Legacy of Danger

by Jillian David

  "It's a really long story. But I'm here now to help you all," Ruth said.

  Shelby stared at the door. "Help us defeat that thing? Then you know what it is."

  "Not exactly. We have some guesses. And we're not yet certain how you can destroy it. We've never seen anything quite like what you've described."

  Kerr leaned back in his seat. "That's remarkably unhelpful. Could you go back to the centuries-old part?"

  "Yes, in a moment." She sighed. "I know that this information is not helpful. That's why we didn't want to say anything until we had more details."

  Garrison snorted. "Still don't buy the story. And it would have made more sense at the interview last week to lead with the part about centuries-old distant relations—not to mention information on a monster stalking the family."

  "Well, the monster part did come later. And I'm sorry to have withheld that background. All I know for sure is that you do not yet want to be together. You're not ready. Once you can all fight, then..."

  "Then what? We become bait—" Vaughn grabbed his head and leaned against the mantel, his legs wobbling beneath him. What the hell? Without his consciously releasing it, his power had popped out like a damn parachute from his mind, then collapsed inward into infinite gravity, sucking him in.

  Then exploded outward again.

  "What's going—oh, no!" Shelby cried, holding up her hands to defend herself.

  Eric leaned in front of her, as if he could protect her from the bad emotions flying out of Vaughn's exploding head.

  "Man, dude," Kerr leaned back in the chair. "I even felt that through my connection with Shelby."

  Shelby tucked deeper into Eric's arms.

  Something familiar and horrible rained back down on Vaughn's conscious brain. His power pulsed, searching, desperate to surround...

  Mariah.

  Oh, shit.

  Chapter 36

  Despite the chill in the Brands' house, sweat prickled between Mariah's breasts. The thud of her pulse echoed Wyatt's footsteps as he paced, firearm in hand, in front of her chair. She held her breath.

  Linc grinned from the couch. "This is great, huh?"

  "Shut up," Wyatt growled.

  The impact of the shotgun butt on the table made every nerve in Mariah's body jump. Stay calm. Don't give them anything to retaliate against.

  She had really been kidnapped.

  Again.

  This time, though, she was getting out of here on the first try. And alive, by God.

  Step one, negotiate. "Guys, let me go back to the hospital. I won't say anything about what happened. It was... a misunderstanding. Right?"

  Linc did a suggestive swagger with his thumbs pointed at his chest, then licked his meaty lips, and Mariah threw up a little in her mouth. "No misunderstanding. I, for one, am glad you're here. We didn't get to spend much time together at the fight."

  She concentrated on staying upright. The shaking had escalated from a tremor to a full body shudder. Everything about this situation was so wrong. The rough pine floor and wood paneling in this house generated flashbacks that battered her from all sides. When would the beatings start?

  Breathe. Think. Do not give in to the panic.

  "So what do we get to do with... her?" Linc pointed to Mariah.

  Wyatt's slow grin contained zero happiness. Red glinted in his eyes. Not normal. Had to be possessed. "She's bait so we can screw those Taggarts over real good. It's part of the Great One's plan."

  Mariah pushed to her feet. She couldn't take this insanity anymore. "That's it. I'm done here."

  With a whip-like move, Wyatt's grip bit into her upper arm. The muzzle of the gun rested under her chin. "I don't think so."

  Through a motionless jaw, she whispered, "You'll be arrested for this, Wyatt."

  "Only if anyone says anything." He smacked his lips. "Or if there's any evidence left to find."

  The edges of her visual field dimmed. Her heart beat too quickly. She couldn't breathe. The scent of moldy wood made her stomach cramp.

  Tommy piped up, his irises flashing from blank to briefly red. A whiff of sharp scent, like a match strike, drifted past her. She was dealing with much more than a crime here. "Good news. The sheriff witnessed this scene. Nothing to see here."

  She bit her lip. This could not be happening. But if they needed bait, maybe she could buy time.

  She tucked her hands in the coat pockets and wrapped her fingers around the cell phone.

  Maybe she could get a message out.

  Wyatt dragged her toward the hallway. "Why don't you go check on our mom while you're here. Although, I'd say she's pretty relaxed right about now."

