by Karen Ranney
“I am not haunting you, my dear child. I was warning you. Also, I was merely attempting to rectify some mistakes.”
To my surprise, Douglas glared at my father who in turn, unfolded his arms and frowned right back.
I decided to get to the meat of the matter.
“Why are you warning me?”
I swear, I didn’t expect the tears. I really didn’t. Maybe I was just tired. I missed her so much. I wanted to sit and talk with her about things. Everything that had transpired in the past year, for example. Evidently, there really was such a thing as the Other Side. What could she tell me about it?
“Tor.”
I’d heard that tone before. It was both gently chiding and filled with affection. In other words, hurry up.
“Am I in danger? And why the ottoman?”
Douglas sighed heavily.
“I wasn’t in control of my faculties, Tor. I haven’t mastered being incorporeal yet. Yes, you are in danger but, my child, you’ve been in danger since the day I died.”
I had no idea what that meant.
“Ignorance is a blanket. It both smothers you and obscures your vision. You’ve been left in ignorance.”
Once more Douglas frowned at my father. This time, Hamish didn’t look at him but at me.
I was getting better at deciphering my father’s expressions. Right now, he was disturbed by my grandmother’s words.
Douglas startled me by moving away from the fireplace jerkily. Not only could my grandmother move an ottoman, she was moving an ex-Marine. Douglas slammed into the doorframe and then made it into the hallway. I followed and so did everyone else like a parade of ducklings in single file, trailing behind Douglas.
Pepper chose this time to chime in with a series of yippie little barks. I couldn’t blame him. I felt the same way.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Graystone was a vampire safe zone
At the door to the porch, I was surprised to see that dawn had already come and lit the world with a pinkish light.
Douglas didn't hesitate, but stumbled down the steps to the yard. I was a little more graceful, but not by much. He walked about twenty feet, stopped and looked around him as if getting his bearings. He pointed to the left, then to the right, then shook his head.
Slowly, he turned and faced us, once more frowning at my father.
I wasn't quite sure what was going on, but it looked as if there was some disagreement between my grandmother and Hamish. That is, if you could believe that Douglas was channeling Sonny.
Unlike the rest of my brethren, I don't have a problem believing in weird things anymore. Not after the past year.
Douglas turned again, started walking slowly to the right, parallel to the back of the house. Once he came to the corner, he stopped, turned right again, following an invisible path around Graystone. He stopped numerous times, and so did we, still duckling like. I don't know about the others, but I was trying to figure out what was going on.
Finally he stopped, midpoint on the eastern side of Graystone, turned and looked at me.
“My dear Tor, I have complete faith in you. I would not have given you Graystone otherwise."
With that my grandmother disappeared.
A few seconds later Douglas shook his head, then looked at me and the procession of people behind us.
“Whoa,” he said. "I've never taken LSD, but that was a trip.”
I knew that my grandmother was gone. I also had the feeling that she might not come back now that she’d done what she came to do. At least I think she had.
Honestly, though? I couldn't see anything that she might have wanted to let me know or to warn me about. To the right the woods were thick, but there was still some expanse of lawn between Graystone's walls and the tree line.
I turned to look at Graystone, tipping my head back. Slowly, my eyes traveled from the bell tower all the way down the side of the house.
When I got to the bottom, I froze.
Suddenly I knew. I knew what the warning was about. I knew why my father had been so upset that I'd been given Graystone. I even knew why my house had its name.
There, just above the foundation line, was a gray stone about a yard long and a foot tall. We were right outside the formal dining room, the place where the sniffer had gone nutso.
"What is it, Torrance?" asked my mother.
I turned and forced a smile to my face.
“Nothing," I said. "If anything, it was Sonny playing a joke.”
My mother had always gotten along with Sonny, but now she shook her head, pursed her lips, and turned and walked away with Sandy. I exchanged a quick look with my father. He nodded just once before joining them.
Douglas and Michael walked away, leaving me a moment to study the stone once more. I doubted that anyone would notice the Celtic lettering on the edge of the stone unless they were looking for it. Graystone had been built around the Stone of Scone. I couldn’t help but wonder if my great-grandfather had named the house as a warning or a taunt.
By leaving the house to me, my grandmother had made me the Stone’s guardian.
Well, hell.
I followed my family back around the house, thinking about my discovery. When my father hung back from the others, I matched my steps to his, both of us entering the porch at the same time.
Somewhere along the way I’d lost the Brood. All three of them were in love with my new brothers. Either that or they’d decided to check on Mark and Cassie, more objects of adoration.
I’d be lucky to get them back at all at this point.
“What are you going to do about Austin?” I asked.
I wasn’t entirely certain that I wanted to talk about the Stone right now. I had a feeling that it was going to be a super heavy conversation. All about my responsibilities, etc., etc.
“Your brother has indicated that his loyalty is at question,” he said. Lawyer speak — gobbledy gook — to mask a real answer.
I wasn’t going to fall for it. “What are you going to do about Austin?” I asked once more. I was more than willing to keep asking.
