by Lynsay Sands
"I could not care less about your father's equipment," Lucian assured her dryly.
"What if it was your father?" Sherry asked grimly. "And stop talking about his equipment. According to you guys, it would heal, but I'm concerned about the pain punishing him like that would put him through."
"You don't think he deserves it?" Lucian asked mildly. "Your mother did nearly kill herself, and you," he added heavily, "because of what he did to her."
"But she didn't," Sherry said quietly. "And he has spent the last thirty-two years trying to make up for it. Don't you guys have a statute of limitations on your crimes?"
"Honey," Basil said quietly, taking her hand. "If we let him go unpunished, we could be accused of favoritism, because he's your father. We can't have one law for us and another for those who aren't connected to the families."
"Aside from that," Lucian said, "others might think we are softening and may commit the offense, expecting we will let them get away with it too."
Sherry ground her teeth with frustration, but it was Justin who said, "It's a pretty barbaric law anyway. I mean, times have changed. Divorce is more common, and husbands don't usually kill wives now for infidelity . . . well, not in most countries."
"So, that makes it all right for an immortal to use our abilities to interfere in a marriage that otherwise might have been fine?" Lucian asked. "To make a woman have sex when she otherwise would not have?"
"No, I suppose not," Justin said on a sigh, and then rallied and added, "But if that's the concern, then the law should apply to immortal women now too. A wife is just as likely to divorce her husband if he is unfaithful as a man is now. At least here."
"He's right," Basil said solemnly. "When we made the law, mortal men had mistresses by course. The wife not only often knew that, but expected it. Now . . ." He shrugged.
Lucian nodded. "We shall have to revisit the law."
"I don't care about your law, I care about my father," Sherry said with frustration. "He has tried to make amends. As far as I know, he's never even dated since then."
"What?" Bricker asked with amazement, meeting her gaze in the rearview mirror. "Seriously?"
"As far as I know, he never dated anyone as Lex or Zander. And while I was young at the time, I don't think he did as Uncle Al either."
There was silence for a moment and then Lucian and Basil exchanged a glance, before Lucian said. "We shall talk to your father when we get to the house. I will read him and see what he has or hasn't done."
"And then?" Sherry demanded.
"And then we shall see," he said simply.
"Maybe you could give him a suspended sentence," Sherry suggested. "You know, permanent probation or whatever. If he never does it again, he's fine. But if he does, he receives the punishment for this time plus that time."
"We shall see," is all Lucian said, and then he turned and faced front, making it obvious the conversation was closed.
Sherry sat back in her seat with a little sigh and then glanced to Basil when he squeezed her hand.
"You don't seem to be as angry with your father as you first were," he pointed out solemnly.
Sherry grimaced, and then admitted, "Elvi said some things that made me think, and then when Leo had me . . ." She bit her lip as she recalled her fear then, but pushed past it and said, "I remembered the good about him instead of the bad. He was basically my father as a child after my brother died, taking me to classes and the science center, helping me with my homework . . . He even cooked my dinner for me on occasion when Mom worked late. He was lousy at it," she admitted with a crooked smile. "But he tried."
"It sounds as if he tried to fill the hole Richard Carne left behind when he separated from your mother," Basil said quietly.
"He more than filled it," Sherry said on a sigh. "He paid me more attention and was more of a father than Richard Carne ever was."
"And then he left and came back into your life as Lex," Basil said gently.
Sherry nodded. "As Lex he was my best friend, but . . . Well, I thought of him as an older brother of sorts, but the truth is he was still more of a father figure. He was still doing all the things he had before, advising me on what courses to take, helping me with assignments when I ran into difficulty, making sure I ate when I got wrapped up in studying and stuff."
"And as Zander?" Basil asked.
"The same again. He was my employee and supposedly younger than me, but he was there for me, offering me support and encouragement and helping out however he could."
"It sounds like he devoted a lot of his time to you," Basil said quietly, and then added, "As a father myself, I know how hard it is to get it right, Sherry. We are human, we make mistakes, but he appears to have tried very hard to be a good father to you under the circumstances."