  "What?"

  "Once you're in her room, sit there and be quiet."

  Mariah froze. Walk deeper into this house?

  "Go!" he bellowed, his voice echoing in a strange reverberation that spiked jolts through her spine. "If you try to leave, we'll hurt our mom."

  Linc snickered. "And I know how to find your brother, Doc. A bantamweight can't stand up against a heavyweight."

  Mariah froze. It was Utah all over again. Sweat prickled her chest.

  "Linc, take her phone and car keys."

  "Good idea." The fighter groped in her pocket, with far too much extra touching. Mariah's stomach churned. "Want me to destroy her phone?" he asked.

  "Not yet. We may need it to send our message."

  "Yeah." Linc waved at her. "Get out of here. We have revenge to plan. I get dibs on Vaughn. He owes me."

  Mariah forced her legs to carry her out of the living room and down the hall.

  Wyatt's gravelly voice drifted to her. "Not me. I'm going for low-hanging fruit. Kerr's easy. He can't run."

  Gasping, Mariah ducked into Mrs. Brand's room. A bedside lamp gave off sickly, yellow light.

  Oh, no. This room also had wood walls. A thick odor of musty pine made it hard to breathe.

  Mrs. Brand opened an eye. "What're you doin' here?" Her words slid out, slurred.

  "Are you okay?" Mariah asked. At least she could focus on treating a patient. Do something useful. Anchor herself to reality.

  "Mmmph." The woman drifted back to sleep. The hiss of oxygen and her light snore produced the only sounds in the room.

  Mariah gently shook the woman's shoulder, but nothing happened. She frowned as she checked the bottles at the bedside. Medication for her multiple sclerosis, an antibiotic, some blood pressure medication, and inhalers. Nothing that would... ah, a bottle of lorazepam. She shook the bottle. Two tablets left from the twenty prescribed a few days ago. That explained the stupor. Was the woman going to be okay?

  Mariah paced, her head whipping to the door at any external sound. Only the low voices of the three nuts filtered back to the room.

  Leave and Mrs. Brand might be hurt. Along with Mariah.

  Stay and the entire Taggart clan might be hurt. Along with Mariah.

  Where was Izzy? Mariah checked the bedside clock: 7:45 p.m. Even if she waited another hour or so for Izzy to return, there was no guarantee the woman could help. Worse, involving Izzy might put her in danger as well.

  Sweat trickled down her back.

  Heavy footsteps transmitted through the floorboards.

  No way was she staying here. She'd go for help and send someone to check on Mrs. Brand. But Mariah couldn't call for help here, trapped. She picked up the landline phone on the nightstand. No ring tone.

  What she really wanted to do was curl up in the fetal position and wish this nightmare away.

  Quietly, she began systematically going through the room. The window had a retrofitted lock on it. Unlikely they kept a key in here. But a window lock hadn't stopped Mariah years ago. She had defeated that lock with a metal brad and a paperclip back then. And a lot of desperation.

  The dresser top held a few boxes. Some earrings but the posts weren't long enough. A brush. How about bobby pins?

  Nothing. Damn.

  Moving to the closet, she fished around until a harsh squeak
stopped her.

  Metal hanger.

  Metal.

  Keeping an eye on the soundly sleeping Mrs. Brand, Mariah fished out the hanger, winter pants, and boots. Opening a few dresser drawers, she found woolen socks and gloves. She wasn't picky on sizes. Anything was better than the current work clothes she wore, because by God she was getting out of this place.

  A door slammed. She didn't move.

  A few low voices continued, presumably from the living room. The ever-present hiss of oxygen provided background sound.

  Quickly donning the extra layers, she took two hangers and bent one into a longer piece and pinched an end to push up the lock pins. She pressed the wire of the other hanger into a narrow loop to turn the lock itself.

  The lock was at waist height on the sill. With trembling fingers, she used those memories of her escape in Utah and went to work placing the narrow loop into the lock as a lever for the other metal piece. The wire thickness barely fit. But it fit.

  Click.

  Plink.

  Click.

  She turned the lock. Nothing.

