Lana's Calling: A Golden Hills Legacy Novel

by Nancy Glynn

  “So, Eric knows I’m Bessie and he’s Leon? What is he planning to do with Diana?”

  “Today when I was speaking about the Dead Tree, he believed it meant Diana…at first. But then I think something in your eyes scared him, making him think it was him. I gave your mother the choice to pick the day Dane died on that tree. I’m giving you the same opportunity. It’s either Eric or Diana.”

  She stood, shaking, almost falling to the floor, her eyes small slits of hatred for this…man.

  “What’s wrong? Now that you know who you and Eric are, you don’t want to kill him? I know it’s a lot to take, but it really should be easy.”

  “Easy? Murder should never be easy, you disgusting piece of filth.”

  “Oh, come now. That’s not what you said the night I first came to your room. You were twenty-one and ready for me—”

  “Stop,” she said hoarsely. “I can’t take it anymore. Please.”

  “That boy your father caught you with in your bed, underneath you, enjoying your luscious body, was me. Of course, I made myself into his stud-like appearance. Even when Christian walked in, you kept moving against me, blissed out. Torn between stopping and continuing to reach your…goal. When your father finally found his words, he made his threat but with a weak voice. He was tortured from the sight of his beautiful daughter in carnal ecstasy and angry at the same time. His sweet baby girl was no more. What he saw was a woman. He cried himself to sleep that night, you know. He felt like he’d lost his little girl. His sweet little Lana girl.”

  “I…hate…you.”

  “No, you don’t. Deep down you love me, always have.” He stood and walked around to her side, pulling her up against his body, his eyes that golden yellow. He sniffed her throat. “But you still need to make a decision.”

  “Neither, then,” she murmured against his face.

  Looking into her eyes now, he said, “Then you must fulfil your destiny. Go to Drake and make your grandfather happy. It’s what you really want, isn’t it?”

  She could feel his excitement grow against her hip. Choking back tears, she said, “Let me write my own destiny. How can I erase William’s?”

  “You must pick.”

  “And then it erases forever?”

  “You smell wonderful,” he whispered.

  “Jack!”

  “Fresh as a daisy.”

  “Is that supposed to be a hint? You want Eric alive?”

  “I never give hints, but…the word is in Diana’s name.”

  “I can’t…she’s like a sister to me. Please, Jack.”

  “I see how this is hard on you, baby. I’m not that big of a monster.” He cupped her face and kissed her nose.

  “I thought we had already made a deal for Debra’s life, that I’d take Eric’s,” she pleaded.

  “So you choose Eric. Either way, it has to be one. I thought that’d make things easier, not forcing you to kill your family friend, a man you call Uncle, a man you used to call your lover. That’s what those dreams were that you and Eric were battling, old memories. I’m actually looking out for you.” He licked her earlobe, flicking it back and forth. “By giving you two choices.”

  “I thought you wanted Eric gone?”

  “Not anymore. I can actually use him in my army. I need good men like him, good men who’ll kill without blinking an eye.”

  “That’s not good.”

  “It is in my world.” His tongue trailed down her throat and then back up to her mouth, sliding it inside to her dead tongue. “Play with me, Lana,” he warned.

  She reluctantly moved her tongue against his, hearing that low animal growl in his throat. “Fine. I made a choice,” she said, anything to distract him.

  “Oh, goody! You don’t have to say it out loud now, pressing it into the real world. Do it at the ceremony after they make their vows. That way everyone’s surprised,” he said, pulling away. “Thanks for the drinks, my love. Too bad it couldn’t end in your bed, but you have to invite me there.”

  “Changing your ways, Jack?”

  He laughed and walked to the door. “Maybe I am. I like a woman compliant in bed. It bruises the ego if I have to force her. One day, you’ll come to me and be very willing, even with Hunter in your life, the lucky bastard. I do have to say, though, that even with writing your own destiny down might not erase everything on William’s list. There’s some things you cannot change that have nothing to do with a list but was written in the stars. I still can’t promise you what you want.”

