Beyond the Divide (Fractured Legacy Book 2)

by Skye Callahan

  “Irish whisky,” he corrected, reclaiming his seat next to her. “Our house was never without it.”

  Kaylyn sighed and took another drink—as whisky went, it wasn’t so bad, but it didn’t make her any less restless. “There’s not a lot here about the exact nature of the visions. Or my dad.”

  “Patience,” he drawled, “you’re only on page one.”

  “I don’t have patience,” she shouted, dropping her hands into her lap. “I want to skip to the answers.”

  “Are you this impatient on investigations?”

  “No, I enjoy putting those puzzles together. This is different—almost like there are no real answers, just a bigger puzzle behind each clue. And it’s my life we’re talking about. My entire life. I’m tired of secrets and lies.”

  “Why’d you jump?” he asked, his voice remained calm, but Kaylyn knew it was another of those questions she’d never get out of answering honestly.

  “Can I ask you a question first?”

  Jonah raised an eyebrow, leaning back and resting the papers he held against his lap.

  She was going to take that as a yes. “You told me that you thought your mom knew she was going to die. Did she see things? Like stuff no one else could see. Or feel—”

  Jonah rubbed his hand over his mouth. “I never really knew the extent of it, but she had something—second sight, sixth sense, I don’t know how to describe it or what the details were. She’d give Dad cryptic warnings all the time, always called it intuition, but it was more. I knew it even as a kid.”

  “Like don’t wash the car, it’s going to rain?”

  “No,” Jonah smirked, shaking his head and staring off into the center of the room. “More like, when you go out on the investigation, check the fourth floorboard.”

  “That sounds like a hell of a lot more than intuition.” Kaylyn’s voice shook and she squeezed her hands together in her lap. Even though Jonah had been with her in the hospital when she’d had her first visions, it felt strange to admit. Ultimately, it required delving deeper into both of their pasts and dredging up the pain of his lost mother if she was fully honest with him.

  She finally looked over, to find his eyes trained on her.

  “You experienced something,” he said, without a hint of question or doubt.

  “I saw people in the attic, like that day you were at the hospital with me.” Her gaze dropped while she waged a mental war over how much to say and what to say first. “Because of what I saw, I found a diary today that led us to a girl who used to live in the house. I just... I don’t know how or what I’m experiencing, and it’s kind of freaky.”

  Her boss was quiet for a moment, his eyes directed ahead as if he was trying to take it all in or figure out what he was supposed to say. “And you never experienced it before the hospital?”

  “No, which kind of freaks me out, because if it’s related... that means it isn’t over. But, I’ve kind of had that feeling anyway.”

  Reaching around her, Jonah squeezed her shoulder and pulled her toward his side. She grabbed the glass of whisky, before giving in.

  “I promise not to jump again,” she said, while skimming the second page of text, she looked for words that jumped out, without really taking in the meaning of it all. Her brain was too busy processing all of the thoughts that had already spun into action. “When we first went into the farmhouse, I second guessed every weird feeling I had, not knowing if it was imagination or something real.”

  “It certainly wasn’t your imagination when you sensed something that no one else could feel in the Teague Hotel.”

  “I know, but now I feel, hyper-aware. Maybe paranoid is a better word. It’s like I’m reading too much into stuff after everything that happened.”

  “Trust your intuition,” Jonah said. His words were shockingly familiar to what Ida had said in the house.

  “I’m not sure which voice is my intuition at this point.”

  Jonah shook his head and handed her a page, cussing while he skimmed the next sheet. “Your dad wasn’t in any of the other notes,” Jonah swallowed audibly. “Because he was dead by the time your mom found Emmerson.”

  “Dead?” Kaylyn’s voice squeaked, but she was careful not to jostle him again. She pulled the remaining papers away. “Emmerson was called in to investigate what looked like an occult killing—fuck. Was it—What the hell?”

  Her mind bounced from one sentence to the next, not stopping to let her take in the details or think about what was spewing out of her mouth.

