Unbroken Vows

Home > Romance > Unbroken Vows > Page 3
Unbroken Vows Page 3

by Christine Pope


  “I don’t know,” he said slowly. “It’s just — Rosemary isn’t home, which I suppose wouldn’t be that strange, except I know she wasn’t working today, and she didn’t tell me about any plans to go anywhere. Besides, her car is still parked in the driveway.”

  Lucille craned her head out the doorway, as if by doing so, she could somehow catch a glimpse of the car in question, even though Will’s driveway was on the other side of his house and couldn’t be seen at all from the porch where they stood. “That is odd. Do you think she went for a walk?”

  “That’s the most likely explanation,” he said. “I don’t know why she didn’t leave me a note, though.”

  “Maybe she did, and you just didn’t see it,” Lucille suggested, and he gave a slow nod.

  “I suppose that’s possible. I’ll go back and take a look around.”

  His neighbor offered him an encouraging smile. “I’m sure that’s what happened. But I’ll keep an eye out for her as well.”

  “Thanks, Lucille.” Will did his best to smile in reply, although he knew his expression probably looked a little forced. Still, there wasn’t much else he could do at the moment, and he certainly didn’t want to say anything that might alarm his neighbor. So far, she had absolutely no clue about all the strange doings he and Rosemary had been involved in lately, and he wanted to keep things that way. Dealing with the Greencastle demons was bad enough without dragging his neighbors into the whole mess.

  He gave Lucille a wave as he went back down the steps and headed over to his own house. Before he turned down the front walk, he paused on the sidewalk for a moment, hoping against hope that he’d see Rosemary come around the corner at the end of the street and walk toward him, blissfully unaware of the worry she’d caused.

  But there was still no sign of her, and after a moment, Will made himself go back inside the house. Once again, he scanned his surroundings, thinking that he’d see a note dropped on the floor, maybe sent there by a wayward breeze, since the side windows in the living room were still partway open. However, he didn’t see anything that looked like a note, not even when he got down on his hands and knees and peered behind the couch, although he had to admit that was a very strange place for one to have fallen.

  He got up and brushed at the knees of his trousers, wondering what to do next. If their circumstances had been at all different, he would have told himself to calm down and wait. But since they’d recently fled the home of a powerful half-demon with the stolen footage in their possession, this wasn’t exactly a normal situation. True, there hadn’t been any sign of Daniel Lockwood or any of the other cambions who’d made that small Indiana town their home, but what did that mean? Had they really given Lockwood the slip, or had he and his demon fellows merely been waiting for an opportunity to descend and spirit Rosemary away?

  Stop getting yourself all worked up over what’s probably nothing, he scolded himself, but that inner rebuke rang hollow. After all, it wasn’t as if he’d manufactured their enemies out of thin air. They really did exist…and they probably had revenge on their minds.

  However, Rosemary wasn’t exactly defenseless. The house was warded, and so far there’d been no signs of any marauding demons, or even any attempts by the demons to come around the property at all. Also, her own innate angelic powers had proven that she was more than a match for Daniel Lockwood, even if he somehow had managed to defeat the wards she’d set.

  And there was certainly no sign of a struggle. The house looked basically the same as it had when he’d left that morning. If the demons had come for Rosemary — if they’d somehow managed to overpower her — there would have been some evidence left behind.

  Unless they cleaned up after themselves, he thought glumly. It’s not as though they would have left the equivalent of a big neon sign proclaiming what they’d done.

  That seemed plausible, although if they really had taken her away, Will didn’t know what he could do to help her. He was just an ordinary man, not anyone who possessed otherworldly powers. Against a full-blood demon, his faith and his Bible — and some strategically deployed bottles of holy water — might be enough for him to prevail, but in a way, these part-demon men were a far more frightening adversary. Their human blood allowed them to treat holy water as a nuisance, not the acid equivalent it was for full demons.

