“What?” Why was he so happy? This was a whole new Jamison. One who cooked.
He dried his hands and walked to a door in the right corner of the kitchen beside the fridge and went inside. He came out holding two packets of tortillas. He walked my way with them and I followed his movement until he set the packets beside me on the counter. I glanced down. They were wheat.
Jamison put an arm on the back of my bar stool and the other on the counter top. He moved into my space, caging me in. His green eyes held amusement. “Good enough?"
Damn if his voice didn’t dip low and seductive. He was good. And he had done his homework on me. “Yeah.”
“Can I get a kiss for being on top of things?”
My chest shook with a laugh. He was adorable. “Sure.”
I drifted in close like I was going to plant my lips on his awesome arches, but then swiftly moved to plant them on his cheek. The smooth skin of his jawline teased my lips, as did the aftershave he had apparently applied. Jamison, being smooth, moved his head so my lips skimmed along his cheek until his lips found mine.
His hand let go of its post on the back of the stool and cradled my head as his lips played with mine. I clutched his hips, afraid I’d fall from my seat, and he moved closer.
A surge of emotions filled me. He was sweet, smart, and a hero, if you counted his heroic display at Snake Creek when I jumped and he came to rescue me. Save me. That’s what he was doing. They all were.
He eased away, his green eyes bright with emotions I wasn’t sure I could explain. Resting his forehead against my own, he was the first one to speak. “You’re welcome.”
I beamed and gave him a quick kiss before moving away. “Thank you.” I motioned to the stove. “You might wanna check on the chicken. It’s not good to leave a boiling pot unwatched.”
His hand raised up to the back of his head, ruffling his hair in a shy gesture as he backed away. “Right.” He went around the island and shot me a sheepish glance as he moved to check on the boiling pot. “Any other questions?”
Amused, I asked, “So what’s Win’s other talent?”
“Elemental Terra Firma. Earth.” He smirked. “He gets to play with dirt.”
I laughed, agreeing that his talent fit him.
He nodded. “Snowden’s a little touchy about his talent. He’s a Movemenair. He moves air, makes wind. Drex, if you don’t know it by now, is a healer.”
“Any cool name for him?”
“Nope. Just healer.” He pointed to the tortillas he had left beside me. “Slide those my way.”
I pushed them across the countertop and he caught them. “And you? What’s your talent and story?”
“What’s yours?” he countered.
My gaze darted to the left, past the living room, taking in the windows in the french doors that lead outside. Mine?
“Hannah?” I swung back to him, noticing he had paused what he was doing. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
With a wave of my hand, I dismissed his concerns. “Naw, you’re okay. I was raised in Falmouth, Maine by my mom and dad. My best friend, Trace, lives there. She’s somewhat of a tetchy wonder and sleuth. Mom got sick and died when I was twelve, and I became a slightly unruly child. On my thirteenth birthday, I spent the night at a friend’s house and we got into some booze.”
My eyes roamed his home, not wanting to see the sympathy that I was sure would be in his expression, and I continued on with my sad story. “I got sick and gained a tattoo, though now I know it’s my ‘mark.’ Dad took me to the doctors when I wasn’t getting any better. We tried doctor after doctor until we found one that made the discovery I had two conditions, not just one. And with the two illnesses together, it was basically Russian roulette with me being the one in the hot seat.”
My gaze landed on Jamison’s shoulder as I went on. “The doctors can manage it, but they are using all their resources to do it. If I become any worse, then there isn’t much they can do. My dad searched his family lines for anything akin to my illness but came up empty. Then he looked into Mom. It was hard because he didn’t know about her past or family history. Come to find out, she used her mother's last name as her own, not my grandfather’s. Dad found them and decided to move us here to feel them out before he reached out to them. That's what Mom wanted. Then I met you guys and voila, here I am,” I concluded.
I finally slid my gaze up to his eyes and caught him staring at me. No emotion showed. “What about you?”