  “It’s a chance I’ll take then. And I will never invite you to my bed, just so we’re clear.” She slammed the door on him with one glare, knowing he probably vanished on his own beyond it anyway. It gave her the satisfaction.

  Even though she knew the truth about Eric as Leon, she still wanted to see his list. He had told her to look in the nightstand. She turned off the light and closed the door to head to his room.

  As she climbed the stairs, Diana’s face loomed in front of her, happy Diana, innocent Diana. She sank to the bottom step and cried for her friend. Instead of it being Black Twenty-One, it would be Black Wedding Day, and she would be behind it.

  The thought of just ending her own life ran rabid in her mind and seemed like a good solution in this moment of hell, a solution that would save two people who had a future together, and maybe future children. But then she remembered what Eric wanted, to sacrifice Diana for his own selfish needs and fears. Needs that probably had nothing to do with her dire situation, but his own.

  Upon standing and continuing her way up the stairs, the huge chandelier behind her came crashing down, glass flying everywhere, her anger in every one of the shards. She silently moved on, her head held high, until she reached the landing without so much as a glance toward the sparkling spectacle in the foyer.

  And there it was, the portrait with what might be in the stars, her destiny shining her in the face. A family painting of her sitting next to a white bassinet with a somber smile, and the tall, handsome blond man next to her, a wide grin, his hand on her shoulder…Drake. That wasn’t what even frightened her the most. What put hard, cold fear in her blood was what was embroidered on the cradle.

  “Oh, my God,” she said, grabbing her throat. Sweat broke out with a dizzy spell. The picture of the black inverted cross brought a bile so thick to her mouth, she had a difficult time swallowing it.

  Her eyes tracked to the portrait next to it, her grandfather sitting at his desk, an evil grin slicing his face open. It came to life for a moment, his head nodding toward her, and head falling back in a raucous laugh, echoing in the house, mixed with Drake’s chuckling in their picture, and tears sliding down her face as she rocked the cradle.

  Next to that portrait was one of the fair-haired couple with a blond-haired little boy between them, his blue eyes dead-set at the painter, void of expression, love, or happiness.

  She couldn’t allow that to happen. That was not to be her destiny. Knowing she had no choice but to pick one of her friends to be hanged, she knew what she must do.

  Placing her hands on the portrait of her future family, she tried to pull it off the wall, but it must’ve been nailed. She stood back and willed it to come off, but it wouldn’t budge. Giving up, she walked to it and spit instead, a big hock of phlegm on Drake’s smug face.

  After she walked away, she went to William’s bedroom door and opened it. Everything in the room levitated, from the bed to the dressers, all dancing in the air, hovering over the floor. She closed her eyes, and the furniture collapsed in a thunderous bang.

  Eric’s room was next, down the hall. Thinking about the list, she pushed open the door and stepped inside, closing it softly behind her. She eyed the empty tables and dressers. Opening the top drawer of his nightstand, she found the Lolita book again, but with paper sticking out of it this time.

  She sat on the bed and held the book, hesitating before slowly sliding the stark white folded paper out. Her heart pounded, feeling a pit in her stomach, befo
re opening the paper. A thud in the hall made her stop, listening for more sound, but only silence sliced the air.

  The wording was similar to William’s, but much shorter. She scanned it, confirming Jack’s warning of Eric’s wishes.

  · To be immortal with Lana Stone (Bessie York) and run Golden Hills

  · To give up old life to be with Lana

  · To be wealthy

  · To give Lana the heir to run the next generation of Stone Manor

  · To be part of Jack’s army

  · To be the high priest alongside Lana (my Bessie)

  Folding it back to how it was, she slid it in the book and returned it to the drawer. She stood and quietly walked to the door, pressing her ear against it to check for sound. Hearing none, she opened the door and slipped out, silently running to her room at the end of the hall.

  Inside, she leaned against her door and exhaled. If she let Eric live, she’d be fulfilling his wish list, a thought that repulsed her, so how could she let him live? If she let Diana live, there was still that chance she’d be betrothed to Drake. She didn’t know which was worse.

