Table of Contents
Title Page
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Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Epilogue
A note from the author
Book 3: Sneak Peek
About the Author
Inheritance
Heart Lines Series #2
©2017 Heather Hildenbrand
All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written consent of the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are a product of the authors’ imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, either living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
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Chapter One
Sam
A curtain of wet humidity hung around me, matting my hair and tank top to my already damp skin. Up ahead, something moved, and I froze. Slowly, I raised my hand and drew the wide, leafy branch out of the way to get a better look at the streak of gray against the bright green branches. Sunlight streamed in from the break in the foliage overhead, the jungle floor dappled heavily with rectangular shadows where the thick brush beside the path obscured the sunlight. In the depth of the shadows, I spotted what had caught my eye. A pair of beady eyes blinked back at me and I was a little surprised and a lot relieved to see the eyes belonged to a creature not covered in fur. In fact, there wasn’t a single strand of hair on its entire body. Reptile. That was a nice change of pace.
The creature didn’t move to attack, only continued to stand and watch me, its scaled front leg perched on the edge of a fallen log.
Clearly, little old me was not nearly enough to intimidate this guy. Who said lions were the king of the jungle?
“Holy shit, is that a komodo dragon?” RJ crashed up behind me sounding like an entire indigenous tribe, his hot breath landing on my nearly-bare shoulder. Apparently, on vacation, RJ dropped his stealthy hunter habits and had gone full tourist.
The giant lizard two feet away snaked its tongue out and narrowed its eyes at us as RJ pressed in closer to get a better look. His shell necklace cut into my skin beside my bathing suit strap.
I elbowed RJ and took a step backward to find the path again, letting the branch fall into place between us and the lizard. “No, it is not a kimodo. Those things only live in Indonesia or something. I think it’s a monitor. Aunt Kiwi says those are pretty common here.”
“Wait.” He frowned. “We aren’t close to Indonesia?”
I rolled my eyes. “Not quite.”
His brows knitted and he cocked his head. “What are we close to again?”
“Nothing,” I said. “The island of Guam is pretty much close to nothing. You would remember that if you hadn’t slept the whole trip.”
We fell into a single file line and continued along the winding downhill path. The guidebook my aunt Kiwi had given me said this trail led to a private beach and RJ was intent on exploring. The fact that the book had called it an “expert level” hike only made him more excited.
I kind of just wanted to throw up.
“I really don’t understand how you’re functioning in this heat. Much less with the jet lag,” I said.
“Kid, it’s been a week,” he said, using the nickname he’d given me when he found out he was six months older than me. I pretended it annoyed me but truthfully, RJ was the closest thing to a brother I’d had in a while. My own brother, Breck, wasn’t around much and having an annoying nickname from RJ was a nice replacement. I wasn’t about to tell him that though.
“A week isn’t that long for jet lag,” I argued. “Didn’t Kiwi say it was a metabolism thing?”
“Maybe,” RJ said, snapping a branch off a low-hanging tree as we passed. “Or you’re just lazy.”
“Don’t make me curse you,” I said, wiggling my hands at him menacingly, and he shot me a smirk. We both knew I wasn’t capable of anything resembling intentional magic, try as I might.
“You’re just jealous that you couldn’t sleep on the plane,” he said, and I was rewarded with the sound of him huffing out the words as he went around me and ran up the steep incline ahead.
“Those airplanes are like dark magic,” I said, growling as I remembered the trip here.
“You did it once before,” he pointed out.
“Last time I was here I was nine,” I called to him. “Not the same.”
“Still, you’re practically a local the way the people treat you here.”
“My cousins treat me that way because Kiwi told them I’m a shaman.”
He laughed and held out his hand, helping me up the incline. We both huffed a lot as he dragged me more than I climbed. At the top of it, I straightened and took a deep breath against the burning in my muscles. God, I was out of shape.
“True,” he said. “You should have seen their faces when we walked into that cookout the other night.”
I grimaced at the crowd Kiwi had waiting for us when we’d arrived last week. Thirty people, easily—all of them cousins in some far-off branch of the family tree. You would have that I was the prodigal son. Or cousin. Whatever. They’d fawned over me all night until I’d almost collapsed and RJ had insisted I go to bed.
“Kiwi got off really easy that night,” I said. “And those women are lucky I didn’t turn them all into toads or something.”
RJ looked back and when he saw my expression, his smirk widened and he shook his head. “Sam, I am legit terrified of the day you figure out how to use your magic.”
His words, though light and joking, made me shudder. I tried turning away but RJ didn’t miss much. “I’m sorry,” he said hastily. “I didn’t mean to bring it up.”