Sherry nodded and then glanced down at their entwined hands and admitted, "You're right. He did." She grimaced and then added, "I'm not happy that he controlled me, but I realized after talking to Elvi that it's what parents do. Mortal parents use punishments and groundings and stuff to control their kids, not actually taking control of them. But it's a parent's job to keep their child away from drugs or other things that might hurt them, and to make them decent, self-sufficient people. And I know that's something that is harder and harder to accomplish in this society. Some parents don't even bother, but Alexander, at least, tried, and he was always there for me."
She fell silent, and when Basil didn't say anything, raised her gaze to him uncertainly, and then paused at his expression. He was staring at her, a softness in his eyes that she'd never seen before. Biting her lip, she tilted her head and then asked, "What?"
"God, I love you Sherry Harlow Carne," he growled, and then kissed her. It wasn't the usual passionate devouring, but a tender caress, and Sherry felt her heart swell and her eyes glaze with tears, and then his tongue slid between her lips and her pants were on fire. Dear God, the man was a match to her tinder. All he had to do was kiss her and she was ready to crawl into his lap and ride him down the highway . . . and she didn't particularly care that Lucian and Bricker were there.
"If you two can untangle yourselves, we have arrived," Lucian said dryly from the front seat.
Sherry moaned with disappointment and leaned her forehead on Basil's chest when he reluctantly broke the kiss. They both remained still as they regained their composure, and then Sherry eased back into her seat and glanced around to see that they had passed through the gates and were coming to a halt in front of the house.
"I expect you'll want to talk to your father," Lucian said, unsnapping his seat belt. "Basil can take you. You have ten minutes."
Sherry scowled at the autocratic man, but was beginning to see that it was impossible to argue with him, so she didn't bother. Instead, she quickly unsnapped her seat belt and scrambled out of the SUV.
"Where is he?" she asked Basil as he closed the door. "In those cells by the dogs?"
When Basil nodded, Sherry caught his hand and started in that direction at a jog.
"Did you want to talk to him alone?" Basil asked when she reached the door to the outbuilding behind the house and suddenly stopped, without reaching to open the door.
"No," she said quickly, spinning to face him. "No, I want you there," and then blurted, "I love you," and spun to open the door.
Sherry was halfway up the first hall when she realized Basil was no longer with her. Frowning, she rushed back to the door and pushed it open to see him standing where she'd left him, looking as if he'd been pole-axed.
"Basil?" she said impatiently.
His gaze flickered up to her face. "You love me?"
Sherry frowned, her gaze going over her shoulder to the building housing her father, but then sighed and stepped back outside. Pausing in front of him, she reached up to cup his face and said, "Yes, Basil. I love you." She followed that up with a gentle kiss, but pulled away before he could deepen it and spun back to the door, adding briskly, "Now let's go. We can talk about this later. We only h
ave ten minutes."
"Right. Later. Ten minutes," Basil muttered, sounding dazed, but when she started up the hall and glanced back this time, he was right on her heels. He was also wearing a goofy grin now, she noted, and found herself donning one as well. Damn, she loved him.
Shaking her head, Sherry took the left hall just past the office and hurried forward. She couldn't hear the dogs this time so supposed they were up at the house being spoiled rotten, or ruined, as Mortimer put it, by Sam. That thought made her smile, and then she pushed through the door leading to the hall of cells and her smile faded.
She found her father in the second cell on the right. He was seated on a cot, a book in hand. But he quickly closed it and got to his feet when he saw her.
"Hi," he said uncertainly when Sherry just stared at him.
"Hi," she murmured back, finding herself backing up until she bumped up against Basil's chest. She relaxed a little when his arms slipped around her, and then blurted, "What's your name? You're my father and I don't even know your name."
Alexander sighed and dropped the book on the bed, then took a couple steps closer to the bars. He paused, though, when Sherry stiffened again.
"I told you, my name is Alexander," he said gently.