  Sweat rolled down her temple, tickling her cheek. Air rasped in and out of her lungs.

  The voices continued. When would they come back?

  Forcing her hands to stop shaking, she rolled her shoulders. Not only would she make it out of this hellish place and find her way across wilderness to safety, she would call for help for Mrs. Brand, and then she would let the Taggarts know about the extent the Brand guys wanted to hurt them.

  She readjusted the hanger pieces.

  The light metal in the lock made tiny scritches in the quiet night. Who was it that had left the house? Would they be out here, waiting for her?

  She'd deal with that issue later. For now, escape.

  A slight movement of her hand, and there, she felt the bent tip of the long piece of metal push up the farthest pin. Easing the metal back, she pressed the second pin, then the third. One more to go.

  Footsteps echoed down the hallway.

  Last one.

  Clink.

  Scared to move, in case the whole thing slipped, she paused. Then, with a slow and steady twist, she turned the lock.

  The window lock popped open.

  Chapter 37

  Vaughn staggered in a circle, like he'd unloaded a gallon of brandy into his gut. "Where is she?" A vice grip cranked down on his brain. Remaining upright had turned into a hell of a chore.

  He stopped fighting and his knees gave out, dropping him to the floor.

  Shelby gasped for air in the chair as she pinched her nose. "Dude, stop."

  "Quit hurting her," Eric growled.

  Vaughn held his head in two hands, as if he could keep it from exploding. "I'm trying."

  Desperate. The power wanted—needed—to find Mariah. Needed Vaughn to protect her.

  Was she hurt? He tried to use his power to try and locate her, but the damned mental ability couldn't tell direction.

  Maybe this was the reason his power had shifted. So he could help Mariah when she was in danger.

  He glanced up. Ruth's wide-eyed expression iced his blood. Underneath, though, there was more. Like she understood how he felt. Like she'd experienced something similar herself. He rubbed the goose bumps on his arms. He'd deal with Mrs. Sphinx later.

  Another wave of pain hit him. His ability stretched his mind, reached out farther than he thought possible, pulling him in all directions with its clawing need to find her. He lifted his head out of his hands and met the horrified stares around him.

  "Find her," he said, the words tearing out of him.

  No one moved.

  "Please, Shel." Still on his knees, he turned toward his sister. "I'm begging you."

  Eric knelt and got in his face. "No. No way are you doing that to her. She's barely recovered from a damned coma. We don't know what using her power will do to her."

  "I know. Shit." The words ripped out of the back of Vaughn's raw throat.

  "It's okay." Shelby motioned Eric back. "I get it. When someone I loved was in danger, there was nothing I wouldn't do to help them."

  "Geezus—" Eric bit off as he stood up.

  Shelby's deadly expression made him bump back against the wall in a huff.

  "Let me try," she said.

  Garrison stood up. "Just don't go all the way into Mariah's head. That nearly killed you the last time you tried it on someone."

  She rolled her eyes. "Trust me when I say you don't have to remind me."

  Another blast of agony shot urgency through Vaughn's skull and he groaned. "Shit. Hurry."

  "Okay, then. Help me up, sunshine," Shelby said.

  Eric clenched his hands into fists, but as soon as she tried to stand on her own, he was right there at her side.

  Ruth clutched the wall near the entrance to the living room.

  Shelby pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes. With the hardware on her leg, movement took extra effort and extra time that Mariah might not have. Slowly, Shelby rotated until she stopped, facing the back of the house. "She's that way."

  "Wait. Her house, the hospital, and town are all over there," Vaughn protested, pointing in the opposite direction.

  She raised her orange brows. "And I'm telling you she's that way."

  He shook his head, trying to shake sense into what she was saying. "Nothing's out in that direction, except forest and..."

  The blood drained to his feet.

  "The Brand ranch," Kerr spat.

  "Damn it."

  "Well, let's go." Garrison pushed to his feet, grim set to his mouth. "With Shelby, we'll keep a bead on Mariah."

  "The hell you will." Eric helped Shelby to sit again. Her face had gone white, either from the pain of standing or the effort it took to force her over-taxed radar.

