by Ciana Stone
She was hoarse and barely able to kick anymore when the door suddenly opened. There stood Logan James. “What in the—” He grabbed her by the arm, hauled her out of the closet and yelled at the top of his lungs. “Help! Somebody help!”
The sound of feet pounding up the steps mixed with her cries and his attempts to find out what had happened. All she could do was cry, partly because her eye hurt so bad and partly because she was so grateful to him for getting her out of the closet.
Then Genevieve ran into the room. She took one look and yelled,“What have you done now you horrible child.?”
“She’s hurt, Mom.” Logan James put his arms around Sabine after she threw her arms around his waist and buried her face against him. “We have to take her to the doctor or call an ambulance.”
“Nonsense. Let go of her and let me have a look.”
“No!” Sabine screamed. “Don’t touch me. Don’t let her touch me, Logan James!”
The next couple of minutes were loud and chaotic with Sabine trying to hang onto Logan James, screaming and crying as Genevieve threatened to wear her ass out if she didn’t do what she was told. Logan James was yelling, trying to tell his mother that Sabine was hurt, her fingers were all cut up and one of her eyes was bleeding.
Sabine was getting more frantic by the moment and the more frightened she became, the worse she hurt. And not just her hands and eye. Her back hurt like someone was something was trying to pull her apart.
Suddenly, John was there. “What the hell’s going on here?”
“Sabine’s hurt,” Logan James yelled. “And Mama won’t take her to the doctor.”
John took a look at Sabine and then at Genevieve. His eyes narrowed and Sabine hung on tighter to Logan James. “Logan, see if you can get her into the car, son. We’ll take her to see the doctor.”
“No. She doesn’t need a doctor,” Genevieve argued.
“Yes, she does,” Logan James shouted at her and then at his dad. “We have to help her, Dad. We have to.”
“You’re right,” John agreed. “Now get her into the car, son. I’ll be down in just a minute.”
Logan James picked Sabine up and carried her down the stairs, out the front door and to his father’s pickup truck. He put her down to open the door and then looked at her. “Don’t be scared, Sabine. I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise. From now on I won’t let anyone hurt you.”
“I love you, Logan James.” She meant it. She might be five but she knew she loved him. She would always love him. Always.
Sabine snapped back to the present. A fat lot of good loving Logan James had done either of them. He was a serial marrying man and she was a woman who would never know the joy of having a husband and family because she didn’t possess the ability to love anyone but Logan Jame Legacy.
Ravyn knew Sabine loved Logan and she could have gone to Logan James and been honest. But she agreed with Sabine and felt it best to play her role and keep him out of it. She trusted that Sabine would keep his best interests at heart. She didn’t understand why Sabine didn’t let Logan know she loved him, but had accepted Sabine’s explanation that the family would not allow it.
The information Ravyn had provided today had Sabine concerned. Why had Micky Andrews been so foolish as to return? Surely he could not imagine that any good could come from him dredging up the past?
Worst yet, to reveal that particular chapter in their lives to Harris Garen had been a huge mistake. Wayne might be loyal to Ravyn and trustworthy because of his love for her, but his father had no love for the family. He’d like to see them all dead.
Sabine drained her glass and signaled the bartender for a refill. Just then, Ravyn and Wayne walked up to the bar. “Can we speak?” Wayne asked.
“Sure.” Sabine smiled at the bartender, put a ten-dollar bill on the bar and picked up her drink. “Come on.” She led the way outside.
“God, it feels good out here.” Sabine breathed in deeply. The night was cool and damp. It wouldn’t be long before the mist would rise. “Okay.” She turned to face Wayne. “What did you want to speak of?”
“Watchers. The Kindred.”
Her eyes went immediately to Ravyn, who quickly looked down. Sabine was surprised. She knew Ravyn loved Wayne, but trusting him with such knowledge could prove deadly.
“Watchers?” She decided to play dumb. “Kindred?”
He looked from her to Ravyn and then back to her. “Please don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about. Is it true?”
“Is what true, Wayne?”
“That your family—your families, the Legendres and Beaudreaux—that they’re descendants of the Watchers, some kind of supernatural—something.”
Sabine cut another look at Ravyn. This time, Ravyn did not turn away. “You can trust him, Sabine. I vouchsafe his honor and trustworthiness.”
“You vouchsafe?”
“I do.”
Sabine considered it for a moment, then nodded. She turned to Wayne and held out her hand. “Place your hands in mine, Wayne Russell Garen, if you would know the truth.”
Wayne hesitated long enough to glance at Ravyn. She nodded, and he turned his attention to Sabine. He placed his hands on hers and their gazes locked.
Sabine closed her eyes and breathed in, feeling her lungs expand. She held the breath until she could feel the pulse of her heart, then she slowly opened her eyes. She recognized the shock that rippled through Wayne but discounted it. He’d wanted the truth. Now she would see if he was bold enough to face it.
She gave one mental push and he acquiesced. Shock turned to fear, and she felt him try to withdraw. He loved Ravyn, wanted to be ready for her sake, but he was not. To understand Sabine’s truth would entail understanding a truth of his own, one of his family and he was not prepared for that.
