by Mia Marshall
A little while later, I awoke again. The sun was bright through the window, but it seemed to have inched its way across the sky. Cobwebs still clung to my mind, and I fought through them. I expected to hear some kind of noise, the sound of battles being engaged or victories celebrated. There was nothing. This was not the scene of a recent uncontrolled fire or rampaging shifter. It was nearly silent.
But only nearly. Downstairs, I heard something. I stretched my hearing, trying to isolate the sound from the ever-present noises outside my window. The clink of glasses, the sound synonymous with Brian’s presence, carried lightly up the stairs, along with his voice, calm and stable.
He was not alone. A second voice rumbled its reply. I couldn’t make out the words, merely the tone, so warm and deep it would be comforting in a different situation. They were not fighting. They were chatting, in my kitchen, as if they were invited guests rather than intruders. Their voices were so quiet it was difficult to distinguish the tone of the conversation, but the occasional long pause between speakers suggested possible tension.
This was an unexpected turn. The only reason I could believe Brian possessed both ice and earth magic was that I had seen him use both, just as I had watched Trent control water and ice. It was the only way I could accept this absolute contradiction of everything I, and every other elemental, had been taught. But believing the impossible had a marked upside. It meant, as horrifying as it was to consider, that Brian committed all the murders, past and present. He worked alone. The crime was solved.
The deep voice downstairs defied my efforts to neatly solve the Tahoe murders.
The warped floorboards announced the stranger’s path through the house. It was a medium tread, lighter than Brian’s determined footfalls. Based on the voice and the weight of the steps, I guessed it was a man, of at most average height. He opened the front door and walked onto the porch. A moment later, I heard the gentle creak of the bench as the intruder made himself at home. I felt rage that my home should be claimed by anyone else, and a worrying tickle of fear that I had so little control over my own fate. It built steadily in my stomach, and I fought to dampen it, needing all the control I could muster. Even if Brian’s cocktail worked, I only needed the water close to my body. About a centimeter above my right wrist, to be specific.
I visualized one spot on the rope and doused it with repeated droplets of water, attempting to weaken it. I only stopped when I heard Brian move up the stairs, closing my eyes and slowing my breathing in an effort to appear asleep.
I needn’t have bothered. The first thing he did was feel my restraints, the damp section on the right one painfully obvious. “Give me some credit, Aidan. It’s nylon rope.”
Well, damn. “Can’t blame a girl for trying. I prefer my bondage fun time to be consensual, you know.”
“Didn’t your mama teach you it’s not polite to tease?” His eyes scanned my body, lingering on the ropes that kept me bound and helpless. Despite being almost wholly defenseless, I did not feel threatened by his gaze. It wasn’t, I realized, lust that animated those chilly blue eyes. It was greed and possession, an acquisitive gleam both cold and deliberate.
He untied the bonds with nimble fingers. “Doesn’t matter. It’s time. Believe me, Aidan, I wish we weren’t in such a rush. I know you don’t really understand yet, that you think I’m a monster, no matter what you might pretend to the contrary, but I don’t have time to explain just yet.” He was right, of course. I did think he was a monster, and always would. But once again I hid my hatred. I nodded at him, figuring a calm homicidal maniac was preferable to the alternative.
He let me use the facilities. The upstairs bathroom had a tiny window and a single door. No escape was possible, which was almost certainly why I’d been left alone. I did a quick scan for weapons, but I’d given vanity a ten year vacation. Not even a can of hairspray presented itself, let alone a heated curling iron or sharp hairpin. Giving up, I decided to stall, figuring a passive defense was still better than no defense at all. It was only a matter of time before Sera figured out where I’d gone and joined me. Honestly, I was surprised she hadn’t already arrived. Any minute now, I thought to myself. Any minute now.