“We have relatives in Scotland,” he said. “Cousins, in a fashion. They’re willing to take him for awhile and let him work with the sheep.”
Austin? A shepherd? “What makes you think he’ll stay there?” I asked.
“He will have no choice. He’ll have no access to the internet or to any activity that is not supervised.”
I had a feeling that the exile to Scotland was tantamount to prison without the walls.
“And Craig?”
His face changed, took on an expression that made me grateful I wasn’t in his bad graces.
“Craig and his associates have been arrested,” he said. “If they are not incarcerated, then other measures will be taken.”
I decided that I would pass on knowing what those measures would be.
I thought back to that night when the vampires had fought with my father and the Council members. Mark, Marcie, and I had been all ready to go to war, but there’d been no need. The vampires had been easily overcome.
Too easily.
Nor had they come close to entering Graystone. They’d kept their distance. Plus, although Niccolo Maddock had clawed the stones of the bell tower, he hadn’t made an honest effort to gain entrance to the house.
“Do the vampires know the Stone is here?” I asked, explaining about that night.
He shook his head. “No, they don’t. Perhaps they felt something, a resistance of sorts, or maybe even a vibration from the Stone. Something that warned them not to enter Graystone.”
“So the house is a vampire free zone.”
Well, that made me feel a little better. I wouldn’t worry at night so much. I could also impart that information to Marcie. She’d be safe here, too.
Wouldn’t that just frost Maddock?
“So, what do I do about the Stone?”
“Ensure that the secret stays a secret,” he said. “The knowledge should never b
e imparted to humans. Graystone is never to be sold or conveyed to anyone outside the family. It’s your heritage and something your grandmother wanted for you.”
“That’s why you weren’t a happy camper, isn’t it? You didn’t want me to have the house.”
“No,” he said, reaching out and clasping my shoulder. “I didn’t want you to have to bear the responsibility. There’s a difference. But you’ve proven yourself to be up to the challenge.”
“And it doesn’t hurt that I’m Pranic,” I said, surprising myself with my courage.
One corner of his mouth turned up. “That, too,” he said.
“You must have freaked out when I rented Graystone to humans.” I glanced at him. “You had bugs here once, didn’t you? To monitor the humans,” I said, certain of it. “You had to safeguard the Stone.”
“It was an interesting time,” he said, taking my arm and walking with me toward the kitchen.
“Tell me where the bugs are,” I said. “All of them.”
He smiled, which I hadn’t been expecting. Nor had I anticipated his quick one armed hug.
“They aren’t here anymore, Torrance.”
“You’re sure?”
“Positive.”
“Don’t even think about putting them back in,” I said.
“I won’t, if you don’t rent out Graystone again.”
I nodded. “And don’t put them on my car.” When he only smiled, I shook my head. “I’d like the words, please.”
“Very well. I promise not to put any trackers on your car, Torrance. Or any bugs here at Graystone.”
I was semi-satisfied, at least for now.
He turned, took my arm, and walked with me toward the kitchen. I knew we weren’t going to talk about the Stone any further right now. Or my status. It was just understood. Hamish had a Pranic daughter. A Pranic Furry had a father with his own share of secrets.
“Does Mark know?” he asked.
“About the Pranic bit?” I asked.
I wondered if I should tell him what Mark was, then decided that the information could wait until later.
“No, about the Stone.”
I shook my head. “No.”
“I give you permission to tell him.”
That was such a big statement that I could only stare at my father. The secret of the Stone of Scone was restricted to the Boyd clan. Normally. He evidently thought that Mark and I had a future together. That would be the only rational reason to tell the secret to the alpha of another clan.
In other words, my father approved of Mark. Well, well.
“We will adopt him into the Celtic Clan, Torrance. He needs a home.”
I frowned at my father. “What do you mean?”
“The Perseus Clan has voted him out as their alpha.”
I would have questioned him further if he hadn’t lobbed a verbal grenade at me in the next moment.
“You can also tell him that we’ve found her,” he said.
“Mark’s ex-wife?” I asked.
He nodded.
“How?”
“One of Craig’s accomplices wished to bargain the information for leniency. Evidently, he had contacts within the vampire community.”
Honestly, I didn’t know what to think about that.
“Where is she?”
“At the Beaumont facility.”
The hospital in Beaumont was a Furry institution, a place where Weres went to be treated for Were health issues, things that weren’t seen in the civilian population. Mange, osteoporosis from using Waxinine too often, and tail issues — when your tail doesn’t retract completely when you come back to your human form and leaves an uncomfortable canker on the tailbone — were treated in Beaumont.
“What’s wrong with her?”
My mother walked toward us.
“We think she’s been turned,” he said.
He didn’t have time to say more before my mother reached us.
“Are you all right, Torrance?” she asked, her eyes softening when she looked at me.
“I am,” I said, grateful for her concern and the fact that I hadn’t lied. I really was all right. Except for one thing — a Furry being a vampire without, of course, being Pranic. That bit of information was going to have to wait until later.