  “I think they were trying to break the curse,” Jonah said, trying to pull the papers from her hands before she wadded them up in shock and anger.

  “So he, what? Sacrificed himself?” Kaylyn slowly rose from the couch; there was no way she could stay still. She paced around the coffee table, wringing her hands in front of her as Jonah continued reading mostly silently.

  “Emmerson managed to track down your mother, but he kept that out of the actual record.” Jonah flipped through the pages in his lap. “Why isn’t any of this in chronological order?”

  “It’s arranged by shock value,” Kaylyn said then she finished off the glass of whisky. “I don’t want to know what comes next.”

  Jonah watched her for a long moment then turned the page. “Emmerson managed to link all of the cases. There’s an entire genealogy here, but no names, only numbers—we’ll have to figure out how he kept track. Case numbers, maybe?”

  “Why?” Kaylyn asked. “Why wait until the tenth generation if you want to wipe a family out? Just do it from the beginning.”

  “If this entity gains power with every kill—”

  “Fuck.” Kaylyn’s legs went weak and she sat on the coffee table facing Jonah. “It’s not stupid, it’s perfect. Ten generations and people forget, people multiply, no one is looking for the solution anymore, and they all think it’s an old family story with no real implications. Families split apart, lose contact. And then, like waiting for the harvest, the entity picks off his meals one-by-one.”

  “We’ll have to see if we can match these numbers up with anything in case logs—if we can even get access. But there are still a few missing pieces to the chart as well.”

  “We could call up Emmerson directly,” Kaylyn said with a wry smile. It would be ironic, reaching out to the very man who hadn’t only kept her past from her—he’d stepped in and purposefully tried to cut her off from it.

  “You think you’re up for a conversation with him?”

  Kaylyn shrugged, “He’s the only one who knows anything substantive. I think he owes me an explanation.”

  “I think he feels the opposite, but I’m not opposed to trying—on one condition.” He sat forward, brushing all of the papers off to the side. “You are not taking on any of this alone.”

  “Offering to be my partner on this case?” She cocked her head, feeling the muddling effects of the beer clouding her mind.

  Jonah nodded, “Yes.”

  “Sure you wouldn’t rather be able to claim ignorance in the whole thing? We’re going to be digging through a lot of dirt, and you already have a committee coming in tomorrow to breathe down your neck.”

  “That’s exactly why I want in.”

  Kaylyn’s eyes widened. Trouble was the last thing he should want at this point.

  “I don’t want any surprises. Although, we will have to deal with the committee first.”

  “Right,” Kaylyn nodded and dropped her head. Her eyelids felt heavy until Jonah lifted her chin.

  “I didn’t actually expect you to finish the whisky.”

  “Desperate times,” she said, rubbing her hands over her face. She couldn’t be that drunk. “My eyebrows are numb.”

  Jonah snorted then grabbed his side. “You,” he elongated the word as he ruffled his hair and stood. “I don’t even know what to say. Come on, you’re not going anywhere, and I think you need to sleep off the alcohol.”

  He led her upstairs, even though half way she wobbled and
thought she was going to go over the banister. Hopefully, that was just an exaggeration of her befuddled mind, but once they reached the flat surface of the second floor, she wanted to drop to her knees.

  “God, I’ve become a lightweight,” she mumbled out, pressing her back against the wall.

  “But slightly amusing.”

  Jonah stood close to her—too close. He was always too close, but right now, her mind wasn’t screaming at her to get away, so she wrapped her arms around his neck.

  “Go to bed, Kaylyn,” he whispered. “I’m never giving you whisky again.”

  “But if I go to bed, I might regret letting you go when I had the opportunity not to.”

  He leaned in, stopping only inches from her face. “I’m a little foggy on pain meds, and to be honest, I have no idea if you’re making sense.”

  His thumb swiped over her lips before she could conjure up the words to try to explain, then his lips followed, pressing gently in a soft caress against hers.

  “You should really get to bed,” he whispered, pulling away slowly.

