by Lynsay Sands
Sherry merely ducked her head, unsure how to respond to that. Did she hate him? The truth was, she wasn't at all sure how she felt anymore. Her emotions were in complete chaos. She was recalling her adoration of her wonderful Uncle Al, her sisterly love for her best buddy Lex, and the friendship she had with Zander, and then putting that next to her revulsion and rage at the thought of her mother being controlled and used like a blow-up sex doll. She wanted to hate the man before her for what he'd done to her mother . . . but her mind was arguing that he had tried to make amends for it. After the encounter at the hospital, he'd stuck around to ensure that everything was all right. Another man might not have done that, or another immortal.
Still, he'd nearly destroyed her mother. She'd nearly taken not only her own life but Sherry's as well when she'd tried to kill herself--and he'd driven her to it with his selfish, arrogant, and uncaring use of her. On the other hand, if he hadn't done it, she wouldn't even exist.
Basil slid his arm around her back and pulled her closer, and Sherry glanced to him. He offered her a gentle smile and then turned to Alexander--her father, she acknowledged--and asked, "I presume it was you who approached her in the dressing room in London?"
"Yes," Alexander said solemnly.
When he didn't explain himself, Basil asked, "Why did you want her to think she'd encountered Leo? I presume it was to get her to leave Port Henry and come back to Toronto."
"Yes," he admitted. "Joan called me after the upset at the store and before your people got there to wipe minds and clean up the mess. Between what she said and what I know of Leonius Livius, I knew Sherry would have been taken into protection . . . and I knew . . ." He paused and then said with frustration, "I knew the hunters would realize that she'd had an immortal in her life for a lot of years and would want to find out who it was and why. I knew that eventually everything would come out if I didn't get her away, and I just panicked."
"How did you follow us to Port Henry?" Basil asked.
"I knew where the Enforcer house is, most immortals in the area do," he added, and then continued, "I parked down the street and watched the gate from there with binoculars. When the SUV came out with Sherry, you, and the others in it, I followed you to Port Henry."
"And watched the house there, and then followed us to London the next day?" Basil guessed.
Alexander nodded. "I didn't know, though, that she was your life mate when I first approached her in the changing rooms and started to put the idea that she'd seen Leonius in her mind," he assured Basil. "I read that in her thoughts as I was rearranging her memories, and once I realized it, I tried to undo the rearranging." He grimaced and added, "I gather I made a bungle of the whole thing."
Basil grunted in the affirmative, and Alexander--her father, she thought grimly--sighed unhappily.
"I'm sorry," he said now. "I was just trying to look out for you, Sherry."
"Were you?" she asked dubiously, her eyes narrowed.
"Yes," he assured her. "It's all I've ever wanted to do since the day you were born."
Sherry merely stared at him for a moment. She was recalling those phrasings she kept repeating when certain subjects came up. The one about Uncle Al had obviously been to protect him, to keep anyone from questioning her too deeply about an uncle who was no longer around. Probably even to explain it to her should she have questions about his absence. But what about the other two? The one about her broken engagement. And the one about not having time to date until her store was up and running?
Now that she was thinking about her breakup with Carl, the artist, she couldn't recall why they had broken up exactly. Even worse, she didn't even remember actually doing it.
"What are you thinking about?" Alexander asked quietly, and reached toward her, but Sherry backed up a step, out of his reach. They had said she'd built up a resistance to having her mind read in general, but more specifically to whomever was the immortal in her life. This man. He had to touch her to read her, she suspected, and definitely to control her, and she was beginning to suspect he'd controlled a lot of her life.
Lifting her chin, she glared at him. "It just didn't work out. It's better that way."
Alexander stilled, alarm flashing across his face.
"You put that thought in my head, just like you put the thought about Uncle Al just fading from my life there," Sherry accused.
"Yes," he confessed quietly, and then rushed on, "It was for your own good, honey. Carl was a waste of space. All he did was smoke pot and strut around with a paintbrush in hand. You were so much better than that. You were hardworking and had ambitions and he was an anchor dragging you down."