Sherry shifted impatiently and moved forward a step, unintentionally moving out of Basil's arms. "I know that. But Alexander what? You were Lex Brown and Zander--"
"Marrone," he answered before she could finish.
"Oh," Sherry said, and then tried out the name. "Alexander Marrone. I suppose it's okay."
"I'm glad you approve," her father said with amusement, and then glanced to Basil when he shifted beside Sherry.
"You aren't Reg's son?" Basil asked with a frown. "The one who's been missing for . . ."
"Thirty-three years," Alexander finished for him dryly when Basil paused with sudden realization. "Now you know where I disappeared to and why."
"Your father's still alive?" Sherry asked Alexander with surprise, and when he nodded, turned to Basil and said, "And you know his father?"
Basil nodded. "Alexander's father, your grandfather, is on the council, Sherry."
Her eyes widened incredulously when he said the word grandfather. She had family besides the aunts and uncles she saw only a couple times a year? She had no idea how to feel about that.
While she turned that over in her mind, Basil eyed her father and said, "I know where you disappeared to, but not necessarily why."
Alexander grimaced. "My father is a very controlling man, and--"
"Shocker," Sherry interrupted dryly, and her father's expression filled with chagrin.
"Yeah, I guess the apple really doesn't fall far from the tree, honey," he said with a sigh. "I am sorry about controlling you. I couldn't think of anything else to do at the time, and I was so worried about you, but today, when you got upset . . ." Alexander shook his head. "What you said wasn't unlike what I said to my own father before storming out of the house the last time we argued," he admitted.
Sherry raised her eyebrows at this and asked, "How old are you?"
"Fifty-two," he answered quietly.
"So you were twenty when you met my mom?" she asked with surprise. Every immortal she'd met until now had been over a hundred. Her father was a baby in comparison, practically like a mortal.
"Nineteen, actually," he admitted, flushing, and then added, "A very arrogant, ignorant nineteen who thought he knew everything, and as it turns out, didn't know a damned thing."
Sherry turned to Basil. "He was just a kid. I mean, practically a baby for you guys. Surely the council would take that into account?"
"Sherry," Alexander said quietly. When she turned back to him, he shook his head. "I don't want you to worry about the council, or my punishment. That isn't your concern, and," he added firmly when she started to protest, "I am willing to take whatever they decide is my punishment." He paused and smiled wryly. "I mean, I'm not looking forward to it, but . . ." He shrugged. "I earned it."
"But--"
"Listen to me. I need you to understand," he interrupted quietly.
Sherry sighed but closed her mouth, then glanced around and smiled in gratitude when Basil shifted behind her to pull her back against his chest and hold her again.
"As you said, I was a kid, but I was headed down the wrong road. I had a friend, Ben, who got me into mixed bloods, and--"
"What are mixed bloods?" Sherry asked with confusion.
"Blood from mortals who have ingested alcohol or drugs," Basil said quietly.
Sherry's eyes widened. "You were biting mortals?"
"No," he assured her. "I hadn't gone that far off the rails. It was bagged blood, and only alcohol mixes. They sell it at the Night Club or you can order it by the case if you want it for home."
"Oh." Sherry relaxed.
"Anyway," Alexander continued, "I started overindulging, going a little wild, doing stupid things. Just petty things, really, but it was enough. My father pulled me in to rake me over the coals. I decided in my arrogance that he was a stupid old fool who didn't have a clue, told him to go to hell and stormed out."
"I find it hard to believe Reg took that well," Basil said dryly.
"Yeah, I figured you knew him when you called him Reg the first time," Alexander said with a wry smile. "He makes most people call him Regulus. Only his friends call him Reg."
"We have served on the council together for a long time," Basil said with a shrug.
Alexander nodded. "To tell you the truth, I don't know how he took it. I wanted to get as far away as I could, somewhere he wouldn't find me."
"And you chose Canada?" Sherry asked with a wince. "Why not somewhere warm and balmy like Florida?"
