“That’s wonderful.” Lucy hugged him and thanked him several times. He told her he wasn’t finished. “That is more than enough. I know some of the family has this already, but it’s nice to know we’ll all be around for a long time.”
“Yes, but even with all the life in the world, there will still be issues. And that is the second part of my gift to you. I wish for you all to have all that I am. I am keeping my home and the contents for now, but should anything untoward happen to me, I’d like to think you’d make good use of it, as you will this money I have given you today.” Lucy looked at Demi, then back at Alan. Even she didn’t understand what that was. “I have given Alden and Cindy McCray, as well as their six sons, my finances, save what is in the house. Divided equally between the seven of you so that you’d not have to ever worry about money again. You can use it for whatever you wish, but I know you’ll be using it for the good of the world.”
“We don’t worry about money now, Alan.” He said he understood that, but he had no more use for money than he did a steak dinner. “I don’t understand. You’re not going to leave us, are you? I wouldn’t be at all happy with you if that is your reason for doing this.”
“No. I have no intentions of leaving you—ever, if you’ll have me. No. I have more than enough money in my home that I don’t have to worry about that either. However, what does an old vampire need that he cannot get on his own?” He kissed Lucy on the cheek. “You have, in one swift move, given me more than anyone has ever given me before. A purpose. A life.”
Gaea stood up when Alan sat down.
“Wait. I don’t understand.” Ian looked around the room as the beautiful woman sat back down. “What do you mean, you’ve given us your all? Your money? Or magic? Either one of those seems to be something you’d need in your coming days. And I don’t want you to leave us any more than anyone in this room does. What exactly are you meaning by your all?”
Alan laughed and put out his hand. When Ian took it, the room brightened up with the power that was there. As soon as he was able to release his hand, Ian fell backward. Looking more dazed than hurt, he told them he was fine. Lucy asked Alan what he’d done.
“I gave him what he wanted. The exact accounting of what I have gifted you.” Ian was nodding, his face a little paler than she thought it should have been for a simple transfer of information. That made Demi laugh. “Would anyone else like to know what he knows?”
Everyone moved back, putting their hands behind them as they shook their heads. It would have been funny if not so serious. Ian promised he’d let them know verbally if they needed information. Laughing, Alan sat down beside Ian but didn’t touch him again. Gaea stood again and smiled at them all.
“Mine isn’t a gift, but a reward for the help in the killing of Hollie.” She sat down and stood up again. “You have it. It’s been, as with Alan’s gift, given to each of you. Unlimited use of white magic that will do more for you than you’ve ever desired before. Also, you have immortality against everything now. Even Alan. You will find your reward from Alan in the form of a large chest at each of your homes.”
That was it, apparently, because when she sat back down, everyone was called to dinner. This was the strangest day she’d ever had, she thought. Immortality for all of them? Magic out the ass? Whatever was going on, she wondered if they’d all get it or just the sons. Not that the money mattered, but she wanted to be around as long as Lucian would be.
“Everyone that comes to this family, by heart or body, will have what has been given to them by me. Even the things you have been given before, it too will be a part of the McCray legacy.” She asked Gaea about the people they didn’t want to have it. “Then they shan’t. You will all be able to decide who will be here forever for you and those who will not. If you’re speaking of the sister of Joey, then no, she will not be an immortal. Not unless things change. Which I’m not sure will. There are some things even I cannot see well enough to make a judgment call on them.”
They were all surrounding the table, filling plates as large bowls came around. Demi had a moment to realize there might not be enough food when the bowl of corn on the cob was passed to Lucian. It was then she could see that it was refilling itself. Looking across the table to see if anyone else had noticed, she could see that Joey had. She looked at her with astonishment written all over her face.
“You learn to roll with it after a while.” Nodding, the bowl in her hand was passed to Pierce. He was too busy talking to his dad to see what was literally right in front of him. “I take it this is all new to you as well?”
“Yes. I mean, we’ve only been staying here since Thursday night. The woman in the kitchen said she’d be able to whip something up at a moment’s notice. I didn’t know she meant magically.” Demi told her it might well be her doing it. “No. Not today. I mean, it might be, but today I’m blaming it squarely on the cook. This is me easing into this. By the way, I have a lot of dresses, like dressy dresses, at home that I’ve designed over the years. Sometimes I have to make something so totally out of my comfort range in order to do work with the genre I do. If you or the other women would like them, you’re more than welcome to them. In fact, anything in my line, it’s yours. I can even do alterations if they need it.”
“Really?” Joey nodded as she passed the next platter to her right. “I have to admit, I’d never heard of you before Cybill told me who you were. I don’t exactly go out all that much where I have to dress up, and I think that is what I was thinking about when I thought of a designer. Someone who does those outlandish outfits I see on magazine covers.”