“Everyone’s hungry. Shall I make breakfast?”
Why not? If I didn’t have to cook I was all for it.
I left them and made my way to the Gervin room. I found the Brood there, guarding a sleeping Mark and his daughter. Cassie had laid her head on the mattress, her hand still covering her father’s in her sleep.
“Come on,” I said softly to the Brood. “I have kibble.”
They left the room, their reluctance mitigated by the fact that I mentioned food. It’s not that they were fickle; they had lived on the street and never quite forgot being hungry.
Hunger was elemental, like fear. I didn’t think I’d be able to forget the fear I felt tonight. Or the night Austin decided to change me. Or when Maddock visited.
That kind of fear stays with you. I thought about Marcie and the fear that she lived with day in and day out. That kind of fear may even change you completely.
What a cheery thought that was.
The only alternative was getting ahead of it. Or becoming strong enough to conquer it. I was Pranic and it was about time that I embraced who I was and who I could become.
I began to smile as I made my way to the kitchen.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Are you going to marry my daddy?
A few hours later as I was waving goodbye to everyone, I decided that I needed to get the back approach paved, especially if I was going to be so popular in the future. At least have asphalt or brick installed in the area between the kitchen and the garage.
I’d used the spell about an hour ago because I got tired of hearing everyone’s heartbeat and their breathing, not to mention their private conversations. I could still hear noises behind me, though.
I turned to see Mark standing there, looking battered, bruised, and a little worse for wear. His daughter was standing beside him holding his hand. I wondered, frankly, who was leading whom.
“Hungry?” I asked.
Reaching out, I led Mark to a chair in the kitchen before he could fall down. Cassie scooted another chair over and sat close to him, eyeing me with a baleful glance.
I wanted to tell Mark about his ex-wife, but I didn’t want to do it in front of his daughter. Maybe the old tried and true telepathy thing would work. I decided to try it.
They found Margo.
I told him what Hamish had said, knowing that he would contact my father later to get the rest of the story. How did I know there was more to the story? Experience. I was, despite being Pranic — with all that entailed — still a female Furry. I’m sure my father had withheld some details simply out of habit.
When I was done, Mark got very still and his smile, wan as it was, disappeared entirely. I hoped we’d talk about it later, along with all the ramifications.
I went to the pantry and grabbed the three boxes of cereal I had. I allowed my inner child to come out during breakfast. If it had sugar — or colored marshmallows — it went into my shopping cart.
“Which one?” I asked Cassie.
She pointed to her selection and said, “Thank you.”
I wasn’t at all surprised that she had good manners.
“Meat?” I asked Mark.
“Toast,” he said. “If you don’t mind. Something easy to eat.”
I wanted to find Craig and beat him up. There were just times when you wanted to shuck off the vestiges of civilization and revert to your wolf. This was one of those times.
“You’re a Were," Cassie said, primly folding her hands in her lap.
Mark glanced at her, but I shook my head at him. He didn’t need to interpret for me. Nor did he need to act as a buffer.
She was his daughter and very protective, anyone could see that. I could certainly underst
and how she was feeling, especially since her mother had disappeared.
"I am," I said. "Although I call myself a Furry."
Her smile darted out from behind the stern expression before fading again.
"Do you like being a Were?” I asked.
She looked startled which made me wonder if anyone had ever asked her that question.
"I don't think I do," she said, very solemnly.
This time Mark ignored me and stared at his daughter.
"Why would you say that, Cassie?"
"I felt the same way when I was your age," I interjected. "I didn't really get rebellious until I was about twelve, however. So maybe you’ll change your mind before then. Or just become more fixed in your opinion."
Both of them looked at me now. Had I said something completely verboten? What was wrong with questioning your heritage? Being a Were wasn’t easy. Surely I hadn’t been the only female to ever rail against my destiny? If Cassie was doing that, she was going to get my support.
"It's just very confusing, isn't it?” Cassie said. “We mustn't talk about it with anyone, but isn't it the most important thing in our lives?"
Mark looked startled.
I smiled. "That's a smart daughter you have there, Mark,” I said, going to the refrigerator.
I had a loaf of bread in the freezer. Since I didn’t want any ice crystals to short out the toaster or Graystone’s electrical system, I zapped a few slices in the microwave first.
"Are you going to be my new mother?"
I froze, my back to the table. I was waiting for Mark to come up with something, but he remained silent. Thanks, Mark.
Turning, I folded my arms and stared at him, taking in all the bruises and cuts on his face. His lips weren’t quite as swollen as they had been, but I wouldn’t be kissing him today. I’d also figured out that he was still hurting from the way he’d entered the kitchen and sat down.
In other words, he was a wreck. Okay, I would give him a break.
I measured my words carefully. “I think your father needs care and attention, don’t you?”
Cassie nodded.
"I think this house, being as big as it is, would be a good place to care for him, at least for little while. Do you think so?"