“Something about this catches my attention,” she said.
“Of course it does. It's awful.”
“No, my gut says to start here,” she said, still looking at the boys in the picture. They both wore such empty, sad looks on their faces.
Lewis shook his head. “I certainly hope not.”
After looking through the clippings about the boys a little more, she moved on to the last few files. Once done, she made sure to put everything back neatly like when they started.
They walked out and found the sister at her desk.
“Can I ask you about one more time frame?” Gwen hoped her friendly smile would persuade her.
The nun gave her a puzzled look and said nothing as she waited for Gwen to continue.
“It seems the man that killed my grandfather also was here, and that was why they became so close.”
The lady looked at her, considering what she asked. “Do you know his name? Best I can do is tell you if we had him. I can't share personal information that isn't related to your family.”
Gwen didn't want to point out she just gave her a stack of files and all but one would end up being a stranger, so instead she smiled and agreed.
Lenny didn't have a secret past or closed adoption. She confirmed that Father George remembered correctly and Lenny grew up there.
On the drive home they talked a little about possible boys from the files. They both knew that it would all come down to more research and time.
Before they got home, Gwen stopped and picked up a pizza. She really wanted to be able to sit down and get straight to looking up things.
They arrived at her cold, dark house and Lewis set to making a fire while Gwen started coffee to go with her pizza.
She sat eating a piece while her laptop started and then she uploaded all the pictures from her phone. “So, who does your gut say to start with?” she asked Lewis, who sat perched behind her.
He found he needed a little extra magic to keep Fannie at bay since he’d held his man form so long. He suggested a little boy named Patrick, even though he felt she might have been drawn to those other boys for a reason. He didn't want her digging into something awful just yet, regardless of who they turned out to be.
She started with Patrick; a little boy adopted by an unidentified couple from Georgia. The file gave the boy's birth name and that ended up a dead end. It also gave the parents' first names. After deep digging she found no links to him or his birth parents. There had been no re-connection.
“How am I even going to start?” she asked out loud, frustrated.
“Detective? You have the resources to hire a private investigator. They would have access to places on the internet and things like that, we wouldn't.”
“Lewis,” she said, and reached out petting him. “You, I adore.” Her smile faded.
“What, my witch? That was the shortest-lived celebration I have ever seen.”
“I never gave Sebastian the blank check to transfer funds. I don't want to see him again. Not right now. Maybe not ever.”
“Ever? Shouldn't you at least let him explain to you what he is?”
She shook her head. “He kills people. That is all I need to know.”
“And you need him to have a check now so that you can access your funds?”
“I guess I could take one tomorrow, to Yardley. He seemed harmless.” She sighed. If she called Sebastian, he would have the resources from the fund he set up for her.
“You could call. If you don't want to see him, I am sure he will respect that.” Lewis couldn't believe he heard himself suggest that. A small part of him still wanted her to decide Sebastian was okay. The part Fannie tugged. He needed to answer her call and needed Sebastian to be there with Gwen, just in case. Of course, he needed to see Sebastian again himself because the pull kept getting stronger. Soon she might just summon him away. “I can take it, if you really don't want to talk to him.”
“You would do that? You don't even like him.”
“No, but I love you, and if you need me to talk with him for you, I will.”
“No, Lewis, we are not five. I will call and arrange to handle it thorough Yardley.”
Once she decided to call, Lewis gave her privacy. He flew outside to try to ground himself a little better. How strong the pull felt worried him and he wondered what Fannie wanted so urgently.
Gwen didn't know what she expected to feel, but when she heard that smooth Mediterranean hello, mingled with sadness, she almost hung up. Her own hello sounded far away and she heard herself talking as if she felt much more in control than she actually did.
She told him about the orphanage and her plan to hire a detective to chase down the leads. Then she explained that she forgot to give him the check and needed some of the disposable funds to get started.
“I can have that ready for you by the time you get here if you would like,” he said, even though he already knew she would not come over. He heard that much in the unspoken words and tone of her voice. It was clear she still struggled with what he was.
“I will be by first thing in the morning if that is okay. I can grab it on my way to meet with an investigator.”
“Of course. Can I do anything else for you?” he asked.
She thought she heard a crack in his voice and felt herself fight the urge to comfort him. Comfort him from what? Her own disgust at what he was? How do you comfort a creature like that? Ever since she arrived in town, he provided her with a soft landing from every hardship thrown at her, even from Lewis.
She felt awful that rather than pay him back the kindness, she caused him more sadness. She argued with her own mind between wanting to make this better and wanting to pretend she never laid eyes on his cursed face.
“Gwen?”
“I'm sorry, Sebastian, I can't do this right now,” she said. “I will be by in the morning. Thank you.” Her hand trembled as she hung up the phone.
The house felt like the walls were going to come in around her and she walked outside, where she saw Lewis on the porch railing.
“Is all well, my witch?” he asked, even though he could see the answer on her face.
“No, I don't even know what I am feeling. Confused.”
“Can I help?”
