by Ciana Stone
“Navaho on my grandmother’s side and—uh—I don’t know, regular white people on my dad’s side.”
“Hardly.”
“If you have something to say, spit it out.” Logan had never been one for beating around the bush
“Fine, you’re Numina.”
“That again? It’s a load of shit, Sabine.”
“Scoff if you want, Logan James, but it’s true.”
“Okay fine, then tell me about these Numina.”
“You know, you were a condescending prick when we were kids. I’d hoped you had outgrown that.”
Logan tried not to smile but failed. Sabine was no longer a child, but she still possessed the same fire and shoot-from-the-hip straightforwardness he had always admired. “Sorry. I really want to know what you were told.”
“Well, as I understand it there are many types of Numina or Fae. Like your people. Beings who are Shifters or chAngelings, I’m not sure what they are called, but they are capable of transforming into any form they desire—even that of another human.”
“You mean like the Native American legends about Skinwalkers? Shaman who are powerful and able to take on animal form and rather than using their abilities to help people used them instead for works of evil.”
“Do you believe that? That Skinwalkers are inherently evil?”
“No. I don’t know. What difference does it make?”
“It makes all the difference in the world, Logan James, because you are one.”
Logan didn’t know what to say. Sabine was insane if she believed that. Wrap her in the straight-jacket and put her in a padded cell.
“You’ve been drinking too many of your own potions. I’m not a Skinwalker or shifter.”
“Yes, you are.”
“No, Sabine, I’m not. Don’t you think I’d know if I was?”
She walked over to him, and none too gently grabbed his shirt and yanked it open, popping at least two of the buttons. “Then explain this.” She touched the scar on his chest.
Logan moved away from her. He couldn’t explain it. He’d had the mark as long as he could remember. “You know that’s been there my whole life.”
“Yes, I do. You’re a Shifter, Logan James. Born that way. Just like your father and your uncle and their parents before them.”
Logan hated the way her words made him feel. Anxious and uncomfortable. “You’re crazy as a bedbug. I can’t turn into anything.”
“No, you can’t. Your mother has made sure of that.”
“Pardon?”
“I’m willing to bet that you still take the tincture she made for you as a child. The one for allergies? Remember, you’re supposed to be allergic to hay.”
“Yes, I am. And yes I take it. I’d rather take that than a damn drug.”
“But it is a drug. It suppresses your ability to shift.”
“That’s just more crazy talk. Just stop.”
“I thought you wanted to know why the Council has worked so hard to keep me out of your life.”
“I do, but—but it can’t be that.”
“It can be only that, Logan James. They fear what would happen if we were to mate, to have a child. What would that child be? Would it be Skinwalker or Angel or a blend of the two? What powers would it possess and could it threaten them?”
Logan wanted to argue, but unfortunately, that statement made all too much sense. While the Council of Elders appeared to be benevolent, working for the good of all the Watchers and the Kindred, he’d often wondered if their interests were not more self-serving than they let on.
“So, you’re saying they purposely kept us from being together?”
“Yes.”
“Well, what about that night? New Years? You slept in my arms but left before I woke. Are you saying that wasn’t your choice?”
“It most definitely wasn’t my choice, Logan James. I would have stayed forever, but they came for me. I fought as hard as I could, but they were too many and too strong.” She lowered the shoulders of her blouse and turned to expose her back. He could see the long thin scars crisscrossing her skin.
“These were the worst and left a remembrance. The others healed more nicely but hurt just as much. That was my punishment for being with you, this and what followed. I was whipped until I could no longer remain conscious no matter how many times they threw buckets of cold water on me to revive me. I don’t remember being cut down. I woke in a place I’d never been, found myself a prisoner in a house with bars. I stayed there for five years. They thought I could not escape, which was fine. I needed them to believe I was repentant and would not seek you out again.”
“Who did that to you? Whipped you?”
“It’s not important who did it.”
“It is to me.”
She shook her head. “This is not the time. For now, let’s leave it at this. I survived and made them believe I was repentant.”
“And yet you sent the letter. The Judas wolf.”
“I did. I saw the danger but not the who. Someone is determined to hurt you—you and your father’s family and they want to use what happened that day to do it. I had to warn you.”
“And endanger yourself. Again.”
“If it keeps you safe, it will have been worth it.”
“Sabine.” He didn’t know the right words. He wasn’t all that good with words. He wasn’t sure he believed her—at least about the Skinwalker thing. But one thing he knew. She had never lied to him.
“Love can’t live in a house of lies, Logan James.”
That was all it took to have him crossing the room to her. She came into his arms without question or hesitation, gave her lips to his eagerly. Logan felt time fall away. It was as if the past ten years had not happened; he felt as impassioned now as he had then, wanted her as fiercely.
When she pulled back from the kiss, she smiled at him. “As much as I want you, we cannot.”
“Why?”
“Because it will leave energy behind the Umbra may be able to read. It’s best if they do not know you were here.”
As much as he hated to, he had to agree. They would leave nothing that would provide information on who Sabine was with or where she might have gone. She might have spent her life looking out for him, but now it was time he started protecting her.
