by Jane Kindred
“Clara was a godsend. We didn’t meet at school. We met at a home for girls in trouble. My father had arranged for me to spend the latter months of my pregnancy safely out of sight, and there was Clara, practically my twin, pregnant with a child of her own. I knew at once she was rådande. It was like providence had sent her to me. And she had no one. Her family had disowned her for getting pregnant outside her bloodline.” Signe pressed her hands to her thighs and took a deep breath. “So I had an abortion. And she had Sebastian. And I took him home as mine.” She looked at me expectantly, waiting for a reaction. I was having trouble keeping up.
“So…you’re my…wait.”
“I’m nothing to you, Emilie. Not by blood. Sebastian was not a Strand.” She paused, purposefully, still waiting for me to get it. “You are not a Strand.”
“I’m not a Strand.” A slow wave of relief was washing over me, like the first warm ripple of morphine. I’m not a Strand.
“Per had discovered my deception, and when he learned that Sebastian had put that woman’s—Beverly’s—child in his will, leaving the Strand to her, he came unglued. He was going to write Sebastian out of his will and leave everything to Lukas. Clara’s delusion had taken hold of her by then. She believed she was Per’s sister and that she’d borne him a child, and all of that was about to be taken away from her. She must have used the trees to run Per off the road on the way to his lawyer. She didn’t realize Sebastian and Lukas were in the car. When she learned that we’d lost Bash, she went after Beverly.”
Signe sighed. “I didn’t want to believe she’d done either, that she was capable of such things. So I turned a blind eye. She said the fire was an accident, but that Beverly’s death would mean prying eyes delving into family business, so I let her take care of the bodies.” She paused. “Body, that is.”
It was a moment before she continued, long enough for the sobering knowledge to hit me anew that Clara had burned my mother alive and killed my father, accident or no. Clara, my own grandmother, had been responsible for my lonely, bitter childhood, my scars—so much pain.
“I want you to know, Emilie, that I regret how I’ve treated you. I loved Sebastian like he was my own. Ending my pregnancy was the right thing to do, but it hurt horribly. Sebastian was my consolation. I blamed Beverly for his loss as surely as Clara did, and when I realized who you were, I thought you’d come to blackmail us, to use Lukas for your gain. It wasn’t until Roger turned the attaché case over to me with your birth certificate and the will that I realized I was missing some piece of the puzzle.” Roger. So that was what had happened to it. Signe shook her head with regret. “I wish it had come together in my head sooner. Instead, I sent you directly into the snare of Clara’s madness. I can’t tell you how grateful I am that you protected Konstantin from her. I’d never have been able to forgive myself if my blindness to her illness had taken him from us as well.”
Brushing her palms together with a sort of “well, that’s that, then” expression, she rose. “You’ll want to finish up here, I expect, so you can check out, so I’ll take my leave.” She went to the door, and then turned back. “You realize, of course, this means you have no rightful claim to the Strand estate. The legal documents say otherwise, however, and getting it all untangled would be an extraordinary pain in the ass, so I’ll leave you and Lukas to sort it out for yourselves.”
* * * * *
On the ride home, my head whirled with my newfound knowledge of the ins and outs of this strange family—and the knowledge that I was not a part of it after all. Ares had come to drive me back to the manor on his way to the airport to meet Aristos for their flight home. With Signe’s deposition indicting Clara for Aravella’s murder, the case was all but closed, and Alexis and Basil had already returned to Thessaloniki. Aravella’s ashes had gone with them except for a small portion in an alabaster box that Alexis had given to me before she’d departed.
“Sprinkle it by Koste’s tree,” she’d said. “And be sure to tell him a piece of her is always with him.”
* * * * *
“You’re quiet,” said Ares as we turned up the drive.
“Yeah. I have a lot to think about.”
“He’s an idiot.”
I laughed. “Is he? Why’s that?”
We’d pulled up in front of the house, and Ares turned to me. “Because, sweet Millie. He let me drive you home.” His warm hands slid up the sides of my neck to cup my face, and he seized my mouth in a kiss that made my toes curl. He nearly took my breath with him when he finally pulled away. “You still owe me a rain check, Cinderella. If he isn’t up for the kind of hanky-panky he engaged in with my sister, you tell him I’d be happy to fly back to the States and give you a spanking you’ll never forget. Now take your little slipper with you and get going.” The twinkle in his eye as I opened the door said he knew exactly what state my little “slipper” was in at his words.
