Unforgotten Family (An Ariel Kimber Novel Book 6)

by Mary Martel

  A black SUV with windows tinted so dark I couldn't see inside them pulled up in front of me at the end of the driveway and parked. I picked my duffle bag up off where I'd dropped it on the driveway and pulled the strap over my shoulder.

  I took one last long look over my shoulder at the house behind me. The lights inside were all lit up, but the whole place was deathly quiet. And there was zero movement from inside.

  There were no goodbyes. No hugs. No waves out the window.

  I wanted to breakdown and cry, but I couldn't allow myself to do that. Not now. I put on a brave face and turned back to the SUV.

  The front passenger door opened and a man I'd never seen before stepped out.

  His shaggy blond hair hung down to his shoulders. The bottom half of his face was covered with a five o’clock shadow that was slightly darker than his long hair. His cheekbones were wide, and aviator sunglasses pushed up his nose hid his eyes from me. He was tall, over six foot five, and I'd put his age somewhere in his mid to late twenties. He wore black cargo pants with pockets down the side of the legs and a long-sleeved black thermal. The sleeves were pushed up to his elbows, exposing his wrists that were covered with thin leather bracelets. Most of his fingers were covered in silver rings and he had a tattoo on the back of one of his hands. A black, smiling skull wearing a crown fit for a king.

  I wondered if he had magic inked in there or not. My tattoo did, and any of the ones I got in the future would as well. Otherwise I wouldn't be getting any more.

  "Hey," he said in a deep, growly voice. "You must be Ariel." At my nod, he continued, "I'm Liam. Your ride today. Would you like me to take your bag for you?"

  I shook my head. "I'm good, but thanks for offering... Liam."

  I clutched the strap to my duffle so hard my knuckles turned white. I didn't want anyone else touching my things who wasn't me. I had trust issues when it came to anything involving the Council. Could you really blame me?

  He shrugged his broad shoulders. "Suit yourself."

  He opened the back passenger door and waved his hand for me to get inside. Now or never, I couldn't afford to look back at the house this time. I didn't think I would be strong enough to take that final, necessary step if I did.

  I got in the SUV and slid over into the middle of the seat. I sat my duffle on the seat beside me, but my fingers refused to loosen their grip around the strap. I needed something to hold on to so I didn't fall apart.

  Liam shut my door and hopped back into the front passenger seat. As soon as his door shut, the SUV pulled away from the curb and we were on the move.

  "Hey, sweetheart," came from the driver's seat. "Long time no see."

  My head snapped in the direction of the familiar voice as my eyes narrowed. I racked my brain, trying to put a name to the voice and what I could see of his face.

  His shiny bald head caught my attention first. It was hard to miss. I wasn't one of those girls who thought Mr. Clean was sexy, but there was no denying Raven was an attractive male. His dark goatee hung down his chest and he had a pierced septum with a ball hanging down from the hoop. Both served well to give him an edgy, badass vibe. His eyes were practically black, and from what I remembered about him, incredibly expressive. And he had a sweet, gentle voice very at odds with his appearance.

  "Hello, Raven," I murmured uncomfortably.

  Did I mention he knew far too many of my secrets to ever make me feel comfortable around him? Even one would have been too many for me and he was well over that limit.

  "Are you one of the Council's minions now?" I asked curiously, wanting to know why in the hell he was here, but I was too afraid of the possible answer to come right out and ask it.

  "If I was, wouldn't that make me one of your minions as well?" he immediately shot back.

  "Not yet." Not ever.

  Notice how he hadn't come right out and answered my question?

  Raven had what I'd call old-school ideas when it came to female witches. When they weren't toxic bitches, that is. Those types he didn't seem to give a crap about at all. Read: Annabell the Vile Beast. Raven believed in bubble wrap, and thought that when it came to the female witch work was a disgusting four letter word. Like the use of cunt, he took great offense to work.

  The whole thing was stupid, if you asked me. People needed to be free to do the things they wanted and enjoyed or they'd never find happiness.

