I looked away. I couldn’t admit I was questioning my own daughter, even to my best friend.
“Where did I put it now?” she mumbled to herself, getting to her feet.
I flashed back to that rainy night in Toronto almost seventeen years before. The night Madam Brun had given me the ominous choice to either abort my fetus or entrust the Book of Rochus to her for safe keeping.
“Are you listening to me?” Leslie asked, wrenching me from my thoughts. I looked down, realizing I’d unpacked a whole box without checking off the inventory list.
“Sorry, I was just thinking about Saturday and all I have to do. Do you think you can pop in and check on the new girl? I know it’s your free weekend but Alana’s friends are coming over for her birthday.”
“You asked me that last week.”
“Right and you said yes. It’s this relentless headache; it’s making me flighty.”
“Why don’t you go home and lie down?”
My eyes focused on the window. The black bird was still hanging around.
“I will. Thanks, Les.” At the sound of my voice the raven shifted its gaze to me. Daphne leapt at the window and it flew away. Hopefully it wouldn’t be back, I thought, spotting the missing psychology book and shoving it into my bag.
FOUR
Hunedoara, Romania, 1494
M orning came quickly, and with it the realization that Sofia needed to escape the castle. As light started to peek through the tower window, she felt Costin shift beside her, and she turned her head so that she could kiss his brow.
“Costin, you must wake, the birds are chirping.”
They had planned only to sit together for a little while—stargazing as they had as children—but at some point, it had grown cool and they’d moved inside, only to drift away into slumber. Perhaps Sofia should have pulled away by now, the castle would be awake. It had been years since they’d risked star gazing in the castle.
Sofia never felt such peace, such happiness, as when she was with Costin. The sadness she felt at knowing they could never be together caused her to ache all the way down to her bones. He was still fast asleep, holding Sofia tight; squeezing his arms around her every time she shifted to get up, as if he realized her intention was to sneak away. At last he stirred.
“Good morning, my angel. I’m so glad you didn’t hurry away. “
“But I should have. Now we’re trapped.”
“There’s no place I’d rather be. I don’t understand why you won’t come away with me, Sofia. We could live a simple life free of my mother and her relentless hate.”
Sofia smiled and kissed him lightly before forcing herself to stand. “No, as much as I wish it, I can’t abandon my mother. Besides it would only be a matter of hours before your grandfather would have his castle guards on the hunt.”
“True, but that would only make us go further and faster.”
He stood, doing nothing to hide what morning had done to him, and Sofia’s face reddened at the sight of him. “How will I get out of the castle unseen?” she asked.
“We’ll use the hidden corridor just as before. Trust me, no one knows of our secret place.” He gathered her up in his arms, pulling her in close so that she could scarcely breathe. “I love you, Sofia, and I won’t give up on the idea of us being together. When I can, I shall ask you to marry me. In time, my mother will learn to accept it.”
Sofia tensed and pulled away. She couldn’t have him make promises to her that she knew he couldn’t keep. Costin was a good man, but his mother would never accept her into the family. She had made that very clear.
He grabbed her quickly, silencing her with his mouth. Her head spun and her knees buckled. “Tell me that you’ll meet me again tonight. I can’t live if I haven’t the hope of holding you in my arms.”
Sofia smiled. Her waning resistance shattered by his pretty words.
He kissed her once more and led her through the secret corridor, down the stairs and outside the castle walls to the edge of the woods. He smiled as they parted ways. Once he was gone, she scanned the horizon. Seeing it clear, she made her way back through the woods.
FIVE
I stood still, peering in through the darkened glass, looking for someone, although I couldn’t pinpoint who. The rain was light, little more than a drizzle. Wetting rain as Cullen would’ve called it. The inside of the store was familiar to me—large purple drapes like I’d seen in a psychic shop once before.
My skin was tingling, and despite the cool mist, I had begun to sweat. Very slowly I looked down and watched my belly swell. My breasts were changing, too, and my belly continued to grow at an alarming rate until it protruded out like a basketball—like a woman about to give birth.
