He hugged her, tried to probe her soul, but didn’t want to force the issue. He kissed her forehead. “Lie down, try to rest.”
She nodded.
When he came up two hours later to check on her, she was sound asleep and hadn’t stirred. By eleven o’clock that night, Laura Martin had gone to bed while Will, Ryan, Aidan, and Jeff quietly talked in the kitchen.
Will wrapped his hands around a steaming mug of hot tea. “I don’t know how to help her,” he admitted. “I don’t know what to do.”
“Let the shock wear off,” Aidan suggested. “She’s flat worn out, physically and mentally. Give her a few days to recover her energy. I’m not saying she’ll bounce back. I’m just saying I think she’s dealing the best way she knows how.”
Ryan nodded. “Aidan’s right.”
Aidan’s eyes widened in shock. “Someone write that down.”
“What?” Jeff asked.
Will smiled, but it looked tired. “Ryan admitted Aidan was right about something.”
The men softly laughed.
Will finished his tea. “I need to go up there to her. Thank you, guys, seriously, for all of this. I appreciate it. Especially you, Ryan.”
“Write that one down,” Ryan gently snarked with a smile.
Jeff didn’t ask out loud, but his face scrunched up questioningly. Aidan answered his silent question. “Will thanking Ryan. Who’d a thunk?”
* * * *
Bera watched them bury Kal’s father while standing downwind and at a prudent distance from the main funeral gathering. She’d shifted to look like one of the groundskeepers. With the Stooges’ attention on Kal and her mother, they didn’t notice her.
Obviously, with the latest events, unless she got a “donation” from Will or Aidan, she had to find a way to coerce Ryan into doing it. That really put a kink in her plans. Back to the fucking drawing board.
She shook her head in disgust. All these years, and now he picks to settle down.
Her fucking dumb luck.
Scratch that plan then.
With Ryan around his soul brothers, it would be difficult to sneak her way in. This would require additional planning. Fortunately, she’d taken a few precautions, had a backup hideout. Thank the gods for her cousins in the Selkie Clan. No love lost between them, but Bera had pressed them to fulfill their Clan obligation to help her.
Well, not help. At least they put her up so Ryan couldn’t easily sniff her out. Bera had heard rumors he’d called in Enforcers to track her. If that was the case, time was even shorter than she imagined. She might have to…
A new idea formed. Maybe she could use this to her advantage. Because of Boorman’s influence, she now had the ability to cross through several realms. If she could draw at least one of the Stooges over, she might be able to lay a trap.
That was worth looking into.
She stepped behind a tree and disappeared.
* * * *
The Selkie, Cyadna, looked up from her stove when Bera appeared on her hearth. “Oh. You’re back.” She’d reluctantly agreed to let Bera use her house for a crossing point from Tavares to Earth when Bera invoked Clan ties. The last thing Cyadna wanted was a Tanuki troublemaker darkening her door, but it was that or risk having Boorman’s wrath unleashed on her family.
Bera glared at her. “Look, missy. Don’t fuck with me. You know Boorman’s the winning team in this game. You guys need to side with him instead of the Council.” Bera stepped off the stones and wiped at a smudge on the toe of her red pumps. “Tavares is about to experience a change in leadership. It wouldn’t hurt you to follow me and hedge your bets.”
Bera headed for the door. “And I don’t have to tell you to keep your mouth shut about this, do I?”
“Of course not.” Cyadna wished she could wipe the smug smirk off Bera’s face with a cast-iron skillet.
Bera left, slamming the door behind her.
Cyadna seethed. She’d always hated Bera and her ilk. She resented Bera’s pressure to go along with this. It wouldn’t keep the peace. It would only put her family and Clan on the wrong end of a bad battle.
She turned off the gas under the burner and wiped her hands on her apron. On Tavares, Selkies lived mostly on land, albeit close to water. Earth-residing Clan frequently reversed that trend, preferring the freedom of their other form. Then again, when residing on-Earth they could easily shift form at will instead of being limited to full moons, as on Tavares.
