by Arthur, Keri
He hesitated, studying Monty and no doubt seeing the determination there. “I think it’s foolish, but I can’t actually stop either of you. But please, can you both agree to being fully checked out at the hospital?”
“Agreed.” Aside from the fact I wasn’t stupid, the doctors could provide the industrial-strength painkillers I was no doubt going to need once all the aches and bruising fully developed.
He hesitated and then helped me upright, his grip moving from my hand to my elbow as my legs wobbled alarmingly. Once I was steady, he released me, then helped Monty to his feet.
He studied the two of us for a second, and then shook his head. “This way.”
Our pace was slow, and it seemed to take hours to get out of the damn ravine. I was sweating and aching by the time we reached the road and the waiting ambulance officers. Belle had already been taken to the hospital, but the medics assured me it was nothing more than a precautionary measure and that her sprain wasn’t that bad.
Monty and I were bundled into the waiting ambulances and taken to the hospital. It was a good five hours before they’d run all their tests and confirmed what I already knew—aside from cuts and bruising, I was perfectly fine. They loaded me up with painkillers, told me to rest up over the next couple of days, and then shuffled me out the door—where I discovered Aiden waiting for me.
“Hey,” I said, rising up on tiptoe to kiss him. “I thought you were working?”
“I am, but I’m also the boss.” He opened the truck door and ushered me in. “And we need to talk.”
I waited until he’d jumped into the driver side. “If this is about Katie—”
“It’s not so much about Katie, but rather your continuing refusal to fully trust me.”
I frowned. “That’s not true—”
“Isn’t it?” He pulled out of the parking area and then glanced at me. “Then why not simply tell me you were going to see Katie and that you didn’t want me along?”
I wrinkled my nose. “Because I thought you’d insist.”
“I would certainly have asked why, but I wouldn’t have insisted. I’m a werewolf, not an ogre.”
A smile tugged at my lips. “I know, and I guess I do owe you an apology. It’s just that I have a hard time—”
“Trusting anyone other than Belle. I know. But you’ve formed a family of choice here, Liz, and you very much need to believe in and trust all of us.”
Family. It was something I’d long searched for, something that was finally within my reach.
And something Clayton could so very easily destroy.
I blinked back tears and stared out the side window for a couple of seconds. When I was certain my emotions were back under control, I told him everything Katie had said about the wild magic; everything except the whole baby thing. There was no real point in mentioning that, simply because—however much I might hope otherwise—the little girl I saw in my future might not be his.
“She also confirmed that I can’t permanently leave the reservation.”
“Which is a good thing, isn’t it? It means that Clayton can’t swoop in and spell you away.”
“In theory, yes.” Although given both Clayton and my father had hidden their presence from Katie, there was no absolute certainty.
He slowed as the lights ahead went red. “And the stuff about the wild magic protecting you? Is that what happened today?”
“Yes.”
“Which means Clayton can’t actually hurt you.”
“He can hurt me by hurting Belle. Or you. Or any of the others.”
Aiden frowned. “Do you really think he’ll go to those extremes?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know him. I’ve never really known him—he was my father’s friend and a second cousin. I had very little to do with him.”
At least until my father decided the best way to deal with a problem child was to basically sell her off to a friend desperate to have a wife young enough to have lots of children.
“Then you need to talk to someone who did,” Aiden said.
I snorted. “Like who? My goddamn father?”
“Well, no. I was thinking more along the lines of your mother.”
“What? Why?”
The lights went green. He slipped the truck into gear and took off again. “Well, if she’s now left your father because she was told what he and Clayton did, she may well not only welcome the contact, but the chance to make amends.”
“You don’t know my mother.” I couldn’t help the bitterness in my voice. “She and I were never close.”
“Which doesn’t mean she won’t be feeling some regret over the situation.” He glanced at me again. “What have you got to lose? Given you’ve been found by them and you can’t run anymore, you’ve got no real choice but to face up to your past—all of it—and move on.”
“Fine advice coming from a man still haunted by his.” It was out before I could stop it, and I silently cursed. I didn’t need to be stirring that up right now.
“She doesn’t haunt me,” he bit back. “Not anymore.”
I glanced at him. “So if she came back tomorrow—”
“That’s very unlikely to happen.”
It was said with a bitterness that spoke volumes and basically confirmed future heartache. “But if she did?”
“Then I’d deal with it.” He stopped in front of our café. “But it’s not my past causing us problems right now, and I can’t see the harm in reaching out.”
“I’ll think about it.” I undid the seat belt and leaned across to kiss him. “Are you coming around for dinner later?”
He shook his head. “It’s Dillon’s fourteenth birthday, and I said I’d be there for the celebration.”
Which was just another reminder that no matter what happened between us, that part of his life was something I would never share.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”
I grabbed my backpack and carefully climbed out. The various aches protested the movement, and I walked somewhat stiffly into the café. I didn’t look back. Didn’t wave goodbye. The man was too astute and might have seen the brief sheen of self-pitying tears.
“And why might they be happening?” Belle said, as I locked the café door and hobbled toward her. “Or is that a stupid question?”
