by Ciana Stone
“What?”
“I have to go. Talk to you later.”
The line went dead. Sabine stood there for a minute, staring at the phone without really seeing it. She’d known Micky was back in Texas and that he was broke. Sabine had kept tabs on him since he left Texas. She knew he was a drunk who had lost everything he owned except for the clothes on his back.
She had no doubt that he was looking for a handout. Or a payout. From what Ravyn had said, he was angling for both. Get money for telling Harris Garen a tale that would whet his appetite for revenge, and then play on Logan’s sympathy. Or guilt.
Damn. This could have wide-ranging effects.
Sabine jumped, her breath catching in her throat at the rapport of a gun, followed almost immediately by the howl of an animal. She ran outside, her gaze moving over the yard. A scream tore from her as she spotted the still form on the ground.
She flew across the yard on bare feet, oblivious to the small rocks and sticks pricking her soles. Sandreen, one of her wolves, was lying on the ground. His breathing was labored, and blood poured from a wound in his side. Sabine hurried to take off her apron and press it against the wound to staunch the bleeding.
Now was a time when she wished she didn’t live alone. She needed more hands, but since she only had two she had to make do. She used one foot to press on the apron while she took off the loose tunic top she wore and started ripping at the seams. When she had it torn in half, she tied the two halves together and carefully worked it under the wolf, then around his body, tying down the blood-soaked apron.
The wolf whimpered but did not struggle against her efforts. Once she had the makeshift bandage in place, she stood, intent upon fetching the large garden cart from the shed. She turned and at that very moment, the wolf growled. Sabine whirled back around, and her heart leaped into her throat.
Marcus Bannon stood not ten feet away, holding the old rifle she kept in the barn for shooting rats. Rage scalded its way through her, stripping her of everything but rage. Sabine didn’t give the gun a thought. She flew at Marcus, hissing her rage. “You monster!”
He didn’t move until she was almost upon him and then he backhanded her, sending her stumbling. He pointed the gun at her then abruptly changed aim and shot the wolf again. Its body jerked and then stilled.
Sabine didn’t have to check. She knew it was dead. “You truly are a monster.”
“You’ve got room to talk. You’ve had me locked in that damn pen like an animal for weeks.”
Sabine climbed to her feet and swiped at her mouth. Her hand came away bloody. “I told you I’d let you go if you were honest with me.”
“I don’t owe you anything, lady, and you’re the goddamn monster. Who keeps a man locked in an animal cage that way?”
“Act like an animal and you’ll be treated like one.”
“Well, you fucked up.”
“Oh? How?”
“You didn’t kill me when you had the chance.”
She saw the way his eyes changed and a chill slid over her. She would not give him the satisfaction of knowing she was afraid at what she saw. She spat at his feet. “So what? Now you’ll kill me? Shoot me like you did my wolf?”
“I haven’t decided yet what I’m going to do with you, Kindred.”
The way his voice changed in timbre and tone at the word Kindred, made her flesh crawl. He thought to render her helpless by making her afraid. Well, it was going to take more than that because right now she was more mad than afraid.
“Umbra.” She spoke the word with as much scorn as she could and allowed that scorn to fuel her anger until the rage blossomed red hot. She felt her eyes burn as her gaze locked with his.
His mouth split into a smile. “I’m going to enjoy hurting you, Kindred. I’ll take my time with you, let the pain last as long as you can endure it.”
Those words were what she needed. The rage changed. All heat from it vanished, becoming colder by the moment and bringing clarity to her mind.. Her vision sharpened, as did the rest of her senses. She knew that she could end Marcus Bannon if she so chose. He was newly made, he had yet to learn the full power of the Umbra. Yes, she could destroy him. He’d disappear and never be seen again, and no one would think to question her.
But she could still use him. If the Umbra had decided to make a move on her, there had to be a reason, and she needed to know what it was. They had not made a move on the Kindred here in the South in centuries. Why now?