Cyadna knew of others of her kind who quietly wanted to stay out of the war. They wanted to openly support the Council, but Boorman’s rapidly expanding power base and vicious means of keeping order would spell their doom if he took full control.
Perhaps she’d need an on-Earth crossing of her own to make some plans. First, she’d need to gather her people behind her.
She stepped onto her hearth stones and muttered the incantation to take her to her sister’s hearth.
* * * *
Two days later, Bera showed up on Cyadna’s hearth again. How she’d crossed over on-Earth in the first place wasn’t Cyadna’s concern. Bera was a little tipsy.
“Hey, girlfriend!” Bera’s grin chilled Cyadna’s soul. This woman was pure evil, but killing her would only bring Boorman’s wrath directly on her Clan.
Then inspiration struck. “Want some mead?” Cyadna offered.
Bera brightened. “Absolutely! Don’t have to ask me twice!” She stumbled off the hearth and over to the table, where Cyadna filled a bierkrug and slid it in front of her. Bera slurped the mead. “This is great! Do you know how fucking great this is?”
“The mead?”
“No!” Bera looked disgusted at Cyadna’s obtuseness. “My plan! Everything’s nearly complete. I’m trying to track down a couple of people here on Tavares to help, but it’ll work this time.”
Despite her urge to throw up, Cyadna sat across from Bera and smiled. “You know, you never did tell me your plan. I thought about what you said the other day. You’re right. I don’t want my family to be on the losing end of this. What do we need to do to stay alive and be left alone?”
The drunk Tanuki grinned. “Now you’re talkin’!” Bera launched into a full explanation of her scheme while Cyadna forced a smile and kept Bera’s mead topped off. By the time Bera finished an hour later, she’d drained all of the mead in the house keg, confirmed most of Cyadna’s suspicions, and cemented the Selkie’s resolve to not let Bera and Boorman’s plot go unchallenged.
She also strongly suspected Boorman was only using Bera for a bit of personal revenge. She’d heard a lot of quietly whispered rumors about how Boorman received his horrific scars and why he never personally crossed on-Earth anymore. Without any proof, she wouldn’t repeat those suspicions.
Bera squinted at the old timepiece on the wall. “Holy crap, it’s that late? I need to go talk to Boorman and tell him what’s up!” She stumbled as she got to her feet, then walked around the table and slapped Cyadna on the back. “Thanks again, cuz. You’re the greatest!” Bera somehow stayed upright as she weaved out the front door.
Alone again, Cyadna stared at her ceiling and blew out a long breath. She would most likely have to give up her home, and her realm, but it was better to do that than to have her people wiped out by a prick with a personality disorder and a raging case of revenge gone bad. Or live with the guilt of more innocent blood spilled when she could have helped stopped it.
Crap.
She tossed the empty bierkrug into the fire and listened as it shattered. Like she would drink out of it again after that Tanuki had used it. How many innocents had to die for Bera’s sickening cause? Bera had already been the instigator of one woman’s death, and it apparently meant nothing to her. Considering she’d also confessed she was willing to murder any children that might challenge her as-yet-to-be-conceived line heir, the woman was certifiably evil in Cyadna’s opinion. Boorman had already well proven his disregard for life many times over.
Cyadna glanced around her home agai
n. She might as well enjoy it while she had it. She might not have it much longer.
She set about making preparations.
* * * *
Kal didn’t want to return to Tampa. Three days after the funeral, her mother insisted. “Honey, it’s over. I’m all right. You’re a phone call away, and you have to get on with your life.”
Will watched but offered no opinion. Frankly, he didn’t know what was right. His instincts told him to go with Laura’s recommendation.
Kal shook her head. “Mom, you need me!”
“No, you need to get back to work. It’s what your father would have wanted.” She hugged her daughter. “Maybe in a month or so I can come down to visit, if that would be okay?”
Will sensed Kal verged on tears, but then she withdrew again, reinforcing the shell around her soul.
