Legacy: The Niteclif Evolutions, Book 1

by Denise Tompkins

  “No, the wish didn’t change everything,” he said, standing and moving toward me.

  I stood there, too overwhelmed with all of the information to move. He came close enough that he reached out and traced my jaw with his fingertip.

  “Your wish made your old reality fade or, more accurately, become transparent, thereby revealing your direct relation to that most famous of detectives. In case the family history can’t be passed on, it’s the way of the Niteclifs. And historically there’s always been a choice to be made.” Bahlin scrubbed his hands over his face. “Your granddad and father both refused their legacy in order to raise their own families. But every third generation must accept by the age of thirty and pick up the mantle of service for a minimum of ten years. Certain skills are inherited to make this easier for each Niteclif. And now that there’s only you, and you’re also the third generation removed from your great-granddad. I’m afraid you’ve no choice in the matter.” An unrecognizable look passed over his face. Sympathy? Compassion? Maybe it was pity. “But, Maddy, there’s always a significant event that sets off the family tree when the verbal story can’t be passed on. You’ve had two events. First, you lost your parents. Then you say you wished upon a star, yes?”

  I nodded.

  “Do you remember which star it was?”

  I arched one eyebrow at him and said, “Oh, sure, let me run out and point it out to you in the night sky. I don’t have a freaking clue which one it was, Bahlin! I think it was in the southern sky, not too bright. That’s all I know.”

  “And which stone circle were you at?” he asked, still standing right in front of me.

  “I thought it was Stonehenge… How many are there?” Panic fed into my voice.

  Bahlin reached out to stroke my face again, and I calmed a little bit. He drew his eyebrows together and stroked me again. “Dozens.”

  “Can I undo this if I get back to that stone circle?” I pulled away from his touch, desperation painting my voice. Maybe I didn’t want to change my reality so much after all. I hadn’t fit into my old life once my parents died; how was I going to fit into a new life here? Then I slowed down and thought about it. My parents were gone. No matter where I was, I was going to have to carve out a new spot for myself. There was no getting around that. Suddenly something Bahlin said earlier flashed through my mind, supernatural.

  Bahlin, still stuck on my last question and not privy to the discursiveness of my mind, answered me. “I don’t know that it can be undone without serving the ten years, Maddy. Maddy?” He had picked up on a change in my facial features, probably noticing they’d gone slack with confusion.

  “Supernatural?” I asked.

  “What? What are you talking about?” He looked confused, running both hands through his hair and pushing it off his face. And then understanding dawned on him. He turned and walked back to the desk, seeming to gather himself with every step. He sat in the chair, shifting it slightly so it faced me. “Let’s work out the family tree issue first, yes?”

  “Let’s pretend I can make the stretch and believe that my great-granddad, Aloysius, is who you’re claiming he was. Now go back to the supernatural statement. Explain it to me, please.” My knees had begun to shake and the reality of one of the dream men showing up in person really hit me. I sat abruptly, jarring my spine as I hit the floor. Delayed reaction sucks.

  Bahlin jumped up in a flash of movement, intent on coming to me, but I held up my hand again. He sank back to his seat with a small sigh and leaned forward, forearms on his knees, face tilted slightly to the side. “Do you believe in anything supernatural?”

  I folded my knees to my chest and wrapped my arms around them tightly in an effort to keep myself from falling apart. I gave a rigid shrug.

  “I’m serious, Maddy. Okay, do you believe in mythology?”

  “I don’t know,” I said through clenched teeth. “I’m not sure which mythology you’re referring to.”

  “Much of it in general.” He had begun to look uncomfortable, his eyes finding anything to look at but me, and it was making me nervous. “For now, though, we’ll focus on the Isles.”

  “The Isles?”

  “The Emerald Isles—England, Scotland, Ireland, Wales. Because that’s where you were pulled to, isn’t it?” he asked as if he already knew the answer.