"I loved him," Sherry cried, but wasn't sure she really had even as she said it. Her memories of that time were foggy at best.
"Sherry, he was getting you into pot and other drugs. You were losing the thread of your life," he said quietly.
"I was not," she gasped with disbelief. "I've never done drugs in my life."
"You did with him," Alexander argued. "Not at first, but then one night after a party where you'd had too much to drink you had a couple tokes with him, and then it happened again and again. And then he got you to try acid, and mushrooms . . ." His mouth tightened. "You were going off the rails. Buying his nonsense that no one should have to work, that the birds don't dress up in suits and go to an office every day and people shouldn't have to either."
"I wasn't," Sherry denied, but with a little less fervor. That phrase sounded vaguely familiar. Frowning, she argued, "Birds may not put on suits, but they do work. They build nests, and they have to hunt food."
"Exactly, and that's what you said when you were sober. But once he started getting you into drugs, you started slipping. And the day you repeated his nonsense line about the birds to me as if it were gospel, I knew I had to intervene."
Sherry was silent, confusion rife in her head as memories began to flood her now. Chilling on the couch in a marijuana haze, dancing through the park watching the light trails of fireflies on acid, hallucinations after eating mushrooms.
"Your mother was worried sick about you, and tried to talk you around, to get you to see what was happening. But in your heart you blamed her for your parents' divorce. If she hadn't blamed him, if she'd just tried to talk to him, you thought, they might still be together. So the more she criticized and talked, the more rebellious you got and the more you let him convince you to do," he said grimly.
"You started to skip classes. Your grades started to drop. Your whole future was going up in smoke and I debated what to do, and then the day you caught him in bed with your next door neighbor--"
"What?" Sherry squawked, even as an image flew into her head.
"You were pissed, and when you came to me and told me, I hoped you'd finally end it, but then he showed up and started giving you some nonsense about man not being naturally monogamous, that most animals weren't and it was all cool, he still loved only you but why shouldn't you both have some fun. I could tell you were confused. I was afraid you were going to go back to him, so I . . ."
"So you took control of me, broke us up, and erased all of this from my head," Sherry said slowly.
"It was better that way," Alexander assured her. "You got back on track right away. Your grades came back up, you were more studious and determined than ever."
She nodded slowly and simply asked, "And the part about wanting the store to be up and running before bothering with dating?"
"I . . . it was what you wanted. And you wouldn't take money from me. I thought if you were stable, with a steady income, I could worry less about you. And you have such poor taste in men, honey."
He reached toward her again and Sherry again jerked back.
"How many mistakes like Carl, the artist, did you prevent?" she asked grimly.
"What?" he asked warily.
"How many times have you intervened in my life?" Sherry asked, her voice steel now. "How many 'wrong men' did you stop me from going out with? How many bad decisions di
d you keep me from making or change for me? How much of my life was actually my own?" she ended heavily.
"I . . ." Alexander shook his head helplessly. "I was just trying to keep you from making mistakes."
"They were my mistakes to make," Sherry snapped. "It was my life. It's a part of growing up and maturing."
"I was just doing what any parent would do," Alexander said impatiently. "Every parent tries to keep their kid from making mistakes."
"They do," she agreed, "But every parent can't take control of their child, erase or replace memories and make them do what they want. You literally ran my life. I don't know now what was me and what was you. Did I even want to own my own business or is that something else you put in my head?"
"You did," he assured her. "It was what you wanted from when you were little. I just helped you get that."
"By keeping me from going off the rails," she suggested.
"Exactly. I kept you on track," Alexander said with relief, now that she appeared to understand.
"You steered the goddamned train that was my life," Sherry snapped. "You took over my life and ran it the way you decided it should be."
"You wanted to own your own business," he argued desperately.
