by RJ Blain
“I knew them,” the blond-haired man said without looking up at me.
“It was over fast,” I said, a little guilty over my matter-of-fact attitude. “He didn’t hurt for long.”
All three of them stared at me with puzzled expressions. I held my hands up in the universal gesture of surrender. “I didn’t kill him.”
I hadn’t been able to save him, either.
“This is Fredrick,” Richard said, gathering up the photos and stuffing them into one of the folders. “He’s the doctor I was telling you about.”
“Nicole,” I said, holding out my right hand so he could see the scabbed-over gashes. “Look, it’s not even bleeding anymore.”
“Those are going to leave scars I’m afraid,” Fredrick said, hissing a little in sympathy. “What did you do? It looks like you tried to shatter a window with your fist.
I cringed. “The window won.”
“They usually do. I think you can get away with butterflies if you take it easy on your hand for at least a few days. They don’t look nearly as bad as you led me to believe, Richard.” Fredrick made a disapproving clucking noise with his tongue, rose from the table, and went to the foyer, where he picked up a tackle box. I tilted my head to the side as he put it on the table and open it up.
It was a tackle box, but instead of carrying fishing gear, it held medical supplies—lots of medical supplies. Without wasting any time, Fredrick pulled out several rolls of tape and bandages, along with some ointments. “What did you do to your arm? Those are older.”
“Dog bite,” I replied.
“You have the worst luck, don’t you?”
“Something like that. You know what they say: anything that can possibly go wrong, does. Story of my life.”
“Murphy’s law,” Fredrick said before chuckling. “This might hurt a bit, Nicole.”
“I can handle it, though I’m not sure I want to bleed all over the table.”
“You won’t bleed much. I thought the gashes were wider. They look deep, but they haven’t spread much. If I stitch, the scars will be even larger than if I just leave it alone.”
I sat down at the table and held my hand out. “Do your worst, Doc.”
Fredrick chuckled. “It’s a refreshing change to meet a patient who doesn’t try to bite my head off for helping.”
Liking the young doctor was easy. I relaxed despite knowing he was about to inflict pain on me. “You’re not trying to stick a needle in me. As far as I’m concerned, you’re my new best friend.”
True to his word, Fredrick hurt me while cleaning and bandaging my injuries. I sat through it stiff-backed and silent. When he was finished, he packed up most of the kit, leaving out a roll of the thin tape and bandages. “You’ll need to wrap it again if it gets wet. If it gets infected, go to your doctor. But so far so good. Take it easy for a while until it heals.”
“This’ll make walking the dogs complicated,” I muttered. “Richard, you’re sure they’re fine? The dogs?”
“They’re fine. Don’t worry about them. I have some friends in town watching them.” Drumming his fingers against the table, Richard stared down at the folders. His expression was thoughtful.
“I called your agent and told him you had a family affair,” Alex said when Richard didn’t speak. “I thought you’d like not having to answer as many questions when you get back.”
“You spoke to my agent,” I stated, narrowing my eyes at Alex, wondering how he had gotten Dominic’s number. “And told him what?”
“That you were away on a family matter,” Alex replied.
I considered his response—and his voice. Then I thought on the past, from Scott’s death up until I had been kidnapped. I sucked in a breath through my teeth—I had forgotten about the caller who had been looking for me, for Nicolina Desmond.
Could it have been Alex or Richard?
The thought scared me, but I forced myself to hide my fear. I had been so ready to trust them because they had seemed nice, and they hadn’t hesitated to help me. They had said they wanted to protect me, and I wanted to believe it. They hadn’t threatened me.
In my blatant stupidity, I hadn’t taken the time to think about why they wanted me. I hadn’t wanted to care. I had wanted away and to be safe. They had provided me with that.
I collected myself and forced a jovial mask for them. I did my best to mimic the tone Dominic used when he was suspicious or angry. “To which he probably replied, ‘What family? Who are you? If you know Nicole’s family, why hasn’t she told me about you?’”