“I worked for one of the high end designers when I first started out. The clothing wasn’t as bad as I’ve seen, but it really didn’t inspire me to go out and purchase it. When I left that firm, I was told I’d never make it on my own designing for the everyday woman. While a little more expensive than things you can pick up at a department store, they’re very well made and sturdy. I have people passing down their clothing to their children.” She asked her about the dolls and the scraps of material. “I think that was when I discovered I wanted to get colors together that most people wouldn’t dream of. My grannie was forever making quilts, and she’d give me the scraps she didn’t use. My dolls had the most colorful clothing ever conceived.”
“The color of her pants are pumpkin pie, of all things.” Demi told Lauren she didn’t think of pie when she saw them. “Me either. But it works with a great many other colors I love. Purple is big right now, but it looks good with blues and reds. While I like bold statement colors together, Joey likes earth tones and calming colors. I think that is why we work so well together on this.”
They talked about a lot of different things while eating. When the men were finished, they stood to clear the table while the women didn’t move. Demi liked this. The women of the house to be able to linger at the table while the men usually went into the living room or outside. She was just sipping her tea when she heard a phone ringing in the house. Whoever it was for, Demi hoped no one would be called away. This was just too lovely of a thing to give up right now.
“Pierce and I were talking about me moving my business here. It wouldn’t be a large undertaking, I’m thinking. Mostly it’s bolts of material, which can be heavy, as well as a few cutting tables. The people I have working for me now are set to retire or not move if I were to go. Just Harvey. He’s willing to work anywhere for me, he told me.” Mel told Joey of the three buildings in the downtown area she thought would make a good storefront for her. “I’ve never sold direct before. Just online. That would be an entirely new concept for me.”
“We’ll help you. And I’m sure you have your first employees with Cybill and the other girls. They have really enjoyed what you brought them.” Joey said she’d gotten a lot of ideas from them as well. “Good. I’m so glad Pierce found you. As I think it has been pointed out to you before, you’re going to be a good fit with us.
”
“Right now, I’m not sure what that might mean. But as you said, we’ll roll with it.” She looked in the direction of the living room, where the men were screaming at a game on the television. “I feel like I have loved him forever. Does that make sense? We just came together like we were meant to be. He calms me.”
“You more than likely calm him as well.” Joey nodded and smiled at her. Demi thought it was a beautiful smile and couldn’t help but smile back at her. “I like you, Joey. I do hope we have a lot of fun in the years to come.”
“I like you too. You’re just like Pierce said you were.” She wanted to ask her what he’d said but didn’t when she laughed. “It’s all good. All of the things he’d said about you guys. I believe he’s afraid of you too. More so his mom.”
They talked and laughed for hours, moving from the table to the parlor-like room next to the living room. Once in a while, one of the men would come in, grab a kiss, ask them if they needed anything, then go back. This was, Demi thought, one of the most enjoyable evenings she’d spent with this family.
The fact was that it could have been stressful, talking about Hightower and his plans for Becky. They could have also discussed Margie and the trouble she was going to be up against soon. But no one brought any of it up. No one seemed inclined, as she was not, to bring any negativity to the dinner and evening they were all enjoying. Demi thought they needed to do this more often. Leave the day outside of their family time together. It made for a very fun night out.
~*~
While she sat in the jail cell pondering her life, Margie wondered why things kept happening to her that were out of her control. Unlike her sister—Joey had always had things fall in her lap, and she’d be able to make something of herself. She had worked really hard at her job, but so had Margie. Getting Peter to marry her had been all she’d thought of since she’d been a little girl.
Margie wasn’t unaware of the fact that Peter was old enough to be her father—even her grandfather, she supposed. The age difference never bothered her. He was just a mature man that needed someone younger around him all the time. At least up until recently—that was what she’d been telling herself. Lying on the cot, she looked up at the ceiling and wondered, not for the first time, how they got all those holes in each of the tiles up there without the thing falling apart.
Peter had taken her under his wing when she was twelve. Her father had died by then. Cancer had taken him away from her even though she’d begged him to get better. Her dad had been her everything, and she his world. Then he’d died and left her what she had thought of as a sea of uncertainties. Of things left undone. Not that she understood then what that meant, but it was the feeling she’d gotten upon his death.
Peter seemed to understand her better than anyone else had. The first time Peter had shown her any attention was at her dad’s funeral. He’d taken her in the kitchen and talked to her while she ate a large piece of cake. Feeling really sleepy afterwards, she’d woken up in her bed naked. To this day, she had no idea what she’d done to get herself like that but was too ashamed to ask anyone. After that day, Peter would seek her out after school. Sometimes he’d even take her out for the day so they could be together.
Of course, her mom never noticed or cared enough to notice that she was getting out of class more and more. Mom had taken it hard when Dad died. So did Joey. But no one had rescued them as Peter did her. He’d not only taken her places they enjoyed going to, but he showed her all kinds of things, sexual things, that made her feel so adult with him.
She knew on a lot of levels it was wrong. But he was her hero, her lover, and the best man she’d ever been around, including her dad. Again, up until just recently. Thinking about what the voice had told her, she wondered if she could ask her something that had been bothering her. When she felt the small nudge at her mind, she turned to see who had poked her. There wasn’t anyone there.