“Why did you change your opinion of him so quickly?” Her voice sounded firm and pulled together, much to her surprise.
The question threw him off and made him glad he already held his raven form. He could go the Sebastian honesty route, tell her about Fannie and the charm Sebastian made, and get similar results, but he didn't want to go down that path. “Things were not as black and white as I first assumed.”
“You think I…” She paused. “I don't even know what I want to know. I'm going for a walk.”
“Walk? It's freezing out here.”
“I need to think. I'll summon a fire if it gets cold.”
“Gwen, really, that's reckless.”
“It's practice.”
“Oh, practice for what? For the coming ice age? Besides that, you never learned fire yet.”
“Don't be a smart ass,” she said, and walked away.
Lewis gave her the space she needed. He needed some himself. Later he would go talk to Sebastian and let him know he still struggled. Maybe he could rework a few things into the charm for added protection.
Gwen walked into the cold night. She listened to the sound of the snow under her feet, felt the air sting her face, and smelled the minty cold scent carried on the frozen wind. She didn't pay attention where her steps took her. She ended up on a small, uneven stone path. The overgrown roots pushed the stones at awkward angles.
The cold air sunk through her coat, into her clothes, and reached her skin. She could feel cold from the inside out. Her soul felt alone and as dark as the night sky. Even the small quarter moon seemed to refuse to shine on her.
At the end of the path she stopped at a small well. It rose about calf high and she carefully sat on the rim. She ran her fing
ers along the edge. She wondered if Lizzy ever went there, or who sat there before her? Had they made wishes? Were they answered?
It seemed like every answer she uncovered led to five more questions. The spinning in her mind got faster, even as she tried to put her feet down. She looked down the well and saw blackness. She wondered how deep it sank, and if any water remained at the bottom. She wondered about those things because they were easier than wondering about Lizzy, William, Fannie, Lewis, and Sebastian.
Sebastian, it always came back to that. He stayed at the center of everything. He gave her most of the answers she gained about Lizzy and probably held more answers, answers she may not want. Answers to deeper questions about life, death, and sadness. Why did Lizzy trust him close to her family that she loved so dearly?
The better question, the question still dancing in the back of her mind, was why did she still want to see him again? She did want to see him again. Wanted to see his eyes, feel his warmth and get lost in his strong, comforting arms. What did that mean? A witch who craved the touch of a monster. Could something like him even love anymore? What was it in his eyes when he looked at her?
The coldness started to make her stiff and shivery, so she used the things Lewis taught her to manipulate some downed branches into a small pile on the stones beside her. She enjoyed the way the magic felt as it raced through her. It surprised her how easily she pulled fire from nothing. The branches exploded into bright white flames that warmed the area.
S ebastian and Lewis stood just outside of Sebastian's house. The explosion of magic stopped their talk about the best way to proceed with Fannie.
“What is she doing now?” Lewis said, frustrated. “She's in the woods alone. God knows what she'll attract. Help me get to her.”
“It's magnificent.” Sebastian shifted and followed her scent, with Lewis flying overhead. He found her trail easily. Her magical vibration tugged him toward her. Just at the edge of an opening he saw the fire. He knew the spot, the old wishing well. He felt her and knew she felt him too.
Lewis circled overhead, not wanting to interrupt unless they needed him.
Gwen looked to the woods and saw the wolf watching her. The wolf bore beautiful markings in its deep colors. The unmistakable blue eyes seemed so full of life. She felt drawn to him, she wanted to walk over and stroke his fur. The need to connect with him frightened her.
In the back of her mind she sensed Lewis. Were they still working together for her?
Her eyes glanced up to see him as a black spot in the sky.
She imagined calling up the fire prompted them to both come and protect her from any danger. Didn't Lewis think Sebastian posed a threat? Did she? No. She didn't feel that from him. She never had.
He sat as still as the air that seemed to stop while it waited with him for her to decide how this ended.
Her eyes locked on his and she made a few steps toward him.
He stayed perfectly still as he watched her movements.
She stopped after just a few steps. She tried to imagine what it meant that the beautiful man, beast, and monster were the same creature. She imagined he felt her hesitation, just as she felt his sadness deepening with each passing second. Had he thought she would easily accept his dual nature?
Her mouth opened and she watched the cloud of air that carried her words. “We need to talk.”
Her words danced like music in the air as he shifted to a man and stood watching her.
She turned and walked back to the fire. She sat on the edge of the well again. She felt him behind her. “Was this a wishing well?”
“It is.” He fought the need to hold her and take away her unease.
“I wouldn't even know what to wish for anymore.” She turned to him with tears in her eyes.
“I do.” He stepped a little closer.
“No, don't. I need to know more about you. It can't be like it was. I can't even be here like this with you right now. It feels, different.” She stood and walked to the fire.
“I'm sorry, Gwen.”
“Sorry for what?”
“That I made you feel anything unpleasant.”
The hurt on his face sent her mind to that confused place where she wanted to run away from him and to his arms all at the same time.