Lukas stood at the top of the steps, glaring down at him.
Ares grinned back and waved. “You’re welcome!”
While Ares drove away, I climbed the steps with a blaze of heat in my cheeks, avoiding Lukas’s eyes as he watched me ascend. My car, looking brand-new, was parked at the other end of the drive. I had no idea whether I was coming to collect my things to go home—or if something else was happening here. We hadn’t talked since Signe’s revelation to me this morning. He’d called while I was in the bathroom and left a terse message that Ares was picking me up.
“That was a touching good-bye,” said Lukas when I’d reached the top.
“I believe it was for your benefit, Lukas.”
“Oh, I’m quite sure it was for yours.”
Before I could say anything else, Konstantin came barreling out of the foyer and threw his arms around my waist. “Millie!” he crooned happily against me.
I grinned and ruffled his hair. “Wow, Koste, look at you. No cast!”
“I know! And I ran!”
Lukas was frowning when I glanced at him. “Konstantin, Millie still needs some rest. And I believe you have schoolwork to catch up on.”
Konstantin let go of me reluctantly. “But, Pappa, she just got here.”
“It’s okay.” I smiled and chucked his chin at his pout. “I’ll see you later, Koste. Promise.” With a sigh, Konstantin dragged himself back into the house as if the leg he’d just run at me with were a lead weight.
Lukas led me in, escorting me after I’d removed my shoes as if I were the one being sent to my room.
“Are we going to talk, or am I taking a nap?” I snapped at him when we reached the room. I didn’t know what I’d expected after everything that had happened, but his present demeanor certainly wasn’t it.
Lukas advanced into the room so that I stepped back abruptly, and he closed the door. “Don’t make promises to my son.”
“What is your problem?”
“He’s been through too much. You’re going to break his heart.”
I bit down on my tongue against the sudden burn of tears behind my eyes. My car was parked out front, ready to go. Despite everything that had changed with Signe’s confession, he was sending me home. “How am I going to break his heart?”
“The same way you’re breaking mine.” His voice was rough. “By making us love you.”
My heart pounded in my chest. “Making you? Who’s making you?” I couldn’t figure him out. Was he saying he loved me and sending me away in the same breath? “You know, I’m not your damn niece,” I hissed, blinking back tears. “Doesn’t that matter to you?”
“Does it matter to you? You just groped Ares Apostolou right in front of me.”
“I did not grope him. He kissed me good-bye. And it was a damned good kiss too, if you must know, but you could be making me forget it if you weren’t such an—”
The breath hurtled out of me as Lukas launched himself at me and grabbed the back o
f my head, pressing his mouth to mine. The kiss was as angry as it was hungry, his tongue thrusting and grabbing at mine, sucking it in, his teeth hard against my lips. His body pushed me back toward the bed, and I tumbled beneath him, my fingers snaking through his hair despite the sting, breathing in through my nose in a desperate inhalation as his weight pressed down on me, every muscle taut against mine, his cock hard as petrified wood against the soft flesh between my legs.
Lukas tore his mouth away at last, breathing raggedly as he stared down into my eyes. “Well? Do you remember him?”
“Who?” I gasped before he descended on me once more.
* * * * *
I did nap, eventually, curled half-naked and utterly spent against his bare chest. Luckily, he’d had the good sense to lock my door; Konstantin woke us with insistent knocking, wanting to know if we were done “arguing”.
“We have to be careful,” Lukas murmured against my hair after sending Konstantin back to his room with an assurance that he’d persuaded me to stay. “I don’t want to confuse him. We need to take things slow, give him time to adjust to his loss.”
“And yours,” I said, stroking my fingers over his arm. “I don’t expect you to just magically be over her. Even if you were over her. You know?”
“Yeah.” He nodded. “I know.”