  “I felt a need to be here, but I don’t think it was supernatural. I think it was simply a need to get out of my old life.” My death grip on my knees had rendered my hands numb, but I didn’t let go. “But there were the dreams, the nightmares.”

  Bahlin’s eyes flashed again, an otherworldly look passing through them that gave me pause.

  “Nightmares?”

  I shrugged and he let me have my privacy.

  “Maddy, dreams or no dreams, you could have gone anywhere in the world but you chose to come here.” He stared at me, and I shrugged stiffly again.

  “So?” I asked a little belligerently.

  “Back to the point. You must realize that much mythology is actually based in

  fact—”

  “Right,” I said, my voice quavering but the sarcasm still crystal clear.

  “Do you think I’d lie to you?” He looked incredulous.

  “I don’t know you,” I said through gritted teeth, and I pushed myself to standing, using the wall for support. I was thrown by all the what ifs in my life. What if I’d never come here? What if my reality had been changed with a wish? What if I was related to one of the greatest sleuths of all time? What if there was truth behind a lot of fictional tales? What if—

  Bahlin interrupted my mental wanderings again. He was really good at the interrupting thing. “Maddy, I want you to sit on the bed. I’m going to prove a point.”

  “Uh, no. I don’t think I’ll get any closer to the bed, but thanks for the offer.”

  He rolled his eyes and stood.

  “Don’t take a step closer to me,” I ordered, pushing away from the wall and fisting my hands at my sides and doing my best to ignore my watery knees.

  “I won’t have to touch you in order to prove my point,” he said. His eyes flashed, pupils becoming elongated and the irises turning an icy blue nearly devoid of color.

  There was a buzzing in my brain. What the—? I didn’t manage to finish the thought.

  The bones in his face seemed to shift and elongate, his head getting larger and his shoulders widening, his fingers curling into claws. Muscles moved in ways that no human body would allow. He grinned a huge grin, showing me sharp white teeth.

  “Take a good look, Maddy,” he said in a voice approaching a difficult-to-understand growl.

  And I did, too…right before I passed out. Again. Crap.

  Chapter Three

  “I told you to sit on the bed,” Bahlin muttered. My eyelids were fluttering, trying to grab hold of a good opportunity to open. “Bloody woman, crashing to floor with every shock. You’ll never survive this…”

  “Yes, I will,” I whispered in an obstinate voice. “Don’t tell me what I can and can’t manage. You don’t know me.” I focused on his face, seeing the dark blue of his eyes once again.

  He grinned down at me. It was then that I realized I was lying in his arms and across his lap. I started to make efforts to get up, but he held me down easily.

  “Rest a moment, Maddy.”

  His skin was firm and hot, but not scaly like I would have expected following that little conversational sideshow. He was tanned, though, in a country where the sun only showed its face every fourth day. His eyes shown with a faint inner light that made me a little dizzy, and I wondered what he was trying to do.

  “No mind games,” I said, my voice sounding disturbingly far away.

  “So you know a bit about dragons,” he said, smiling. “Remind me to send Laurell K. Hamilton a thank-you note. Look, you’ve had a great many shocks in twenty-four hours, sweetheart. I can ease some of the stress if you’ll only relax and let me in your mind.” He stroked my forehead with two
fingertips and my headache was almost instantly gone. Now that was a handy trick.

  “Laurell K. doesn’t write about dragons.” I held up a hand weakly. “Question?”

  He inclined his head, still grinning albeit less toothy than before my recent lights out episode.

  “How can you be a dragon and a regular man?”

  “Don’t ever mistake me for a regular man,” he said seriously. “I am a dragon first and always, but all dragons have an alternate human form.”

  “If you say so. What do you mean I need to relax my mind?” My breathing was still shallow, so I made a concerted effort to slow down and take deeper breaths. He hadn’t hurt me yet. I was having such a hard time holding on to the thread of conversation, like more than one thought was too much to process. Maybe he was right and I was in shock. If so, at least it didn’t hurt. And really, shock was about the only explanation for the fact that I hadn’t become either wholly catatonic or completely hysterical at this point.