That seemed to set him into motion once again. “I’m a Draíochta. I can tap into other Lydent’s talents and use them as my own. Hooks can do that too.”
I shifted in my seat wondering about why he was living with his uncle instead of his family.
He went on as he gathered more items from around the kitchen for the taquitos. “Hooks isn’t actually my uncle. I don’t know my parents. I grew up in a foster home in California and was pretty wild. When I was seven, my social worker and foster parents decided to send me away to a home for troubled kids. On the first day, I found Hooks trying to get into some records. I didn’t know it at the time, but he saw something in me and finagled an adoption of sorts. You see, he knew I was Lydent and didn’t belong there. We stayed in California for a while until we moved to Arizona. He was looking for something. Someone.”
“Who?” My heart sped up in anticipation of what he’d say.
His green gaze held mine as he spoke. “Your mother.”
My skin prickled as I jerked back. “My mother? Why?”
“Because she was the last heir to Anna Caldwell.”
I straightened, knowing he was wrong. “How long have you lived here? Because I learned today that my grandparents have two more sons and they have sons. So you are wrong, my friend.”
He shook his head. “The only grandparent that is yours is Adam Caldwell. Marrain Faine, who is married to your grandfather and raised your mom, was not her biological mother. Ann’s mother died giving birth to her in California. Your grandfather raised your mom until she was school age then moved to Blackfoot and married into the Faine family so Ann would have a maternal figure.”
I froze. “But still... my grandfather had at least one son with Marrain. So my mother’s not last in the family line. She had a brother.”
“But it’s not your grandfather's line we’re talking about. It’s your real grandmother’s line. The one who died giving birth your mother. Hannah, you’re the last one now. The last Caldwell. The only one who can help save us from the curse.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
I shrugged, kinda weirded out by his history lecture. “So what?”
He exhaled, placing a colander in the sink. “Because you’re the last descendant of Anna, there are those who will not be as accepting of you.” He picked up the pot of chicken off the stove and took it to the sink to drain.
“So? I can’t please everybody. They’ll just have to get used to me. And why was Hooks looking for me?”
“He was looking for your mom and you. He wanted to protect you.” He dumped the chicken back into the pot and drew out a mixer from one of the drawers.
I was curious. “Why... and what are you doing?”
He spared a glance my way. “Because he needs to, and I’m shredding the chicken.”
I hopped off my stool and rounded the island, wandering over to him. “I have to see this.”
He switched on the mixer and the boiled chicken shredded easily in the bowl.
“It’s magic!” I chuckled. “All those times Mom forced me do it by hand, I could have done this.”
Jamison shot a saucy smirk my way. “It’s not magic. It’s from a tutorial I watched. Glad you’re so amused.”
“Is there anything else I can help you with?”
“Sure.”
Together we finished up cooking dinner, and I was just at the point of setting the table when Deb shimmed in. She was frantic as she dashed to my side. “Hannah, it’s your father.” My heart froze in my chest. “He colla
psed during dinner with June and Able shimmed him to the hospital. We need to go.”
My gaze darted to Jamison and he waved me on. “Go. I’ll be right behind you.”
I didn’t waste another moment; I took hold of Deb’s hand, and she shimmed us away.
Deb and I shimmed right to the hospital but they wouldn't let me see my dad. The doctor and nurses were working on him. Fear filled me at the thought of losing my father. He was all the family I had left. My estranged relatives didn’t count. I couldn’t lose him.
We met up with June out in the waiting area and she began to talk. Her face was red like she’d been crying. “I don't know what happened. One minute he didn't seem to be feeling good, then he just dropped,” she informed us, struggling to keep the array of so many emotions in check. “He wouldn't respond and his breathing became shallow. He kept saying things. I wasn't sure what was happening with him. And soon after he started to seize. I'm so sorry,” she said, gripping me in a tight hold.
She pulled away, wiping away a tear, asking, “Was he acting off before? Like he wasn't feeling good?”