  "You're abandoning your coven? And you seemed so attached to them."

  There was no judgment in his voice. Only curiosity. My hackles still rose anyways. It was what everyone would be thinking. My coven would be ridiculed.

  I gritted my teeth. "I'm not abandoning anyone." The absolute truth. Though, only a few knew it or the why behind it.

  "Interesting response," Raven murmured. The man was too smart for his own good. Or maybe he'd just seen a little bit of what my coven was capable of. It seemed to intrigue him.

  Liam turned around in his seat, facing me. He didn't have his seatbelt on. It was then I realized I hadn't remembered to put mine on either. The stress was clearly starting to get to me and mess with my head. Quickly and with jerky movements, I pulled the lap belt around my waist and clicked the buckle in place.

  "Put your seatbelt on," I ordered Liam. After a second of pause, I tacked on, "Please."

  A carefully manicured yet still masculine eyebrow rose, exposing itself above his shades. The color matched his hair.

  Without looking, he reached to the side and grabbed ahold of the belt. He pulled it across his body and clicked the lock in place. I almost relaxed, but stiffened when he pulled the strap that ran across his body out and up over his head. Casually, he flung the belt behind him and turned back around in his seat to face me once more.

  Better than nothing, I supposed. Still not exactly safe though.

  "I'm going to take from what you've said so far that you have no intentions of leaving your coven. Is that right? And does the Council know that? You're supposed to leave your coven behind when you join the Council."

  Liam sure was nosy and asked a lot of questions for someone I just met fifteen minutes ago.

  "There's never been a girl on the team before either," I told him. "I'm changing things up to suit my own needs." I figured since he'd felt comfortable asking me so many questions, I could be nosy right back with him. "Are you a member of Raven's coven?"

  Was he one of the men who'd fallen into the dark web of evil that was the space between Annabell's legs? Would I never escape that bitch? Would she forever be thrust in my face to torment me? No matter how sorry I felt for the woman at times, the urge to punch her in the face never fully went away.

  "I sure am. I've heard quite a bit about you from my fearless leader here." He tilted his head to the side, in Raven's direction. "Our whole coven flew in for this because we're so intrigued. He's never been one to take this much interest in one woman before. Least of all a damaged one. It's interesting that the Council so easily overlooks your physical flaws. I'm surprised they haven't offered to take care of them for you. Hell, you'd think Julian would have been able to help with them."

  Them, he'd said. Not it. I looked down and blinked back the stupid tears threatening to assault me.

  You stupid, stupid girl.

  I'd gotten so comfortable around my family that I never even thought about the scars on my body anymore unless I was looking at myself in the mirror or one of my guys was caressing my scars with love. I'd gotten too comfortable in my own skin, and the clothing I wore now showcased this. The black tank top I wore had an inch and a half of see-through lace along both the top and bottom, and it dipped down into my breasts, exposing a fair amount of cleavage. The thin button up sweater I wore over my tank top was unbuttoned, hanging off my shoulders, and the sleeves were pushed up to my elbows. The tattoo on the inside of my wrist that Rain had given me was visible and on display for all to see.

  Now I wished I'd dressed differently and the tattoo had been the only thing on display. The scars and bu
rn marks along my collarbones were very on display and visible today. And Liam had not only noticed, but had had the balls to point them out to me.

  I struggled with the need to dig through my duffle and pull out the hoodie I'd packed away in there so I could exchange it for the sweater, and then my scars wouldn’t be exposed anymore. Except for my face, of course. There was no hiding that.

  I didn't dig the hoodie out of my bag and I didn't cry. My hands clenched into fists in my lap and my fingernails dug into my palms painfully. I was using pain to center myself all the time now, and falling back into old habits wasn't exactly healthy for me. Not on top of everything else I was dealing with at the moment.

  "Liam," Raven growled, the gentle sweetness I'd only ever heard from him now a long-lost memory. It had been replaced by steel, gravel, and something sinister. "You need to think before you speak, and you should really apologize to Ms. Kimber. She doesn't deserve your veiled insults and to be on the receiving end of your sharp tongue. I've already told you she's different and nothing like Annabell. You should have taken my word for it and made all of our lives easier. Now you've gone and pissed me off."