* * * * *
In the coming days, Cole returned to San Francisco with his family to recuperate, given enough of the story to satisfy him—I figured he didn’t need to know I was a freaking tree spirit—while I moved in with Lumi and Freyr for a while to give Lukas space and time to grieve with his son, but near enough that Konstantin didn’t feel I’d abandoned him.
The lightkeeper’s cottage had been destroyed in the flames, though the scent of charred wood lingered long afterward. Only the tower, made of stone, survived, and in the compartment beneath the burned-out floor of the lens housing, Lukas recovered my mother’s remains. We buried them at the foot of her tree, and in the spring, a sprig of green was growing from the wood we’d thought dead. My mother’s spirit finally had a home.
And I, the child of fire, had finally found my own.
About the Author
Jane Kindred is the author of epic fantasy series The House of Arkhangel’sk, Demons of Elysium and Looking Glass Gods. She spent her formative years ruining her eyes reading romance novels in the Tucson sun and watching Star Trek marathons in the dark. She now writes to the sound of San Francisco foghorns while two cats slowly but surely edge her off the side of the bed.
You can find Jane on her Twitter account and Facebook page—both of which are aptly named “janekindred”—and her website, www.janekindred.com.
Look for these titles by Jane Kindred
Now Available:
Demons of Elysium
Prince of Tricks
King of Thieves
Master of the Game
Looking Glass Gods
Idol of Bone
Idol of Blood
Idol of Glass
The Lost Coast
Coming Soon:
The Water Thief
Don’t miss these other titles by Jane Kindred
One stranger seeks to claim her heart…another is destined to destroy her.
Looking Glass Gods, Book 1
Ra. Just two letters. Barely a breath. When she stumbles into the frozen Haethfalt highlands, her name is all she has—the last remnant of a past she’s managed to keep hidden, even from herself. Her magic, however, isn’t so easy to conceal—magic that’s the province of the Meer, an illicit race to which she can’t possibly belong.
The eccentric carpenter who takes her in provides a welcome distraction from the puzzle of herself. Though Jak refuses to identify as either male or female, the unmistakable spark of desire between them leaves Ra determined to find out what lies beneath the enigmatic exterior.
But more dangerous secrets are brewing underneath the wintry moors. Jak’s closest friend, Ahr, is haunted by his own unspeakable past. Bounty hunters seeking fugitive Meer refuse to leave him in peace.
Harboring feelings for both Ra and Ahr, Jak nonetheless struggles to keep them apart. Because like the sun and the moon coming together, their inevitable reunion has the potential to destroy Jak’s whole world.
Warning: Shape-shifting? That’s so last millennium. Reincarnation? Yawn. Get ready for a gender-bending fantasy that will fire your imagination and haunt your dreams.
When desire rises, angels will fall. One, by one, by one…
Demons of Elysium, Book 1
Over the past century, Belphagor has made a name for himself in Heaven’s Demon District as a cardsharp, thief, and charming rogue.
Though the airspirit is content with his own company, he enjoys applying the sweet sting of discipline to a willing backside. Angel, demon, even the occasional human. He’s not particular. Until a hotheaded young firespirit steals his purse—and his heart. Now he’s not sure who owns whom.
A former rent boy and cutpurse from the streets of Raqia, Vasily has never felt safer than in the arms—and at the feet—of the Prince of Tricks. He’s just not sure if Belphagor returns those feelings. There’s only one way to find out, but using a handsome, angelic duke to stir Belphagor’s jealousy backfires on them both.
When the duke frames Vasily for an attempted assassination as part of a revolutionary conspiracy, Belphagor will do whatever it takes to clear his boy’s name and expose the real traitor. Because for the first time in his life, the Prince of Tricks has something to lose.
Warning: Contains erotic sex: m/m, m/m/m, m/m/m/m…oh hell. Let’s just say “mmmmmm!” and be done with it. Also one m/f scene. Smart discipline meted out with a great deal of love and charm. Erotic sex acts requiring copious amounts of elbow grease.
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This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
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The Lost Coast
Copyright © 2015 by Jane Kindred
ISBN: 978-1-61923-026-2
Edited by Linda Ingmanson
Cover by Kanaxa
All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: December 2015
www.samhainpublishing.com