Unfortunately, that minute didn’t come before Brian rapped on the door. When I joined him, he looked amused. He indicated I should head down the stairs, and he followed closely. “I know you’re hoping Sera’s going to swoop in to save the day. You’re right, of course. She’s on her way this moment. Probably has a car full of those weak-blooded elementals and furry abominations she likes to treat as equal to the true powers in her life.” His voice did not change to reflect the poison he was spewing. It remained upbeat and cheerful. “She’ll be too late, though. She only just passed through Ashland.”
At the foot of the stairs, I turned to face him. I had to look up, as he was still several stairs above me. “How do you know where Sera is?” Accusation colored my voice. He should not have access to this information.
Before he could reply, a voice drifted in from the porch. It was the speaker from the kitchen, his voice still warm and welcoming—and, I realized now that I could hear it clearly, familiar. “My dear Ms. Brook, of course you have questions. Of course you do. This has all been handled just abominably.” His voice sharpened on that last word, a momentary flash of anger. “And it’s not how I wished you to learn your answers. But there is no time like the present, so please, come join me.”
Being invited to sit on my own porch rankled. I kept the irritation to myself, because, at the moment, there was a psychotic ice/earth hybrid at my back and one of the most powerful fires on earth sat before me, waiting for me to join him. If ever there was a time to learn a bit of self control, this was it. Unfortunately, given everything I now knew for certain, and the considerable amount I suspected was true, I could think of only one reason why Josiah Blais was sitting on my porch, and that reason did little for my self-control.
I stepped outside. “Hello, father.”
Chapter 23
It was a shot in the dark. I fully expected Josiah Blais to knit his black brows together in confusion and ask what on earth I was talking about, then simply chalk my ridiculous conclusion up to the emotional trauma of being held against my will. That was my dearest hope, at least.
He laughed, a loud, boisterous laugh, and I felt the tension ease from me. This was the correct response, amusement at my ludicrous presumption. There was another reason for his presence at my house that had nothing to do with my paternity. My relief lasted for mere seconds.
“Oh, Aidan. Thank you. This makes things so much easier. I was worried I’d have to spend the next hour convincing you of that one simple fact, and we really don’t have much time to spare.” He stood up quickly from the bench, his spry movements completely at odds with his centuries, or even millennia, of life, and took both my hands in his. “My daughter,” he whispered, staring at me intently.
My stomach turned to stone, my body becoming dense and rigid. I’d never been quite so horrified to be right. Some distant part of my mind detached and began to point out all kinds of unimportant details. I had never noticed that I was taller than Josiah, that he had a small speck of gold in his right eye, that his hands were so gentle and soft. “This is not my beautiful life,” I murmured under my breath.
“Hmm?” He arched one quizzical brow.
“Nothing. Just something from a band Sera likes.” Sera. This was her father. “How long have you known? Why did no one tell me?”
“To answer your first question, a long time. Your mother did her utmost to keep you a secret, but I fear she underestimated how much I cared for her. I checked in every now and then, just to see how she was. Imagine my surprise when she suddenly had a tow-headed little water following her everywhere.”
It wasn’t enough proof. I leaned against the railing and crossed my arms. “But why did you think I was yours?”
“I looked up your birth records. Date, place, anything. They didn’t exist. There was
only one reason she would be so determined to hide your origins.”
“Why would she want to hide me from you?”
He shook his head, his earlier joy vanishing under the weight of his new thought. “She didn’t. She wanted to hide your birth from everyone.”
It made no sense. “Considering that everyone on the island knew I existed, she didn’t do a very good job of that one.”
A sharp glance to Brian, who lingered in the doorway. “You didn’t tell her?”
“No time.”
“But you had time to render her unconscious and tie her to the bed?” The words possessed a sharp bite, suggesting the tension I’d noticed earlier still lingered between them. “I would like to speak with my daughter.” When Brian began to move inside the house, keys flashed through the air. Brian caught them easily. “Alone,” said Josiah. Brian looked displeased at being summarily dismissed but chose not to argue. A moment later, Josiah’s black luxury coupe rolled smoothly down the driveway.