“It’s fine,” I said, waving him off. Pretending I wasn’t bothered by my lack of progress was a daily charade. RJ made it clear he wasn’t buying it but so far he’d left it alone.
He’d even walked in on me once t
rying to shoot my stuffed bear with white light. He hadn’t commented later about the fact that it had been burnt to a crisp by the time I was done with it. Blackened teddy bear was not my greatest moment as a witch. I hadn’t told anyone else about it just yet.
“You know it’s going to take time,” he began and I couldn’t stand to listen to his attempts to console me.
I whirled on him, close enough to make his eyes widen and he leaned away. “RJ, I don’t want to talk about this okay? I don’t want to hear that I should be patient or give it time or stop forcing it or whatever. I just don’t want to discuss it. All right?”
He blinked and for a second, I thought he was going to push back. To insist I face up to the real fear: that I wasn’t going to figure out my magic before Alex died.
But finally, he blew out a breath and nodded. “Roger that, boss.”
He turned and went back to climbing and I let him lead the way up the last of the sharp inclines that took us to the top of the hill. By the time I’d joined him, I was panting hard enough that the irritation had left me. All that was left was the unspoken fear.
Fear of failure and worse, fear that I’d succeed. That was the crux of it. The part I didn’t want to tell anyone. So, instead, I focused on RJ and our hike and this moment in our tropical paradise.
One more small hill to go. I took RJ’s offered hand and let him haul me up the uneven hill beside him. At the top, I planted my feet firmly and inhaled. “Yeah,” I said on an exhale, amused instead of irritated at his words. “It’s good to be me again.”
RJ’s smile turned softer. “You are different, you know.”
My amusement faded. “Different bad?” I asked, immediately concerned.
In the weeks since my memory had been restored, I’d done my best to pretend outwardly that the transition had been easy. Sliding back into an old version of myself while retaining all the changes I’d experienced in those two years that I’d had a bad case of supernatural amnesia was not easy. I wasn’t entirely sure who I was right now.
“No, not bad. Just different.” RJ shrugged and when I didn’t let up with my meaningful stare, he continued. “You’re unpredictable,” he said and I scowled as he rushed on. “In a good way. More adventurous, more fearless. More like you don’t care what people think anymore.”
“What does that mean? Because it sounds like you’re calling me a bitch,” I said, skeptically.
“It means you don’t take any shit,” he said, grinning and I was glad he didn’t seem upset about our argument before. “Case in point: this conversation. You call it like you see it. I like that about you. Makes my job as your protector easier.”
“What job?” I shot back, smiling, and we continued walking again, this time with RJ in the lead. “We haven’t seen a single werewolf since we got here. This trip is a vacation for you,” I pointed out, stepping over a small gecko as it darted into the jungle.
RJ huffed. “Please. Fending off all the wild dogs roaming the island is a full time job.”
“Don’t forget the wild chickens,” I said.
RJ scowled. “How could I? That rooster picks my bedroom window to crow under every morning.”
I laughed—enjoying how it felt to joke.
RJ was right; I was different.
The warm air, the feel of the sun on my skin, the sense of safety had all done wonders for my anxiety—which had only slightly improved back home in California in the last month since my memory had returned. Maybe a change of scenery was what I’d needed. Maybe a lack of werewolves trying to kill me didn’t hurt either. In the last few weeks, no less than thirteen feral werewolves had been found and, sadly, killed trying to attack me. Every time I had to see it, I felt more and more unsure that I could actually do anything to help them. So far, all I’d done was attract them to me and then get them killed. I was seriously looking forward to the next couple weeks of winter break.
This new, lighter version of myself was a welcome contrast from my life for the past two years. Before this, I was sad, scared, and overwhelmed pretty much every moment of every day. I’d had no idea my best friend’s boyfriend had screwed with my brain, erasing my memory of the night I’d discovered werewolves existed and subsequently freaked out over it. His memory erasing trick had put some sort of block on me so that I couldn’t handle… well, life.
A month ago, Wes had reversed the damage done, and now, I had what amounted to two separate personalities inside me. Now, there was just the small matter of merging them—and figuring out who I was—while also making sense of dozens more new memories that had been unblocked in the process.
Apparently, I’d blocked more than just one night. Dozens of forgotten memories had come rushing back, all of them more unbelievable than the last. But none of them compared to that night in my kitchen with Wes, Angela, and Alex.
But then, Alex wasn’t someone I let myself think about right now. Feeling the weight of it all again, I frowned and when I looked up again, RJ was watching me closely again.