"And before that I probably wanted to be a ballerina or a singer," she said dryly, and then remembered, "When I got to university I didn't care as much for business courses as I thought I would, but I loved the psychology courses I took and considered switching my major. Did you have anything to do with my staying in business?"
"No one gets a job with a degree in one of the ologies unless they go all the way to get their doctorate," he said impatiently.
"One of the ologies?" Basil queried.
"Psychology, sociology, archaeology," Alexander rattled them off. "B.A.'s in any of them is basically toilet tissue."
"That's your opinion," Sherry snapped. "And who says I wouldn't have gone all the way to get my doctorate?"
"Your mother couldn't afford to put you through all the way to a doctorate," he said with irritation.
"I was getting one hundred percent on my exams. The university pulled me aside and offered to help. They said there were grants for people who did as well as me," she reminded him coldly. "You know that. I told you when you were Lex Luth--Dear God, you really are my Lex Luther," she realized suddenly. "You're the bad guy in my life."
"No," Alexander protested. "I was just trying to help."
"Help me to be what you wanted me to be," she snapped, and turned to Basil. "I've heard enough. I--" She stopped abruptly as she spotted someone to her right. Turning, she stared at Lucian Argeneau. She almost asked him when he'd arrived and how long he'd been there listening, but it didn't really matter. Even if he hadn't heard it all, a quick read of her mind would tell him everything that had been said.
"If you're done speaking with your father, I'll have Bricker take him to the Enforcer house," Lucian said mildly.
"Why?" she asked uncertainly.
"Because I broke one of our laws and interfered in a mortal marriage," Alexander said quietly, moving past her to Lucian's side as Bricker stepped off the stairs and approached him. "It's time to face the music."
"He will be held until the council can gather, hear his case, and pass judgment," Basil said quietly in explanation.
"We don't use handcuffs, buddy," Bricker said when her father held his wrists out. "Immortals can just break them anyway. I'll just trust you not to try to break and run and walk you out to the SUV."
Alexander let his arms drop, but then turned back to Sherry. "I've made a lot of mistakes with you, Sherry. I'm sorry. My only excuse is that you are my first child and I . . ." He sighed and shook his head, and then said, "I know what the punishment is and I'll take it. And while I regret that I hurt your mother emotionally, I don't regret what I did, and knowing everything I know now, I would do it again. If I hadn't done it, your mother and I wouldn't have had you, and I think she'd agree with me that you are worth the emotional pain she suffered, and you're certainly worth the physical pain I am going to suffer." He raised a hand as if to caress her cheek, but then let it drop and sighed. "I hope after it's done we can talk and I can still be a part of your life. I do love you, sweetheart. You're my daughter."
He turned back to Bricker then and nodded. Justin took his arm and urged him toward the stairs leading down to the door that opened into the alley.
"Fortunately for you, we parked in the alley rather than take the time to try to find a spot on the street," Bricker explained to her father as they paused at the back door and he unlocked it.
"Why is that fortunate for me?" Alexander asked dryly.
"Because Victor and Elvi drove up today and are in the front of the store," Bricker explained as he unlocked the door. "And I'm pretty sure Elvi wants to kick your ass for showing up in London and scaring the hell out of her with that trick you played in the dressing rooms," Bricker said dryly.
"I didn't go anywhere near Elvi," he said quietly.
"Yeah, but just the hint that Leo was in the area had them pulling Stephanie out of Port Henry, and Elvi's a mama bear who now wants to tear apart the immortal who got between her and her baby bear," Bricker said wryly.
"Right," Alexander said with a sigh as Bricker opened the door and urged him out of the office.
The back door swung closed and Sherry stared at it in utter confusion. She was angry, and hurt, and so very unsure who she was anymore. She had no idea how much of her life was made up of her own decisions and how much had been Alexander's. It just wasn't a problem she'd ever imagined having before learning about the existence of immortals.
"I need a word," Lucian said to Basil.
