Shades of Truth (The Summerlynn Secrets)

by C. L. Stockton

  “Much.” I turned toward the stairs, but was halted by Sabean’s words. “Come sit with me.” I was pulled into a nicely appointed sitting room. Though sparsely furnished, the existing furniture was well made and attractive.

  After shutting the door behind her, she beckoned me closer. “We do not have much time. Do you have the letter?”

  “The letter?”

  “Please, I must know. Your father is very dear to me and your letter may be my only hope.” Her hands grasped my elbows. “Do you have it?”

  The apparent concern in her blue eyes loosened my tongue. “No. Colton took it soon after we left Sal de Mar.”

  “What did it say?”

  “Something about a house.” Until I knew more, I had no intention of telling her anything further.

  “What else?”

  “I do not remember. I barely opened it before Colton grabbed it.”

  Her fingers tightened painfully before she released me. She began to pace, thinking of what I’d said. Or not said.

  A few minutes passed.

  “Right. I have no choice. Michael told me to wait for the one with the pendant.” Suddenly purposeful, she crossed the room to a weary looking bookcase. Her fingers tapped the spines until she found the one she wanted.

  Brown leather and relatively small, the book didn’t look special. She extended it to me. “Do not open this until you return to your room and do not show it to Colton.”

  I accepted it and allowed myself to be hustled straight back to my room. From the tightness of Sabean’s features, I knew the time for questions had passed.

  A moment passed before my eyes adjusted to the darkness. I made my way carefully to the window, hoping to pry up a wooden slab for moonlight so I could examine the book.

  No luck. The nails remained deeply imbedded in the wood. After a few minutes, I gave up. I was probably the most impatient person in the world. Besides, there was a little bit of light now that my eyes had adjusted.

  Retrieving the book from the floor where I’d tossed it before attacking the window, I opened it. It fell open to the back, where a symbol had been etched into the inside of the back cover. My fingers gently traced the raised symbol in the leather. It was a credit to the craziness of my life that I did not utter a sound once I recognized the curved lines of the Tallon symbol.

  My pendant. I raised the chain over my head and compared the two images.

  They didn’t match.

  The two curves in the book were identical but my pendant had a slightly different curvature to the top one. I had no idea what it meant. Perhaps the artist had flinched while carving the rest of the symbol into the back cover.

  I flipped to the front pages of the book. And froze as I read the inscription. To my son, Michael, on the occasion of the vow you have taken. KWS.

  My heart began pounding. My grandfather’s name had been Kevin Winston Summerlynn.

  Could it be?

  No. There were plenty of Michaels in the world.

  But a Michael with a father’s initials of KWS?

  Obviously my father was involved in this entire mess up to his chin.

  Sabean specifically said she must wait for the one with the pendant. I had it, thanks to my father. Now I had my father’s book. Why give it to me? This must be a signal of some kind, only I was too dense to know what to do with it!

  Deciding further investigation had to wait until morning, I slid the book into my pocket. I couldn’t hide it anywhere in the room and I certainly didn’t want Colton to notice it before I determined what it meant for my father’s book to be in this place.

  Yawning, I made my way over to the pile of blankets in the middle of the room and dragged them to the far wall. I would sleep with my back against the wall. Not that that would be any protection if anyone wished me harm.

  Separating three blankets out for Colton and wrapping one around me, I piled the rest on top of me. The room wasn’t overly cold, but I knew the temperature would drop as the night wore on. Besides, the weight of the blankets nearly convinced me I wasn’t alone.

  Company may be short, but I had plenty of questions. What was Colton doing? Had he learned anything? What did Sabean mean by saying my father wasn’t a traitor? What was I missing?

  Stop, I chided myself. Let yourself sleep.

  I did sleep, but only until Colton came stumbling in. The lock turned behind him and my hopes of kicking him out vanished. Actually, I was surprised they kept us together. Company was always nice, especially when locked in a strange room all alone.

  “Cadrian?” My name was a mere breath.

  “Over here.” I sat up. His eyes had not yet adjusted to the darkness but after a moment, he found me. “Please tell me there is room for two beneath those blankets.”

  I took pity on him. He had to be as tired as I, and besides, I craved the warmth of another human body, if only to remind myself I wasn‘t alone. I had a feeling he needed the comfort of my body as much as I needed his. I cocked back the covers for him. He didn’t need a second invitation. Almost before my next breath, he was beside me.

  After a few moments during which he crowded me against the wall and I parried his attempts to hold me, he subsided and blew a breath out against my cheek. I sensed his fatigue but now awake, I had questions that must be answered. “Learn anything interesting?” Such as how to get us out of here and on our way home.

  “Only that much work lies ahead.” He brought his side of the blankets up to his chin. “Prepare yourself, sweetheart, to stay a few days.” He inched closer until his body shadowed mine. His head was propped up by his folded arm, bringing our faces level. Deliberately, he ran a finger down my cheek.

  When he titled his mouth toward mine, I abruptly said, “Tell me what you learned about my father.” Speaking of parents was a sure way to dampen even the most hot-blooded man’s ardor.

  “You will not always be able to hide behind your father.”

