Morgan ground out the butt and lit another one. “I was so upset and they really didn’t seem to care. Or maybe they did and I was too messed up to realize it. Either way, I kind of lost myself. I wasn’t an easy kid to deal with after that. I ditched school, drank, smoked a lot of weed, hung out with all of the wrong people. I was only there for six months before they’d had enough.
“Then I was sent to the Grissoms.” The fond memories of them brought a small feeling of warmth. “They were great. I spent the next four months with them and they helped to put the pieces of me back together. As good as they were, I couldn’t stay there.
“I spent the next three months with a new set of foster parents. They tried; I have to honestly say that. They put up with more crap than they should have, I’m sure. It didn’t help that my memories and powers started showing up. My mother had been very open about what might happen if we were like her. Knowing what was happening didn’t help. I suddenly had secrets I couldn’t tell anyone about. If I’d stayed with the Grissoms, the pieces they put back together might have stayed mended through it. Might have healed. But I didn’t stay and the pieces didn’t either.”
She paused while she took a couple more drags. “I changed foster homes about every three months after that. Nothing permanent, always moving. Then I went to the Parkers.”
Morgan’s lifted the cigarette to her mouth with a trembling hand. These memories were hard to face and she wasn’t sure if she could venture into the dark place where they resided. Morgan struggled to find the words to open it all up again. “It was…terrible.”
When she didn’t say anything more and the silence had grown heavy, Lucian finally broke it. “Are they what you were dreaming about?”
A shiver ran through her and she remained quiet. The walls built around those memories were solid for a reason. To take them down would make her more vulnerable than she ever wanted to be again. “It…I…”
Lucian held his hand up to stop her. “Don’t. If it hurts as much as your expression says it does to go there right now, then don’t. I won’t push. When and if you are ever ready, I’m here.”
Relief washed through Morgan so intense it almost made her weak in the legs. Gratitude was close on its heels along with shame. So determined to do this and, in the end, she chickened out. She grimaced. “I’m sorry I punched you.”
“I have to admit, you know how to hit.” He chuckled and rubbed his jaw. “Where did you learn that or is that something you’d rather not talk about right now?”
“Jake taught me,” Morgan said with a grin.
“You’re pretty close with him.”
Morgan nodded and took the final drag off her cigarette before grinding it out. “Yeah. He’s a really good guy. Without him, I would probably be dead.”
“I’m glad you have him then.”
“So am I.” She shoved the lighter in her pocket and sat on the low wall that enclosed the patio.
Morgan stared at the ground and for a few minutes they sat in silence. Unlike before, it was a comfortable sort. She may not have been able to tell him all about her past, but there was something else she could tell him. Something she really needed to since it would concern him eventually. “The demons in the city, they’re after me personally.”
His head jerked up, eyes suddenly hard. “How do you know this?”
“They, uh…they told me.”
“Told you?” He had gone perfectly still.
“Yeah. They first mentioned it right after you left the tower and a bunch attacked. The one the other night, when I had you take Lucy, was more specific. And then again last night.”
“Morgan, demons rarely speak to any outside the Underworld unless they’re in possession of a human. When they do speak, especially to a channel, it’s because they’re trying to sway you. Newer channels, those with only a couple of lives under their belts like you, are often their targets.”
“I kind of figured that out when one of them started chatting about joining with some demon named Kalona and how if I didn’t, this Kalona would rip my heart out.”
“Any idea why the Kalona would be interested in you?”
Morgan shrugged. “Not really. I don’t even know who he is.”
“He’s an upper-level demon set loose and then trapped again by a Cherokee shaman who was also a channel.” Lucian frowned. “He was set loose by swaying that woman.”
“The demons keep calling me Inola.” Morgan said, her mind shuddering away from the idea of a channel turning bad. “And the other night one called me, ‘little black fox.’ It was my name in my first life. I have no idea why they use it now. Even in my second life, I was Morgan. When the demon-possessed confronted me in the alley, it forced a memory to the surface of my death in my first life. It’s the only memory I’ve had of that life except for a few fuzzy images of my mother in a white dress.”