  Will’s fingers brushed against the phone in his pocket, and for a moment, he wondered whether he should call Michael and ask for advice. Unfortunately, with his friend five hundred miles away in Tucson, there probably wasn’t a lot he could do to help.

  But maybe another kind of psychic….

  Rosemary’s gifts hadn’t come to her solely from her father. Her mother was also very gifted, and had already proven herself to be the sort of person who wouldn’t hesitate to offer assistance. Although Michael certainly didn’t want to cause Glynis McGuire any alarm, he also couldn’t think of who else to contact. If nothing else, she might have some suggestions for where Rosemary might have gone. While he didn’t like to admit such a thing to himself, it was only the truth that there was still a great deal he didn’t know about the woman he loved. This lack hadn’t bothered him too much, since he’d thought they’d be able to learn about one another as time passed, but at the moment, he could only think that Glynis might be able to fill in a few gaps.

  Her contact information was already in his phone, along with the numbers for Rosemary’s sisters Celeste and Isabel, just as he’d given Rosemary the phone numbers of a few people at the church, in case she ever had trouble getting hold of him for some reason. Will hesitated for a moment more, then pulled the phone out of his pocket and swiped his finger over the entry for Glynis McGuire.

  Her phone rang several times, and he found himself tensing, wondering if she was also going to be unreachable. It was now a little past six — maybe she’d gone out for an early dinner, or had a meeting or something else occupying her time. He vaguely remembered Rosemary saying something about a book club; maybe that was where she’d gone, why she wasn’t picking up her phone.

  But then the fourth ring abruptly ended, and a woman’s voice came through the speaker, sounding uncertain. “Hello?”

  “Glynis?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she replied. “Who’s calling?”

  “It’s Will Gordon.”

  “Oh,” she said, sounding relieved. “I didn’t recognize the number, so I almost didn’t answer. But then something told me I had better pick up.”

  Her psychic gifts at work, telling her this was no ordinary phone call? Maybe; he’d seen Rosemary’s talents in action, and therefore knew it wasn’t wise to ignore a McGuire woman’s little impulses. “I’m glad you did,” he said. “Have you heard anything from Rosemary?”

  “No,” Glynis replied, a note of caution entering her voice. “Why?”

  Briefly, he explained the situation, although he did his best to downplay his concerns, despite the worry that seemed to thrum louder and louder along his nerve endings. It didn’t seem as though he did a very good job of hiding his unease, because when he was done, Glynis sounded more troubled than before.

  “Maybe I should come over,” she said.

  “I’m not sure that’s necessary — ” he began, but she cut in, overriding his protest.

  “I think it might be,” she told him, her tone firm. “If I’m there, I might be able to sense something of what happened to her.”

  “There’s a very good chance that nothing has happened, and I’m blowing this out of proportion.”

  “Well,” Glynis said, “if that turns out to be the case — if Rosemary shows up while I’m over there — then the three of us can all go out to dinner and have a laugh about it. But if not….” The words trailed off into silence, followed by a long pause. When she spoke again, the worry was clear in her voice. “If not, then it’s better I know about it, don’t you think? And I think I probably have a better chance of learning something, unless you have some psychic powers you haven’t told me about
.”

  “No psychic powers,” Will replied, thinking this probably would have been easier if he did. At the very least, he’d have a little more to offer Rosemary than his very modest salary at All Saints and a house not much bigger than her own small two-bedroom home in Glendora. “Unfortunately.”

  “They can be a blessing and a curse,” Glynis said. “Anyway, I’ll be over in about fifteen minutes. With any luck, Rosemary will have shown up by then, and we can forget about all this and go out to eat.”

  “I’ll hope that’s exactly what happens,” he said. “Drive safe.”

  “I will.”

  They ended the call there. This time, Will didn’t put the phone back in his pocket, but instead placed it on the coffee table, thinking he didn’t want to waste the few seconds it would take to fish the thing out if he did get a call from Rosemary.

  As he sat down to wait for Glynis, however, he had a feeling that call would never come.