  “You need to put down your natural barriers to my kind. It’s a predetermined defense for Niteclifs, as it helps to keep a wide variety of supes from toying with your mind. But you can control it or you should be able to with some practice.” He palmed the back of my head and turned it so I looked up into his face. “Right now, though, you’re locked tight as a bank vault. It’s how you’ve spanked me regarding telling you first to open the door and later to stop fighting. It’s impressive in one so young into the Change.” He grinned, gently squeezing my head. It felt good.

  “Why does the Change sound so ominous?” I have to admit I enjoyed the eased headache. Maybe he would be handy to keep around for a while. He was better than ibuprofen. And think, if I locked my keys in my car, he could automatically unlock it for me. No need for Triple A. I giggled. A dragon public service.

  “Maddy?” Bahlin looked down at me. “I don’t believe you’re going to have any choice but to let me help with the shock.”

  I guess my mental shields, or whatever it was keeping Bahlin out, were weakened by the night’s revelations because he suddenly rolled over my mind like a wave coming into shore, crashing down and spreading through the sand. I had flashes of memories, both his and mine, and it was his memory of my great-grandfather that surprised me the most. I tried to hold on to it, but it was like trying to hold water in your hands—it slips away, and you’re left with a memory. From him I got the impression of great affection and then it was gone. His darker memories, things that had nothing to do with me, moved away from my consciousness like mist and I couldn’t hold on to them either. I had a vague impression of Bahlin meditating and coming into my dreams, and an image of my own where I was standing at the stones. It was all so strange.

  I came to, if that’s what you could call it, with Bahlin holding me close to his chest, his head bent over mine, foreheads touching. It was as intimate as a kiss, this sharing of memories.

  “So.” I cleared my throat to get his attention.

  He lifted his head slowly and opened eyes that glowed a rich, icy blue. His breathing changed as if he were drawing in great lungs full of my scent.

  I briefly wondered what he had seen in my pathetic life that had wound him up so badly. “So…can you please let me go?”

  He stared at me for a moment and then seemed to shake from head to toe, like a dog exiting a body of water, bringing himself back into the moment. He stood effortlessly with me still in his arms and set me on the bed. His strength was amazing, and the fact that he made me feel petite was a total bonus. Not that I noticed too much.

  “I apologize,” he said.

  “The trip through our minds thing, is that something you normally do for people…supes…whatever?” I asked.

  “Ah, no, no it’s not. It takes a lot out of me to sift through someone’s mind and—”

  “What do you mean by that? What did you see?” I demanded, hands involuntarily parking on my hips. I know it looked silly since I was sitting, but I couldn’t figure out how else to express my indignance at his statement and if I stood it would put me too close to him.

  “About the interrupting? It really is annoying. I’ll quit if you do.” He seemed a little bit unstable as he stood in front of me. He turned and stepped around the end of the bed, walking to the desk chair and eased himself, carefully, back down. “My stones are probably black and blue, you know. You pack a mighty punch.” He grinned.

  “Stop changing the subject, Bahlin. What did you see in my mind?”

  He sighed, but he met my eyes with his own. “Grief. Your grief over the loss of your parents is profound. It’s been a very long time since I’ve experienced such a raw emotion.”

  I stared at him, uncertain what to say. My grief was such a private thing that I felt like I’d been violated. At the same time, I wasn’t sure how he could have taken a skip through my mental daisies without stepping in it at every stride. I knew my grief seemed to permeate every aspect of my life, so it only made sense that my thoughts weren’t immune.

  “I apologize if you feel I was out of line. I had no way of avoiding it.” Sincerity poured off him, and I believed him but it still stung. Besides, I couldn’t argue as I’d just thought the same thing.

  “No problem,” I said softly. “Just do me a favor and don’t make a big deal out of it, please.”

  “Done.” He shifted in his chair, trying to get comfortable. I must have really done some direct damage to make him so uncomfortable.