There were distinct sounds coming from within the shop—a familiar shuffling of cards and the faint sound of a baby crying. The bell above the door chimed as I stepped inside and waddled to the back of the shop where a figure cloaked in shadow sat at a table shuffling oversized cards. A terrible stabbing came from within my stomach and I keeled over. When the pain subsided, I straightened and no longer had the enlarged tummy.
I sank down in the chair facing the shadowed woman with no face. She handed me another card but it was blank. Then she pointed to the front of the shop. Through the glass, standing in the darkened street was a young girl that had transformed into a hideous beast.
I lurched awake. The nightmare was a familiar one. I’d been having it off and on for the last seventeen years —ever since that night in Madam Brun’s shop when she’d read my tarot cards.
I came down the hall in my slippers and long white robe. Daphne was fast asleep on the wingback chair in the corner of my husband’s study. And why wouldn’t she be? It was the middle of the night. Everyone slept peacefully, but me.
The fire was not quite out.
I added a log and stirred it, bringing the flames back to life. I knew I wouldn’t get back to sleep, so I perused the shelf where I kept my classics.
Despite the fire, the room was still dim, so I could hardly read the titles but I didn’t feel like anything specific, anyway; I just wanted to get sleepy and forget about the nightmare. I held my hand out, running it along the books until the leather of one in particular warmed my hand. Taking Bram Stoker’s Dracula down from the shelf, I curled up in the window seat, propping myself against a pillow and nestling under a soft chenille throw to combat the chill in the air. Rain flooded down the glass inches from my face. Nothing beat the sound of rain and the feel of a book in your hands. It was times like this I missed the idea of being a librarian—not that I wasn’t around books anymore, but these days I also had to count inventory, track shipments and balance the accounting books. Mysterious Adventures in Ink wasn’t much of a moneymaker, but with Cullen’s bank account, we hardly needed more money, and connecting people with books was my passion. That and being a good wife and mother, which I wasn’t sure I was, these days.
I looked down at the book I’d grabbed from the shelf, ready to dive into the distraction. Somehow Rochus’ spell book lay in my hands. What was it doing on the shelf? I walked over to the drawer where we’d kept it locked for the last fifteen years and placed it back inside. I ran my hand over the embossed design. My fingers tingled at the familiar touch.
“How did you get out?” I whispered.
A floorboard creaked.
“I didn’t know I was to stay put,” returned a deep and sleepy voice from the doorway.
Startled, I shut the drawer with a thud and moved back around the desk to the window seat.
Cullen sauntered over in only his pajama bottoms. He had great shoulders, a great chest and, oh man, those abs. He was rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
“Ye might have tried the handcuffs in the nightstand if ye meant to keep me yer prisoner, Aeval.”
I smiled.
At almost forty he still made my heart beat a little faster.
“What are ye doin’ up? Ye went to bed hours ago.”
“I c
ouldn’t sleep.”
“I don’t blame ye. It’s absolutely lashin’ out there.”
“It wasn’t the rain that woke me.”
He nodded. “Ye’re still bothered over what Alana said.”
Tears filled my eyes. Where had time gone? One minute she’d been toddling around the place climbing cupboards and trees and next she was a moody sixteen-year-old hating on me like it was her full-time job. I thought of my Great-Grandmother, Gigi. She’d raised me and she’d done such a good job, had always been attentive and understanding. How had she done it? If only there was a way to text Heaven.
Cullen wrapped his arms around me and I inched over so we could both fit into the window seat.
“She’s actin’ the maggot. Ye said it yourself earlier. It’s a phase. A really snarky bugger of a phase, but she’ll come around.”
I leaned my back against the window pane and stared at the small flames licking at the hearth.
“Remember when we took her camping and she threw her little chair on the fire because I told her no more marshmallows?”
“She was always bold when hungry, that one.” Cullen laughed. “Just like her mum.”