“Is it safe to send him into town?” Enough people had died because of Brian’s connection to me, and I wanted to avoid sending him on a tri-state killing spree. And, as much as I wanted to be free of Brian, I didn’t know that Josiah was a safer companion. I feared I’d climbed out of the fire and into the volcano.
“He does like to kill,” Josiah idly responded, in the same tone he might use to tell me about Brian’s enjoyment of crochet or bowling. “A problem we’re working on, I assure you. Brian’s future stability is my top priority. Fortunately, these days he likes to feel some connection to the victim. Or feel they are connected to you, to be more specific.” He sat on the bench and casually crossed his legs, right ankle to left knee.
His easy disregard for Brian’s actions was chilling, and I struggled to remain calm. “I thought you were helping us solve this! Did you know he was doing this, all along?”
“Well, I certainly didn’t want those people to die. Don’t be ridiculous. It is most inconvenient, and harder to cover up our involvement than one might think. Plus, I understand that, due to Brian’s actions, there are now two federal agents aware of our world? A most unfortunate turn of events. If it helps, I’ll do what I can to keep the others from turning on you.”
“My expulsion from the community is not my top concern right now,” I bit out. So much for calm.
He continued as if I hadn’t spoken. “Sadly, I can’t blame Brian for it all. I fear I was a bit impetuous, myself.”
“The burned man.” We’d been right.
“I didn’t kill him, I assure you. He was already dead, left in an alley behind a bar with a large hole in his head. I merely performed an impromptu incineration.” Josiah’s voice could swoop and dive from one emotion to the next with little warning, and now it swerved from detached amusement to enraged father with a roller coaster’s speed. “Sera was in prison. That was unacceptable.”
“But it was Brian who put her there! Who inconveniently killed all those people.” I was sure he didn’t miss the sarcasm. “Why are you overlooking everything he did? Why did you pretend you were trying to catch him?”
“Don’t be naive. I had to go through the motions. If I couldn’t stop Brian, I had to at least make a token effort, until I could figure out what to do about his unfortunate desires. Sera expected it of me. I couldn’t let her down. Think what you may about me, but I take care of my family.” He stared directly at me, his voice hard and unforgiving. I shuddered to think that I could be counted amongst his family. “I did attempt to rein him in. We had very strong words after his little stunt with the camera—both times—but I fear it made no difference at all. He was determined for you to notice him, one way or the other.” His statement was ridiculous when I considered the power he possessed.
I pushed away from him, putting several feet between us. “You could have stopped him! You knew what he was doing, and you are more powerful than he is! You’ve had ten years to stop him. Why is he still free?” I couldn’t hide my anguish. None of this made any sense, and I desperately needed it to make sense. His ability to answer that question would tell me whether this man, my father, was a monster in his own right.
He spoke deliberately, holding my eyes and ensuring that I caught every word. “He is free because I need him to understand the connection between dual magic users and insanity. I do not care if he kills a hundred humans, if it gives me the answers I seek. He is free because, right now, he is the only thing I have that might save you from that very fate.”
He refused to expand on his comment about my insanity, insisting that a demonstration would better illustrate the point. Part of me—a very large part—wanted to sit on the porch with my arms crossed and refuse to move until he explained himself. The smaller, reasonable part, knew that Josiah would happily wait me out, probably while singing a jaunty song, and I couldn’t afford a delay. I needed whatever information I could get before Brian’s return.
That was why I currently stood with him near the pond, awaiting his orders.
“Calm yourself. Take several long breaths, finding your center.” I stared at him, disbelief clear on my face. “Well, as best you can at the moment, all things considered. Gather some water together,” he instructed.
I did as he asked, closing my eyes and trying, for just a moment, to forget everything that had happened in the last couple days. I found a brief moment of quiet, but it was enough. I pulled a large orb of water from the pond, setting it to spin above the surface. “Control it. Move it around. Feel how natural it is.” I did, and that familiar sense of home, of rightness, settled upon me, the calm becoming easier to maintain.