  Chapter 3

  Daniel Lockwood’s impressive home in Greencastle’s most exclusive neighborhood didn’t look all that different from the last time Rosemary had been there, although of course on this particular evening, it wasn’t crowded with people there to raise money for the town library, and the lavish flower arrangements that had adorned the side tables were gone. Caleb had brought her into the family room at the back of the house, rather than his father’s study. She wasn’t sure why, except that maybe he’d thought she would feel a little more relaxed here.

  It was the sort of room that invited you to relax, with plump couches of unbelievably soft caramel-colored leather, the walls painted a pale slate blue, a fire flickering in the mahogany-framed fireplace. She supposed it must be much colder here in Indiana on this late October evening than it was back in California, although the inside of the house seemed warm enough.

  Even so, she couldn’t quite repress a shiver as Daniel Lockwood entered the room and smiled at her. Maybe it was merely the pale blue of his eyes, so unlike Caleb’s, that made her feel so cold. Some people probably would have said they were striking, and such a contrast to his gray-streaked dark hair, but Rosemary couldn’t help thinking there was something inhuman about them nonetheless.

  “Welcome back,” he said, still smiling. “A drink, perhaps? A martini, or — ”

  “Nothing, thank you,” she replied.

  “It might help,” Caleb put in. He still stood next to her, although he’d moved away slightly once they were back on terra firma, as if he’d realized she didn’t want him any closer to her than was strictly necessary. She’d had to hold on to his arm as they traveled here in the unnerving eye-blink way of both demons and angels, since he’d informed her that the house was warded against intrusion by any demons other than himself and his father, but she certainly didn’t want him to think that she’d enjoyed the contact.

  Help to what, put her off her guard? She might have been crazy in coming here, but she wasn’t so crazy as to accept any drink they might give her. Besides, even if all she was offered was a harmless glass of chardonnay, something untainted by any demonic tricks, she still didn’t think it was a good idea to meet this supposed father of hers while even slightly befuddled by alcohol.

  “No, I’m good,” she said firmly. Lifting her chin, she added, “I’m just here to meet my father.”

  “So, you did tell her,” Daniel said then, gaze traveling toward his son.

  Caleb shrugged. “She wouldn’t have come otherwise.”

  Those icy, pale eyes narrowed for a second, and then Daniel’s shoulders lifted, echoing his son’s gesture. “I suppose I can understand that. I’ll let him know you’re here.”

  Rosemary had expected him to pull a cell phone from his pocket, or maybe walk over to the land line phone she’d spotted on a side table across the room, but all he did was shut his eyes briefly. Reaching out telepathically to contact his fellow demon? She supposed that had to be what Daniel Lockwood was doing, and a little shiver worked its way down her back. Although the cambions’ actions seemed to indicate they had some way of maintaining contact that went far beyond phone calls and texts, the thought that they were all psychically linked creeped her out more than she wanted to admit.

  Caleb must have noticed her unease, because he said in an undertone, “Our generation can’t do that. Only theirs.”

  Well, that was something of a relief. She really didn’t want to contemplate what it would be like to have Caleb — or any of the other quarter-demons in town — be able to invade her thoughts whenever they felt like it. All right, she supposed she should have realized that of course he didn’t have that particular talent, or he would have tapped into her mind long before this, but still.

  “He’ll be here momentarily,” Daniel said. “Why don’t you go ahead and take a seat while you wait?”

  What was it with the Lockwood men wanting her to sit down? Did they think she was some kind of fragile flower or something?

  Then again, she had to be an unknown quantity to them. After all, she was the only part-demon offspring who’d turned out to be female. What that meant, she didn’t know. It was the male who determined the sex of a child, or otherwise, she would have said maybe it had something to do with her mother’s strong psychic gifts.

  Even though she’d spurned Daniel Lockwood’s offer of a seat, Rosemary was starting to wonder whether her stubbornness was doing her any favors. Her legs had started to feel shaky again. However, she’d said she was going to stand, and so she would, damn it.