Chapter Ten
Wayne heard voices coming from his father’s study. When he entered the room, a man rose from his seat. Harris didn’t bother to get up from his place on the sofa, he just turned and waved to Wayne. “Son, I want you to meet Marcus Bannon. Marcus is the man I’ve been telling you about. The one who brought Micky Andrews to us.”
“Mr. Bannon.” Wayne walked over to the man and extended his hand.
“A pleasure, Mr. Garen.” Marcus smiled and took Wayne’s hand.
Marcus’ grip was firm, but his skin felt unusually warm. Far warmer than his smile. There was something forced and cold about it. Almost as cold as his eyes. Wayne was relieved when Marcus released his hand.
“Take a seat,” Harris ordered. “As you know, Micky Andrews spilled his guts to Marcus about those murders that happened thirty years ago at the Legacy place.”
“Yes, I’m aware,” Wayne replied.
“Well, what you don’t know is that Marcus knows for a fact that Genevieve Legacy and all the Legendre and Beaudreax clans are nothing more than a coven of witches.”
Wayne would have laughed at the idea had his father not had such a serious expression on his face. Surely he didn’t believe that load of bunk? “Witches? Seriously?”
“As a heart attack,” Harris barked. “There’s no telling what kind of unholy things they do. Why, I bet that’s what got Legacy elected to the Senate in the first place.”
“Dad, I’m sure that despite whatever rumors Mr. Bannon may have been told, none of Mrs. Legacy’s family are witches. Not to mention the fact that your source is a known alcoholic, broke and homeless. I imagine he’d say anything to make a buck.”
“Shows
what you know, son.” Harris shoved himself off the couch to cross the room and poured himself a generous drink. “Do you know what happened to those kids that day?”
“An animal attack is what the investigation ruled.”
“More like something from hell. That girl, the foundling. She turned into a demon and ripped those kids to shreds.”
Wayne shook his head and stood. “Sounds like a bad fantasy to me.” He looked at Marcus. “And if that’s what you’re trying to sell, seems to me that my father’s money and trust have been misplaced.”
“I just report what I find.”
“I’m sure. However, no matter what my father’s position is, I’m not buying a word of it so if you’ll excuse me.”
Wayne didn’t wait for a comment from Marcus or his father. He walked out and headed through the house toward the front door. When he stepped outside, he was shocked to find his mother waiting for him.
Janette Garen was still a beautiful woman. She’d retained her slim figure, thanks to cosmetic surgery and being well tended; she looked much younger than her years.
“What are you doing out here, Mom?”
“Waiting for you.” She took Wayne’s hand and led him down the steps and into the yard. He let her guide him to the elaborate flower garden to one side of the house. She cut a look around before she spoke. “You need to be very careful around that Marcus Bannon. He’s a dangerous man.”
“Define dangerous.”
“Ex-special forces, and if you ask me, the man is either on drugs or has something wrong with him. I get a bad feeling every time he shows up.”
“Dad seems to trust him.”
She sighed and looked away. “Your dad will trust anyone who shows up with something they say he can use against John Legacy.”
“Why?” Wayne took her arm to turn her to face him again. “Why does he hate John Legacy so much?”
“I can’t talk about that.”
“Mom, you can, and you need to. I need to know. No, I deserve to know. This affects all of us.” She looked scared and that made him feel bad for her. “Mom, you know I’ll protect you. I wouldn’t ever let anything or anyone hurt you.”
“Oh honey, I know. It’s just—I just haven’t ever spoken to anyone about this and—hell, maybe it’s time.” She took a breath and drew herself up. “It goes way back—before you were born. Harris and John were wildcatting together, barely getting by but determined to strike it rich. Harris had his eye on a piece of land and was trying his best to talk John into buying it with him. But John felt that Harris’ instincts were wrong, and the land was dry, so he said no.”
Wayne wondered what kind of emotions were running through her at the wistful expression that came on her face and the tears that glistened in her eyes. “Harris put everything he had into that scrap of land and miraculously struck oil. I’ve never seen anyone so excited. He rushed to tell John, gloating about how John should have listened to him. John congratulated him and told him to enjoy it. That well would be dry in a month. Harris laughed at him and said he was just jealous.”
“So what happened?” Wayne asked when she fell silent and looked away. “When I was a kid and went with dad to Herber Pursell’s, all us boys followed the men and I overheard them talking. Pursell was trying to convince Dad and Legacy to come in on a deal with him. Dad said he’d never get in business with a Legacy again and Mr. Legacy said he never cheated dad and that Dad walked away with a whole lot more than he started with along with Legacy’s woman.” Wayne noticed the sudden tension in his mother’s posture. “That was you, wasn’t it?” She didn’t answer, nor did she look at him. “Mom, that was you, right?”
She nodded. “John and I had been engaged for a year. I spent a lot of time with him and Harris. Sometimes more with Harris than him. John was so focused, so driven. He barely gave himself time to sleep and sometimes it was like he didn’t even hear me when I talked to him. Not that he was mean or anything, he was just so determined. I ended up talking more to Harris than anyone and over time we grew close.”
“And you left John Legacy for him?”