I turned and smiled at him. “I should have known then and there that we were in trouble. That was the first time she told me she hated me. She was five, Cullen!”
A blast of wind shook the pane and I shifted my gaze to look outside. The storm fired tiny pellets at the window like a machine gun. I caught my reflection in the glass. My hair was a tangled mess. I tried to fix it.
“Sophia, luv, ye’re awful gorgeous when ye worry, but ye needn’t do it. Ye’re a damn good mum and Alana doesn’t hate ye!”
“No, she doesn’t hate you.” I remarked.
“I’m gone half the week. Ye’r rulin’ the roost, so of course she’s after rebellin’ against ye.”
“I don’t want to rule the roost.”
“Good then, I will. Can we go to bed now? I’m knackered.”
I nodded, thinking once again of the book as he helped me to my feet.
“Cullen, do you know why—”
“Why ye’re exposin’ things? I haven’t a clue, but if it’s an invitation, then I accept.” A smile curved his lips.
I looked down. My robe was tied off-center and the top three buttons of the nightshirt I wore underneath had come undone.
I laughed. “I thought you were tired.”
“I’m feelin’ lively now. Besides it’s only three.”
He pulled me in tight against his side. His arms were my safe and happy place, just as they’d been for the last seventeen years. It was hard to imagine we’d been together that long.
We walked down the hall and he shushed me as I tried once again to ask him about the book.
“Ye’ll wake Alana, love, and ye really don’t want her hearing the things I’m goin’ to do to ye.”
I laughed, giving in; I could ask him tomorrow. I climbed onto the bed and he surprised me by sliding in on my side. I felt his hand slip under my nightshirt, molding itself over my hip. I turned towards him.
“We’ve led quite a life together, haven’t we?”
The room was dark, but I could make out his trademark smirk.
“Awe, but I wouldn’t change a thing.”
I couldn’t be sure I felt the same way.
SIX
Hunedoara, Romania, 1494
A lexandra watched from her hiding place at the edge of the castle wall as her son, Costin, led the little trollop away. Alexandra silently followed him yesterday to learn just what the fool was up to now.
Just as expected, he’d brought the girl—the wolf’s daughter—through the tunnel to his hiding place. He thought that his mother didn’t know of the secret tower room, as if she was some idiot. She almost laughed out loud. She knew of it and far more. She’d used that very room herself for the very same reason once upon a time. Oh, the ignorant bliss of youth.
It wasn’t until she saw the girl curled up in his arms that she knew things had grown far too serious between them. She had tried for years to nip this situation in the bud, but he wouldn’t listen, and now things were out of control. If the girl got with child, Costin would be cornered. The thought made her angry and for a moment she could almost forgive her own mother for what she’d done to the raven-haired boy—almost. Alexandra could never be as cruel as her own mother. Or could she?
She shook the memory away.
What good would it do her to be free of that witch Elena, if Costin was saddled with the reddish wolf’s daughter? Why couldn’t that boy just listen?
She remained in her hiding spot watching for a few minutes longer and then the solution came to her as they kissed. She would get rid of the daughter, too.
SEVEN
T he warmth of my bed was seductive, but it was time to get up and entertain a house full of teenagers. I threw off the sheets, planted a kiss on Cullen’s sleeping cheek and headed into the ensuite.
After showering and twisting my long dark hair up into a top knot, I swiped a bit of lip gloss onto my lips, and threw on a white jumpsuit. Studying myself in the cheval mirror, I decided I could no longer pass for sixteen but I could pass for thirty which of course was younger than my real age. I made sure to pop a couple of Advil and headed down the stairs.
The tantalizing smell of bacon blanketed the kitchen. I grabbed one of the pieces from the pan, crunching it between my teeth. The griddle was out on the counter, but it was still clean. Cullen must have started breakfast and then changed his mind. I pulled the pantry open and assembled the flour, cocoa powder, sugar, cookies, salt and baking soda for the double-stuffed Oreo pancakes—Alana’s favorite. I was just about to measure the ingredients into the giant mixing bowl, when I noticed the freshly brewed, dark-roast coffee.