  Caleb, on the other hand, didn’t seem to have any reservations about going over to the couch and sitting down on the center cushion. He leaned back, a faint smile playing about his lips, as if he looked forward to seeing how she would react to meeting this father of hers.

  He’s not really your father, though, she told herself. A sperm donor, and nothing more.

  If even that. They could all still be playing some kind of a terrible joke on her. Caleb’s little game of pretending to be dead had already proved that they enjoyed messing with her mind. She certainly wouldn’t put it past him — or his father, or any of the other Greencastle demons — to have concocted this whole story to put her off-balance, to get her into their clutches so they could…what? Kill her? Possibly, but something told her the situation wasn’t quite that simple.

  The doorbell rang. “I’ll get it,” Daniel said, and disappeared down the hallway. Because the house was so large, Rosemary guessed it would take a while for him to collect their visitor and bring him back here to the family room.

  She glanced over at Caleb and asked a question that had been tickling the back of her mind. “Where’s your mother? Is she in on this little game of yours?”

  Naturally, he didn’t rise to the bait, but only shrugged and replied, “It’s not a ‘game.’ Anyway, you know that she doesn’t know anything about all of this.” He waved a hand, as if to indicate his father and himself, and the rest of the Greencastle demons. “To answer your question, though, she went to Indianapolis to have a spa day and go shopping. She’ll have dinner afterward, so I doubt she’ll be home before nine.”

  How convenient…and probably the reason why Daniel had asked Caleb to approach her today. Rosemary thought of the glitzy mall she and Will had gone to when shopping for clothes to wear to Daniel Lockwood’s benefit cocktail party just the day before, and guessed that his wife could do some serious damage there with her black Amex Centurion card.

  And yes, she knew she was probably thinking about such trivialities because she didn’t want to pay too much attention to the male voices that even now drifted down the hallway, voices that were getting closer and closer. Caleb straightened and shifted so he was sitting on the edge of the sofa cushion, and Rosemary found herself standing straighter as well, her chin up. Whoever was coming down that hallway, she wanted to make sure she looked confident and unafraid when he entered the room.

  Daniel Lockwood was tall, but the man standing next to him was taller still. He looked as though he wa
s a few years younger, in his late fifties rather than his early sixties. And, just like the other part-demons Rosemary had met, he was very good-looking, with the sort of chiseled, aging movie-star features that would make women even several decades younger stop and take a closer look. His hair was brown, his eyes blue, but the deep blue of a mountain lake, not the icy pale blue of Daniel’s eyes.

  Those eyes met hers, and Rosemary forced herself to stand still, to stare back at him. She’d honestly never thought much about the minor differences in her appearance from that of her two sisters, mostly because all three of them looked so much like their mother. Now, though, as she stared at this half-demon who was supposedly her father, she saw elements in his features that echoed her own — the faint lift to the right eyebrow, the high cheekbones, more sculpted than those of either of her sisters. And she hated to see the resemblance, because it meant she might actually be this man’s child.

  “Rosemary,” he said, and even though she’d never heard his voice before, it still sounded somehow familiar.

  She swallowed. “Who are you?”

  Gaze still fixed on her, he replied, “My name is Gerald Gates.”

  “And you’re a demon?”

  “Half-demon,” he corrected her, although in a gentle tone.

  She crossed her arms, trying to fight off the sudden chill she felt, despite the warmth of the room where she stood. “Why should I believe you’re my father?”

  One corner of his mouth lifted slightly. “I know it’s hard for you to believe. But it is the truth.”

  “We can do a blood test,” Daniel Lockwood put in.

  Rosemary pulled her gaze away from Gerald Gates and stared at Caleb’s father. “That sort of thing works for demons?”

  “Yes,” he said, now looking somewhat amused. “Or rather, for part-demons. The test looks at markers that have nothing to do with our demonic natures.”

  A blood test would prove whether they were telling the truth…or would it? Test results could be faked.

 

‹ Prev