No, she wouldn’t kill Marcus Bannon. She would use him, but she would have to make him believe that he was in control.
She knelt on both knees and bowed her head. “Please. I beg you. Surely we can come to some arrangement that is mutually beneficial?”
“Define beneficial.”
“Power. You want it over the Watchers and I want to be free of their control. Set me free and I’ll show you how to destroy them.”
Sabine looked up to see a lascivious smile on his face. She wasn’t foolish enough to believe that he wasn’t dangerous or couldn’t hurt her, but she knew then that she stood a better than average chance of finding out what the Umbra wanted and once she knew that the Kindred could formulate a plan to thwart them.
Chapter Seven
Logan drew his horse to a stop. Ranger snorted, shook his head and pawed at the ground with his right front hoof, a sure sign of agitation.
“It’s okay buddy.” Logan rubbed Ranger’s neck, sharing the unsettled feeling. As crazy as it would sound if he said it aloud, there was an energy here that had sprung to life that night, thirty years ago. Echoes of it remained and it was enough to make his skin crawl.
Logan looked around. There was nothing to attest to the death that happened here aside from the energy. It looked like any other patch of forest. But it wasn’t. Not by a long shot. What had happened here would likely leave an energy imprint for a very long time. That much fear, pain and death could not be washed away easily.
Against his will, the memory surfaced, transporting him back in time to that day.
They stepped from the cover of the trees into the clearing, and for a moment, Logan’s brain couldn’t reconcile reality with what he beheld. When the truth of it sank in, he did something he never imagined he would do.
He screamed.
There were body parts scattered over the clearing, blood standing in puddles. It was like something from a nightmare or from one of those horror movies some of the older kids liked so much. Arms that looked to have been ripped loose from bodies, a leg draped over a tree limb, and half of a body face down on a fallen tree. Josh’s head was on an old stump, lying on one side, his mouth and eyes open wide with a look of terror frozen on his face.
Logan turned away from the sight, fighting to keep from screaming again or throwing up. He felt Allison’s hand on his arm and cast a look at her. Instantly, his body was in motion, backing away from her. This couldn’t be real.
Her face was distorting, elongating and pushing forward like that of a dog or bear, her mouth full of sharp pointed teeth. She laughed, or at least he thought that was the sound. It was hard to tell. She advanced on him, snapping her teeth.
Suddenly Sabine was there, stepping in front of him. He wanted to tell her to run, but the truth was, he was too scared. She, however, didn’t seem scared at all. She stood with her feet in a wide stance, and her shoulders squared. “Back off, Umbra. You can’t have him.”
The thing that was Allison opened its mouth and roared at Sabine, then lowered its head, snapping those razor sharp teeth as it charged.
“Fine,” Sabine said. “You had your chance.”
Logan shook off the memory and shivered. He didn’t want to remember what happened next. Over the years, he’d learned how to force it from his mind, protecting himself from having to face it. He turned his horse and headed home, feeling the oppressive dark energy dissipate the farther he rode from the place.
His thoughts turned to what had happened after he and Sabine had returned home that night all those
years ago.
His mother had taken one look at Sabine, ordered her to the tub and then sat Logan at the kitchen table where she and his father took seats. “Tell me,” she ordered.
Logan never considered lying. Honesty and its importance had been drilled into him since birth. It took every bit of will he possessed to sit there and tell what he’d seen and heard without crying. When he finished, his parents looked at one another, and then his mother looked at him. “Speak of this to no one, son, save your father and I. Do you understand?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He couldn’t imagine even wanting to talk about it.
Ironically, there had come a time when he had wanted to talk about it, but only with Sabine and by then she had been long gone. He wondered why neither of them had brought it up when they’d seen one another ten years ago?
The sight of pasture fence turned his thoughts to the only other survivor of that terrible night who remembered what happened. Micky Andrews. Micky not only saw what had happened when Allison brought Logan back to the clearing but what had happened to the others while Logan was with Sabine. He’d seen Josh, Fuller, Matt and Michael all die and die horribly. Micky knew that Gil and Rusty didn’t remember, which left only him, Logan and Sabine as witnesses to the event.
