by R. L. King
It wasn’t possible.
Someone was playing a cruel joke on him—that had to be it.
But no, there it was, in black and white, swirling in front of his vision:
The bride was accompanied by friends Moira Barclay and Eliza Tarnsmith, and her mother, Vanessa Godfrey.
Vanessa…Godfrey?
No…that wasn’t right. Godfrey had been his mother’s maiden name, yes, but this woman—
Recognition slammed him as the connection snapped into place.
No—this woman’s name wasn’t Vanessa Godfrey. At least that wasn’t the name he’d known her as, when he’d sat across a table from her less than a month ago.
She was Nessa Lennox.
The old woman who’d attended the dinner when he and Verity had visited Anna Canby’s group’s complex. The head of the group, in fact.
Stone’s entire body went cold as he continued staring down at the name, then grabbed the photo back and looked at it again in light of this new information.
No doubt existed in his mind now that he’d made the connection: it had to be the same woman. She looked younger, yes, but the resemblance was too close to be anyone else. And the resemblance to his mother was unmistakable as well.
And if that was true, then Nessa Lennox, the leader of a powerful organization of female mages that stretched back for decades or even centuries was…his grandmother?
More importantly, did that mean his mother had been involved in the group?
And more importantly still—did the group have something to do with this “sacrificial ritual” his father had spoken of? Were they the ones who’d bidden his mother to steal him from his home before he was even born and bring him to them?
Nessa Lennox was in charge of the group. Had she been then? Was it possible that she had ordered all of this? Could his own grandmother have ordered his murder when he was barely days old?
Stone sagged in his chair, the photo dropping from his hand and fluttering back to the desk. An inarticulate moan escaped him. “No, no, no…” he whispered.
It couldn’t be. This was insane. There had to be another explanation. He and Verity had visited them, toured their compound, and he’d seen no sign of any malevolent magic. The whole place had seemed nothing more than a remote location dedicated to magical study. How could they—
Oh dear gods—Verity.
He sat up straight.
Before she’d left, Verity had told him she’d wanted to go back to the group—that she’d wanted to take them up on their offer to study with them. He couldn’t let that happen—not until he’d sorted this all out.
He pulled his mobile phone from his pocket, then hesitated.
Verity was safely back East, visiting Sharra—and probably wanting to get away from him for a while so she could sort out her feelings about what had happened between them. If he called her, it might upset whatever effort she’d made toward that end. It might make her think he was stalking her, not giving her the space she needed.
He almost put the phone away, but then he tightened his hand around it. No, she had to know about this, before she spent any more time convincing herself she wanted to go back to them. He didn’t know anything for sure yet, of course—a couple of photos and a wedding announcement were hardly definitive evidence—but he could at least tell her what was going on and let her make her own decision from there.
Before he could change his mind, he located Sharra’s number and placed the call, waiting impatiently as it rang several times.
“Hello?”
“Sharra? It’s Alastair Stone.”
“Oh, hi. V wondered if you might call.”
Stone didn’t let himself think too much about what that could mean. “Is she there? I need to speak with her. It’s rather urgent.”
“You haven’t seen her? She left a couple days ago, headed back to Cali. Said it was silly to stay away, and she just needed to get back and talk to you about some stuff.”
Of course. She wouldn’t have known he’d gone to England, as he hadn’t called to tell her. He wondered how much Verity had told Sharra of what had happened, but couldn’t think of a way to ask without arousing her curiosity if his apprentice hadn’t said anything. “Oh. Er—all right. Thank you.”
“I guess you must not be there, if you didn’t see her.”
“No, I’m in England for a bit. Thank you, Sharra. I’ll give her a call.”
“Is everything okay?” She sounded concerned. “V was kind of agitated for a while when she first got here, but she wouldn’t say why.”
“Everything’s fine. I’ll talk to you later. Thanks.” He broke the connection before she could say anything else, and hoped his words didn’t end up being a lie.
Next, he called his place in Palo Alto. He wasn’t sure whether Verity would answer, but at least he could leave her a message and hope she’d get back to him soon. He did the time zone calculation—it would be evening there. The phone rang three times, then the machine picked up, just as he’d expected it to. “Verity—it’s me. I’m home right now—could you give me a call back as soon as you get this message? I need to talk to you about something a bit urgent. I—”
The line picked up, but the voice that answered wasn’t Verity’s. “Dr. Stone? That you?” It sounded surprised.
For a moment he didn’t recognize the voice, but then it came to him. “Mr. Greene? What are you doing there so late?”
“Oh, yeah. I got back late, so I figured I’d stop by and take care of Raider tonight. Everything okay?”
“Yes. I’m looking for Verity. Is she there?”
“Nope, she’s gone. She showed up a couple days ago, but then she said she had to go away for a while, so I should keep coming back to look after Raider.” He paused, then asked, “What did you mean, you’re home right now? There’s nobody here but me and the furball.”
“Er—never mind. Did she say where she was going?”
“No, but I heard her calling somebody named Jason. Maybe he’d know?”