“There has to be something to the name Inola.” He sighed and ran a hand over his face, frustration clear in his expression. “We’ll figure it out. I’m glad you told me about it. If they’re after you specifically, we’re going to have to be extra careful about everything and you’ll need to stay inside as much as possible.”
“Whoa, slow down there.” Morgan jumped to her feet and began to pace again. His talk of her staying inside sent agitation crawling through her. She gnawed at her thumbnail, tearing a bit off and spitting it on the ground. “I’m not used to staying in one place, much less inside a lot.”
Something akin to panic washed over her. Her heart rate picked up. If he expected her to sit all cooped up until this Kalona thing was figured out then he had a few screws loose. She dug a cigarette out and lit it, taking a long drag off it.
“Morgan,” Lucian’s tone was low and soothing. “I’m not suggesting you never go anywhere. Calm down. I can see asking something like that of you would be too much. I will ask that you at least let me know when you’re leaving and where you’re going. And that you keep your phone on you. Please. It will make it faster and easier to help you should there be need.”
“You won’t try to stop me from leaving.” She eyed him warily. Yeah, she could kick some serious ass, but holding her own against a dark angel? Not likely. They were faster and stronger than a demon.
“No, I won’t. You’re a channel, not my prisoner nor subject to my commands as you so eloquently told me when we first met.”
Morgan snorted, a measure of relief seeping in. Another deep drag helped calm her further. She wasn’t trapped. He wasn’t going to try and hold her here like Arabrim would have. What was with her emotions? Why was it so easy to let Lucian see the things that upset her? He was breaking down her barriers and he wasn’t even doing anything.
The sudden longing for the park, the tower, her preferred sleeping places, and half-frozen food from dumpsters overwhelmed her. It wasn’t really those things she missed and needed right then. It was the familiarity. The comfort of her normal. Damn, she was so screwed up. With a sigh, she flopped down in one of the patio chairs and took another drag.
She glanced at Lucian. He sat quietly, watching her. Uncomfortable under his gaze she looked away. “So where do we start with this Kalona stuff?”
“If the Kalona is here then we start with the Denver area. See what we can find that might be drawing him here.”
Still restless, her knee bounced up and down as Morgan took another drag. “What exactly is this Kalona?”
“He’s a very strong upper-level demon tied to the Cherokee tribe for reasons unknown to us. Most upper-levels aren’t fixed to any one belief, they don’t need to be. Why the Kalona is…” He shrugged. “It might be best to see if I can contact any dark angels who might have a channel in the Cherokee Nation.”
“And if there isn’t one of those?” She finally relaxed enough to lean back.
Lucian sighed. “Then we find a shaman.”
“A shaman?” She raised an eyebrow as she stared at him in disbelief. “They still have shamans and believe in Native Am
erican voodoo?”
“Don’t be so quick to dismiss it. Just like witchcraft and actual voodoo, what a shaman can do isn’t just make-believe.”
“If you say so.” She ground out the cigarette then stood. “I’m going back into the city in a few days to see Jake. Just because I’m here now doesn’t mean I’m going to forget him.”
Lucian nodded. “I wouldn’t expect you to forget him.”
“Well, just so long as you understand.” She chewed her lower lip for a minute.
“What?”
“Huh?” Morgan’s gaze flashed to Lucian’s face.
“I can tell you want to ask something, what?”
“I…okay,” Morgan sighed. “I’m not one to ask for things and I really appreciate the sweats, but I need more than just sweats and my jeans are getting pretty ratty.”
He frowned. “Morgan, if you need or want something, you don’t have to ask. What’s mine is yours.”
Sure it was, until he died and she lost everything and ended up on the street again. “Thanks.”
Lucian rose to his feet. “Would you like me to go with you, or Isobel?”
Ugh, neither if she had a choice. Isobel would get carried away and Lucian would be too distracting. “Damien, if he’ll go.”