“What?” I asked, shoving all those heavy thoughts aside for now.
“Nothing,” he said quickly and went back to the trail.
He’d been doing that a lot in the last month or so since I’d gotten my memory back. Worrying, though he wouldn’t admit it.
After I’d realized my reclaimed knowledge of magic and the sick werewolves infected with some mystery virus were linked, RJ had volunteered to help me find out more. To travel with me wherever I went as a protector. What he hadn’t bargained for was my mood swings. For that, I felt bad. At least our first assignment—coming to Guam so I could learn about my tribal ancestry from my aunt—was a good trade.
For him anyway. For me, confronting family about lying to me for the last few years didn’t sound super exciting. So far, I’d been a big chicken shit about it and put it off. But I’d have to bring it up before I left. And I would have to report back to Tara, my high school best friend and now-leader of CHAS, the organization that governed hunters and werewolves worldwide. I was making this trip on their dime after all.
Up ahead, the trees finally gave way to a clearing and the jungle path under my feet turned to rocks and then sand. I came up beside RJ and stopped, looking out over the view before us.
Just beyond where we stood, the ground dropped a couple of feet and from there, a sandy beach rolled out for a dozen yards before the ocean came to meet it. Azure blue water, so brilliant it stung my eyes, met pristine white sand. Far off, at the edges of the cove, large rocks lined the beach and the waves crashed gently against them. Directly in front of us, though, tiny waves lapped lazily at the shore. Beyond the gentle rush of water, it was utterly quiet.
Not a house or a car or any sign of another human for miles.
“So quiet,” RJ said softly. “Not even a bird calling in the jungle.”
I shot him a sideways glance, wincing as I said, “That’s because the tree snakes ate them all.”
His eyes went wide in horror and I laughed. “What? They don’t have snakes in Oregon?”
RJ ignored the question and muttered something about being tougher than any legless creature. We fell silent, both lost in the view. I kicked my shoes off and just stood there, breathing. My body hummed with relaxation. I tipped my face upward, soaking in the warmth of the sun and letting the sound of the water and the feel of the pebbled sand fill my senses.
No wonder aunt Kiwi spent three months here every year. There was more to it than just because it was her mother’s home. Guam might have been nothing but a tiny speck of an island in the middle of nowhere, but it was wildly beautiful.
And it was healing me.
Very slowly, just a little each day, I was already beginning to find myself.
“Hey, there’s a sandbar out there.” RJ pointed and I squinted at the spot. Waves lapped at the edges of it, but the center was a clear platform of white sand in the middle of the inlet. Several dozen yards beyond that was the main reef that circled the island. Giant waves crashe
d against it, the ocean spilling over into what had become a tidal pool ringing the land.
RJ dropped the olive-skinned hand he’d used to shield his eyes and grinned at me. His shell necklace was the same bright white as his teeth as he grinned. “Last one to the reef does the dishes tonight,” he said.
My eyes widened and I squealed as he took off before I could agree. “Wait!” I yelled, chasing after him and already knowing it was a lost cause. But it felt too good to run so I gave it all I had anyway, knowing I’d be half-dead before I reached that sandbar.
I wasn’t awful at sports, and when I’d gotten my memories back a month ago, my competitive streak had come with them. I wasn’t exactly fit anymore—I hadn’t done anything since cheerleading in high school—but I wasn’t falling apart yet either. Still, nothing topped RJ’s running and swimming abilities. The guy was like a damned fish.
He would beat me, hands down. We both knew it.
In the back of my mind, I knew RJ was only doing this to distract me. He’d become an excellent handler in that way. A good friend, a great bodyguard, and an even better listener. And we never, ever talked about him. I appreciated that.
So, even though I knew I would lose, I pushed myself and ignored my burning lungs and made it to the reef only about thirty seconds after him. I hauled myself up, too breathless to talk. My long, dark hair was matted to my face from the ocean water, the salt already making it tangled and messy. I smeared it out of the way with my hand and looked up.
RJ grinned down at me, from the looks of it, already fully recovered—or it just hadn’t been this hard for him. He was calm and relaxed, his tanned knees folded and his arms dangling over them, hooked at the elbows.
“Man, California’s pretty great, but it’s going to feel cold after this,” he said, gazing back at the beach we’d just left.
I grunted an agreement, still trying to catch my breath.
When I was fairly certain I wasn’t going to hyperventilate, I rolled onto my stomach, hanging over the edge of the sandbar, watching the brightly colored fish swimming underneath the surface of the clear, blue water.
Inheritance: (A New Adult Paranormal Romance) (Heart Lines Series Book 2) Page 1