  “I will not always have to.” If only he provided more protection. I always felt vulnerable around Colton. I tucked my cheek more closely against my folded arm. “Answer the question.”

  “Your father has left quite a mess. I am only now beginning to understand the breadth of his plotting.” From my cheek, his finger dropped to my ear, following the line of my neck to my shoulder. I fought a shiver.

  “Are you for or against my father?”

  “It depends who you talk to.”

  “And which day it is?”

  His smile was white against the darker black of the room. “Exactly.”

  “What is it today? What side have you taken?” It was difficult to argue when I felt fatigue crawling up my back.

  “I am on whichever side keeps you safe.”

  This wasn’t the first time Colton mentioned keeping me alive. Whatever my father had been working on, it was dangerous enough to harm me. “How does my father’s work affect me?” That was the million mark question. As it stood, people automatically assumed because I was his daughter that I worked for him. That was not quite the impression I wished people to have, especially since it tended to anger them.

  “Do you remember what the letter said?”

  “No.” I’d read it only briefly before Colton snatched it from me.

  “Here.” Colton rolled onto his back in search of a pocket. “Read it again.” He handed me a creased piece of paper.

  “How? It is dark.” Lifting my eyebrows, a wasted gesture in the darkness of the room, I waited for him to explain.

  Taking the letter, his fingers brushing mine during the exchange, he recited from memory, “Please accept the token accompanying this note as a symbol of my highest esteem. Do you know what that token is?”

  Did he know about the pendant? “No.”

  “As there was only money in the purse, it stands to reason the token is something entirely different.”

  “Ye-es.” I felt guilty for not telling him about the pendant but I was curious to see what he’d come up with.


  “That means you, sweetheart, are the token he meant to give away.” Taking my stunned silence for shock, he continued, “Luckily, I have no intention of giving you up. Whatever your father intended, it won’t happen.”

  Oh, no. No no no. So that’s why Colton was so determined to hang onto me. He thought I was a major piece in my father’s plan and that he’d been fooled into delivering me to Lisbon to set the plot in motion.

  This was bad.

  How did I convince him I wasn’t the token without involving the pendant? “Colton, you have it all wrong,” I began, only he cut me off.

  “No. There is nothing you can say that will justify a father’s decision to sacrifice his child for his crazy imaginings.” This topic made him angry. I felt it in the tension emanating from his shoulders, the tautness of his tone.

  “He didn’t sacrifice me,” I attempted but again, Colton decided his words were more important.

  “Only because I found you in time.” His hand gripped my shoulder. “Don’t you understand? That man in Lisbon would have killed you.”

  “Why?”

  Seeming to step back from his anger, he released my shoulder and informed me in a much calmer tone, “Because your father has few friends and numerous enemies.”

  “And you cannot decide which you are.”

  “Your father and I came to an understanding of sorts. He has his beliefs and I respect that. When those beliefs begin endangering others, I will not stand for it.” In the darkness, I sensed his eyes on me but couldn’t see them. “He should know the value of his daughter.”

  So he really was attempting to protect me. Something perilously close to tenderness enveloped me. Time to put a stop to it. “I was never in any danger.”

  His head flopped back onto his arm. “Do you believe anything I say?”

  “No.” I rested the back of my head against the wall.

  “Doubting me is a hanging offense where I come from.”

  “Which is?” Again I felt the swirl of his identity between us. He wasn’t simply a mercenary or adventurer. He was Somebody.

  “Not important.” He yawned. “Have you finished your interrogation? I would like to sleep while there is still night.”

  “Almost. When do we escape?” While Colton seemed perfectly at ease being held captive, I wanted desperately to leave.

  “Escape alone, sweetheart. I have much to do.” Ignoring my noise of protest, he gathered me into his arms. I held my breath as his hand curled around my back, lodging beneath the curve of my hip. Would he feel the book I was lying on? “I’m cold.”

  “You are not.” For all his faults, the man was infernally warm.

  “Humor me.”

  Too tired to argue, I listened as his breathing smoothed before following him into sleep.

  Chapter Nine

  Surprisingly, I woke before Colton the next morning. Judging from the amount of light coming in the window, it was well into the morning. This whole not having a clock was throwing me off. I hadn’t realized how much I relied upon knowing the time until now.

  I debated waking Colton. He’d had less sleep than I and looked so peaceful I decided to leave him be. Not that I was going anywhere. Providing I could extricate myself from the blankets without waking him, there wasn’t much for me to do. I didn’t dare pull the book out in case he woke up. I could go to the window and try to pry the nails out to see what there was to see outside. Or I could count the number of strides it took to cross the room. That sounded like fun.

  Looking down at our entwined bodies, I decided leaving the blankets and him was going to take a bit of work. It was difficult at first to figure out where my legs ended and Colton’s began. They’d twined together during the night while his arms were around me, drawing me into the protective breadth of his shoulders. My own hands gripped his shirtfront and I hastily removed them.

  Gently, I began moving my legs from Colton’s. Both his breathing and heartbeat remained steady. From there, I shrugged out of his arms, catching my breath when one grazed my breasts on its way to the ground between us. Once free of his arms, I slowly sat up. The covers followed me, pulling from Colton’s shoulders. Being careful not to accidentally nudge him, I wiggled myself upward until I was past his head. Then I stood and walked quickly to the window.