“If that’s what you want.” Confusion and relief chased each other across his face before his expression settled into something neutral.
Did it bother him that she didn’t want him with her? Or would he be happy to be away from her for a while? A small part of her heart cried at the idea of him wanting to be away from her. The rest of her told it to shut up.
When Morgan went inside, he followed and said, “Tell me about yourself.”
Morgan raised an eyebrow. “There’s nothing to tell.”
Lucian grabbed a chair from the table, spun it around and sat in it with his arms resting on the back. “I’m sure there’s more to you than the fact you aren’t a picky eater and prefer jeans over sweats.”
She shrugged and settled into one of the other chairs. “Nothing of interest.”
“What are your favorites?”
“Favorites?”
“The things you like most,” Lucian said as his gaze roamed over her face.
Morgan shifted slightly under the close scrutiny. Why did he care what she liked? “The things I like most? Um… Warmth is a good one. And hot showers. Clean underwear, that one is completely undervalued by the rest of the population.”
“Sounds like you have your priorities straight,” Lucian chuckled. “What about t.v. and movies? Any favorites there?”
“I haven’t had much chance to watch either one in some time.”
He nodded. “When you did, was there anything?”
Morgan snorted. “My Little Pony.”
“What?” Lucian raised his brows; it certainly wasn’t an answer he was expecting.
“Last fall there was a pawnshop owner whose six-year-old daughter, Alisa, used to be dropped off with him twice a week at three in the afternoon. The pawnshop didn’t close until eight. One day, he caught me digging through his trashcan and after grilling me about possible drug use, offered to pay me twenty bucks to watch Alisa in the back office and keep her entertained those two days.”
Morgan chuckled at the memory of the little girl. She’d been a lot of fun to hang around with. Having been through numerous foster homes, Morgan was no stranger to much younger, temporary siblings so it had been easy to get along with Alisa. “Anyway, she was a MLP devotee. I watched a lot of it with her and actually kind of liked it.”
“Aren’t you a little old to like My Little Pony?” Lucian teased.
“According to Alisa,” Morgan stood up and struck a regal pose, pointed at him and said with an imperious tone, “nobody is too old for Friendship Is Magic.”
Lucian burst out laughing, noting as Morgan sat back down that she was even more beautiful when she smiled. “I’m guessing that’s how Alisa said it?”
“Exactly like that.” Morgan laughed softly at the memory.
“Who is your favorite pony?”
“Rainbow Dash,” Morgan said without hesitation. “I like her spunk and her loyalty.”
“Hmmm,” Lucian leaned back and gave her a considering look. “I would have pegged you as more of an Apple Jack kind of woman.”
“Naw. I mean, I liked her, but—” Morgan narrowed her eyes at him. “Wait, how do you know the names of the ponies?”
“I briefly watched over a channel with a young daughter last year before I met up with Isobel and Damien. I may have seen a few episodes.”
“Aren’t you a little old for My Little Pony?”
Lucian shrugged. “Her daughter controlled the t.v. with the ruthless hand of a miniature dictator. Besides, it was cute.”
Morgan chuckled again as she tried to envision this blond, god-like creature sitting on a couch somewhere with a little girl telling him he was going to watch My Little Pony. And then she wished she hadn’t because the picture it painted made her heart feel things it was better off not feeling.
She stood. “I think I’ll spend some time outside with Lucy.”
Lucian nodded and pulled out his phone, relieved that she wanted time alone. Sitting there talking to her about the absurd subject of Ponies made him like her too much. “I’ll start contacting some others; see if any are attached to anyone in the Cherokee Nation.”
Morgan dug her cigarettes out of her pocket and slipped out the door, relieved to have some space between them. It was too easy to like Lucian. Too easy to relax in his presence and too easy for her body to forget that it needed to stay away from him, especially when he laughed.