It was no wonder Micky had ended up such a mess. Logan had had his parents who helped him come to terms with the events of that night. Micky had an alcoholic father who didn’t seem to realize Micky was around and a mother who’d run off when Micky was ten. Logan’s parents had given Micky’s dad a job on Logan’s grandmother’s estate, so Logan hadn’t had any further contact with Micky.
Logan wondered who Micky had talked to about what happened. Moreover, even if he had talked, would anyone have believed a word of the tale?
Logan drew his horse to a stop at the corral. A stable boy hurried up to take Ranger’s reins.
“Thanks, Bobby,” Logan said and gave the man a smile. Bobby was in his early twenties and had spent most of his life on the ranch. His father was one of the ranch hands. Bobby and his family lived in a small house on the ranch the Legacy family made available to them.
Just then, Micky walked, or more correctly, staggered from the stable. “Well if it ain’t the big man,” Mickey said loudly.
Logan gave Bobby another smile. “It’s okay. Take care of Ranger.”
“Yes, sir.” Bobby led Ranger toward the door of the stable.
Logan walked to meet Micky and took his arm, turning him in the direction of the bunkhouse. “It’s a little early to be hitting the bottle, buddy.”
Micky jerked his arm free of Logan’s grip. “Get your fucking hand off me and I’ll decide when it’s fucking time to have a drink.”
“Look, Micky, I’m trying to help you here but—”
“Oh yeah, Mr. Big Man trying to help.” Micky spat on the ground. “A shitty single bed in a goddamn bunkhouse and shoveling shit all day. But that’s okay for someone like me, right Logan? I mean it’s not like I’m a Legacy. No silver spoon in my mouth—”
He stopped suddenly and stumbled but righted himself and squared off at Logan. “But wouldn’t folks be surprised to hear what I know? Yeah, I could tell people a thing or two about you and that little girl, Sabine and what happened that day.”
He leaned closer and Logan grimaced at the smell of sour breath and whiskey. Micky smirked at him. “You forget? I seen what happened that day. I seen it all.”
It was that moment that made Logan realize his mother was right. Something had to be done about Micky. But what? “Micky, you’re drunk. Go sleep it off and—”
“Don’t treat me like I’m a fool,” Micky yelled at him. “You fucking owe me, Logan. I seen it all and—” He brushed tears that spilled from his eyes and cleared his throat. “I seen it, Logan. All of it. You owe me.”
Call it one of the perks of his heritage, but at that moment, Logan saw it as well. He saw in Micky’s face and heard in his voice. What he’d seen that day had left him broken, and there was no one left to help mend him but Logan.
“You’re right.”
Micky blinked in surprise. “I—you—what?”
“I do owe you and I’m going to make it right, but it will take me a couple of days to get the money and to get you set up in a place of your own, so just be patient with me, okay?”
“Well, yeah.” Micky teared up again. “I mean, fuck, yeah—thanks, Logan. I ’preciate this.”
Logan gave him a pat on the shoulder. “It’s the least I can do. Now, go get some rest, and I’ll get to work on things.”
“Yeah sure, buddy, sure. Thanks, Logan.”
“You bet.” Logan turned and walked away, headed in the direction of the main house. He pulled out his phone as he walked and placed a call to his father.
“Logan, this is a surprise. How are you, son?” his father answered.
“I’m fine, Dad. How ’bout you?”
“Right as rain.”
“Glad to hear it. I need your blessing on something.”
“What might that be?”
Logan quickly told his father about Micky. “I think we owe it to him, Dad. He’s got no one else and that night turned his life to shit.”
“Maybe so, but he’s still a drunk, son, and chances are he’ll just blow through whatever you give him and come back for more, and you’ll be stuck in an unending cycle until he either drinks himself to death or you quit paying and he ends up dead in a ditch.”