To my surprise, Alex laughed. “You’re like a mockingbird. Yes, he sounded just like that. It took some convincing, but he eventually backed down.”
Dominic had backed down? Burning alive with curiosity, I stared at Alex, but he didn’t elaborate. I wanted to ask, but I decided to bide my time. I had told Dominic I didn’t have any family. So why had he believed Alex?
“Since my work here is done, gentlemen, I’ll be off,” Fredrick said, heading for the door. “Call me if there are any problems. You know my number.”
I waited until the young, blond-haired doctor was out the door before I turned to Richard. With my chin resting in the palm of my left hand and my elbow on the tabletop, I stared at him. Then, I said, “Say my name.”
“Nicole,” he said obediently, his expression confused and his tone uncertain. My name rumbled in Richard’s chest. I thought about the mystery caller and decided it hadn’t been Richard. His voice was far too deep. Turning my attention to Alex, I stared at him for a long moment.
“Say my name,” I ordered.
“Nicole?” Alex asked, and his tone matched the baffled confusion of the caller when I had denied who I was.
Maybe I was jumping to conclusions, but everything I had thought had been coincidental was falling more and more into place; Scott’s death in front of me had been accidental and unexpected, but he had died of a plague, a plague that could kill my real family—the Desmonds. Someone had called me, looking for Nicolina Desmond, not Nicole Thomas.
The photographs they had and their knowledge of who I was made me wonder who they were. And if they knew about Scott and his friends, they likely knew something was wrong with the Fenerec—and with my sister and the rest my Fenerec family. It most likely made Richard and Alex Fenerec, too.
Seeing someone die from plague in front of me was a lot worse than worrying about those I hadn’t seen in years. Unlike my family, Richard and Alex were right in front of me.
But were they Fenerec? They didn’t act aggressive, but then again, Scott hadn’t either—not on the outside. I’d only learned the truth through taboo magic I regretted using. But if they knew my real name, they knew I had stakes in the matter.
Assuming, of course, I wasn’t just jumping to conclusions. But there was only one way to find out, if I had the courage to speak.
The words came out far more easily than I expected. “Those boys weren’t murdered,” I said, lifting my chin from my palm so I could lean back in my chair.
Both Alex and Richard froze, staring at me with shocked expressions.
Richard recovered first. “What do you mean?”
“No one can kill someone like that. No one. Something else killed them.” Once I started talking, the words kept coming. I shivered and tried to mask my fear by reaching over and taking the folder from Richard. Flipping it open, I pulled out Scott’s picture. “I was standing right next to him when he died, Richard. No one else was there. It couldn’t have been murder. No one can rip someone apart like that, not in a minute.”
My wish for justice had turned into a race for survival, the talk of Scott’s death reminded me of the stakes and of the family I didn’t want to remember, but had to.
“What did you see?” Richard leaned closer, staring at Scott’s photograph.
“The power was off, I didn’t see anything.” Anguish strangled my voice. “When the power came back, there wasn’t much left of him. Pieces, Richard. Little pieces. And
so much blood. But your file doesn’t show that, does it?”
“No, it doesn’t,” Richard admitted, lowering his head. “We heard his death was bad.”
“It was worse than bad. Far worse. He fell apart, just like that.”
I hadn’t been able to save him, but maybe I could save others, somehow. I squelched my guilty conscious, determined to make a difference instead of wallowing.
“There’s no point in hiding it from her,” Alex said, his voice not much louder than a whisper. “She’s going to find out eventually.”
“Find out what? That the Desmonds are a family of Fenerec, or that Scott was one of them too?” I hoped they heard the scorn in my voice. “That might make you among them, too. Werewolves.”
Both of them flinched, but said nothing.
“You could be Inquisitors too, I guess.”
Richard surged to his feet, slapping both of his palms against the table. “We are not a part of the Inquisition.”
“Easy, Richard,” Alex whispered, tilting his head to expose his throat to his brother.