  “Why do you get to me? Get under my skin?” She wanted to enjoy the small kiss, but her mind reeled her to other places.

  “Because we’re both stubborn and set on getting what we want.”

  Even drunk, she operated in high gear. Everything in her head was a battle over what she’d regret more. Not taking a chance on the man in front of her. Letting him in and jeopardizing everything, including her career. They’d both already had enough of that. But everything about him unsettled her—and not in a particularly bad way, but it did make it very hard to keep from falling.

  Especially tonight, when everything was raw. Even with everything she’d begun to put together about her past, it was still her run in with Chad that threatened to break her open. Her feet refused to move, and even with the hallway swaying unsteadily with the whisky, she felt grounded as long as Jonah stood close to her. She closed her eyes, feeling the tears run down her cheeks. “What if I don’t want to be alone tonight?”

  Jonah’s lips pressed against her forehead, and his arms tightened around her. “Then, all you have to do is say so.”

  With effort, she opened her eyes and met his gaze. “I really don’t want to be alone.”

  He took her hand, lifting it to his mouth then tugged her toward his bedroom. She kicked off her boots and crawled into bed, still fully dressed. Alcohol and complete exhaustion made for a Kaylyn who cared for very little in the way of sleepwear. Jonah tucked himself in next to her, resting his hand against her side.

  Chapter 12

  Jonah sat in the conference room, facing the five-member committee that had been brought together for his review. After less than three weeks in charge, it had to be a record.

  He drummed his fingers silently against his thigh, beginning to wish that the doctor had completely written him off for another week. His last round of medication still weighed down his system, making the barrage of questions feel like trying to understand a noisy crowd at a hockey game. He tried to concentrate on the person speaking, but he wanted to be stretched out on the couch, drowning out the silence with some random documentary on the History Channel. Something that didn’t require him to think—better yet, something that didn’t require him to sit in an old office chair.

  Apparently, no one on his review committee ever had multiple broken ribs. Or, if they had, someone had forced them to endure some similar torture, which they intended to now take out on Jonah.

  Rodger Clayton of the Toronto, Ontario office had been chosen to lead the committee that also included his former boss from Boston, Hope Fuller, as well as Kameron Valence of Aberdeen, Scotland; David Gosling from Cardiff, Wales; and Kinsey Laseki from Darwin, Australia. Thus far, most of the committee members had remained silent, except for Clayton, who’d been leading the meeting and a few snide comments from Valence. Jonah wasn’t familiar with all of them, but he seemed to recall a connection between Valence and Randolph Emmerson—the Council member who had intervened on Kaylyn’s case and forced her suspension.

  The door to the conference room creaked open, and Jonah glared down the long conference table. Leon peeked in—a brief look of sympathy darkened his face before he addressed the head of the committee. “Kaylyn and Cole Anderson are here.”

  Jonah flattened his palm against his thigh. The review was about to get very interesting—and possibly very bad. He hadn’t seen Kaylyn since his alarm went off that morning, and she’d taken off like a baby rabbit who’d been scared out of its nest. One more decision that could potentially bite him in the ass, but something about her triggered his protective instinct.

  And, it was all exacerbated by the simple fact that most of the time she fought his protection.

  “Send them both in,” Clayton said, rising from his seat and directing the girls to take the seats on the far end of the table next to Jonah. “And Leon, as you’re acting as head of the office for the interim—”

  No, Jonah cursed silently. If they were asking Leon to stay, it meant they could be considering something more long term.

  “—we’d appreciate for you to sit in on the discussion.”

  Discussion, my ass, Jonah thought, barely managing to keep his lips from curling into a scowl.

  Leon looked at him first for confirmation before moving from the doorway, and Jonah nodded. After the girls took their seats, Leon took the final empty seat at his left side.

  Returning to his seat, Clayton continued, “Jonah has already been made aware of our concerns, but for the sake of those joining us now, we’ll reiterate.”

  To Jonah’s right, Kaylyn stiffened, but he kept his sights forward and his jaw clenched. Here we go again.