“Okay, if you’re sure.”
Laura smiled. “I’m sure.” She turned to Will. “Take her home and get started on your life together.” She winked. “And grandchildren.”
* * * *
Ryan willed himself to stay away from Kal. If he was needed, Will would call him. He felt every shred of her grief through the depths of his own soul, wished he could personally hold and comfort her.
She’s not mine.
That was his silent mantra.
He was at home in Atlanta one evening, reading, when a person appeared even through the barrier he’d erected. He didn’t look up from his book as he set his glass of merlot on the table. “You don’t take hints to stay away very well, do you?” She was one of the few who could pierce his barrier.
He heard her soft sigh, felt her walk over to the couch and stand behind him.
He still didn’t turn.
“You’re a rather melancholy boy, aren’t you?”
“I don’t wish to discuss this, Mother.” He struggled to focus on the printed page before him.
She gently laid her hands on her son’s shoulders. “So much pain in your soul. Doesn’t it wear you out?”
He closed his eyes. “What part of ‘I don’t wish to discuss this’ wasn’t clear?” Persephone was like good mothers everywhere, through time immemorial. They hated seeing their children suffer.
He finally looked at her as she walked around the sofa and sat in one of the chairs. In her current appearance, she looked like a middle-aged, albeit well-preserved woman, dark blonde hair gently piled on her head. Jeans and a button-up shirt hanging over her pants. A fishing-guide shirt, he realized.
Her blue eyes pierced through him. “Amiago, why do you insist on putting yourself through this suffering?”
He slammed the book closed. “Mother, this isn’t exactly a conversation I’d like to have.”
“Which is exactly why we’re having it. I’ve stayed out of your affairs for quite a while now, you must admit. I even understood why you felt the need to walk away from Arnau and Aidan, and I promised I wouldn’t interfere there, either. This is really too much, don’t you think?”
“What would you have me do?” he roared.
She didn’t flinch, didn’t draw back, used to the men in her family putting on a good and angry display from time to time. “I would have you be happy. You were happy once, remember?”
“Yes.” Gods knew it had been countless eons ago, it felt like.
“Take another soul mate. Move on with your life.”
“I can’t.”
“You can and you damn well know it!” She stood and paced the living room. “You just don’t want to!”
“Why would I? She’s the woman I love, the only woman I love. Why would I want to take another?”
“Why didn’t you take her when you had the chance?”
“I couldn’t let Will die, Mother.” He threw the book across the room. “Was I supposed to let my soul brother die so I could be happy? How would that not taint my own bond with her, even had I done it?”
She sadly shook her head. “You always were a stubborn child.”
“You didn’t come here to discuss my love life, did you?”
“No.” She sat on the coffee table in front of him. “Well, yes. Actually, I did. I’m your mother. I can feel your pain, you know.”
He set his jaw and glared at her. “You have no earthly idea how much pain I’m in on a daily basis. Don’t you dare attempt to sympathize with me and pretend to understand what I’ve gone through.”
* * * *
Persephone realized this wasn’t going the way she’d hoped. She’d promised her husband not to let the cat out of the bag. It would only make things worse if she did.
A lot worse.
“Amiago,” she pleaded, “this isn’t healthy for you. Your father and I are concerned for you.”
“It’s much appreciated,” he said through gritted teeth.
She sighed. “You stubborn, hardheaded child.” She stood. “Just like your father.”
“Good-bye, Mother.”
Persephone returned home to their beach house on Boca Grande. Her husband was stretched out asleep on the couch, Wheel of Fortune on the TV. They’d spent all day out in the boat, fishing for tarpon. Hades had made her promise not to get involved in Ami’s life, to let their son run The Firm and his personal affairs after her first plan had so epically failed. It was too difficult for her to watch Ami’s perpetual sorrow without getting involved.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this. And dammit, yes, she felt guilty she’d only compounded his grief.
She went to take a shower, letting the hot spray wash the salty residue, smell of bait and sunscreen off her skin. Ami should be happy now, having children.
