Betrayed by Blood: The Shelton Family Legacy : 1

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Betrayed by Blood: The Shelton Family Legacy : 1 Page 26

by L. A. McGinnis


  “I’ve thought about you every day, but I could never picture you,” he whispered down to me. “I was never able to imagine your face… until you walked in that day, and I thought you were so familiar. But then… I talked myself out of it. I’d convinced myself you were dead, that I’d never see you again, that it was only my imagination playing tricks on me.”

  A warm finger stroked down my cheek, landed on my lips. I sucked it into my mouth, running my tongue around it. Gabriel’s chest rumbled, a low primal sound that made me clamp my thighs together.

  “I don’t know if I’ve ever been as pissed as when I figured out who you were.”

  Despite his words, he relaxed, his finger still lightly touching my lips. “I’m sorry I hid that from you,” I admitted slowly. “I couldn’t trust you, Gabriel, not right away, not without knowing who you’d become. Not after what my family did to me.” When he didn’t respond, I went even further, “I wanted to… shit, I tried, a hundred times I tried to tell you. But I just couldn’t.”

  “Couldn’t… or wouldn’t?”

  “Both, I guess,” I admitted. “I’d been gone a long time. You have to agree, my story sounds… implausible at best. I didn’t think you’d believe me. I just wanted…”

  Dawson’s fist hit the door like a sledgehammer. “Gabriel, we’re back. I’ve got to talk to you, right now.”

  I giggled and Gabriel rested his chin on my chest, shaking, he was laughing so hard. “Easy on the door, Daws. I’ll be out in a…”

  The door flew open, and I saw her outlined in light, her form neutral black for once. “You,” she hissed, as I blinked against the bright light. “You fucking little traitor.”

  Feeling like someone had thrown ice water on me, I squirmed in my chair, watching Dawson approach, suspicion hanging heavy in the air. Gabriel looked as bemused as me, his arms folded over his chest, his plain black sweater showing off his impressive physique, the one I’d been running my hands over moments ago. He had a blissed-out look on his face, and I realized with a jolt this euphoria wasn’t from me. No, if his huge pupils were any indicator, he was flying high on pain meds. How had I not noticed this before? My heart sank, but I pushed away the doubt.

  He'd kissed me. We’d kissed each other, and it didn’t matter how it started.

  Except right now, I didn’t know where to put my hands or where to look as Daws set a crumpled envelope in front of me, tapping a red fingernail on it for emphasis. It had already been opened, and I half-wondered if she’d coated the contents with anthrax.

  “This was delivered to my house an hour ago. Along with bank statements and… other evidence.”

  “Okay?” I said, completely confused. “What does this have to do with me?”

  “Everything, as it turns out,” Daws said, pulling the contents out and tossing a picture onto the table in front of me. “Does this ring a bell?”

  “What the hell?” Gabriel muttered, and I had to agree with him as we both leaned in closer.

  The photo was of me and Dr. Death, the document in my hand clearly legible. It was an official Vanguard Industries Report, followed by a few lines of geek-speak that I didn’t recognize, my thumb covering the rest of the page.

  The next picture… my mind went blank for a moment as I scanned it… was me beside the doctor in the lab, every bed filled with a struggling Elemental, a visible glow of energy in the air as their magic was stolen away from them. My mind fumbled around helplessly, trying to pin down what was happening. Why it was happening, but I came up empty.

  Daws tossed down another, then another as I stared, each image burned deeply into my brain. The fakes were cleverly done, I couldn’t see any signs of obvious tampering, even though I knew that wasn’t me in those pictures.

  One after another, she added to the growing pile, my stomach turning at the sheer number. So much evidence—too much for plausible deniability—my detective brain argued. But the attention to detail was superb. Photos of me dining with Sophia, one of us from inside the foyer of the prison, along with a bunch of dignitaries. Then a blurry shot of Gabriel’s car parked in front of Fairhaven Manor, my profile clearly visible.

  I snuck a glance at Gabriel, and while he still looked bemused, there was a sharpness to his gaze that hadn’t been there before. The beginnings of doubt.

  Daws smiled wide as she set the final one down carefully in front of me, daring me to protest.

  It was me on the dune with the Cronus Elemental, magic sparking all around us, Sophia’s bodyguards clearly visible just beyond us, positioned so they looked like they were standing guard. It was time stamped a few hours ago.

  Okay, so not all of them were fake, and searching Gabriel’s face, I saw the awful truth.

  He was starting to believe what he saw, was building a case against me in his head. If I didn’t put a stop to it, my guilt would be indefensible. But I had to try.

  “These aren’t me. None of this… I’m being set up, I swear to God.” Those words, delivered with a fair amount of desperation, sounded like every suspect I’d ever interviewed. Lies with a hint of emotional certitude. I tried again. “Gabriel, you know me. I’d never betray you… I’d never sell you out, especially not to… them.” I took another look at photoshopped me and the doctor, my stomach churning. Whoever did this was good, I’d give them that. They knew our inner workings, but most of all, they knew Gabriel’s weaknesses. Knew how important his company was to him.

  Knew why he kept his inner circle small.