  A howl sang through the night, long and soulful, whispering to her, echoing to her heart. She knew it had to be her wolf. A wolf that seemed to guard her. It pulled her to the window, allowing her to catch a glimpse of his yellow eyes before running off into the lush greenery.

  “How did you get assigned to me, my sweet wolf?” she said to the window. It was strange, but no matter what nightmarish situation she was in, she felt a sense of protection from this creature, like she wasn’t alone in this.

  She walked to the desk with the old-fashioned accordion cabinet and rolled it open. She sat at the desk and extracted the pen from her pocket, sliding a piece of paper out, and thought for a moment before she started to write.

  Chapter 14

  As Lana stepped into the musty-smelling older building, she approached the counter for assistance. “Hello, I’m here to see my grandmother, Marissa Paul,” Lana stated to the young woman behind the desk of Lincoln Park Sunrise Nursing Center.

  She looked up, popping her gum, and smiled. “Oh, sure. I know of you.”

  “You do?”

  “Yeah, you’re Ms. Stone, the teacher at Lincoln State High School, or used to be. My younger sister goes there. Let me see if Mrs. Paul is able to have visitors. She hasn’t been feeling well lately, but she is getting up there. Have a seat,” she said, gesturing to the dusty old furniture that needed TLC or repair or to just be thrown out.

  A bone-rail elderly gentleman shuffled past her, hunched over, holding onto his walker.

  “Mr. Hendricks, the recreation room is the other way,” the girl called out to him.

  “Huh?”

  “The other way,” she said, pointing in the direction.

  “I think you want to go the other way, sir. Here, let me help you.” Lana helped turn the walker around.

  “Oh, thank you very much.” He continued on his journey.

  “Thanks. He doesn’t hear too well, gets lost all the time, poor thing.”

  “No problem.” Lana sat and pulled her phone out to give her something to do. She noticed the older editions on the coffee table and worried now about the establishment in which her great-grandmother lived. It was nothing like how her mother described, charming and neat.

  “It’s your lucky day! She just took a bath and finishing up her meal. It’ll be about ten minutes. Help yourself to the coffee there.”

  Eyeing the rusted coffee Carafate, she passed and returned to her phone.

  Another family came in with a couple of kids, excited to see their grandpa. They sat across from her, playing with the magazines.

  “Don’t stare, Amelia. It’s not polite,” the embarrassed mother, dressed in her Sunday best, whispered to her young daughter.

  The girl continued to stare, making Lana squirm in her seat. She gave up and waved to the girl, smiling.

  The girl’s eyes widened. “Mama, that ghost just waved at me!”

  “What’re you talking about now? There’s no ghost, just a nice lady. Stop it right now.” The pretty mother adjusted her pillbox hat and made her daughter sit closer to her.

  “But Mama…”

  “Amelia, that’s enough,” the father now chimed in. He was very stylish in his gray jacket and matching Stetson hat, a little outdated for her taste, but it worked for him.

  “Yeah, Millie, cool it!” her older brother scolded.

  “That’s okay. She’s just curious,” Lana said, coming to the child’s aid.

  “Ms. Stone, she’s all ready for you,” the young girl said, giving her a strange look.

  As Lana approached the desk, the girl continued to cock her brow at her, making her laugh. “May I ask why you’re looking at me like that? Did I do something?”

  “Um, it’s just that I saw you talking to yourself over there.”

  “What?” Lana’s head whipped toward the family and found it empty. “There was a family sitting there, I swear!”

  “She’s waiting for you. Just follow Mike, and he’ll show you the way,” the girl said, treating her like she was a senile patient there.

  “I swear…” She followed a volunteer, looking back to see if they would reappear.

  When he pushed the door open, Marissa sat in her wheelchair next to her bed, her oxygen tank attached. Her eyes still sparkled in all their violet splendor, embedded in a cracked face full of more wrinkles from the last time she had seen her. Gray hair hung down her front, just freshly washed and brushed. She gave a wide toothless smile, forgetting to put her dentures in.