  "I can go," she mumbled.

  "Sorry, no. Not happening." He crossed his arms. "And you all better not ask her, or I won't be responsible for what I do. She has a freaking broken leg and was in a coma not a week ago. And you're seriously considering sending her out there into potential danger? Forget it."

  Ruth's voice came out icy and smooth. "He's right. Do not go together. Not all four of you. As I said, don't go until you're ready to confront it once and for all." Her hazel and gold eyes unfocused, like she peered far beyond every last one of them and saw their souls.

  Vaughn ground his teeth. "I don't have time for riddles, Great-Grandma. Time's ticking."

  Ruth paused, then shook her head. "One of you must stay back."

  "Okay, okay, I'm staying. Problem solved," Shelby said.

  Garrison rubbed his jaw. "Don't we need you for the radar?"

  "Not if we're just going to the Brand ranch. We all know where that is." Vaughn danced from foot to foot. Damn it, he needed to get moving. Mariah was somewhere out there. In danger.

  "What if she's not there?" Garrison asked. "Shelby can tell direction, not distance."

  Vaughn pressed the heels of his hands to his burning eyes. "First of all, that's the most likely place where she is. Second of all, if she has left there, Shelby can tell us if the direction changed. We can track her."

  Garrison shook his head. "Lots of variables. And no phone coverage out there."

  At the same time, Kerr and Shelby's heads swiveled toward each other.

  "Got it," they said together.

  "We're 'lost and found,' remember?" Shelby grinned.

  Kerr winked. "Twin brain!"

  "Talk English!" Vaughn roared.

  "I'll work with the maps while you are heading out," she said. "Should be able to get you a feature or location to aim toward, even if it's not the Brand ranch."

  Kerr pointed a thumb toward his sister. "And she can nudge me in the right direction."

  "With our link!" Shelby finished.

  "You know this how?" Garrison scowled.

  "Dude, how do you think we always won at capture the flag and hide and seek?" Kerr tipped his chin. "Teamwork."

  Eric
looked like he'd eaten a lemon. "But your brain, Shelby."

  "Like it can get worse."

  "Uh, that's not the right answer," he muttered.

  "It's going to have to work. And if it hurts you, Shelby, you have to break the connection and stop using your ability. We can go back to old-fashioned tracking. And rely on the fact that Kerr can't get lost." Garrison studied Vaughn's face. "We'll get her back, big brother."

  "So what's the game plan?" Vaughn struggled to focus.

  "Storm the castle." Kerr grinned at the horrified expressions. "What? Sounds good to me. Tell me a location. I'll get us there."

  His ability didn't allow him to find a person like Shelby's power did. But Kerr was right—he couldn't get lost. As long as he had an end point, he could spin in circles yet somehow find the place. Great plan, as long as Mariah was at the place they homed in on.

  Vaughn clapped his hands together. "Let's go."

  "Wait." Ruth's clear voice sliced through the energized air, stopping them all cold. She tilted her head, like she detected a scent. "Be ready for that creature. It's out there."

  "Done. What else?" Garrison motioned to her.

  She opened her mouth, then shut it. "That's all."

  "I just bet," Vaughn muttered.

  Eric stepped forward. "Want help?"

  "No. Stay here and keep everyone else safe," Garrison said.

  "I can come with you," Odie appeared next to Ruth and slid his arm around her waist.

  "No," she said.

  "Yes, cher. I will add my strength to theirs."

  Her eyes went wide. "But you're no longer im—"

  "Impressively good looking as you? Mon dieu, it's a cross you must bear, being around someone as hideous as me." His beard framed a rakish smile, and he kissed her on the forehead. "Well, gentlemen. What are we waiting for?"

  Ruth's smooth face went marble pale as she backed out of the living room. "I'll get Zach and Mr. Taggart sorted out for the evening."

  Garrison brushed a kiss over Sara's lips. "Be safe, please."

  Urgency drove Vaughn. In no time, they had the horses saddled and moving in the direction Kerr indicated. If the end point changed, they had only Shelby's ability to redirect them. A few miles into the National Forest, the cell phone signals wouldn't work well enough, even to get a text out.