Release Me (Storm Lords Book 3)

by Nina Croft

  “What is it, Papi?”

  “Come in. You have a visitor. I’m afraid bearing bad news.”

  She glanced down at herself. “Should I go clean up?”

  “No, child. He’s in the parlor. Just go on in.”

  “Are you not coming?”

  “I think he would like a few minutes alone with you and Jacob. I’ll be right here, though, if you need me.”

  She chewed on her lip. Sometimes she despaired of the never-changing routines of her life, but now she wished them back. She had no clue why, but she had a sense that everything was shifting. Her footsteps dragged as she walked slowly to the parlor door and turned the handle, pushed it open.

  A man stood with his back to her, staring out of the window. He would have no doubt seen them approaching. As the door clicked shut, he turned. She took a quick look and then lowered her eyes. He was old. Probably as old as her grandfather. Maybe seventy, tall and too thin. His eyes were gray and so were his skin and his hair. He wore a black suit, a white shirt, and a black tie.

  And a lot of bad feelings emanated from him. Rachel had to force herself not to take a step back. Not to take Jacob out of there and run and hide in the forest with the bears and the wolves. Where it was safe.

  He took a step toward her, coming to halt way too close, and held out his hand. “Hello, Rachel. You probably don’t remember me but I’m your grandfather.”

  She didn’t want to take the hand, but she made herself to reach out, slide her palm into his, half-expecting something bad to happen, an electric shock or…she was being fanciful—again. But his grip was firm and dry.

  He was a close family member, which meant the strict rules regarding males were relaxed. She raised her head and studied him, trying to work out where the sense of unease was coming from.

  “I remember you,” she said.

  Actually, he was one of the figures from her childhood nightmares, though she couldn’t remember him doing anything to earn that role. He was just a shadowy memory. But then, she’d been only four when her mother had left her father and returned to the life she’d run from. Run away a second time, in effect. First, from the restrictions of growing up in Haven, then from…Rachel didn’t know what had made her run from her husband.

  Growing up, she’d often asked about her father. After all, she was the only child in Haven who didn’t have a father—and her mom had said it was complicated and she would explain when Rachel was older. Except she’d died when Rachel was twelve, without ever telling her anything. Slipped and fallen into the river when it was swollen from the spring melt.

  Her grandfather still had hold of her hand, and she pulled free, resisting the urge to wipe her palm down her apron.

  Are you going to introduce us?” he asked, nodding to where Jacob clung to her skirt, half behind her as though he too could sense something wrong about the encounter. He was usually such an open boy.

  She put her hand on his shoulder and urged him forward. “This is Jacob. Jacob, say hello to your great-grandfather.”

  “Hello.” His voice was small.

  “Hello, Jacob. I hope we get to know each other better.”

  That didn’t sound good. She didn’t want to get to know this man. And she certainly didn’t want her son to have too much contact with him. Why had he turned up now? What had changed?

  “Perhaps you would like to leave us for a minute, Jacob. I need to speak to your mother alone.”

  Jacob’s hand tightened in hers, and he looked up at her, searching her face. She gave a small nod, and he let go and turned, but paused with his hand on the door handle, looking back over his shoulder. “Do you want me to stay, Mama?”

  She smiled and shook her head. “I’ll be fine, Jacob. Go find Papi.”

  He disappeared, closing the door behind him and leaving her alone with her grandfather.

  “He’s protective of you,” he said.

  “Yes. Since his father died.”

  She waited for some words of condolence, but they never came. He was studying her, his eyes narrowed, and she held herself very still.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “But I don’t know your name.”

  “Jeremy Danvers. Senator Danvers.”

  She didn’t know much about the world outside the settlement, and less about its politics, but she understood being a senator made him an important person.

  “But you must call me grandfather.”

  She didn’t want to. Didn’t want a reminder of how she was tied to this man. “How can I help you…grandfather?” She shrugged, feeling suddenly helpless. “I mean, it’s…nice to meet you after all this time. But why have you come now?”

  “I’m afraid I have bad news.”

  She’d been staring at the floor, more out of habit than need, now her gaze flew to his face. “What’s happened?” She couldn’t imagine what had brought him here.

  “Your father, my son Michael, died in a car accident two weeks ago.”

  Somehow, she hadn’t expected the words. She waited for some emotion, grief maybe. She had a vague memory of being fond of her father, but she hadn’t seen him in twenty years. In that time, he had made no attempt to contact her. Did he even know that her mother was dead? She’d once asked Papi about him, but he’d claimed her mother had told him nothing. Just that the marriage hadn’t worked out, that she’d feared for her daughter in that environment, and so she’d come home.

  Michael Danvers.

  That was her father’s name.

  How strange that she was hearing it for the first time in so many years. Now it had been spoken, she remembered it from long ago.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “That must have been painful for you. Losing a child is the hardest thing a parent can experience.” A wave of grief washed through her, familiar, but she had no clue from where. A pain so deep, it pierced her heart. She swallowed, forced the feeling down.

  “He was my only child,” he said. “His death was a blow.”

  “Thank you for coming to tell me. It was…kind.”