Richard scowled, sat back in his chair, and glared at his brother, who studied the tabletop. “Well, we aren’t.”
“I’m not either. But you probably already knew that, didn’t you?”
“You’re just a human,” Richard said. I think he meant to comfort me but it didn’t work. I was more than a bit insulted at the ‘just’ part of his comment, although I kept my mouth shut.
The Ferenec and I shared one thing in common: neither of us were human and never would be. I couldn’t tell them that, and had to continue pretending to be something I wasn’t, right up until the day I died.
The silence smothered me and I fell prey to the need to fill it with something—so I asked questions. “What do you actually want with me? Tell me the truth. Those men who kidnapped me aren’t human either, are they?”
Richard winced. “No, they aren’t.”
“What were they, then, if they aren’t human?”
“Fenerec, but not from our pack.”
“What did they want with me?”
“I can only guess, but I think they wanted you to make a phone call.” Richard stood and headed down the hall. “Wait here a moment, please.”
I stayed seated, twisting in my chair to watch him disappear into the bathroom. After a few minutes, he emerged holding up my broken cell phone. Its screen was shattered, the display dead.
“They wanted my cell phone? It won’t help anyone now.”
“Probably happened during the wreck,” Richard said, setting the phone in front of me. “I’ll replace it for you.”
I considered telling him the truth about the phone’s demise, but decided against it. “So they wanted my cell phone?”
Richard looked over at Alex, who sighed, pulled out a phone, and grabbed mine. With practiced ease, he dismantled my cell and removed the data card. “They wanted you to make a phone call for them. There are a lot of people who would pay a great deal of money to have this chip.”
“It’s just the info for my phone, isn’t it? There’s nothing on it of importance, unless they want to know where I order my pizza from or want Dominic’s number. Though, you already proved you don’t need my contact list to get his number.” I stretched across the table and grabbed my broken phone, staring at the cracked screen. The case was bent in several places, and there were scratches marring the metal. “Damn, I liked that phone too.”
“What do you know about the Fenerec, Nicole?” Richard asked.
“Not a lot. You’re a pretty secretive lot.”
“But you knew about us.”
I snorted, pointing my ruined phone at Alex. “Don’t play games. You called my phone, Alex. You asked for Nicolina Desmond, didn’t you?”
Alex grimaced, but nodded.
“Then you already know my father and sister are in with your lot. That’s all I know. You live together in packs and you’re dangerous. I don’t want to know anything more than that.” Something nagged at me, like I was forgetting something really important, but I chose to ignore the feeling.
“You denied it on the phone,” Alex said.
“Well of course I did. If I wanted every dipshit knowing I had a name other than Nicole Thomas, I would just use my real name. There’s a reason I don’t want to be called Nicolina. And that reason is none of your business.” I spread my fingers out over the tabletop so I wouldn’t ball my fingers into fists. The fear I had left crumbled under my anger. “Spit it out. You want me for something. What is it?”
“We want you to call your father.” Richard met my gaze, and whatever he saw in my eyes made him pale several shades. I’m not sure why, but I refused to look away from him. It was just like when I had stared at the man who had kidnapped me. If I lowered my gaze first, I’d lose. I wasn’t sure what would happen if I did.
Maybe it was pride, but I clenched my teeth and refused to look away until Richard did. I let go of the breath I hadn’t realized I had been holding.
Without his gaze on me, I could focus on what Richard had asked me to do. My childhood was something I didn’t like thinking about. It was easier to live with myself when I didn’t bother remembering the past. My memories of my father were few and far between, but he had always scared me a little. He was larger than life, detached, and willful. All he had wanted from me was perfection—and he had gotten it. My escape had been in my singing, but he had gone out of his way to cultivate even that. He had forced me to learn the piano as well.
Even if I did return, without my voice, I couldn’t please him anymore. With my refusal to become a Fenerec, with my running away, I was worse than useless to them. My sister was one of them now—a Fenerec, just like our father.