  “I, ah, apologize for…well, smacking you in the…” I stumbled across the apology, and he smiled, showing a mouthful of sharp teeth. Or maybe that was my imagination.

  “In the…?” he prompted, making me blush. “So that part was true, then.” He seemed thrilled.

  “What part?” I asked, hoping we had skipped over the apology. No such luck.

  “Apologies first, sweetheart. You’re sorry for smacking me in the what, Maddy?” he prompted, undeterred. He seemed to be getting his kicks out of this.

  “The burgeoning manliness that your nether regions represent,” I said, affecting a strong southern accent.

  He laughed out loud, a full, rich sound that made me shiver. “I thought you said you didn’t read romance novels.”

  “I had one forgettable adventure with that type of novel, and it was so generally bad that I had to put it down. Now I stick to the darker stuff. Or I did…” I fumbled the end of the speech, lost, and Bahlin looked almost sad at that little revelation.

  I thought about what he’d told me so far and I wondered, What would my life be like now? Who would I be now that I had all this information? I fervently hoped bad romance novels wouldn’t figure in anywhere. At the same time, I had read some Holmes novels and I was worried at the potential for violence and death as more than fiction. I didn’t truly know what I wanted in that moment, so I tucked it away to examine later, in private.

  “Now,” I said, getting back to the conversation, “what part of what you saw are you glad is true and why did it make you so happy?” I’m nothing if not indefatigable.

  “Did you expect me to follow that?” he asked incredulously.

  “Come on, it’s not that bad. Now give.”

  “It should be noted that it disturbs me that I understand you,” he muttered. “Fine. The part of your mind that told me you’re inexperienced with men, though not quite a virgin.”

  I blushed so hard I felt light-headed, and he laughed.

  “Charming,” he said softly, looking at me with hooded eyes.

  “Get that idea right out of your head, Bahlin. I’ve had a couple of wholly forgettable experiences that…wait. Why in the world am I telling you this?” I threw my hands in the air and dropped them on top of my head, eyes closed as I regrouped. “Forget it. I want to talk about my great-granddad and this curse.”

  He sat up straight in his chair. “It’s not a curse, Maddy.” If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was indignant. “It’s an honor as well as an obligation.”

  My mind pinged all
over the place. I couldn’t seem to stick to any one topic, mentally or out loud, for any length of time. I was suddenly back to the statement he’d made about the obligation being a ten-year minimum commitment. How was I going to be able to keep up with my Visa payment if I couldn’t get a job outside of this detective work? I had my inheritance, but that was my nest egg and it wouldn’t last forever or, realistically, even ten years. And how was I going to be a detective, by default a fact-finder, when half the time I couldn’t find my own car keys? A little voice in my head reminded me about my earlier use of modus ponens and the impressive fact that I had had any idea what that was. Twenty-four hours ago I probably wouldn’t have been able to give you the definition much less put it into general practice. But now? It was something I’d have to live by if I wanted to make this work. And did I? Want to make this work, that is? I didn’t know. I didn’t even know if there was a choice to be made. But after my little mind swap with Bahlin, I somehow believed him.

  “What skills did I inherit?” I asked.

  “Pardon?” he said, all polite innocence now.

  “You said earlier, before I hit the floor, that there were certain skills a Niteclif would inherit to make the job easier. What are they?”

  “So you’ll do it?” His eyes shone more than they should in the lamplight, that inner light sparkling like sunlight behind stained glass.

  “Doesn’t sound like I have a choice, does it, if every third generation has to pick up the mantle of service?” I felt slightly resentful that my life was about to be overrun. I also felt slightly giddy about the same thing. I wanted and had asked for something profoundly different, a change, an altered reality. Apparently that wish had been granted in spades. And I couldn’t have excluded this as an option when I made the wish because I’d had no idea something like this was remotely possible.

  “There’s always a choice, Maddy. But if you refuse it, then the family history stops here.”