  Why did she think kindness had not been part of his decision to come here? A flicker of foreboding nudged at her. That sense her life was about to change. Or was, if this man had any say in the matter. And she didn’t want her life to change. She loved it here, felt as though she was safe and belonged. And while many of their ways were restrictive, and she believed, deep down, unnecessary and unfair, she also had a freedom she was sure she wouldn’t find in the outside world. Her mother had sometimes spoken of it. The cities and the people. So many people.

  “Perhaps not entirely kind,” he said. “The truth is, I didn’t even know I had a great-grandson until I was going through your father’s papers.” He pursed his thin lips. “Are you aware that your father employed an organization to find you and your mother after she left?” Shock flashed through her at that. He had? But why had he never tried to contact them? She shook her head, and he continued. “Even up to his death, he received a monthly report on your circumstances.”

  “I didn’t know.” Why, when he clearly wanted nothing to do with them? And how? Had he had people spying on them? A shiver prickled across her skin.

  “Neither did I. I thought he had moved on from his youthful infatuation with your mother.” He studied her, his head cocked to one side. “He married again. Divorce was never an option—we’re Catholics—but after your mother died, he married the daughter of a family friend. They never had children.”

  “I’m sorry.” She kept saying that, but she had no clue what else to say. She just wished, now he’d told her his news, that he would leave them and never come back.

  “Well, you can imagine my pleasure when I learned about Jacob.”

  She went still, her hands grasping the material of her skirt as though she sensed danger. “Jacob?”

  “Yes. I felt as though I had another chance.” Another chance at what? “I would like Jacob to come and live with me in Washington, DC.”

  She took a step back before she
could stop herself. Something warned her to show no weakness where this man was concerned.

  “And yourself, of course. It will be an adjustment after the life you have lived here, but I gather from the reports that you’re an intelligent woman.” He smiled. “That was a relief. There was some concern when you were a child of…abnormalities. You were a strange little thing.” His gaze wandered over her, and her skin crawled. “You’ve grown into a beautiful woman. I’m sure with a little guidance you can be an asset to the family.”

  Her tongue seemed stuck to the roof of her dry mouth. Was he crazy? But he looked perfectly serious. He expected her to leave her home and go live with him? In the city?

  When she didn’t speak, he frowned. “I have a dinner this evening, and I need to get back to DC. You won’t require clothes—you’ll get new things, obviously. But if there’s anything you want to take, I suggest you fetch it now.”

  Now?

  He expected her to go with him now?

  She cleared her throat. “I thank you for your kindness, grandfather, and for bringing me the sad news of my father. But my home is here. Jacob’s home is here. We have no wish to move to the city.”

  “Don’t be foolish. I’m offering you an escape from this place. A better life, a—”

  “I like my life here.”

  “You just don’t know anything different.”

  “I’m not entirely ignorant of the outside world, and I have no wish to live there. I love it here. Jacob is happy.” She forced a smile. He was Jacob’s great-grandfather, after all. “If you wish to visit us and get to know Jacob, you are always welcome in our home.”

  Something dark flashed in his eyes. “You think I’m going to make another trip to this godforsaken place?”

  He took a few deep breaths and brought himself under control. Then he smiled, an expression not reflected in his eyes. “Wouldn’t you like some pretty clothes? Nice things? You’re a beautiful woman—you could have anything you wanted if you play it right.”

  “I have everything I want right here.”

  “Think of your son. What life can he have here? I can offer him the best schools and the finest education money can buy. You owe it to him.”

  “I owe it to my son to bring him up to be a good, god-fearing man.”

  His nostrils flared. “Look, girl, I’m offering you and your son a life most people only dream of. Now, get your things and your son. We’re leaving in five minutes.”

  Never.

  She backed away until her shoulders hit the door. Reaching blindly behind her for the handle, she turned it. “I thank you again.” She opened the door and slipped out. After closing it behind her, she stood for a moment, breathing hard as though she’d been running. Jacob stood in the kitchen door, wide-eyed. She held out her hand. He ran across the room and took it, and she hurried him up the stairs to their room, slamming the door closed and crossing to the window.

  Five minutes later, she heard the sound of engines. She peered around the edge of the curtain and watched as the cars pulled away and disappeared down the drive in a cloud of dust.

  The tight band around her chest loosened.

  But she couldn’t get rid of the niggling doubt that she hadn’t heard the last of Senator Danvers.

  Chapter 3

  In the two days since the senator’s visit, Rachel hadn’t been able to rid herself of the sense of unease. She’d kept Jacob close to her over the weekend, and slowly her nerves had settled. She’d spoken to Jacob, told him of the offer of a new home. She’d felt it was her duty to inform him, and maybe when he was older, if he wanted to, he could visit his great-grandfather. Though that was many years away. He’d been unequivocal in his response. He didn’t want a new home. He liked this one, and he would never leave his papi.

  She had no doubt the senator would try again. He’d seemed so determined. Almost irrationally so. But she would stand firm, and he couldn’t force her to move to the city.