  Knew how to drive a wedge between us, with only a few pieces of paper.

  “That’s my car in the photo, Andy,” he countered carefully.

  “Okay, the last picture… two pictures… are real, but I can explain...”

  “That’s not all,” Dawson said, and there was a rapacious sort of glee in her eyes as she unfolded a letter, written on creamy paper. “Do you recognize the handwriting?”

  “It’s Lincoln’s,” I murmured, reaching for it, but instead, Daws pulled it away and handed the note to Gabriel. His face changed as he read it, doubt completely replacing bemusement, his brow furrowing as he reached the end and looked up at me.

  “This can’t be right,” he said, looking between Dawson and me. “It has to be a lie.”

  “That letter is proof she came here to steal from you. Check the accounts for yourself,” Dawson urged him, motioning toward his desk. “It’s the only way to know for sure. But never say I didn’t warn you.”

  He went to his computer, typed something, then gripped the edge of the desk, his narrowed gaze swinging to me. “This can’t… how did you get into my system?” he muttered, pulling up one holo screen, populating it with what looked like Vanguard bank statements. As another holo flew up, I saw a swiss account, my name listed as the account holder. The number at the bottom was staggering.

  “I don’t…” His voice trailed off as he pulled up another account, then a third. “These deposits… they match withdrawals from my corporate accounts.” His fingers danced over the keys before coming to a rest. “And there are files missing, just like Lincoln said… files that are instrumental to my research.”

  His gaze swung from the screens to me, accusation in his eyes. “The only way to access any of my personal files is from this room. The only way to access my banking information… is from this room.”

  “I don’t know what any of this is,” I said, feebly waving my hands at the mounting evidence. “I swear to you, Gabriel, none of this was me.”

  “I told you there was something wrong about the way she showed up,” Dawson countered. “From the get go, this has felt like a setup.” She pulled the letter out from under Gabriel’s elbow and set it down in front of me. I scanned through it quickly, ever word a nail hammered into my heart. It was definitely Lincoln’s handwriting, as he warned them against me. He said I’d turned on him, that I was obsessed with revenge and was planning to use Gabriel and our past to get it. At the end, he claimed he was afraid I’d kill him, if I found out he
knew.

  There was no argument I could make. Not when the frame job was so thorough. Now all I could do was rely on Gabriel. Surely, he knew me enough to know I’d never betray him.

  Henry took the letter from my limp hand. “This makes it sound like you shot my brother,” he said, his tone quietly menacing. “He practically names you as his killer.”

  “There has to be another explanation,” Gabriel murmured, his gaze going back to the financial records. “The Andy I knew would never do something like this.”

  “Think about it, Gabriel,” Dawson urged softly, her eyes never leaving me. “How long have the Sheltons been trying to infiltrate your company? Bring you down? Destroy you?”

  “They’ve been trying to get inside for years. They’ve tried everything… but not you,” he murmured, as if to himself. “I sure didn’t see you coming. It’s perfect, really.” He stood, wobbling slightly as I realized he was both exhausted and drugged up. “You’re the perfect spy. An old friend, down on her luck, who happens to arrive at just the right time.”

  Gone was Gabriel’s slightly mocking, mischievous expression. Gone was any sense of warmth in his face, replaced by the cool, calculating look usually directed at his enemies.

  “What about the guy who kidnapped you?” he asked, not bothering to wait for an answer as he went on. “I suppose that was just another ploy to cement your reputation as a down and out PI. Fuck. I fell for that, too. I never even asked myself… why her? Why now?”

  The air closed in on me, my hands clenching in an effort not to scream in frustration.

  “If any of this is true, then you played me, Andy. You lied to me about everything,” he said bitterly, gesturing to the photo of me in front of Fairhaven Manor. “If you are working for your family…” The distrust in his eyes broke me like glass. “Then I hope this was worth it.”

  “I haven’t…” My voice drifted off as I realized he’d never believe me. Hell, if I was in his shoes, I wouldn’t believe me. This was, honestly, the perfect frame. There was no defense I could give that would explain away the pictures, Lincoln’s warning, the fact that I’d withheld my identity from him for so long. Even if I did have my reasons.

  “Oh, D…”

  “No. Don’t call me that.” His tone grew even colder, but there was a tremor to his voice that had been absent before. He was making up his mind, and it wasn’t in my favor.

  I knew from experience that once you were burned, you were burned.

  I wasn’t talking about me. Of course, Gabriel’s fallback reaction was to push me away. Put enough distance between us, so I couldn’t hurt him. Because when distrust was ingrained so deeply in you, you didn’t have a choice, instinct took over and there was no fighting it.

  “Gabriel, please, just give me five minutes, and I’ll explain everything.”

  “Not right now. I have to… think about this.” But his eyes were locked on that damning financial report, his face set in stone. “Give me some time,” he said, crossing to his desk, turning his chair so his back was to me.

  Gabriel pulled up a private screen on his desk, and when he looked up, I hardly recognized him. “I’ve deleted every bit of evidence connecting us. I moved the money back into my accounts. The stolen files…” His gaze narrowed. “The files contain personal information. If you do have them, you’ll understand my concern. Now I think you should leave.”