I’m here to answer anything you want. But you need to be aware that I don’t hold back. I’m going to tell you the truth, and that’s all. I don’t sugarcoat anything when I’m being asked direct questions. Got it? She told her she did. Also, before someone thinks you’re nuttier than a fruit cake, you don’t have to speak out loud to talk to me. Just answer me in your mind as you would a thought.
Is he really gay? Instead of giving her an answer, she showed her Peter having sex with two men in the bed he’d shared with her. How long ago was this? I mean, he could have just been experimenting, right?
This is going on right now. And he’s been experimenting, as you called it since he was about thirteen. He also has very violent sex. I know the two of you have as well, but it’s nothing compared to what he does when he’s pissed off. He’s killed at least three people that I’m aware of since he’s been doing this. Tears fell down Margie’s cheeks, but she didn’t wipe them away. What would be the point in telling this woman she was hurt by it all? I know you killed Rebecca. What I want to know is, did he tell you to do it?
Not in words so much, but he said it would pave the way for the two of us getting together. I have done this before. I’m sure you know that. She said she did. You know a great deal about me and Peter. Why is he still out and about when I’m wasting away here in a dank jail cell?
Because of you, he’s not done anything wrong. She thought about that and realized he’d said that to her before. Yes, I’m aware of him telling you that you’d not go to prison if you were caught killing someone. That’s not true—you know that, don’t you?
I’m not a child anymore, so I guess I would have to go now. Meadow told her even back then, she’d have gone to prison. I’m a mess, aren’t I?
As she started thinking of all the fucking shit she’d put up with over the years, the way he’d dangled a carrot in front of her to get her to do things for him, Margie just wanted to kill herself. Rather than face serious jail time, she knew she would rather die.
Look. I’m going to make some changes to your ordeal there. But you need to do something for me. It will go a long way in figuring out for both of us what Peter’s plans are for you. She said she wanted to get out. Right now, that’s not possible. Peter is pressing charges, and you did try and burn his home down. Think of it this way, Margie—you’re safe where you are. No one can accuse you of any wrongdoing while you’re there.
What is it you want me to do? I’ll do most anything to get things moving here. I never thought I’d say this, but I hate myself. I hate everything about me. Meadow didn’t say anything for several moments, and she thought she’d left her. Meadow?
I’m here. I’m looking into things for a second here. All right. A cop is going to come to you to offer you a phone call. I want you to call Peter and ask him if he’s going to bail you out of jail. All right? Margie asked her what was that going to do when she got out. We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. If we do.
You don’t think he’s going to do it, do you? No answer was telling her Meadow didn’t think he would.
The officer showed up and asked her if she wanted to make a phone call. Telling him she did, she followed him down the hallway toward the little office to her right. Calling Peter, she heard him answer and started to cry. “Will you please come and bail me out of here? I don’t like it. There isn’t the kind of food that I like, and I’m sleeping on a cot that no telling how many people have slept in. Please?”
“No.” She’d known on some level that was what he was going to say, but it still crushed something deep inside of her. “You tried to burn me out, Margie. I mean, what would I have done if you’d succeeded? No. I like you in jail. If I have a need for you, then I might consider it. But for now, you should think about your actions and what it would have done to the two of us had you been able to get things going to the point of no return.”
“Can’t you just use some of the money you have stashed away to get me out? I’ll stay away until you need me.” He started c
ursing, then asked her what sort of phone she was using. “The payphone. It says right here they’re not recording anything on this device. Why do you ask?”
“I don’t want anyone to know I have that money, Margie. That’s going to be my getting out of jail run money.” She knew that too. That was why she’d lied to him. The laminated sign on the table where she was sitting specifically told her this phone would be recorded, and by using it with this knowledge, the user was agreeing to the terms of it being used against her. She asked him if she was going to be going with him. “Yes. Of course. Haven’t you always been my best girl? I mean, whatever would I do if you didn’t come with me? No, you just stay where you are, and I’ll work on something on my end here. But in the meantime, you have to learn your place, Margie. You can’t just burn my home down when I’m inside when you get into a snit. I’ll talk to you in a couple of days. But I’d not expect anything different right now. You’ve got to learn to behave.”
Putting the phone down, she sat there for several minutes just thinking about what he’d said to her. And also the things he’d not. Peter didn’t want her anymore. Not only that but she only just realized that he was still treating her like that child she’d been when he’d taken her to his home. A child.
The door opened behind her, and she started to ask for a few more minutes. Instead, the officer that had brought her to this room laid a tray in front of her and told her she had an hour to eat. Taking the tin lid off the dinner plate, she cried at what was there—her favorites.
You will get one of these meals a day brought to you. Nothing that the other patrons are getting. Let me know if you’d rather have it for dinner or lunch. I can make arrangements to have bottled water brought to you as well. I’m sorry about what Peter is doing to you. It hadn’t even occurred to her that Peter might have been the one that had sent it. Meadow was doing just what she had said she would.
Pierce: McCray Bruin Bear Shifter Romance Page 8
