Tornado_A Paranormal Romance

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Tornado_A Paranormal Romance Page 11

by Jasmine Wylder


  Seph Vovin shifted in his wingback chair, his long fingers laced together over the notebook resting across his lap. “So,” he said, breaking the frosty silence that had settled over his office like a dense, London fog. His blue eyes focused on the woman and his lips curled up at the corners in a gentle smile. “Ladies first. Elaine? Tell me what has been going on between you and Robert. How have things been going since the last time I saw you,” he glanced down at the file, “last month?”

  Elaine pursed her lips and shook her head. Her slender fingers drummed against her arm. Finally, she spoke. “Where do I start?” She looked over at Robert with disdain. “He’s still out of work. I’m the only one supporting the household. I went right back to work after giving birth to our clutch, with the agreement that he would stay home with the kids until they were old enough for a nanny. That was three months ago. For all I know, he doesn’t even have a job to go back to, anymore.”

  “In my defense,” Robert said, interrupting his wife’s tirade, “I was experiencing separation anxiety from the children.” He turned to Seph with a look of sad desperation. “You know how that is, right?”

  Seph smiled. “Not personally,” he said. “But I do know it’s common for dragons to experience anxiety over being away from their children, as early as when the eggs are in their mate’s womb.” He reached up, combing his fingers through his thick, dark blond hair. “However, if you’ve been having any kind of difficulty graduating to the next stage of parenthood, you might need to speak to your physician, as it could be a medical issue that needs addressing and, unfortunately, not something I can help with.” He spread his hand over the front of his white linen shirt and blue silk necktie. “I’m here to counsel you and Elaine as a couple, to help you reclaim and maintain a perfect level of harmony in your relationship.”

  “I just feel like she doesn’t understand,” Robert insisted, moving to sit at the edge of the sofa cushion. He twisted to face his wife. “I love you, Lainey, and I don’t want to disappoint you. I just want you to be a little more patient with me.” He shook his head. “You and the kids mean the world to me. Growing up, I never had much of a family. My mom was killed in a car wreck while she was pregnant with her second clutch; they saved the eggs, but they were premature, and I wound up losing my brother and sister before they were a year old.” He swallowed audibly, his eyes filling with tears. “My dad was never the same after that. I never knew why until I became a father. I’m scared that something will happen to our children if I’m not there to protect them.”

  Elaine sighed, but her body language changed from angry and closed off to one of resignation. “Dammit, Rob,” she said. She reached over and scooped up one of his hands, lacing their fingers together. “Nothing is going to happen to the kids. They’re healthy, they’re growing up fast…” She gave a soft laugh and shook her head. “Don’t you think I miss them, too, being away from them all day when I’m at work? And I miss you. But I can’t do this all by myself. We’ve got bills to pay, we have to keep a roof over our heads.” She tugged on his hand. “I just want my husband to be my partner. We’re supposed to be doing this together.”

  Seph watched them carefully, listening to their conversation. “Elaine is right, Robert,” he said, closing the notebook and placing it on the mahogany end table to the left of his chair. “Marriage comes with a lot of responsibilities. Taking care of your family is important, but it has to start with your union.” He gestured at each of them with a wave of his long fingers. “You two are the foundation of your family. Robert, you’re afraid that your children will grow up the way you did – without a mother, without a father. You couldn’t control those events in your life, but you can control this.” He stood up, pulled his tailored gray suit jacket closed and buttoned it. “My advice to you is to work together. Every day, I want you to tell yourself that your children are going to be fine. You can leave them with their caretaker and you can go back to your job, which will alleviate some of the burden from Elaine’s shoulders. This will also allow Elaine to have a little more time to spend with the children, since it’s imperative for young dragons to bond with both parents. By becoming equal partners, you’ll find your relationship will thrive, your fears will subside, and you’ll be back to the happy couple that you were when you first met.”

  Robert and Elaine looked at him and then at each other – and they shared a smile. “I love you,” Robert said, and leaned in to give his wife a tender kiss on the lips. “I promise, I’ll do better.”