“Your mother is a lovely woman,” he said. “Beautiful, of course, but you see that every time you look in a mirror. But she was so much more. Intelligent and regal, with a firmness so often lacking in your kind. She was a placid lake, not an impermanent river or tempestuous ocean. I was really quite fond of her.”
“Why are you telling me this?” As much as I wanted to learn about the mysterious circumstances surrounding my birth, I thought it could wait while we dealt with more pressing matters—like the homicidal maniac Josiah seemed determined to let live. My control slipped for a moment, and I fought my way back to that quiet place.
He ignored my question. “I still remember when I first met her. She was vacationing near my Hawaii compound. She loved all the tropical rains. She was dressed in an aquamarine bikini with a light blue sarong wrapped around her slim hips, though it served more to draw attention to their perfect shape than to conceal them.”
“Inappropriate,” I muttered.
“That was the first time I had ever been with a full water. The only time. It was a revelation. She was so very… fluid.”
“Oh, god. Stop. I’m begging you.” I desperately tried to scrub the image of Josiah and my mother from my brain.
“Pull the water to you. Do it now.” It was a command, and I did as he asked before I had a chance to consider it. The water flowed to me easily. “Excellent. You were uncomfortable and more than a little ‘creeped out,’ as Sera might say. Slightly emotionally unstable. And yet, perfect control. Move the water back to its starting position.”
I did, and waited several long moments. I watched him carefully, trying to find some clue to what he sought to accomplish. The old ones were often mysterious and inscrutable, but there had to be a reason he hadn’t thrown me in the car and carried me directly to safety the moment Brian left. For the life of me, I couldn’t figure out what that reason was. I felt no sense of immediate danger from Josiah, but the fact that we were still here, still talking instead of fleeing back to Tahoe suggested I wasn’t yet out of harm’s way.
He wasn’t in a rush. He plucked several long blades of grass and twisted them around his fingers, considering his next words carefully. I waited, squashing down each wave of dread that rose in me as the silence lengthened. Whatever happened, I needed my calm, needed my magic. “Brian is enamored of you.”
“He sure seems to th
ink so.”
“I’m afraid it’s an obsession. I once thought it was a harmless crush, but I see how he is with you. He wants you.”
“And I want a pony and a magical tree that grows nothing but chocolate Easter candy. Life is full of disappointments.”
He continued as if I hadn’t spoken. “I fear you will never escape him.” I felt the truth of his words shiver up my spine. “I’m sure you noticed he’s not insane all the time. Certainly, I could lock him up, but if I do so, I lose the opportunity to observe him interacting in the world and to learn what triggers the insanity. We need to know this, Aidan. This is vital knowledge for your own future.”
“I’ll take the risk,” I assured him. “Really. It’s okay. Lock him up.”
Once again, he ignored me, continuing his quiet musing. “If I decide your future sanity is the most important thing—which it is, my daughter, make no mistake—then I can’t lock him up. And he will never leave you alone. He will follow you. He will hunt you down, and he will claim you, one way or another.”
I pictured the life he painted, constantly running from a man determined to possess me for twisted reasons of his own—and even that horrible future depended on Josiah saving me from Brian. The man’s end game remained terrifyingly unclear. Before Josiah arrived, I’d been at the mercy of one man more powerful than me. Now, I was controlled by two.
He saw the exact moment I realized this. “Now. Pull the water.” Again, I grabbed the water easily, and he smiled, unconcerned about the emotional havoc he’d wreaked in achieving his purpose. “Exactly as I thought. Fear, though an extremely destabilizing emotion, also does not affect your water use. I guessed as much after you put out the house fire. You vanished so quickly after the warehouse fire, I was never able to confirm why you lost control, but obviously it was a different situation than at the house. Were you scared at the warehouse?”
He sounded like he’d been studying me, his own personal lab rat. “Yes. It’s always fear that affects the magic.”