“Thank you, Mr. Greene. I don’t know how long I’ll be away, so I’d appreciate it if you could keep coming by until I tell you otherwise. Standard arrangement.”
“Sure thing, Doc. No problem. Hope you find her.”
Stone hung up again, growing more concerned. Where could Verity be? It made sense that she’d returned home—maybe she’d already worked through whatever emotional issues she’d needed space to deal with. But then she’d left again?
Ah—of course. She’d called Jason. If she’d arrived home and found him gone, perhaps she’d decided to head down to Ventura and visit her brother. She’d only recently moved back to the Bay Area, so she probably missed him.
He punched in the familiar number, glad that Jason’s job as a trainee private investigator had necessitated him getting a mobile phone of his own.
He answered refreshingly quickly. “Jason Thayer.”
“Hello, Jason.”
“Hey, Al. How’s it going?”
“Fine. I’m looking for your sister. Is she there?”
A pause. “Why would she be here?”
“My house-sitter told me he’d heard her calling you. I’m home in England for a while, taking care of some business—that’s why I’m calling so early, by the way. I figured she might have gone down to visit you.”
“Nope. Didn’t she call you?”
“No…should she have?”
“I thought she would. She told me about this group of female mages over there that you guys had visited last month, and you two had discussed her going to study with them for a while. She said she called them and told them she wanted to do that, and they invited her over. She left the day before yesterday. Said she was gonna take the portal over. I’m surprised she didn’t tell you.”
“Oh. Er—well, perhaps we got our wires cro
ssed.” Stone fought to keep his voice even so Jason wouldn’t hear his sudden agitation. “I’ve been quite busy lately. I’ll check with Aubrey—perhaps she called the house and he forgot to give me the message.”
Another pause. “Al, is everything okay?”
“Fine,” he said, too quickly. “Just—a lot going on, dealing with the Desmond situation.”
“Right. Hey, I’m really sorry about that. Anything I can do to help?”
“No, no, everything’s settling down now. I should be back home in a few days.” I hope. “Thanks, Jason. Must go now. Take care.”
“You too.” Jason still sounded dubious, as if he suspected he wasn’t getting the whole story, but he didn’t push it.
Stone put the phone on his desk and stared down at the clippings and photos he’d spread across its surface. His gaze settled on the image of the younger Nessa Lennox and a chill ran through him.
She must have known. She must have realized who he was when he’d visited their complex. Had any of the others? Hell, if Aubrey was right and they had been involved in some sort of sacrifice ritual, that had been nearly forty years ago. Most of the other women he’d seen had been much younger—certainly too young to have been involved in something that long ago. What had they been doing in the meantime? Had they stolen other infants to use in whatever bizarre practices they were up to, or had that all been a thing of the past, long put aside and forgotten?
It didn’t matter. Verity was there, and he had to get her out.
He shoved his hand through his hair. How was he going to do that? He had no way to reach Verity, other than calling the complex—she didn’t have a mobile phone. He also had no idea where the complex even was, due to the group’s secretiveness about their portal coordinates. He could try to track Verity with a ritual, but it would likely fail due to the high level of magical energy and all the wards around their buildings.
He stopped.
Hold on.
You’re being an idiot.
He supposed he had an excuse—he’d been hit by so many emotional gut-punches in the past month that he was beginning to feel like a bad boxer. His brain wasn’t exactly operating at peak capacity, so it was no surprise it had taken longer than usual for the obvious answer to come to him.
He didn’t have to concern himself with any of that—whether Nessa Lennox knew who he was, or finding a way to track down the physical location of her group’s complex.
He’d been so immersed in all this insanity, so intent on digging up all these horrific skeletons from his past, that it hadn’t occurred to him right away:
They didn’t know anything.
They didn’t have any idea what he’d been up to, or what he’d learned.
Just because he and Verity had visited the complex, and some of the women—including Nessa—had attended Desmond’s funeral service, didn’t mean they knew he’d discovered the truth about his mother, or found the strange wooden object, or even knew that Nessa Lennox was his grandmother. How could they? The only way he’d found these things out was by uncovering long-hidden information that only Desmond and Aubrey had known. He’d gone nearly forty years without discovering it—why should they expect he’d suddenly done so now? Verity didn’t even know any of the details, since he hadn’t learned them himself until after she had left for Sharra’s. Even if they convinced her to tell them the story, she couldn’t reveal anything incriminating. As far as she was aware, Stone barely knew anything about his mother at all.
He thought it over, leaning in back in his chair and closing his eyes. He’d have to be careful—forgetting anything or making a mistake could put Verity in danger. But he couldn’t see any flaws in his reasoning. Hell, even if the women knew Desmond’s mundane will had been revealed, they couldn’t know the contents of the magical one. They had no way to suspect the contents of the journal, or even that it existed. And given how careful Desmond had clearly been during the aftermath of his confrontation with Orion, and how quickly he’d put the strange wooden sculpture under multiple wards, Stone was reasonably sure they didn’t know where that had ended up either. If they did, why hadn’t they made any attempt to reclaim it in all that time?