  This morning she’d sent Jacob off to school and afterward, she’d sneaked off to the peace of the forest. She’d probably get in trouble for it later, but she’d spent the morning walking the woodland trails, breathing in the familiar scent of pine and flowers, soaking in the warm sunshine.

  As she often did, she had the feeling of being watched. But it was benign and made her feel safe. She’d finally shaken off the last of her worries. The midday mealtime was approaching, and she should move. Instead, she lay in the sun-dappled shade of a clearing, staring up at the blue sky.

  A branch snapped, the sharp, alien noise bringing her upright. Another. Something was moving through the forest. Something that didn’t belong. Clumsy and heavy. She pushed herself to her feet and glanced around. Nothing was out of place, but she couldn’t shift the sense of wrongness.

  The sounds came from the direction of the house. Part of her knew she should head for the safety of home and company. But she couldn’t make herself take a step in that direction. She wavered, searching the shadowy forest for an answer. Where to go? As she stood, her breath coming sharp and fast, a man stepped out of the trees. A stranger, dressed unlike any of their people, in a dark suit. The sense of wrongness intensified. She looked down, her gaze snagging on the gun in his hand. He took a step toward her as a second man appeared a few feet to his left.

  Finally, she whirled around and ran.

  The trees whipped by her, the branches catching at her clothes. She lost her cap, but kept going, her hair flying loose behind her. She had no clue where she was heading, just that she had to put as much space between her and the men as possible. She tripped over a tree root, stumbled, righted herself, and ran on. She couldn’t hear anything behind her, all sounds drowned out by the thud of her heart, her harsh breathing.

  As she reached the banks of the river, she skidded to a halt. The water was slow-moving, deep and dark, and horror filled her mind. She glanced back over her shoulder. They were hidden by the trees, but she could still hear them, blundering through the forest. She looked to the left, but that led to open meadow with nowhere to hide.

  Nothing would make her enter that water. She’d rather face an endless number of guns.

  She forced her breathing to slow. Who were they? Maybe nothing to do with her. Hunters perhaps. But hunters in suits?

  “Stay where you are.” The man stepped from beneath the shadows of the trees, the gun held in front of him. “We don’t mean you any harm. Just come with us, Mrs. Miller.”

  They knew who she was. She could feel the gun aimed at her, and her gaze darted left and right, searching for a way out. She took a step back, felt the edge of the riverbank behind her, and froze. He approached her slowly, and she stared like a deer caught by a hunter.

  The sensation of wrongness washed over her, intensifying. Coalescing inside her. Without thought, her feet moved, taking her backward. The bank crumbled, and she fell, screaming, her hands reaching at nothing.

  She crashed into the water, went under, and came up flailing. Under again, her heavy skirts dragging her down. She’d never learned to swim. Her mouth opened and filled with water, and she sank, the darkness closing over her head. She was going to die.

  Her lungs were screaming for air, but she kept sinking, the darkness encroaching.

  And suddenly, she was back in another time, another place. A nightmare that had haunted her childhood but was always gone before she woke.

  The water was icy cold, so cold it snatched her breath away. She struggled to keep Marcus’s head above the water, one hand holding his petrified body, the other scrabbling for a handhold on the smooth rock wall. The well was deep and narrow. Her mind scrambled to make sense of what had happened. They’d come for her. Her own people. They said she’d broken the laws of God. That she must pay. She’d broken no laws. Unless falling in love was a law. But why did her baby have to pay? He was innocent. Only six years old.

  She held him closer. Up above she could hear the murmur of the crowd, see the circle of light. Then it was gone, leavin
g her in stygian darkness, and she knew they’d covered the well and she was going to die here. She held him as long as she could, as the cold gnawed into her bones, and his little body went still and lifeless, and despair filled her. God had forsaken her. She was being punished for a crime she knew nothing of. The water was dragging her down. It was closing over her head, cold and dark, and her lungs were on fire. There was something she hadn’t done, something she needed to say, and she didn’t want to die…

  ***

  A scream shattered the peace of the forest, and Finn went still. Then he raced flat-out toward the sound.

  What the hell had happened? He’d spent most of the morning watching her from the cover of the trees. He’d finally left her drowsing in the forest glade, unable to remain close and not go to her. And that couldn’t happen. He’d done what he came here for—checked that she was safe, and now he needed to leave her. Let her have her life.

  He could only bring her death.

  He’d been padding away, meaning to check in with Brandon and the pack before he left to head back to London and out of temptation’s way. She didn’t need him.

  Except something had happened.

  As he raced through the forest, he caught the scent of strangers and increased his speed. The scream hadn’t come again, and that filled him with foreboding. Panic ratcheted his heart rate until it was about to burst from his body. He reached the edge of the river, skidded to a halt. Two men stood on the bank, staring at something below them.

  He followed their gaze. At first, he saw nothing, then an arm reached up out of the dark water.

  Not happening.

  Without thinking, he dived in and swam toward her. She went under again, and for a moment he couldn’t see her, couldn’t find her. At last, a small, pale hand emerged and was gone. He dived under, his jaws catching on the material of her clothes, and he dragged her to the surface.