The first sip almost chased the pain in my temples away, and then Alana walked into the kitchen with a hips-first, runway-model stride. Her kinky, reddish-blonde hair was pulled back by my peach and yellow floral bandana and her half-woman-half-child body was clad in an almost sheer sundress. She was backed by Hannah Walsh, a petite girl with a pixie cut.
Alana’s blue-green eyes were abnormally shiny, and fixated on me.
“Hello, earth to ma,” she said in a high-pitched, almost baby-doll voice.
I looked around, but I could feel myself moving as though in slow motion, or underwater. A tingle of awareness yanked my attention back from my thoughts.
“Sorry, sweetheart. I’m just so tired lately. I was thinking how grown up you look.” Nostalgia took me over as I pulled her in for a hug. “I can still remember your seventh birthday…”
“Ugh, mum, enough with the tenderness and the teary memories.”
“Oh, okay. Yeah … sorry. What time will your friends be here?” I took down the jar of colored drink umbrellas and shook it at her. “I’ll make slushies and Da can fire up the grill.”
She gave me a weary look and my eyes dropped to the floor. It was pathetic, but at times Alana made me feel like the needy child in the relationship.
“Let’s put the umbrellas back in the press,” she said, taking the jar from my hands as if she’d grown up overnight. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to rip her limb from limb or hug her tight to me again. I could hear my Gigi’s voice ringing in my head: She’s testing her boundaries.
“I thought slushies would be fun. It’s for your birthday, honey,” I said, trying to keep the hurt from my voice.
“My birthday was yesterday and we already had a hooley. I just want a day to be with my friends.”
“Right, well I’ll call off the clowns and balloon maker then.”
Neither girl laughed. Tough crowd.
I glanced out the window and saw Cullen sitting at the patio table. He would have laughed.
I cleared my throat. “I was just about to make your favorite birthday breakfast.”
“No thanks. Hannah’s on a paleo diet this week plus we’ve got some decent sunshine for once so we’d rather look hot.�
�
“Well you need to eat something.”
“Da made bacon and we had some fruit. Oh, but Hannah brought you your favorite Cinnamon Crème Raspberry tart.”
How thoughtful of you to bring me some of the carbs you’re not eating. “Thank you, Hannah,” I said, pulling the devilish little tart from the box. “They look delicious, but, seriously, you girls need to stop bringing these treats. My jeans are getting tight and I think I may be developing an addiction.”
“When’s Móraí coming?”
“Around noon,” I answered, taking a nice size piece out of the pastry. The tang of the raspberries thrilled my taste buds.
“I wonder what Móraí got me this year,” Alana said, turning to her girlfriend. “She always gets the best gifts.”
“Another trip…to Paris maybe…or a car?” her friend said, clapping her hands together enthusiastically.
It had better not be either, I thought, biting into the remainder of the tart to silence my tongue.
“If you girls don’t need anything, I’m going to go read outside for an hour.”
Neither of them looked at me.
“Great! Then Da and I will fade into the background. Let us know if you want some burgers or something.”
Alana grunted, which I took as my cue to leave. I headed to the garden patio through the French doors. Cullen had disappeared but Daphne was curled up on one of two loungers about ten feet from the patio table, licking her paws. I hurried over to her, giving her a friendly scratch, then I set my book, Evil: Nature or Nurture, on the table next to her and fanned out a blanket before sitting down. The sunshine felt warm on my skin and before I knew it, I’d almost dozed off.
Something was crawling on my arm. I looked up, startled.
“Howya gorgeous, is this spot taken?” Cullen towered above me in jeans and a t-shirt. I felt a familiar fluttering.
“I suppose you can sit here, but only until my husband arrives. He’s the jealous sort.”
Cruel Fortunes Omnibus: Volumes One to Four Page 71
