back on how excited Arthur had been at every stage of its creation. Maybe that was part of why Bram was steadfast in his convictions that it be left as is.
As such, very little changed in the underground area and that was part of what Bram liked about it all. It was a place for him to retreat when he wanted to be surrounded by history and books. A place untouched by technology or too many modern amenities. There were restrooms, of course, but they weren’t as people knew them to be today. Instead they were very reminiscent of the Victorian age.
The toilets had high tanks and pull chains. The bases of the toilets were done in the forms of various mythical creatures with cisterns that continued the design. Of course, at first glance they appeared normal but decorative. They too had been something of a passion project of Arthur’s.
The overseeing of the vaults had given Arthur purpose again. He’d been very close to Seward and Morris before their lives had all changed. Arthur had been from an influential family and came from money. In truth, that was something they had in common.
Arthur had always wanted to follow in his father’s footsteps but that had never been Bram’s desire.
There had been a large portion of Bram’s life when he’d done anything but make his family proud. He had been born into a family of demon hunters whose life calling was to police and hunt the very supernaturals he now was counted amongst. It was a legacy he didn’t want to pass on to his daughter. He wanted her to be free to do as she wished and far from the harsh realities being a demon hunter provided.
Yet here she was, in the vaults.
He sighed.
If you’re planning to enter another of your dark, tormented soul phases, can you at least make a drink before you get started? asked the demon. Bourbon sounds nice since we both know you wouldn’t dare drink blood with Dana nearby.
With a groan, Bram rotated his neck and adjusted the way in which he was standing, wanting desperately to tell his demon to go pound salt. It was one thing to talk to himself in front of Elis, Austin, and Harker. It was another to do so in front of his daughter and Marcy.
At the thought of Marcy, his gaze wandered back to her—not that it had left her long since she’d arrived.
She still wore Bram’s shirt. Her ample curves didn’t fill it completely, a testament to their size difference, and her stature left it hanging low on her body.
He liked knowing she had his smell on her now. Liked the idea that her skin was brushing against his article of clothing.
Marcy’s soft, melodic laugh was music to his ears, causing his body to warm instantly. The rush of heat came on so suddenly that Bram staggered slightly, losing his footing enough to bump the globe’s wooden base, making the feet of it scrape loudly on the stone floor as it inched forward.
All eyes came to him, and he froze.
Dana gave him a thumbs-up. “Nice to know you’re human…kind of.”
He knew it was meant to be a joke and even his demon found amusement in the light ribbing. He inclined his head and righted the wooden base for the globe.
The item was the very one that had been in his childhood home, in his father’s study, many moons ago. At one point there had been a set of end tables that matched the wooden base, but over the years and after numerous moves, one of the tables had gone missing.
The main section of the vault they were in currently held the vast majority of information pertaining to Grimm Cove, as well as any current references the slayers were using for whatever they were hunting at the moment.
Well, except for all the information on the necromancer and the crew he ran with. Bram kept that, and most of his private past, in one of the vaults that was farther away from the hustle and bustle that often happened during peak hours in the estate. He was the only one with a key to that particular vault and it remained locked at all times.
The necromancer was Bram’s nemesis, and he took the threat extremely personally, preferring to catalogue any information he found in a private area.
The rest of the reference material was housed within the various vaults, some focusing on years throughout history, others had collections that revolved around mythology and so forth. Basically, if it had something to do with the supernatural, odds were, there was information to be found on it in the Van Helsing vaults.
The demon, like Bram, enjoyed being something of a fly on the wall as the women got lost in their task. It was easy to see they’d all but forgotten he was there,
which was fine by him. It gave him a chance to observe their interactions and how they related to one another.
Dana liked to joke about Marcy’s attention span, or lack thereof, and Marcy took innocent jabs at Dana’s patience level. It was more than obvious that they loved one another like family, not just close friends.
“Babes, I’m starting to think someone lied to you about where you were born,” said Dana as she shut another of the old-style wooden filing cabinets. “There is nothing here on you, and we’ve checked the year it says you were born as well as the ones before and after it. You’re sure this certificate is yours and correct? I’m only asking because I know you were adopted up in the Salem area, but then ended up in the system all the same. Do you think there was a mix-up?”
Marcy touched her lower lip and lifted her worn birth certificate once more. “I guess there could have been. Did you finish looking through the census data for around then too?”
“Yes. I can’t find anything on your parents,” said Dana. “We can ask my father to peek through it. Maybe something will jar his memory from then.”
Laughter came from the entrance that led out to the main corridor, elevator, and stairwell.
“Not funny,” said Austin grumpily as he entered the main library area carrying a shoebox.
Since the box in question was one that, at last check, held a pair of expensive Italian loafers—much like the ones that had left bloody footprints at the crime scene in Romania—Bram perked. “Why is it you have one of my boxes of shoes?”
Austin cringed. “About that.”
Something thumped from within the box.
Elis entered behind Austin. He held a deep red dress shirt for Bram in one hand. He tossed the shirt at Bram before leaning against the stone archway, drawing in deep breaths as he continued to laugh.
Bram caught the shirt and slid it on, leaving just a few buttons undone at the top to give him a more casual look since he wasn’t about to undo his pants and tuck it in with Dana nearby.
Lifting an arm, Elis pointed in Austin’s direction, taking in big gulps of air between laughs. “Box. Squirrel. Your closet.”
Spellcasting with a Chance of Spirits: A Paranormal Women's Fiction Romance Novel (Grimm Cove Book 3) Page 15