“What can I do?” he asked.
“We need to talk about what you are. What you really are. But not now. Sebastian, I can't yet. I still feel too raw looking at you.”
“When you are ready. I should have stayed at home.” He turned to leave.
She wanted to run after him more than she imagined she would. Instead, she called to Lewis and they cleared the area of her magic, before walking home.
She dreamed of Sebastian again.
Chapter Seventeen
G wen held her breath as she waited for Yardley to return. He left her in the study again, where she would be warm.
She didn't sit in the chair, she remembered what happened last time and could already smell and feel Sebastian in the air. She didn't want the rush of his scent that she knew would come from the fabric where he must have spent so much time.
Every few seconds that passed she considered leaving a note, leaving a message, telling him she missed him and that they needed to have that talk, but each time she pushed it away, remembering the image of the vampire feeding in New Orleans.
She was relieved and grateful her resistance held out when Yardley came in with papers, a checkbook, and a debit card.
“It’s not as you might think,” he said, his voice sounding somber.
“Thank you for the help with this,” she said, ignoring the conversation he wanted to have. For all she knew he was some sort of slave to Sebastian's blood. She didn't know how things like that worked but in movies they, vampires, could make people do things, and always had a day servant who was somehow enslaved to them. “I should go. I have an appointment to keep. Tell him. Tell him thank you.”
“Yes Miss,” he said, and then turned, leading her out.
The sadness she felt when the door closed surprised her, and again she considered calling and leaving him a message. She fought that urge all the way to Mel's diner.
Mel had a happy greeting for her and was fast to have french toast and coffee ready, since the morning rush had ebbed.
Gwen almost frowned when she saw Curtis walk in, but managed to get her facial expression in control. She even managed a smile when he sat down across from her.
“How are you, Miss Hensley?” he asked, and nodded to Mel who hurried over to double check he wanted his usual.
“Good. How about you?” Gwen asked, before taking another bite. She was mulling over if she wanted to even mention her appointment.
“Been a quiet day so far.” His eyes scanned the room, stopping on the few faces of people eating with them. “Thank you love,” he said, when Mel sat his plate and coffee down.
She smiled at him and walked away to tend to other customers.
Gwen tried several times to make idle chatter but got the impression she bored him, and began to wonder why he always sat with her if he didn't want to talk to her.
She finished her food and coffee and left a tip under her cup. “I should go, I have an appointment,” she said, and felt her breath suck in. She really needed more practice on her thought to speech filter.
“Oh, getting your nails done,” he said, his tone flat as if he assumed that was the extent of appointments she could possibly have.
She caught herself before she wrinkled her nose. “I have family business to tend to.” She gathered her purse. “Thank you for joining me for breakfast.” She wasn't sure which of them found it harder to be polite, him because he was just naturally rude, or her because she found him naturally rude.
“Family business?” He gave her his full attention.
“Oh, I'm just working on a family tree is all.” It wasn't entirely a lie. She was tracking down William and his birth parents, that was like making a family tree.
Hi
s look said he wasn't buying it. He ran his tongue over his teeth and made a sucking sound that merited a look of disapproval, so she gave him one. She could feel his eyes on her as she paid and left.
The detective she found was a few towns over, but not too terribly far. Since she wasn't sure how long the ride would take, she allowed a little extra time and arrived about fifteen minutes early. The office was in a three-story brick building that looked no different to any other building on the street. There were no signs for the detective on the outside, just a small sign that said Playton Business Offices. Had she not made an appointment or had the address, she wouldn't have been able to find it at all. She assumed walk-in business wasn't something he relied on.
She walked inside and found the bottom floor was a large opened room with a listing of suite numbers posted between the elevators. She scanned the listings, finding detective Pratch was on the top floor. The elevator was small, dingy, poorly lit, and groaned as it traveled up. Gwen was glad it didn't have far to go as her claustrophobia started to get the better of her. She tried not to leap off when the doors opened, though she imagined she did step off with a bit more speed than usual.
After finding the right suite, she walked in to the small office to find a receptionist gabbing on her phone. Apparently, the woman was having a thrilling conversation because she didn't even look up to acknowledge Gwen when she said hello.
Gwen looked down at her hair. It was a dingy shade of blonde that made it hard to tell where the blonde and grays differed. When the lady looked up, Gwen guessed her around fifty, but a hard fifty, with her share of wrinkles and an uneven skin tone that the heavy makeup she wore did not hide.
The lady put her hand over the phone and in a cracked voice said, “Can I help you?”
“I have an appointment with detective Pratch. I'm Gwen Hensley,” Gwen said, and smiled.
“You're early, have a seat,” she said, and went back to her conversation.
It was fifteen minutes before she hung up and buzzed the detective to let him know Gwen was there. If the chairs had a bit more cushion Gwen wouldn't have even noticed the time, but since they didn't, and she shifted in her seat every few minutes, she was very aware of how long she waited, and how fast the detective called her back when his unfriendly receptionist finally announced her.
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