My whole body trembled and I struggled to keep the tears that I wanted to be let out at bay. I had already cried too much today to lose control now. I needed to think. “He seemed off after we went to the Lydent court but other than that, no.”
“Any changes in his behavior?"
“No.” Then I got to thinking. “Could it be something magical that happened? Could someone have done something to him?”
“It's possible.” Deb looked to June.
It was at this moment that Hooks came through the hospital doors, eyes wild, with Jamison following behind him.
Jamison took me in his arms as Hooks’ eyes narrowed on June. “We heard the news.
Tell me his symptoms.”
June explained all that had transpired, and with each comment Hooks became more tense. “Save the lights.” He glanced to me. “How recently has your dad been acting differently?”
“I don’t know. Since... the court thing, I think?”
“Has anything unusual happened in the last couple of days? Anything different.”
I shook my head. “Not really.”
“Are you sure that the night your mom died her light didn't go into you?”
“I don't think so. I mean, I can't account for when I was sleeping.”
He swiveled around, pulling his hand through his hair, and then came back to me. “Okay, how about an item, something your mom wore when she died?”
My eyebrows lifted, remembering. “I-ah...her wedding ring?”
He pointed to me. “That. Has your dad touched that lately?”
“When my mom died, the examiner actually took it off her and placed it in a pouch. My dad put it away for the longest time. Except...” I stopped for a second, realizing it must have been him that put it on my dresser. “Except it showed up on my dresser a few days ago, and I didn't put it there. You don't think...?”
Hooks nodded. “I do. I believe your mom’s light passed into her ring and your dad received it when he touched the ring for the first time. I'm not sure how long he’s had her light, but obviously this is the result. I need to get in there.” His gaze slid to June and then back to me. “I'm sorry; you might have to wait a little bit longer for the Elixer shot because I think your dad's going to need it right now.”
Hooks shimmed away and Deb turned to us. “If your mom left her memories in her ring, then maybe there's more information that she left for us. Where is it?”
“Wait. Has this ever happened before? Is my dad going to die?”
“It’s happened once before,” Jamison soothed. “With Carly. Hooks saved her. He’ll save your dad.”
Some of the tension left me. “Okay. Mom’s ring.” I knew Deb was right. I had experienced firsthand the memories. “It’s back at home in my closet, in the top drawer of my dresser.”
“Hang here. I’m going to see if I can get an idea of what happened.”
I curled into Jamison, pressing my face into the curve of his neck. I detected the sweet scent of peppermint and breathed the soothing scent in; curling my arms around his waist, I soaked up the comfort that he was willing to give.
Soon after Deb left, Young showed up along with two other Lydent council members. One of them was Rick and the other one, who I had yet to meet, sought me out and leered at me.
I shifted more toward Jamison, no sure why he did that.
Luckily we didn’t have time to speak before Hooks came back out. Ignoring everyone, my gaze fixed on Hooks, praying he’d have good news. “How is he? Is he better?”
Hooks glanced to Young. “I had to get Myra from Flag to come and verify. He has the Lydent light in him, so I gave him the vaccine. He settled down and his levels evened out, but we still have a long way to go. He’ll most likely sleep for a few days before he comes around. They’re moving him to Dr. Churchill’s clinic to keep an eye on him.”
“Save the lights!” June exclaimed. “At least we’re now aware of what's happening.”
“But he’s going to be okay, right?” I needed that confirmation.
“He’s now Lydent?” Young asked. “How?”
Hooks nodded to me. “He should be.”
Relief slammed into me as I wavered on my feet. Jamison tightened his hold. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m just...my levels, I need to eat.”
Jamison kissed my forehead. “Let me take you back to my place so you can have dinner.”
I spared a glance up to him. “But I don’t want to leave my dad.”
“And it’s not appropriate.” I twisted round to see Young watching the two of us. “She might be your bondmate, but that doesn’t mean it’s okay for the two of you to be alone together. You’re both still young.”
“Then what would you have them do?” June asked, coming forward. “The girl needs a place to stay and safety.”