MORGAN SLID INTO the leather passenger seat of the comfortable black car. After nearly a month spent at Lucian’s house, she was more than ready for a break. Isobel had helped by coming over a few times, and she’d been to see Jake twice. Still, it grew harder with each day to be in the same room with Lucian even though a part of her really wanted to be closer both physically and emotionally.
They had managed to avoid touching each other, and to avoid the subject of her past, both of which she was grateful for. Even so, it wasn’t like they could be in the same house without talking and they’d spent too much time doing that. It was too easy for Lucian to coax her into conversation and the more they talked, the more she learned of him and his past lives, the more she respected him and maybe…no. She was not going to care for him and that was it. Damn him. Her mood soured and she glanced at the man waiting patiently in the driver’s seat.
Damien raised an eyebrow when she looked at him. “Shopping?”
“Look, I promise not to be a pain in the ass. I don’t go all girly crazy over racks of clothes. I just want a couple pairs of jeans and maybe a new pair of boots okay?”
“No problem.” He shifted the car into reverse and backed out of the driveway.
As soon as they were on the road, he glanced over at her. “So why not Isobel or Lucian?”
“Isobel would go crazy and insist I get an entire wardrobe.” She sighed and looked out the window. “And Lucian is…”
“Is what?”
“I don’t know.” She shoved a hand through her hair. “I just needed to get away for a little bit.”
Damien turned onto the main road. “If that’s what you need.”
Morgan suppressed a sigh of relief, glad he wasn’t going to push the subject. Riding with Damien was easy, comfortable. Like Arabrim, he was a friend. And also like Arabrim, he didn’t stir all kinds of crazy feelings in her.
It wasn’t long before they pulled into the parking lot of an outlet store. She smiled as she stepped out of the car. A simple outlet store was exactly what she needed. Damien knew her well enough from their time spent together before Arabrim’s death to know she hated malls. Too many people. Outside in the air it wasn’t so bad.
Even the outlet store would be a problem if it wasn’t the middle of the morning and so fairly quiet. The parking lot didn’t
hold many cars. When they walked in, the store was mostly empty. Morgan breathed a sigh of relief, passed the racks filled with jeans that looked like they’d been attacked by a Bedazzler, and headed toward the shelves in the back. Hopefully, there would be unadorned denim back here.
She found her size and pulled a pair down, shaking them out. Just normal stitching. The universe must like her today or something. Morgan glanced at Damien who stood with his arms crossed leaning against the wall a few feet away and almost laughed. He looked so out of place. More like a bodyguard than a shopper, which technically he was. Still, did he have to appear that obvious?
“I’m going to try these on. It won’t take me long.”
He nodded and she walked into the dressing room. After latching the door, she kicked off her broken down boots and pulled off her sweats. The jeans slid over her skin, surprisingly smooth and soft for brand new. They fit perfect, almost like they were made just for her.
Morgan turned to get a better look in the three in mirrors. The jeans hugged the curve of her butt and hips and still fit around her narrower waist. At least there wasn’t an annoying gap at the back of her waist. She examined herself critically. Still too thin, but she was already filling out a bit now that she had steady access to food.
After getting back into her own clothes she walked back to the shelves and grabbed four more pairs of that size. It didn’t take long to find a few more t-shirts, and a pair of black, military tactical style boots to replace her old ones.
As they walked out of the store, Damien said, “I think this was the fastest shopping trip I’ve ever been on.”
Morgan laughed. “I told you it wouldn’t take me long.”
“So you did.” He unlocked the car and slid in behind the steering wheel. “You up for some lunch?”
“Don’t you have to get back?”
“Isobel can keep Lucian company a while longer and the way you said you needed a break earlier led to me to think you might not be ready to go back yet.”
She wasn’t ready. Being in the same room, the same house, as Lucian set her off balance. He was too much. Too nice, too patient, too unbelievably sexy. Where the hell had that last thought come from? Morgan yanked the seatbelt across her body and shoved the buckle into the snap with more force than necessary.
Bound by Legend: A Bound Novel Page 10