  Really, he'd pissed us both off, but...

  Ms. Kimber?

  Weirdness overload. He'd only ever called me by my first name before.

  I cleared my throat and shifted uncomfortably in my seat. "Don't call me Ms. Kimber. It's just Ariel. And for the love of all that's holy, don't ever compare me to Annabell the Destroyer again."

  "Annabell the Destroyer," Liam murmured, sounding amused. "That has a nice ring to it."

  So did Annabell the Shameful and fifty thousand other things I could come up with to call her.

  "The woman who raised me as my mother was incredibly abusive, as were the many men that came through the revolving door that was her vagina. I'm not ashamed of my scars, though I don't appreciate having them pointed out so rudely. They are a testament to my strength and they mark me as a survivor. Please don't make references to them again. And, a piece of advice, I wouldn't mention them again in front of the members of my coven. They don't take kindly to people trying to hurt me. Even when it's not the physical kind of harm. That's almost worse."

  The majority of the rest of the ride was thankfully traversed in silence. The unfortunate part was it was done in a strained silence. I shouldn't have cared, but I did. I didn't exactly need friends and I had no clue how to maintain that level of a relationship with someone, but in this instance I didn't think it would be bad to have more people on my side.

  The thing about Raven that hadn't been sitting well with me since the dinner party the Council had forced us to attend, was that Raven hadn't seemed to have any sort of loyalty to the Council whatsoever. He'd watched them fall face first in their food, out cold, and Raven hadn't even batted an eyelash or attempted to help them. That seemed wrong to me on so many different levels. I mean, I hadn't tried to help them either, but that was because I was so far from being a fan it wasn't even funny.

  And, sometimes, some people got what they deserved.

  But why hadn't Raven stepped in? Why hadn't he even seemed upset by what happened? Nothing about Raven made sense to me. Hell, he'd even been drugged himself by Rain and he hadn't thrown that in my face once. If it were me, I'd be so pissed about that.

  When we were about ten minutes out from the motel, Raven decided it was time to break the silence. He'd thus far been solely focused on the road ahead.

  Liam hadn't been subtle in watching me over his shoulder, and for most of the ride I'd had to look out the side window to avoid his searching gaze. It seemed like he was trying to see into my soul and drag out each and every secret I'd buried deep in there.

  "What's really going on here, Ariel? I'm a lot of things, and stupid has never been one of them. I was there, remember, when Adrian first broached the subject of you joining their ranks. It hadn't been a no you gave them, but a hell no, and then they found themselves face down ass up. A position, I might add, that I found myself in not long after."

  I racked my brain, trying to remember if that had been true or not. I winced when I recalled him falling out of the chair he'd been placed in. Okay, so maybe face down and ass up hadn't been a dramatic statement on his part.

  "I have no idea what you're talking about," I lied.

  Liam snorted. "I call bullshit."

  I glared at the back of his head, pissed he was finally facing forward so he missed it. It didn't matter he'd been right in his assumption.

  "You ever wonder why I didn't freak when shit went off the rails that night? Why I kept my mouth shut about it this whole time?"

  Of course I'd thought about it. I'd be stupid not to. Every time I'd brought it up to Quinton and tried to talk about it with him, worried it would backfire and blow up in all our faces, Quinton would tell me not to worry about it and blow the whole thing off like it had never happened. Which had driven me even crazier because it didn't make any sense to me. Quinton was the protector, he didn't sweep potentially dangerous things under the rug and pretend they weren't there. He faced them head-on and destroyed them. It hit me just then that maybe Quinton had been hiding something from me about Raven.