  Behind Gabriel, Daws smirked, triumph written on her face, along with something else. A deviousness that told me she was somehow behind this. Henry set the letter down carefully, searching my face.

  “Maybe this isn’t what it looks like,” he cautioned, his gaze narrowing on the pictures before searching my tear-stained face. “Andy’s right, it could be a setup, it isn’t like we haven’t seen this before…”

  He broke off as Dawson interrupted, “This is exactly what it looks like. I knew we shouldn’t have trusted her.” Gabriel didn’t disagree.

  Despair swallowed me whole as I realized I’d just lost the only thing that mattered.

  I reached out and moved the photographs, spreading them out in front of me so I could get a better look. Doubt niggled at the edge of my consciousness. A doubt I didn’t want to acknowledge because the prospect was simply too terrible to admit, even to myself.

  There was only one person who was this good at photo manipulation.

  Someone who’d founded his empire on blackmail and extortion.

  Someone who knew both myself, Gabriel, Henry, and Dawson.

  Lincoln Amherst was alive. He’d given Daws those photos and provided her with all the proof she needed to paint me as a manipulative traitor. He’d driven a wedge between Gabriel and I and was successful because he’d manipulated both of us like a master. He'd been playing the long con all along.

  While I saw it too late…

  Gabriel never saw it at all.

  Now my only question was why.

  Epilogue

  I looked up at the Flatiron one last time before I started Gabriel’s car. I wasn’t stealing it exactly, just hoping I could return it in a few days, along with a rock-solid explanation for why I’d been framed, and who’d done it.

  Gabriel hadn’t spoken to me again, his eyes so full of hurt and confusion it made my heart ache. He didn’t trust me. With him, it had always been simple. You were in. Or you were out. There was no such thing as an in-between. Gray was a color that didn’t exist for him, and never would.

  The only way I’d fix this would be to prove my innocence beyond a shadow of a doubt. To do that, I’d have to find Lincoln. Which might be impossible, given he was a master of disguise with unlimited resources. Since I didn’t have a choice, I’d opted to leave with a bit of dignity. As much as a barefoot, hobbling woman could.

  I shot Dawson a look of my own on the way out, one that clearly told her everything I couldn’t say out loud.

  I know what you did, and I’m coming for you.

  Pulling into traffic, I flipped on the audio, trying to find some good news in the middle of the crowded airwaves. Over the cacophony of talk radio, my phone buzzed with a breaking alert. Opening up the site, my phone bogged down as the article loaded, the interweb obviously overtaxed by today’s shocking revelations.

  I was still in downtown Manhattan when the site popped up, and I quickly scanned the article before pulling over to the side of the road, the undercarriage grinding as I romped the curb, coasting to a stop halfway up the sidewalk.

  Surge Hoax Revealed

  Free Devilton Movement Resorts to Falsified Documents

  Department of Homeland Security Condemns Elemental Lies

  Shit. It looked like everything we’d done, fought for, was being given the slippery spin by the government—or the Shelton PR department. If they managed to bury this story, everything would remain a secret until the Second Surge, and Elementals would die in the process.

  Once again, it looked like the government and the Sheltons had won.

  Disgusted, I tossed the phone over my shoulder into the backseat and pulled back into traffic. Gone was the euphoria I’d experienced at saving the proverbial world, and for a moment, I toyed with the idea that maybe the world couldn’t be saved.

  Maybe it didn’t deserve to be saved.

  But that was just frustration talking, and however much I wanted to steer the car in Gabriel’s direction and share my misery with him, I was very much alone. We’d both made shitty choices, and now I couldn’t expect him to talk to me, much less commiserate with me.

  What I did have was a million dollars in a leather duffel bag in the back of the car, and I wasn’t done with New York. Not by a long shot.

  I had a new plan. A no-holds-barred, take-no-prisoners plan, scorched-earth-of-the-highest-order plan. The Sheltons were going down.

  I didn’t know how far I’d have to go to accomplish it, but I was all in and perfectly willing to leave bodies in my wake to see them either behind bars or under the ground. At the moment, I didn’t care which.
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  I was almost to the bridge when I changed my mind and turned Gabriel’s car in the direction of Dawson’s house in Brooklyn. She told me to stay away from Gabriel, but she never told me to stay away from her and Henry.

  I had questions.

  Why had Lincoln faked his death?

  More importantly, why didn’t he want Gabriel and I together?

  I pulled into her neighbor’s garage, the ones on vacation, and waited for her and Henry to appear as I pieced together my new plan.

  Gabriel and I would play a final game together.

  One that would heal us. Or doom us, and right now, I didn’t know which outcome terrified me more.

  The story continues with

  Devil’s Deceit

  ALSO BY L.A. MCGINNIS:

  The Banished Gods series:

  Queen of Swords

  The Moon

  The Priestess

  Death’s Daughter

  The Lovers

  The Tower

  The World

  The Mage Circle Trilogy:

  Seacursed

  Bloodcursed

  Demoncursed

  Holy City Vampires:

  Shadows of Ghosts

  Unrequited Heart

 

 

 


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