“I considered that, which is why I’m going to need to call on Mom’s family for help.”
“What kind of help?’
“An arrangement.”
“You know that’s a sore subject for me since your sister—”
“It’s not the same, Dad. Ravyn loves Wayne and he’s not a bad man. You know he’s not like his father. I’m just asking for someone to watch over Micky.”
“That’s a big ask, son.”
“It’s no greater than what he’s born all these years. He was there that day because of me, Dad. I owe him. If you and Mom can’t see fit to approve this plan, then I’ll handle it on my own.”
“You’ve got my approval. As for your mother, you’ll have to take that up with her.”
“Thanks. I’ll call her and—”
“No need, she’s here with me. I have you on speaker phone.”
“Logan, do you think he’ll talk and tell his story?” his mother asked.
“I don’t know. Maybe. He’s desperate.”
“And desperation makes men act foolishly,” she replied and then paused for a moment. “I’m with your father. The family must be protected at all cost. Take the funds from the trust, set up a monthly draw of whatever is needed. I’ll let your brother and sister know we approved it. I’ll arrange for a place and a companion and will have someone come for Micky in two days. Have him ready.”
“I will. Thanks, Mom.”
“You’re welcome. Is there anything else?”
“Yes. You never told me where Sabine is.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Do you know?”
“I do.”
“Then tell me.”
“No.”
“Why?”
There was a brief pause and then he heard his mother blow out a breath. “Because she doesn’t want you to know, Logan, and it’s her choice. If and when she wishes to see you, she will let you know.”
It wasn’t the answer he wanted, and he didn’t understand why his mother’s loyalty seemed to be more with Sabine than with him, but he knew he’d not change her mind. “Okay, but can you at least give her a message for me?”
“Yes, I will do that. What is the message?”
“Just that I need to talk to her. Ask her to call me.”
“I will.”
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. I must go, Logan. Take care, son. I love you.”
“Love you,” he replied. “Bye, Mom.”
Logan shoved the phone into his pocket and t
ook off his hat to run his free hand through his hair. He didn’t hold out much hope that Sabine would call him, but right now he had other things on his plate that required attention. Besides taking care of Micky, Wes Pursell had called earlier to tell him there had been reports of water contamination in the area of the drill site in the northwest quadrant of the Cotton Creek project.
Logan had called to arrange for a team of experienced investigators to go to Cotton Creek. If there was contamination due to fracking, it was going to cause a lot of problems. Which was why he’d already asked his people to come up with alternatives. Could they get the oil using traditional methods that were less likely to cause environmental issues, and if so, what was the cost? Finally, what would be the cost to buy out the other shareholders and shut down the operation entirely?
Logan wasn’t sure Legacy Ltd. could absorb the loss, but it had to be considered. He was interested in continuing to build the family fortune but not at the cost of destroying the earth. Therefore, he had to look at all possibilities.
He barked a harsh laugh. Funny how all of this had fallen to him, a man whose true desires in life were to be a rancher, have a wife and some kids and try to pretend that he and all his family were just normal folks.
Chapter Eight
Sabine added a generous splash of cream to the mug of coffee and carried it to the table where Marcus sat eating. He grunted an acknowledgment and kept shoveling food into his mouth. She turned away to fix herself a cup of coffee and smiled. The last week she’d worked steadily on her plan to find out what the Umbra’s scheme was. Every day she fed Marcus increasing amounts of a special blend of herbs. The combination helped loosen the mental control the Umbra had on Marcus and make him a bit more malleable to suggestion.
Thanks to the combination of herbs and abilities innate to her family, the last three days she’d not been threatened with physical violence. She was grateful for that. Battling Marcus on the physical and psychic planes at once was exhausting. The Umbra within him was not easily fooled. It didn’t believe she would turn on her own kind. She kept responding that it was right. She would not unless she was given what she wanted.