“The latter. Why are you on your feet—weren’t you told to rest that foot?”
“Yes, and I am, but I needed coffee and there was no one here to make it for me.” She limped over to the table and sat down. “I chatted to Penny, by the way. Everything went smoothly with the café today, and I asked Celia to work for the rest of the week. I figured neither of us will be up to running around too much.”
I nodded. “I’m heading upstairs for a long hot bath. I think we’ll do takeout tonight.”
“Excellent idea. But before you go—are you up to a session with the truth seeker and auditor?”
“Tonight?”
She nodded. “They want the files ready in the event of your father or Clayton changing their minds about the annulment.”
“My father won’t change his mind. Not now that he’s aware I can interact with the wild magic.”
“Yes, but it’s not your father who has to sign off on the annulment, and Clayton’s just as aware of your abilities.”
“True.” I hesitated. “Aiden suggested I ring Mom and get the gossip on him.”
She blinked. “You know, that might not be a bad idea.”
“I don’t know, Belle—”
“She won’t reject you, Liz. She never did, even if she wasn’t the most caring parent.”
I took a deep, somewhat shuddering breath. Rejection certainly was a fear, and its origin wasn’t the years of being told I wasn’t good enough, but rather the reaction of both my parents when we’d lost my sister, Cat. They’d blamed me for her death; hell, I blamed me, simply because, in the end, I hadn’t been strong—
“And if they’d actually listened to you—or actually believed your psi abi
lities just that once,” Belle cut in tartly, “your sister might well have survived. Her death is on their shoulders, not yours. I’ve long thought their over-the-top reaction was in part due to that knowledge.”
“You’ve never said that to me.”
“I did. You never wanted to hear it.”
Probably because thinking about that time—about them—sparked all the fear, disbelief, and horror to life. And I really wasn’t looking forward to reliving them under the truth seeker’s ministrations.
“I’m not entirely sure what ringing my mother will actually achieve aside from awkwardness. It’s been too long—”
“For both of us,” she said gently. “But for your peace of mind, more than your mother’s, you need to speak to her. If nothing else, you can ask her why she never objected to the so-called marriage.”
“I guess.” I wrinkled my nose, not really wanting to think about it at all right now. “Have you contacted your mom yet?”
“I tried calling her cell phone but she must have changed numbers. I left a message on the home phone instead.” Belle laughed softly. “She always was a social butterfly.”
She was also kind, generous, and loving. She—and her contacts—was also the reason the two of us had been able to disappear so thoroughly. “I’d love to be a fly on the wall when she finally listens to that message.”
“Yeah.” Belle’s smile was bright with anticipation and absolute happiness. “I’ll probably have to hold the phone away from my ear for several minutes while she gets her screaming and sobbing over with.”
This moment had been a very long time coming for Belle, and I couldn’t have been more pleased. She’d given up so much more than I had when we’d both gone on the run. “She probably won’t be the only one sobbing.”
“Absolutely not.” Belle made a motion toward the stairs. “Go soak in the tub for an hour or so. I’ll ring Jenna and let her know we’ll be ready by eight.”
I nodded and wearily climbed the stairs. Once I’d filled the bathtub, I threw in some Epsom salts as well as a mix of lavender and rosemary oils, then spent the next hour doing nothing more than topping up the water’s heat and listening to music.
Dinner was a chicken, avocado, and cheese pizza with barbeque sauce for me, and a traditional Aussie pizza for Belle, followed up by coffee and the last two slices of banana bread cheesecake. To say I felt better after that mountain of food was an understatement. Maybe the changes I was undergoing thanks to the wild magic were also altering my appetite; if that was true, I just had to hope it also adjusted my metabolic rate. I was happy with my current weight and really didn’t want it to go up—or down, for that matter.
The two women appeared right on the dot of eight. Ruby strode in and scanned the café with interest. “Lovely atmosphere in this room, but it’s really not suitable for what we have to do. Have you got somewhere more comfortable?”
“We’ve a sofa upstairs,” I said, “but the four of us won’t fit on it.”
“That’s fine—we’ll be quite happy with one of the café chairs. It’s more your comfort during the reading that we’re worried about.”
I directed them toward the stairs and then said, “Would either of you like tea or coffee?”
“A green tea would be lovely,” Ruby said.
“I’ll have a revitalizing potion, if you don’t mind making it,” Jenna said. “This process knocks me about a fair bit.”
As they continued on, I made the drinks and then carried them up on a tray. The coffee table had been shifted to one side, and the two chairs we kept on the balcony had been dragged inside. One had been positioned in front of the sofa and the other was off to the side.
I placed the tray on the table, handed out the drinks, and then sat beside Belle on the sofa.
“So, what’s the process?”
“It’s quite simple, really.” Jenna perched on the chair in front of me, then placed the potion on the floor. “Or will be, once you drop those mental shields of yours. You simply have to think back to the moment you were first told of the marriage, and I’ll take it from there.”
I frowned. “So you’ll just be verbalizing my memories for the sake of the recording?”