No, he decided: the best plan would be to take the direct approach. He was Verity’s master, and Anna Canby had told them both that the group respected the traditional relationship between master and apprentice. It wouldn’t look odd at all if he gave them a call and asked to speak to Verity.
He frowned, opening his eyes and taking another look at the photo of Nessa Lennox as he thought about Anna Canby. How was she involved in this, if at all? She was far too young to have been part of the group that had taken him—mages aged slowly, but not that slowly. She was no older than he was. Did she know about what her group had been up to? And what, if anything, had been responsible for both his and Verity’s lingering sense that they’d met her somewhere before?
He could find those answers—and he intended to. He would discover the truth about what had happened all those years ago, regardless of the cost to him. He had to know.
But his first responsibility was to make sure his apprentice was safe and well away from those women before he did anything.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Anna Canby didn’t suspect a thing when he called. In fact, she seemed pleased to hear from him.
“Oh, Dr. Stone, I hope you’re doing well,” she said. “Is there something I can do for you?”
“Yes, I think so. I understand Verity is there.”
“She is. She arrived a couple of days ago. She’s decided she wants to spend some time with us after all. That’s still all right with you, isn’t it?”
“Of course. I need to speak to her, though—something’s come up that I’ve got to ask her about. Is she around?”
“She is, but I’m afraid she’s right in the middle of a demonstration right now, over on the other side of the complex. Could I have her ring you back when she’s done, in about an hour? Or—even better: are you here in England now?”
“Yes.”
“Why don’t you just come up here? You can spend the day with us, have dinner, and have a chance to chat with Verity privately. You’re welcome to stay as long as you like, of course.”
Stone almost declined the invitation, but then rethought. If he actually traveled there, he’d have an easier time talking to Verity and explaining to her why both of them had to leave as soon as possible. It wasn’t the sort of thing he wanted to tell her over the phone, just in case anyone might be listening in. “Thank you, Ms. Canby. I think I’ll take you up on that. But the portal—”
She chuckled. “You needn’t worry, Dr. Stone. I think after we’ve all had a chance to meet you and Verity, we no longer need to concern ourselves with your knowing our location. I’m sure we can count on your discretion. When do you expect to arrive?”
“You said Verity would be done in an hour—how would that be, then?”
“Excellent. Let me give you the portal coordinates, and we’ll look forward to seeing you soon.”
Stone hung up, surprised to find his heart racing. Don’t be a fool, he told himself. She doesn’t know—and she won’t, if you don’t make her suspicious by acting like something’s wrong. Anna Canby probably didn’t even know anything about what had happened. All he had to do was get up there, get Verity alone long enough to explain the situation to her, and get them the hell out before anyone caught on. After that, he could turn his attention to what to do about Nessa Lennox.
About his grandmother.
The word sounded strange to him, as if associated with some other person, not him. He’d been told from the time he was a small child that his grandparents on his father’s side of the family had died before he was born, and he’d always assumed his maternal grandparents were dead as well—or at least completely out of his reach. Occasionally he had felt bad about this as a boy,
especially when listening to his boarding-school mates going on about visiting their grandparents, but it hadn’t taken him long to get over it. It was simply a fact of life, like his blue eyes and tall frame. Wishing it otherwise wouldn’t change it.
He hurried upstairs, where he took a quick shower, shaved, and changed out of his dusty clothes. He didn’t wear a suit this time, though, opting for his more customary black T-shirt and jeans. He and Verity wouldn’t be staying for dinner, let alone remaining overnight.
Aubrey hailed him as he came down. “Sir? Did you find what you were looking for in that old box?”
“Er—sort of. I still need to do some more research. Listen, Aubrey—I need to leave for a while. Should be home later this evening.”
The caretaker gave him a sideways glance. He didn’t ask questions, though it was clear he wanted to. “Yes, sir. Are you sure you’re all right? You still look tired, and you’ve had quite a lot of unexpected shocks over the past day or so.”
“I’m all right.” He hated to lie to Aubrey, but explaining would take too long. “I’ve just got—something I need to take care of. I’ll see you tonight.”
Aubrey nodded, looking unhappy. As Stone turned away to leave, he called, “Sir?”
“Yes?”
“Be careful, whatever it is you’re doing.”
“I will.” He waited for the caretaker to leave, then headed for the door.
But first he had one detour he needed to make.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Lila, the same woman who’d taken Stone and Verity through the portal from A Passage to India the first time, was waiting for him when he arrived in the familiar, wood-paneled portal room at the complex. “Welcome back,” she said with smile. “Anna’s waiting for you. I’ll take you to her.”
“Thank you. Is Verity there too?”
“I believe she’s on her way back from the demonstration she was attending. It’s a bit of a walk. She’ll be along in a few minutes.”
Stone followed her, tracing the same path they’d taken up some stairs and into the main visitors’ hall. She led him to the same small sitting room where he’d spoken with Anna Canby before. “Here we are,” she said, and departed.