“I did. After he hit with that first well. John’s prediction that the well would dry up in a month was wrong. Inside of two months, Harris was a rich man. He came to me, told me that he’d been in love with me for a long time. I realized that I was in love with him, too. He was ambitious and determined to make it, but he always made time for me. So I broke it off with John.”
“So why does Dad act like Legacy cheated him?”
“Because that well did run dry. Three months after the strike, John came to him, asking him to go in with him on a new venture. He was dead certain it would be big. Harris didn’t feel like he needed John anymore and said no. But John went ahead and used two hundred dollars that was left in their old company account. He struck oil, and he struck big. Four months later, Harris’ well ran dry, and John was sitting on one of the biggest strikes in history. Harris found out that John had dissolved their old company without his knowledge, but had drilled the well before the company was dissolved. He went after John, claiming he was entitled to half of John’s strike.”
“And?”
“And it ended up in court and Legacy won. Harris has hated him ever since.”
“But why? Dad’s made more money than any of us could spend in several lifetimes. Why hold onto an old grudge like that?”
“Because he feels that John beat him and he can’t stand it.”
“That’s foolish.”
“Maybe, but it’s how he feels, and there’s nothing you or I can do to change it.”
“Well, that still doesn’t explain why he’s willing to believe those—fantasies that Marcus Bannon is feeding him.”
“I’m not so sure they’re fantasies, son.”
Wayne was stunned. “Are you going to stand there and tell me you believe that—that preposterous tale?”
“Let’s just say that John Legacy married into a family with a dark past.”
“Meaning what?”
“Meaning that they appear to have enormous wealth, own vast amounts of property and people who oppose them tend to experience misfortune.”
“Coincidence. And they certainly aren’t demons like Bannon claims that little girl, Sabine, to be.”
“Aren’t they?” She walked a few steps away. “I wonder.”
“What does that mean?”
Wayne watched her inhale deeply and then turn to face him. “Did you ever wonder why we didn’t have more children?”
“No. I guess I never thought about it.”
“Well, we did try. I lost three children after you. Two during the first trimester and one just after he was born.”
“I’m sorry, but what does that have to do with Mrs. Legacy’s family.”
“You know that your father has a mistress.”
It wasn’t a question, and it shocked Wayne that she knew. “Mom, I—”
“I’ve known a long time—almost since the time it started. We were invited to an event. John and his wife, Genevieve were there as were her parents and quite a bit of her parent’s family, the Legendres and the Beaudreauxs. Mrs. Beaudreaux seemed quite taken with Harris, and I noticed her introducing him to her family. A week later I overheard him on the phone, speaking with someone and arranging a meeting. Ashamed as I am to admit it, I was suspicious. Just his tone of voice on the phone told me this wasn’t a business meeting. So I followed him and saw him meet a woman, a beautiful woman. Gwendolyn Beaudreaux. That was the beginning of their affair. It has been going on ever since.”
“And you don’t care?”
She shrugged. “Why should I? I mean, I did at first and I once even confronted him. He promised to end it but he never did. I even went to her, threatened her. I told her she couldn’t have my family—that I intended to have more children and I wouldn’t let her ruin what Harris and I had. She laughed at me and said I would never have more children and that Harris would always belong to her. She said that if I
were smart, I wouldn’t try to come between her and Harris or unfortunate things might happen. A week later I miscarried.”
Wayne waited for her to continue but she did not. “So you’re saying you think she made you miscarry?”
“Yes.”
“Seriously? I mean, how could she have done that?”
“Because she’s a witch.” His mother faced him, and he saw in her eyes that she believed what she said. “They all are, and you must be very careful, Wayne. Let your father wage his war, but don’t turn their attention or their wrath towards you. This one time, take my advice. Save yourself.”
She stiffened, looked around with wild eyes and then gave him a quick hug. “I have to go. I’ll see you later. I love you.”
Wayne watched her hurry off. Today was getting weirder by the moment. He pulled out his phone and called Ravyn. “Are you home?”
“No. Do you need me to be?”
“I do.”
“I’ll be there in half an hour.”
“Thanks. See you then. And Ravyn?”
“Yes, my love?”
“I love you.”
“I love you. See you soon.”
Wayne tucked his phone into his pocket and hurried toward the driveway where he’d left his car. He needed to talk to Ravyn and her cousin Sabine, and this time he didn’t want to be put off. He wanted answers.
Chapter Eleven
“Why are you landing?” Sabine looked at Logan James.
“Don’t worry. We’re safe.”
“Won’t your uncle be expecting you?”
“I didn’t give him a specific time. Just go with it, okay?”
She shrugged and looked at the landscape. There was a small valley nestled in the hills in a clearing. Logan set the helicopter down between the lake shore and a stand of trees. Once the engine shut off and the blades stopped rotating, she felt the peace of the place and smiled.
“It’s beautiful here, but I hope we don’t get run off at gunpoint for trespassing.”
“Not much chance of that. I own this land.”
“You do?”
He nodded and looked out at the land. “It lies adjacent to my uncle’s spread. Six hundred acres. It came up for sale a few years ago, and I bought it thinking maybe one day I’d build a house and move up here but my wi—” He cut his eyes to her. “Sorry.”