  Unsurprisingly, I was unable to pry even a corner of the slats blocking the window free. It shouldn’t surprise me. The way my life had been going, I should be thankful not to be accused of lying yet this morning.

  Tilting my shoulders away from Colton, I drew the pendant out, studying the design etched into the gold. I couldn’t be certain until I compared the two symbols side by side in daylight, but the end of the upper half circle had a funny squiggle on the end not repeated in the book.

  My mind went back to what Sabean said, about my father being a Tallon. Why would he protect the Norths? He mentioned the Norths infrequently, and even then, disparagingly. I attempted to remember why we’d moved, but Father said Goran marks were better investments.

  I wish I knew more about the Tallons. Sabean’s information had been frustratingly brief. I wondered if Colton knew about the Tallons. He knew everything else.

  “What’s this?” Before I could even think of hiding it, Colton’s hand reached over my shoulder to grasp my necklace. He titled it for a better look.

  I batted his hand away, but not before he got a good look at it. “My father gave it to me.” Colton’s eyes followed the movement as I replaced the pendant inside my shirt.

  “I should have realized…” His head suddenly drooped forward, as if it weighed more than it had a moment ago.

  “Realized what?” From his reaction, the necklace meant something to him.

  “How long have you had it?”

  “Since my sixteenth birthday.” At his raised eyebrow, I clarified. “Four years.”

  “Who gave it to you?”

  “My father.”

  “What did he say when he gave it to you?”

  “Nothing. All I remember is being annoyed he did not buy me something new and insisted on passing along an antique.” I had been quite annoyed, the design being too abstract for my taste.

  “You’ve had it this entire time? “

  “Of course.”

  “I am a fool.” With a violent movement, he pushed away from me. He began pacing, short angry strides.

  “So you know what it is.”

  “Yes.” The word was bitten off.

  “Then tell me why you are so angry.” Colton obviously knew much more than Sabean, who hadn’t told me anything beyond it being a Tallon symbol.

  He snorted. “You would be just as angry in my position.” His face hardened into that arrogant, disbelieving mask I abhorred.

  “And what position is that?”

  He ignored my question. “Tell me, was the story about Lisbon entirely made up? A ruse for you to come along?” His tone flattened. If I hadn’t seen the white lines of temper around his mouth, I might believe he was entirely calm.

  “No. I went to Lisbon because I had to.” How had we gone from the pendant to the journey to Lisbon?

  “Had to? How so?”

  I narrowed my eyes, disliking his eagerness in seizing the word had. I folded my arms across my chest. “Be thankful I chose to go with you. I could have made things very difficult for you.”

  Carefully, he examined my features, as if looking for the answer to some deeply felt question. “What else have you been hiding from me?”

  A knock came at the door, thankfully, before I told yet another lie. The lock fell back, and the door swung open to reveal yet another stranger. I think he was at the table last night, but could not be certain.

  “You,” he indicated Colton. “Come.”

  Colton nodded. Without looking at me, he wordlessly walked across the room and out the door, which was closed and locked behind him.

  Excellent. Colton was in a fury and I didn’t know why. Plus, I’d been locked into a room severely short o
n amusements. At least I had the opportunity to examine the book, which thankfully had remained in my pocket over night. My hip surely had a book shaped bruise on top of the rock shaped bruise from yesterday morning.

  Walking back to the window where the most light was, I took the book out of my pocket. The brown leather binding was cracked and worn. The gilt lettering of the title, Goran Through the Years, came off against the finger I ran over it. I tested the weight of the book in my hand, deciding it weighed about what one might expect from a book of middling size.

  I opened it, checking the inscription on the inside flap. Yes, it still said what it did last night. This was my father’s book. But why was it here? What connection did my father share with these people? Were they Tallons?

  I considered that. If my father’s book—marked with the Tallon symbol—was here, it might mean he’d been here. If they were Tallons, that explained it. He must have come for a meeting of sorts and left a book behind? No. That didn’t seem correct.

  Maybe he sent it to them, an earlier version of the letter. But why send a history of Goran? Further, why send his own personal copy of the history of Goran? The one emblazoned with a Tallon seal? What was it about this book, specifically, that my father wished these people to know? Where did Sabean fit in?

  There must be something I was missing. Something gigantic that made sense of all my endless questions. Idly, I picked at a loose thread in the binding at the bottom of the back cover. To my surprise, it easily gave, and a piece of paper dropped to the floor.

  Dumbfounded, I simply stared at the book. Had a piece of paper just dropped out of the back cover and onto the floor? I looked at the floor. Yes. There was a fresh looking piece of paper on the wood planking.

  My next step was to hold the open seam of the book up to my eye and peer inside. The open stitching was directly beneath the Tallon symbol. Coincidence? I didn’t think so. I stuck my finger into the open binding, just to ensure there had been enough space for the carefully folded piece of paper to fit in the binding. I also noticed the thread color was a slightly lighter brown then the thread on the rest of the book.