Grandchildren.
They’d been sworn to secrecy by him, to never reveal the truth to Aidan. That pain pierced her own soul. That their grandson never had a chance to live.
She grabbed the scrubbie and bodywash and lathered up. Her plan had been perfect. Once she had found and traced Chloe’s soul, she had waited for her to die again, then engineered her birth into another human. Amiago would go to the village, meet the girl, and fall in love with her immediately. How much simpler could it get?
Hades gave them the bullshit assignment. Easy. Ami would go to the village, the other two on a scouting mission.
But no. Ami had stayed with Aidan and told Arnau—Will was his name now, she reminded herself—to go in his place.
Gods, how such a stupid mistake could cause so much pain!
When Ami showed up at their home that very evening, after Will had introduced him to his new soul mate, Persephone had realized the horrific blunder and ignored her husband’s scathing glare.
And then…
She finished her shower and toweled herself, putting on a nightgown. Maybe Hades was right. Maybe she should have left well enough alone. But how was a mother supposed to ignore her child’s anguish and not get involved?
Chapter Twenty
Will worried about Kal after they returned to Tampa. Once the initial shock of Kenneth’s death started to wear off, Kal slipped into a deep depression Will feared might take her over. Even Kal’s mom seemed to handle losing her husband better than Kal was taking things.
Two weeks after her father’s death, Kal barely spoke, barely ate. Didn’t cry. Will tried to coax her into talking, but all she would do if they weren’t working was curl up and go to sleep. At work she wasn’t much more responsive than a zombie, and had turned a lot of her show duties over to Jeff.
One evening, after she’d once again fallen asleep, Will stepped into the living room and softly spoke.
“Ryan, appareo.”
He appeared immediately, looking concerned. “What’s wrong?”
Will nodded toward the back sliders and they stepped out onto the lanai. Will motioned him to a chair. “It’s Kal.”
Ryan sighed and took a seat. “She’s not dealing with this well, is she?”
Will shook his head. “I don’t know what to do.”
Ryan carefully considered his answer. After a long moment, he spoke. �
�I don’t wish to overstep your boundaries. What, exactly, are you asking of me?”
“Is there anything you can do to help her?”
“I could talk with her, if that’s what you mean.”
“That’s what I mean.”
“You don’t mind?”
Will studied the ground. “She’s in pain. I can’t seem to help her. If you can, I won’t be mad about that.” He finally met Ryan’s steady gaze. “I know the two of you are close. I already told you it’s okay. It’s…” He sighed. “It’s like you and Abby were. If you can talk to her and help her through this, I’d be very grateful.”
Ryan slowly nodded. “All right then. I didn’t want to cause friction between us.”
“I know that. I appreciate it.” He leaned back in his chair and laced his hands behind his head. “I get the impression Kal knows more about what’s going on in your head than I do. Maybe about the past.”
Ryan forced his expression to stay neutral. “Do you?”
“She says I shouldn’t be mad at you for the past. That maybe you had your reasons. That maybe they were good reasons I don’t need to know.”
Ryan examined a hangnail on his finger. “Does she now?”
“She does.” Will closed his eyes. “Do I want to know why you left us?” he softly asked.
Ryan froze. “She’s correct. I had my reasons. My position in The Firm doesn’t always allow me the luxury of explanations to others. Not even to my soul brothers. I’m sorry.”
They sat in silence for a while, listening to crickets sounding off near the back fence in the yard. Will eventually spoke again.
“I hated you for a lot of years.”
“I know.”
Will’s jaw clenched. “You were our soul brother. I loved you. I would have died for you without hesitation, and you walked out on us.”
“I know,” Ryan softly replied.
“That’s all you can say?”
“What do you want me to say, Will?” he angrily shot back. “I was not at liberty to explain my actions. It’s not like I wanted to leave.”
Dalton, Tymber - Good Will Ghost Hunting: Hell's Bells [Good Will Ghost Hunting 2] (Siren Publishing Classic) Page 21