Basil hesitated and then turned to Sherry and clasped her face in his hands. Peering into her eyes with concern, he asked, "Will you be okay for a minute alone?"
Sherry nodded and cleared her throat. "Of course. I'll just . . ." She waved vaguely toward her desk, unsure what she would just do. Sit around and think about everything she'd learned, probably. Try to sort out how many of her life decisions were her own and whether she really wanted to be where she was, or if instead she was where Alexander had wanted her to be.
"Are you sure?" Basil asked with a frown.
Obviously, she hadn't been convincing, Sherry thought wryly, and straightened her shoulders. "I'm fine. Go ahead and talk to Lucian. I'll be waiting here when you're done."
Basil still looked concerned, but he kissed her gently and then released her face and followed Lucian down into the store. Sherry watched them go, then started to turn toward her desk, but paused as the sound of a vehicle starting and driving away drew her gaze back to the door. Bricker had unlocked it to leave, but couldn't lock it from the outside. She should do that now, she thought, but paused and glanced toward the door to the store when it opened.
"Sherry?" Elvi called, and then said, "Oh," when she spotted her at the top of the stairs. "Can I come up?" she asked uncertainly.
"Of course," Sherry said quietly.
Nodding, Elvi slipped through the door and hurried up the steps to join her on the landing between the two sets of stairs. She hesitated once there, and then pulled her into a hard hug. "I'm so sorry, Sherry. I shouldn't have said those things. I was just scared that we were going to lose Stephanie. That's no excuse, I know, but I really am terribly sorry."
Sherry hugged the woman back without hesitation. "I know. It's okay. I understand."
"But can you forgive me?" Elvi asked, easing back. "I was cruel and nasty, and I'm never cruel or nasty."
"You were a mama bear protecting her cub," Sherry said, recalling Bricker's words. She patted Elvi's shoulder. "Victor explained everything, and I really do understand. Stephanie is like a daughter to you."
"Yeah. I guess it's a parent thing," Elvi said wryly. "We occasionally do stupid things because we care so damned much. But somehow we never expect our parents to be human and mess up too. I mean I don't know what I would have done if I found out Stepha
nie was doing drugs. Well, if she was mortal and I could control her, I'd probably do what your father did and just take control and make her stop. Which I suppose is a horrible thing to admit," she added.
Sherry narrowed her eyes slowly, and then asked without anger, "Reading my mind again?"
"Actually, no," Elvi said, and when Sherry didn't hide her disbelief, added, "The intercom was on in the store. We could hear everything."
"What?" Sherry gasped, and whirled toward her desk. She spotted the intercom panel at the corner of her desk . . . and it was still on. She must have sat on it when she'd perched there early in the conversation with her father, she realized, and now rushed over to shut it off.
"It's okay," Elvi said soothingly when Sherry ran her fingers into her hair with a moan. "Decker and Anders took control of your employees and sent them to lunch, then locked the doors and put the Closed sign up so no customers entered and heard anything."
"But they heard everything," she said on a sigh. "And so did you and whoever else is down there."
Elvi nodded apologetically. "Sorry. If I were a better person I would have walked out of the store and waited until it was over before coming back in, but . . ." She shrugged helplessly. "I guess I'm not as good a person as I always thought I was."
"That or you're as curious as the rest of the world and couldn't resist," Sherry said, and then patted her arm. "Don't worry, I'm not mad. I probably wouldn't have been able to make myself leave either. It's like a wreck on the side of the road--no one can resist slowing to look as they pass."
"Hmmm." Elvi nodded, but then pointed out, "On the bright side, though, none of us will be reading your mind on your way out to see what happened."
Sherry gave a half laugh at that, knowing it was exactly what would have happened if the intercom hadn't been on. There seemed to be no such thing as privacy among these people. It made her wonder if they had to be better people because of it. She was certainly finding herself editing her thoughts a lot . . . and she didn't even consider herself a bad person, but she did have thoughts once in a while that could be hurtful or rude if spoken aloud.