I hated her for it, as I hated him for being what he was. And because I was a coward, I had run away.
“If you want someone to speak to Mr. Desmond, I recommend a girl named Lisa. She looks a bit like me. And unlike me, they like her.” I lowered my gaze to Scott’s picture. “You have the wrong Desmond, Richard. I can’t help you.”
“And therein the problem lies,” Richard said, slapping down a photograph in front of me. It was me—or it would have been me, if I didn’t have scars. My twin. Lisa was wearing a bikini, lounging in front of a resort pool, cocktail in hand. Unlike me, her hair was short cropped, framing her tanned face.
Lisa didn’t match my memories of her. Once, I could have looked in the mirror to know what she’d look like. Now, she appeared older than I did. Then again, there were those who thought I was still in high school because of my appearance. I hadn’t changed much after I had become a wizard, and maybe being a Fenerec hadn’t impacted her in the same way wizardry had for me.
“It’s her picture. So what?”
“We can’t find her,” Richard said. “That doesn’t surprise me—she’s a secretive one and vanishes when she wants. This was taken last year, before she went underground again. That’s why we were looking for you. It’s one thing to have Mr. Desmond’s phone number, but another to get him to actually talk to us.”
“Lisa’s always been a bit of a bitch like that,” I muttered, snatching her photograph. Whoever had taken her picture had caught her unaware, when she was smiling sadly. She hadn’t changed all that much, for all she looked older than I did. “Tell me why I have to be the one to call him.”
It wasn’t a request; it was an order. Judging from their startled expressions, the two brothers realized it. They exchanged a long look. After a moment, Alex nodded.
Richard shrugged and he let his breath out in a long sigh. “It’s about what happened to Scott. We want his advice.”
“Was Scott a part of your pack?”
Once again, the brothers stared at each other. Richard shook his head. “No, but it’s a matter that impacts all Fenerec.”
A plague would impact all of the Fenerec and make them desperate in the progress. If I called my father, I would have to acknowledge everything I had left behind and the people I
didn’t want to remember.
Nicole Thomas didn’t have a family. I’d been careful when I had created her, when I had paid a great deal of money to insert falsified information into public records, all so I could look like a real person. And I had killed off Nicole Thomas’s relatives. Family was a burden I hadn’t wanted to bear.
I spat curses, grabbed my cell phone, and fought the urge to slam it on the floor. Richard’s mouth dropped open and Alex backed away from the table, as if hoping the extra distance would spare him from my temper.
Instead of throwing the broken phone, I set it back on the table with purposeful care. A temper tantrum wasn’t going to help anyone, even though I was sorely tempted to break something.
Maybe the damned book had been right after all. If I really wanted to help the Fenerec, I’d call. There wasn’t a choice, although I had no idea what my father could do to help.
He was doomed like the rest of them.
Chapter Twelve
It took me over an hour to work up the courage to do what needed to be done. The entire time, Richard and Alex waited in silence.
“Where’s the phone?” I rose, careful to make sure my bathrobe stayed secured. Both men—no, Fenerec—stood, and Richard gestured to the office.
I led the way, slumping into the executive chair, muttering things under my breath. I’m sure they heard me, but neither said a word about the foul words coming out of my mouth.
I wondered if under their charismatic surfaces they were like Scott, full of the need to protect and dominate. My father hadn’t run with other Fenerec. I remembered that much with crystal clarity. I hadn’t even known what he was until my sister had decided she wanted to become one too. By then I had learned to fear them, though I couldn’t remember why. Maybe my fractured memory was why neither Richard nor Alex really frightened me, not in the way car accidents did.
Drumming a beat on the edge of the desk, I glared at the phone, trying to steel my nerves. The sooner I picked up the handset and dialed, the sooner I’d be done. A few years hadn’t erased the phone number from my memory, but I hesitated. Had it changed? I glanced at Richard. “The number?”