  “That’s all I want,” Elaine murmured, and rubbed the tip of her nose against her husband’s.

  The session concluded. Seph walked his clients to the door. “I’ll see you in a month,” he told them. “Good luck, both of you.”

  “Thank you,” the couple said, and made their way out through the waiting room.

  As he closed the door, Seph’s phone rang. He pulled it out of his jacket’s inner breast pocket and checked the caller I.D. A frown creased his brow when he saw the name of one of his four brothers. He thumbed the screen. “Drew! Slow day at the courthouse?”

  The District Attorney chuckled. “Well, since you answered the phone I have to think you’re either between appointments or your clients have realized how stupid it is to get couple’s counseling from someone who has never been in a long-term relationship.”

  Seph rolled his eyes. “That one never gets old,” he said. Walking over to his desk, he woke his computer out of sleep mode and pulled up his schedule. “Seriously, Drew – what do you want?”

  “I was just checking to see if you heard from Father.”

  “Why? What’s going on?”

  “Check your email.”

  Sighing, Seph sat down in his office chair and clicked on his email icon. He found the letter from their father, with the word ‘Urgent!’ in the subject line. Opening the file, he found a brief note telling him to come to the house tonight. The email had been copied to his brothers. Seph blinked, confused. “Why is Father calling us all together?” he wondered aloud.

  “I was going to ask you the same thing,” Drew said. “I thought I’d check with you before I called Vann, Don, or Mal.”

  Seph snorted at the last name. “Is he even in town? I thought he was on tour right now.”

  “Actually, I think his band goes on the road next week,” Drew said.

  Seph shrugged. “Well, maybe that’s the reason for the short notice,” he said. He leaned back, his chair squeaking under him. “Father must have something to tell us, while we’re all in the area.” He chewed on the skin at the corner of his thumbnail. A thought crossed his mind and he sat up straight. “Shit – you think there’s something wrong? That he might be sick?”

  “God, I hope not,” Drew said. “Look, I’ve got to go – I have a meeting with one of the judges in ten minutes. I’ll see you tonight at Tamerlane.”

  As the call ended, Seph pressed the edge of his phone against his lips. His father never ordered his sons to congregate at the family estate unless it was something important. Because Father gave no hint as to the reason, Seph found his mind wandering to the worst possible reasons. He considered calling his other clutch mates to get their opinions.

  He looked at his watch. He had a half-hour before his next appointment. Opening his phone’s contact list, he dialed his brother Vann. It did not surprise him when it went straight to voicemail. Vann worked at an upscale day spa where he always seemed to be in high demand by the female clientele who signed up months in advance to receive his massages. That’s not all they want from him, Seph thought. Last Christmas, Vann had a little too much mulled wine to drink and began bragging about all the women – many of them married – with whom he had sex during extended private sessions, making jokes about the amount of body oil he could go through over the course of a day. Seph had given up on warning Vann about the dangers associated with being a lothario, especially if a jealous husband caught on to his wife’s affair with the handsome masseur. Of course, Vann always bl
ew him off, so Seph decided to leave it alone. He’ll find out, sooner or later.

  Seph decided to try Don next. Of the five boys, Donnie had turned out to be the only introvert. He kept a low profile, working from his home as a web developer. He took comfort in the anonymity of the Internet, and never had to deal with anyone face to face. Growing up, he had been the quiet one, spending most of his time in the family library while Seph, Mal, Vann and Drew would be out socializing. “Hey, Donnie,” Seph said, when his brother answered the phone. “How are you doing, buddy?”

  “Fine,” Don replied, ever the one to keep things brief. “Are you calling about Father’s email?”

  “You know, it still unnerves me how you do that,” Seph said. “You always know what people are going to say before they say it… Are you sure you’re not psychic?”

  A heavy sigh. “We all got the same email from Father,” Don said. “It stands to reason that would be why you would call me. You’re also probably wondering if I know what it’s about. That’s not extrasensory perception – it’s common sense. Also? Drew called just before you did.”