“No, I’ll actually be bringing your memories to life so that the camera can record them. They’ll basically be a movie that plays out in the space between us for as long as my mind is connected with yours. I’ll be verbally overlaying that with both your thoughts and replies, as the two aren’t always the same.”
“That’s one hell of a variation on telepathy,” Belle commented.
“Yes, and there’re few who can do it—and fewer still who actually want to do it.”
“I’m guessing that’s why you asked for a potion,” Belle said.
“Truth seeking is a young person’s game, to be sure,” Jenna agreed. Her gaze returned to mine. “Drop your shields and relax. Once I make the connection, I’ll ask you to think back to the day you were first informed about the marriage and then I’ll control the direction from there.”
I nodded and drank some coffee. It didn’t help with the nerves; didn’t help ease the churning in my stomach.
Belle removed her fortifications, and then I let my shields fall. I felt naked without them; vulnerable.
“I should warn you,” I said, “One of my psi skills is psychometry so—”
“That’s fine,” Jenna cut in. “Skin on skin contact isn’t necessary.”
She scooted the chair forward until our knees touched, then placed one hand palm up on my thigh and the other palm down.
“Right,” she said. “Think back to the first time you were informed about the marriage.”
I took a deep breath and then closed my eyes and reached for the memories I’d long kept shuttered. For an instant nothing happened; I’d built the walls around them very well indeed. But, gradually, the memories stirred. Walking into my father’s study, stopping when I see Clayton. Hating the way he looks at me, like I’m a prime piece of meat, ready for the market. My father, telling me he has some news, asking me if I want a drink, giving me a Coke that’s already been opened. It tastes odd, and that oddness sweeps through me. I sit frozen, unable to move, to react, as thin threads of his magic curl around me—through me—pushing away my growing fear, holding me still.
Clayton has petitioned for your hand in marriage, my father says, and I believe it would be a good match.
No, I want to scream, No!
But I’m held immobile as my father continues, I have given my consent. All we need now is yours.
I open my mouth. Try to say no. What comes out is yes.
Horror sweeps through me. Horror and hurt and a deep sense of denial. Clayton steps forward to kiss me, his lips consuming mine, cold and horrible. I shudder, shake, but cannot deny him. Cannot move. I stare at my father beseechingly, but all I see is anger. Anger and a deep need to get rid of the child he believes should have been the one taken.
Clayton releases me, steps away, and the two men shake hands. The agreement is finalized, the marriage to be formalized within the next week.
I sob but the sound never makes it past my lips… not then, not later. The spell lies within. No one sees it. Only Belle knows that something is wrong…
The images stop, only to jump forward to my wedding day. Or night, as it’s late. No white dress, no fanfare, and no bridal flowers. The ceremony is a simple one, performed at home with only my parents present. The spell still controls me. I speak as required and obediently sign all the documents. There’s no celebration. No congratulations. Nothing is said. I’m simply handed over to my new husband and led from the room.
Again there’s a time jump. I’m in Clayton’s house, in his bedroom, and he’s pawing at me, ripping my clothes from me, touching and kissing me, his hands cold and clammy, his breathing hot and heavy. I want to fight, want to run, but I can’t. I scream and I scream but there is no sound, no means to call for help.
But my rage—my fear—finds voic
e in another. Belle. She breaks into the room, her hands alive with power unlike anything I’ve ever seen before; it’s hers and mine and something else, something that looks like lightning and moonlight combined. He reacts, his magic spitting out almost instinctively. She knocks his attack away and casts a spell that freezes him, casts another that causes his erection to deflate, then pushes him off me. As he crashes from the bed to the floor, she grabs me, pulling me to my feet and helping me dress.
We run. Into a waiting car, into the arms of Belle’s mother…
The memories fade, and it’s only then I realize that I’m shaking and sobbing. Belle’s holding me fiercely, her tears wet against my cheek, her body trembling as badly as mine.
Jenna removed her hands from my thighs, but for several minutes, no one says anything. Eventually, I take a deep breath and gently pull away from Belle. “Well, that was every bit as bad as I thought it’d be.”
“I can see why you shored those memories up so tightly.” Ruby’s voice held no emotion, but her fury rolled across my skin. “I think there’s more than enough here to start an investigation. I don’t believe we need further testimony from Belle.”
“Are you sure?” she said, doubt evident. “I’d rather get it over with now and have a watertight case against these bastards.”
“We’ve already filmed your mother’s memories—”
“She did that?” I cut in. “Willingly?”
“Yes,” Ruby said. “Her memories corroborate some of what we’ve just seen.”
“And the ones that don’t?”
“Involve situations where you were not present.”
I hesitated, but couldn’t help asking, “How did she react when you told her the marriage was forced?”
“I’m afraid I can’t say—audits are confidential.”
“What about my father, then? Have you talked to him as yet?”
Jenna bent to pick up the revitalizing potion. “No.”
“Why not?”
“Because we must speak to all witness and view all statements before approaching suspects. But I have no doubt it’ll happen once the board sees your memories.”
“And the chances of any prosecution being successful?” Belle asked.