"Honey, you have an hour and a half more darkness here in southern Ontario in the winter than Florida. For a couple of young vamps eager to party, the longer the darkness lasted meant the longer the party. Besides, someone told us the girls here were . . . er . . . friendlier."
"Those were your deciding factors?" she asked dryly. "Darkness and hos? Really? God, you were young."
"We all were once," he said with amusement.
Shaking her head, she waved at him to continue. "So you and Ben came to Canada, and . . . ?"
"Yeah." He sighed. "I was away from home, my father wouldn't know what I was up to and so couldn't chastise me, and I went a little crazy. We were always partying. We bought bagged mixed blood by the case, and to tell you the truth, I think Ben might have slipped in a couple of black market bags, stuff we shouldn't have been touching. There were a couple of times when I know I had more than an alcohol buzz." He paused briefly, his expression reflective, and then he sighed and shook his head. "Anyway, that's the state I was in when I met your mother."
Alexander met her gaze and admitted, "I said I didn't know she was married, that I merely dipped into her head to see that she was attracted to me and that was it. And that's true, but the fact is, I was in no shape to dip deeper than that. I was so out of it, I'm not even sure I didn't get some whiff that she was married. I mean, it's possible one of the other girls said something, isn't it? If so, I was too far gone to pick up on it."
Basil shifted behind her, and Sherry glanced over her shoulder to see that he was now frowning. After a hesitation, he said, "The nanos would have cleared your system relatively quickly. You said you sat with them until they left. You should have been clear-headed by then and--Oh," he ended on a sigh.
"What 'oh'?" Sherry asked, frowning now herself as she turned back to her father.
"Basil just read my mind," Alexander explained to her, and then said, "What he found was that, like I said, we were buying it in boxes. We had a box in the back of our car most nights, including that one, and we would excuse ourselves saying we were going to take a leak, but instead of going to the men's room we would slip out to suck back another bag or three. We did that any time our buzz showed the least sign of wearing off."
"You were a mess," Sherry said solemnly.
He nodded. "To tell you the truth, if your mother hadn't been so exceptionally lovely, I'm not sure I would have recognized her in the ER when they rolled her in. I didn't remember most of the women I slept with during that time."
Sherry bit her lip. His being drunk didn't excuse what he'd done, but surely it mitigated it somewhat? Maybe?
"I didn't tell you this to give you an excuse. Being in that state does not take away my responsibility for my actions. I chose to be in that state, and then I went out and did exactly what my father said I would do and hurt someone," Alexander said quietly now. "I didn't know it until two months later, but I did. And when I realized . . . well, it was a wake-up call. I haven't touched mixed blood since the day I saw your mother being wheeled into the ER."
"Sherry said she didn't think you've dated since then either," Basil said, and it was a question.
Alexander nodded. "It wasn't because . . . well, I just devoted all my time to Sherry and didn't have time for women." He shifted his gaze to Sherry and moved forward to grip the bars as he said, "So you see, I really did earn my punishment. And it won't be so bad. I was only nineteen, and I'm still young so I heal fast. It'll be over in no time," he said with false bravado.
His expression turned serious then and he said, "I just . . . You're my daughter. I love you, Sherry, and I have since the minute I laid eyes on your wrinkled, red little face in the hospital. And I hope you'll come to forgive me for what I did to you as well as your mother. I want to continue to be a part of your life."
She had a father. One who had always been there for her, and always would, Sherry realized. Tears blurring her eyes, she started to nod and then whipped her head around at the sound of a door opening. Lucian came into the hall with Mortimer on his heels. Her ten minutes were up.
Turning to her father, she reached through the bars to squeeze his hand, blurted, "You've always been here for me. I love you too," and turned to hurry past Lucian and Mortimer with her head bowed so they wouldn't see her tears.
She didn't slow until she was outside the building, and then she spun to grab Basil by the front of the shirt and asked, "He was lying when he said it would be over in no time, wasn't he?"
Basil grimaced. "I'm afraid so. Even though he was only nineteen, it takes time to heal between each . . . er . . . round of punishment," he finished finally.