  “Of course, he did,” Seph muttered under his breath, looking at the ceiling and shaking his head. “Have you heard from Vann? Because I can’t get in touch with him.”

  “I think I can say with complete confidence that I would be the last person Vann called, about anything,” Don said, and Seph could hear an edge of bitterness in his brother’s voice. Don and Vann were direct opposites on the personality spectrum. As boys, Vann would pick on Don almost mercilessly; he still gave him grief as an adult. That could explain why they hardly ever got together anymore, unless it was under their father’s orders. “I’ll tell you the same thing I told Drew: I have no idea why Father would be calling us all home like this. But I do tend to agree with Drew, that it might pertain to a legal matter.”

  Seph could almost see Donnie, now, speaking through his wireless headset while staring at a computer monitor; his acute dragon hearing picked up on the sounds of clanging metal and thundering footsteps. Seph had to smirk. “Well, I’ll let you get back to your game – what is that, anyway? Battle Swords of Valor?”

  Don’s response was dry, but with a sharp edge. “It’s called Valiant Victories. I’m reviewing it for the Booster Relief gaming site.”

  “Right.” Seph managed to refrain from teasing his brother about his nerdy lifestyle. “I’ll see you tonight.”

  “Okay,” Don said, and without further ado, he disconnected the call.

  All right, so that’s strike two for any kind of insight into this matter. Seph grimaced. He doubted Mal would know anything, but he still felt obligated to reach out to him. Seph located the number and called it.

  After the seventh ring, someone picked up. “Hang on!” a husky male voice said.

  Seph had to hold the phone away from his ear, wincing at the loud rustling sounds close to the speaker. Somewhere in the distance, he heard his brother’s distinct baritone-tenor. A moment later, he heard Mal cough and clear his throat before speaking. “Yeah, what’s up?”

  “Hey, Mal. It’s Seph.” He frowned. “Where are you?”

  “At the radio station, getting ready to do an interview to promote the kick-off for my tour,” Mal said. “I’m going on at the top of the hour, so I gotta make this fast, man.”

  “I understand,” Seph said. “I just wanted to know if you saw the email that Father sent out. He wants all of us – you, me, Vann, Drew, and Don – to come to Tamerlane tonight.”

  “Aw, no, man – I’ve been real busy today and haven’t checked my messages,” Mal said. “What’s going on?”

  “That’s why I called,” Seph said. “I was hoping you might know.” He picked up a pen from his desk and twirled it across the backs of his fingers. “We’re all in the dark on this one.”

  Mal laughed. “Just relax, bro. No use getting all worked up over it. Your problem is you’re always trying to figure out what’s going on in everyone’s heads so you can fix things. That may work at the office, but when it comes to this family? You’re just gonna make yourself crazy. Take it easy. We’ll find out what the Old Man has planned for us when we get there.”

  “I suppose,” Seph conceded. Part of him envied Mal. Nothing ever fazed him, as he chose an existence he referred to as ‘The Chill Life.’ Playing music to sold-out crowds, getting high, and being a free spirit worked for him. He made his own rules. “Well, good luck on your interview. I’ll see you tonight.”

  “You got it,” Mal said cheerfully. “Love ya, man!”

  Seph set his phone on his desk and rubbed the space between his brows. Mal’s right, he thought. I do need to stop analyzing this situation and just wait to see how it all unfolds, tonight. Checking his watch again, he saw it was time to greet his next clients. Pasting on a smile, he opened the door and called to the couple sitting in the waiting room. “Karen and Josh? Please, come in.”

  Chapter One

  Seph finished out his day and headed back to his downtown apartment to shower and change clothes. He settled on a casual pair of charcoal-colored linen slacks and a burgundy cashmere pullover sweater. He could count on Mal to show up in leather pants and chains to fit his rock star status. Father is going to love that, Seph thought, remembering the first time his brother wore a concert T-shirt and a pair of jeans riddled with holes to a family dinner. Father had ordered his rebellious son to go up to his room and not come back down until he found a decent pair of pants and a clean shirt. Seph had to chuckle to himself. And then Mal came back, still in his punk duds, with one of Drew’s suits on a hanger that he draped on his chair like it was sitting down to eat with us, proclaiming that he’d “found” the suit, just like Father told him.