  Framed pictures of her grandfather as a boy, as a priest, and then of her mother and father at their wedding, and then with baby Lana and Lana’s college graduation, all adorned the table.

  “Hi, Granny. How’re you feeling?” Lana knelt before her knobby knees barely covered by the nightgown. She grabbed her hands, feeling like they would break apart into a million bony fragments.

  “Let me look at you, child. You’re as pretty, if not prettier than your mother,” she croaked from all those years of heavy smoking. “What brings you?”

  “What, I can’t visit you for no reason?”

  “What brings you?”

  Lana sighed and stood, taking the chair in front of her. “I’m at a loss for what to do in my life. Now I’m seeing things…”

  “What things?”

  “I swear I saw a family out in the waiting room, but…”

  “Oh, you met the Johnsons. They come around here a lot.”

  “You know them? So, I’m not seeing things.”

  “You’re seeing things no one else is seeing, child. They’re dead.”

  “But they seemed so…”

  “Real? That’s how it works with us gypsy women.”

  “So, why did the girl call me a ghost when she was the ghost?”

  “I guess because she knew you weren’t from her time.”

  Lana watched as Marissa nodded off for a minute, letting her rest. She studied her soft breathing and wallowed in her silver beauty. She hoped to grow that old one day and to die like normal humans, preferably in the arms of the man who loved her, a man with blue eyes.

  Marissa’s eyes popped open, startling her. “I’m not sleeping, girl. I went to a place where my guides speak to me. You’re in trouble, Lana girl. Real trouble.”

  “I know…”

  “No. I know about the little deal Mr. Red made with you, gave you two choices to pick?”

  She nodded.

  “More happened at that ceremony your coven gave you.”

  Her heart palpated hard and fast, fearing the words to come out of her grandmother’s mouth. “Go on.”

  “You saw your grandmother Lana there, right?”

  “Yes, but I thought I was dreaming. It was when Jack turned into the beast and was behind me, I was blindfolded, and I was falling in some pit, but I saw her, so beautiful, and grabbed her hand. It gave me strength.”


  “She was welcoming you.”

  “Welcoming me?”

  “She was immortal, too, before she gave herself to God.”

  “What?” Her heart now felt like a full-out heart attack waiting to happen. “I mean, I know the story, but you said too?”

  The older woman grabbed the hand rests and pushed herself up, balancing her wobbly legs, and shuffled toward Lana.

  “Don’t get up, Granny! I’ll come to you!” Lana stood and met her, grabbing hold of the frail woman who threw her bony arms around her neck.

  “We must pray, child,” Marissa said in a choked voice, tears running down her cheeks.

  “No! I don’t pray. You know that, and I don’t believe you! What happened to me?” Lana held her grandmother close to her heart until she calmed down. She worried about her health and guided her to sit back down. “No more getting up, okay?”

  She wiped her face with a tissue and continued. “When you dipped the dagger in the chalice is when it began, and it ended with the last kiss of the high priest. They called it the five-fold kiss, but it was so much more…”

  “Go on,” she said, feeling a numbness come over her.

  “And the high priest is also the same.”

  “Granny…”

  “You’re dead, Lana girl. Dead.”

  “No, I’m not. I’m very much alive,” she said in a low tone, trying to convince herself.

  Marissa cried into her tissue, her bony shoulders quivering. “You’re still sweet little Lana, the same girl, just like your grandmother was. She lived for two centuries before she ended it all,” she said, sniffling.

  “So, that’s why the big splash at his church yesterday for Drake and me, introducing us like we were King and Queen. We are…of the damned,” she said in a monotone voice.

  “Did you hear a word I said? Your soul’s not blackened, not yet. The reason your grandmother’s soul never blackened was because she never slept with Jack. Don’t sleep with him. Don’t sleep with any of them, only the good, the mortals. If you sleep with the immortal, it mingles with your blood and changes you.”