“She can stay with us,” Hooks insisted, folding his arms. “They won’t be alone. I’ll be there.”
Mouth firm, Young shook his head. “No, she already has an introduction family with the Churchill’s.”
“Yes,” Hooks argued, “but she wasn’t meant to stay there. They were just supposed to guide her into our culture. I have more room for her at my place with it being only Jamison and I.”
The Lydent councilman who looked at me like I was something to eat spoke up with a snide comment. “With two men? Hooks, you know that’s not right.”
Hooks swung toward the repulsive man and growled, “Then tell me, Vic, where would you like her to go?”
Asshole Vic’s gaze slid toward me sporting a cruel grin. “Her grandparents have offered-”
Jamison tensed. “Not a chance.”
“I knew you’d bring them up,” Hooks said at the same time. “I won’t allow it. Not after I heard how they reacted to the news.”
“Be reasonable,” Rick implored. “They received a shock. They learned their daughter was dead, and a granddaughter they didn’t know existed showed up.”
“He’s right, Hooks,” Young reasoned, not noticing the gleam in Vic’s eye.
“She should get a chance to know her kin,” Vic voiced.
Get to know my kin? Who talked like that nowadays?
“We’ve already talked to them,” Rick stated. “They agreed.”
“So quickly? No,” I shot off, my gaze going from Rick to Young. “I should get a choice.”
“They are no kin of hers,” Jamison retorted.
Vic schooled his features and stepped forward. “What would you call Hooks to you then, boy?”
“Neru,” Hooks growled as he stepped up to Vic, stopping only inches from him. “Don’t you ever talk to him like that.”
“Hooks! Enough!” Young’s gaze went to Vic, his tone full of authority. “That is quiet enough. Such language.”
Hooks pulled back and grunted while Vic stood still, glaring daggers at him.
“Some people should really get
a hold of themselves,” Vic answered, dusting off an invisible piece of lint on his shoulder. “One would think that you were her bondmate.”
Jamison tensed. June gasped. My eyes went wide. There was no way, right? “Hooks?” I struggled to get his name out.
Jamison pulled me close. “Shh. Let them talk.”
Fists at his sides, Hooks never glanced my way. “Jealous, Vic? Not a lot of Lydent girls around, and you don’t have a bondmate as I recall. You want her. And being her bondmate would change things wouldn’t it? But what if I was hers, hm?” He swung his gaze to Young and softly asked, “What if she was mine?”
My heart beat rapidly in my chest. There was no way. Hooks wasn’t old, but he wasn’t young either. Even though he was handsome, I never would have thought he was my one of my bondmates. At least, I didn’t feel that way toward him.
Brows raised, Young asked, “Are you?”
He just stared at Young, jaw clenched. Young sighed. “We have her mark on record from Dr. Churchill, but we don’t have yours. Follow me, Hooks.” Then he slid his gaze to all of us. “Don’t leave. We’ll be back.”
After they left, I twisted around in Jamison’s arms, raising my lips to his ear to whisper, “Is he? Do you and him have the same mark?”
His head dipped, and the words that followed shocked me. “Yes.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes, Hannah, but it’s complicated.”
Not sure what else to say, I shifted from foot to foot. My stomach growled, reminding me that I hadn’t eaten yet; I was famished. I glanced to June. “Can’t June just stay with me at my house?”
Her mouth opened in surprise then curved into a pleased smile. “I don’t see why not.”
I sighed, relieved. “Good. I know what I can eat there. Jamison, can you take us?”
Vic twitched. “We should wait. I don’t bel-”
In super Lydent speed, I rounded on him. “I don’t give a fuck what you think. My life, my sickness, my rules. Deal with it.”
“Not with that restraining bracelet,” Vic sneered.
“Cool it, Vic,” Rick intervened.
“Which Hooks controls,” Jamison voiced, pulling me back and motioning to June to come near. “She needs to eat. We’re not hiding. They’ll know where to find us.”
The Bridge Over Snake Creek Page 19