  A limousine waited for Seph at the curb when he stepped out of his building. His father’s personal driver stood beside it. Seph broke into a grin. “Fritz! I didn’t realize Father was sending you to pick me up.”

  The older man tipped his chauffer’s hat and smiled. “I have orders to retrieve all the boys,” he said. He opened the door and Seph peered inside, seeing his four clutch mates already occupying the bench seats. Drew and Vann each had glasses of single malt scotch from the bar, while Mal – unsurprisingly – drank from the bottle. Don seemed more preoccupied with his smart phone, the screen’s glow reflecting off the lenses of his wire-rimmed glasses.

  “Hey, there he is!” Drew said.

  “Get in here,” Vann said, moving over and slapping the spot beside him. He whistled at Mal. “Yo, Metal Head! How about a drink for our brother? Preferably from a bottle you haven’t put your mouth on.”

  Mal took another swig of scotch while giving Vann a middle-finger salute.

  “It’s okay, I’ll get my own,” Seph said, climbing into the car. As Fritz closed the door behind him, Seph helped himself to a splash of vodka. The limo began to move and Seph settled back for the ride. He glanced around at his siblings. Drew and Don had opted for the same conservative attire favored by Seph, trousers with button-down shirts and casual jackets, short hair well-groomed. Father will approve, he thought. He looked at Vann, who had twisted his light brown locks into a man-bun to go with the hipster scarf around his neck; a green plaid shirt stretched tight across his broad chest and bulging biceps, and his straight-leg jeans had been turned up at the ankle. Seph pursed his lips. He might pass inspection – barely.

  His attention shifted to Mal. As predicted, Mal had chosen tight black jeans, motorcycle boots, and a leather vest to show off the tattoo sleeves running the length of his lean but muscular arms. His sandy blond hair had been dyed black and framed his lean face like a lion’s mane. He had as much metal in his ears as he did on his fingers. Father’s going to love that, Seph thought, hiding his smile behind his glass as he took a sip.

  Conversation remained light and work-related, for the most part. Soon, the city lights began to disappear. They rode along dark, winding roads leading upstate toward the rolling hills of country estates built with old money
by the nation’s industrial pioneers. Vovin Steel had been one such business. Their great-grandfather had come over from Europe and opened a forge which produced some of the materials used to establish railroads, and construction materials for buildings still standing in parts of the city. The family fortune continued to thrive under their father. Seph knew Father had always hoped at least one of his sons would have followed in his footsteps and assumed management duties; instead, he allowed them all to find their own paths. But he had also warned them all that a day might come when he would hand over complete control of the Vovin empire to one of them. Maybe that’s what this is about, Seph thought, as the car glided through the opened gates and made its way toward the manor house. He’s going to choose one of us, tonight. His eyes cut to Drew. More than likely it will be him. He’s a D.A., his experience with the law will come in handy.

  Seph did not share his speculations with his brothers, deciding to let this play out as he often did with his clients during therapy. Observe, consider, and then give your opinion. His initial thought was that he would not contest their father’s decision unless for some reason he picked Vann or Mal. I would have to give my professional assessment that he’s out of his mind for choosing one of them.

  They were greeted at the door by one of the servants. Like Fritz, Paul had been with the family for a long time and had been trained as a proper British butler. Seph smiled at him. “Good evening, Paul. How have you been?”

  “Good evening, sir, and I am quite well, thank you for asking.” He made a sweeping gesture with one hand. “If you will all please follow me; I have orders to escort you directly to your father’s study.”

  “Whoa,” Mal said, chuckling. “Father’s not wasting any time – usually we get The Talk after we’ve had dinner.” He arched an eyebrow at Paul. “There…will…be dinner, right?”

  Paul responded with a thin smile. “Of course, sir,” he said. “Normally, the evening meal is served promptly at six, but tonight your father has asked that it be pushed back to seven.”

 

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