  "I don't like Adrian," Raven casually threw out there, as if he wasn't speaking blasphemy. "In fact, I kind of hate him. My coven deserved so much better after what Annabell did to us. Adrian blamed it on my guys and acted like Annabell was an angel. He had sex with her in front of my coven, as some type of a punishment and a slap in the face for us. It was a whole lot of fucked up, but the worst part was that Annabell seemed to have gotten off the most on it. Quinton did his thing to her not long after that and I got in touch with him. We're not friends, exactly, but we have been exchanging some very interesting information since then. I've learned a great deal about the Council over the years, and my curiosity started long before Annabell the Destroyer came into our lives. You see, there was this girl growing up. My father had suspected she was special. That—"

  "Raven," Liam murmured urgently. "We don't know if we can trust her. I want you to think very carefully before you say anything next. Man, I'm going to advise you to keep your mouth shut. She's an odd one and I don't trust her."

  This fucking guy.

  First, he'd talked crap about my scars and insulted my looks. Now he called me untrustworthy and odd? What a dick.

  I picked my foot up off the floor, drew my heel back, and kicked the back of the passenger seat with as much force as I could muster up. The seat shook and Liam flew forward. The seatbelt caught him and he slammed back into the seat. He turned around and glared at me. I imagined his eyes hidden behind those aviators were filled with frost and loathing.

  Again, what a dick.

  I smirked at him and mocked, "It's a good thing you put on your seatbelt or you might have gotten a face full of the dashboard."

  Liam had hit my shit list, and I didn't see him earning his way off of it any time soon. It was usually a life sentence.

  Raven chuckled as his eyes met mine in the rearview. The look in them didn't match the sound of his quiet laughter. They were boiling with something all too familiar to me. A crazed light that came with a look of hatred and obsession. I bet this man and Quinton would be great friends if they gave it a real shot. Maybe Rain might like him, only if he never looked at me like he wanted to possess me again, like he'd done at the dinner. I smiled a small, secret smile. No, Rain hadn't liked that much at all.

  I cleared my throat and looked away. "What happened to the girl?" I couldn't keep my curiosity at bay. "Did she turn out to be a witch or what?"

  Isobel was the only one I'd met so far who hadn't turned out to be a wicked bitch, but she was definitely on the crazy, non-normal side. Weren't we all a little crazy though? And I certainly wasn't normal either.

  "My father contacted the Council and told them his suspicions about the girl. You see, it wasn't right because she was a good deal younger than me, and even I knew that she belonged with other people who could pr
otect her and had magic. We belong with our own kind, ya know? It wasn't only unsafe for those around her because she wouldn't have had someone to teach her how to control her magic, but it wasn't safe for her either. Instead, she was with a family who seemed relatively normal with no magic to speak of. So, where had the girl come from, right?"

  I had a bad, bad feeling about where this whole thing was going.

  "The Council showed up the very next day with a small army of their soldiers. The entire family was dragged out of their home by force. We watched from inside the safety of our home as her family was dragged out and tossed into the back of a black van. The little girl, whose name I can't even remember as of today, well, she was brought to Adrian who stood beside an SUV as he watched the show. He took her by the hand and had to physically drag her to the backseat of that SUV. He picked her up and tossed her inside. I can't remember her name, but I'll never be able to forget seeing that. Or the fact my mother had to restrain my father to keep him from running out there and fighting for that little girl. To get her back from the people he'd initially called to rescue her."

  My heart sank down into my stomach. I hoped this story ended soon and without me puking my guts up all over the place

  "The Council told my father that they were reapers and the girl had been stolen as a baby, her real family murdered. They told him the family across the street had been raising her in hopes of one day being able to use her magic for their own gain. The Council murdered that family and the little girl was never seen again. They said they put her away somewhere safe where she'd be able to grow into her magic in time without worrying about the threat of more reapers."

  That bad feeling in my gut did not go away. If anything, it grew worse. I knew there was more to come, and with the Council's involvement it wouldn't be ending well. Ugliness came from everything they were a part of, especially when it had to do with females.

  My coven members always talked about how precious female witches were, but then I'd watched even them throw Annabell down to her feet and abuse her. Not that she hadn't done things to deserve it, but still, it never sat well with me.