  Knowing Kaylyn for even the short time that he had, he knew she held herself accountable for the current investigation on him, and no argument he could give otherwise would ease her mind. And, after the last twelve hours, he didn’t dare predict her reaction to everything.

  Or whether or not she was even going to speak to him again whatever the outcome of the committee hearing.

  With or without her help, he’d pissed off some high-ranking people. Dr. Randolph Emmerson was most recent on the list, although he’d been relieved of his position on the Council, but the highest on the list, Gerald Cloutier, still had a bone to pick, and being across the ocean wasn’t going to protect Jonah from his wrath.

  There were too many secrets and lies—and it worked out in Jonah’s favor that Leon showed up when he did. Otherwise, the Council would have another reason to be breathing down Jonah’s neck. Pain meds and leading a paranormal investigation didn’t mix, even if Jonah limited himself to administrative duties, it’d give them more reason to pick and pry. With Leon in charge, at least Jonah had a contingency. One he barely knew, but if anyone could earn Kaylyn’s trust, it had to be well deserved.

  “You were assigned to this office with simple instructions, yet you undermined the authority of the Council by allowing Kaylyn Anderson to remain an active investigator—a choice that put the lives of both Kaylyn and yourself at risk, as well as her sister Cole, and as I understand resulted in the death of one Todd Browning. Jonah has already spoken to defend his own actions, but since the two of you were at the center of the investigation in question, we’d like to hear from both of you.”

  Kaylyn’s knuckles turned white as she squeezed the arm of her chair. Jonah thought the wood might splinter and break away until Clayton called her name.

  And this is where things become unpredictable, Jonah almost laughed in spite of the situation. Kaylyn... he could get her to wear a suit, even to show up for work early, but he knew deep in his gut that nothing was going to take the fire out of her will.

  “What do you want to know?” she asked, her voice wavering with nerves before she could get it under control.

  Clayton set his lips in a firm line and folded his hands on the table. “Were Jonah’s actions justified?”

  Kaylyn scoffed. “You mean the par
t where he saved my life? Listened when no one else would? Dug deeper than anyone else in this organization ever had to protect some cocky, insubordinate employee he didn’t even know?”

  Jonah put a hand over his mouth to hide his reaction. He wasn’t sure if he was slaphappy because of the drugs, but a mix of amusement and dread gnawed at his spine. Kaylyn had her own bone to pick with the Council, and he couldn’t rightfully argue. As far as he could tell, they’d conspired to hide her past from her—or at least helped Dr. Emmerson carry out his plan. They were ignorant assistants at best, co-conspirators at worst.

  The review committee was far from amused, however. Clayton leaned across the table, locking his sights on the young girl. “It’d be best if we stick to the specific issues at hand, Ms. Anderson.”

  “I thought I was,” she said dryly. “Unless by the issue at hand you mean the Council’s failure to give us information that could have prevented everything you mentioned.”

  Farther down the table, Valence straightened. “I think it best you withhold empty claims against the Council.” His thick burr cut through the room as he glared at Kaylyn.

  Kaylyn grunted and rose from her chair. “You wanted to hear from me, and in order to answer the question of whether or not Jonah’s actions were justified, I think we need a little context on the situation.”

  Leon nudged Jonah’s arm, but Jonah shook his head. He had no idea where this meeting was going to end up, but at the moment, he was so annoyed he didn’t care to stop her. He had maybe a fifty-fifty shot at keeping his position, and the only thing that increased those odds was having something of his own over the Council.

  He was willing to bet that something could be Kaylyn.

  Yet that involved staking his career on the most unpredictable girl he’d ever met.

  “Mr. Troyer,” Clayton’s gaze fell on Jonah.

  “What I say is on me, not him,” Kaylyn said. “You see, I’m willing to take responsibility for my actions.”

  And with that, there was no turning back. Clayton’s jaw pulsed, but under his full attention, Kaylyn continued her voice steady and tempered with anger.