“Forget, Wayne. Forget she spoke to you of the Watchers or their children, the Kindred. Those words will have no meaning for you from this point on. Not until the day comes when you are ready to face the truth of your own blood. Forget and let your love be enough to sustain you. What happened all those years ago was a terrible thing, but it was nothing more than what was reported. There is no conspiracy here, no terrible secret. This man, Micky Andrews, seeks to play upon your father’s hatred. You must protect your father from him.”
Sabine knew she’d reached him when his hands relaxed in hers. She smiled and released him, physically and mentally.
“So, what was it you wanted to speak with me about?” she asked.
“I wanted you to know that I will do everything I can to prevent my father and that man, Micky Andrews, from spreading wild tales. Andrews is an alcoholic. He’s obviously just trying to wheedle money from my father.”
“And knows of his longstanding hatred of anyone connected with the Legacys,” Sabine added.
“Yes.”
“I appreciate you letting me know, Wayne.” Sabine cut a look at Ravyn. “I’ll make sure the rest of the family knows you’re trying to help.”
“Thank you,” Ravyn said and dropped her gaze.
Sabine nodded. There was no need to say the words. Ravyn understood what had happened. Wayne was not ready to be included in certain aspects of Ravyn’s life. They might love one another, but he was not prepared for the truth. Sabine hoped one day he would be because she knew how much Ravyn loved him, but some people were never ready.
It remained to be seen if he would. Until then, the family had to be protected.
“Well, I think I’ll go in and grab a water,” Sabine said. “I’m as dry as the Sahara after all that tequila.”
“We’re going to head out,” Ravyn said and took Wayne’s hand.
“Okay, hon. Be safe.” Sabine gave them each a kiss on the cheek and waved as they turned away.
She returned to the bar. When she opened the door, the heat and noise was like a slap in the face. Sabine went over to the bar and waited for the barkeep to look her way.
“Hey. I’m Marcus. Can I buy you
a drink?”
Sabine turned to face the man who had leaned one elbow on the bar behind her. To say his wasn’t her type would be a lie. He was easily any woman’s type. Big, tough and handsome, he was the kind of man who spelled danger and that had an appeal that was hard to deny.
“Thanks, Marcus, but I’ve had enough to drink for one night.”
“Then let me buy you a water or breakfast.”
Sabine laughed. God, he was tempting. “Is that the best you can do?”
“Fine.” He locked gazes with her. “There’s something about you that gets to me. I want to take you home, get you out of those clothes and spend the night showing each other all the ways a man and woman can pleasure each other.”
“And then?” she asked.
He shrugged. “Haven’t thought that far ahead.”
“It’s tempting, but no. It’s time for me to leave.”
“You sure I can’t change your mind?”
Perhaps it was his smile, or perhaps it was just her loneliness, but she weakened. “And how would you do that?”
“Let’s see.” He reached out to run one hand behind her neck and guide her to him. “How about this?”
Wow. Sabine gave him pointers for technique. He could deliver a kiss that tempted her to toss her resolve out the door and take him up on his offer.
Then she sensed him, saw beneath the sexy facade to the real reason he wanted her.
She was the one to pull back from the kiss and gently disengage from the embrace. “Well, that’s definitely tempting, but I’ll have to say no. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
With that, she picked up her purse from the bar, looped the strap over her shoulder and headed for the door.
Marcus watched her until she reached the door, wondering if she would turn and look back. If she did, he had her, and he’d follow.
She pulled the door open, and for a moment he thought she’d walk out and not look back.
Then she cast a glance over her shoulder.
Ha. Gotcha.
He’d just navigated the trickiest part of the operation. The rest would be a piece of cake, and if what Micky Andrews had told him was true, Sabine Legendre was likely to net him a very healthy payoff.
He dismissed the fleeting thought that he was playing both ends against the middle. He’d collected from Harris Garen for delivering Mickey Andrews. As far as Garen knew, Andrews had told Marcus about a night, long ago, when he and Logan Legacy survived an attack that left five others dead, an attack by something that couldn’t exist.
What Marcus had not told Garen was that Micky mentioned someone else being there. A kid who lived with the Legacy family, one who followed Logan around like a pet puppy. It hadn’t taken much research to discover who that someone was. Sabine Legendre.
If it was true, and he suspected it was, there was a high probability that Logan Legacy would pay handsomely for her safe return.
Marcus tossed a twenty on the bar and headed for the door. He stepped outside, expecting to find her waiting. She wasn’t there. His gaze tracked across the parking lot from one side to the other. A fog had rolled in, decreasing visibility.
Was that her? Toward the end of the gravel lot?
He started in her direction, reached the end of the lot and stopped. He hadn’t heard a car. Surely she hadn’t walked. Damn, he must be slipping. How had she gotten away?
Just then he sensed a presence behind him. Marcus turned, and surprise had words freezing on his tongue. Then the world went dark.
Chapter Five
Logan had just stepped out of his car at the private airfield when his phone rang. It was his ranch foreman, Sam Jones.
“Sam, what’s up?” Logan answered as he headed for the jet on the tarmac.
“Got someone here looking for you, Mr. Legacy. He says it’s important.”
“What’s his name?”
“Dennis Andrews’ boy, Micky.”
Shock rippled through him strong enough to break Logan’s stride. Why in the world would Micky show up here? He considered it, but only for a couple of seconds, then turned and headed back to the car. “Tell him I’ll be there shortly.”
His next call was to the pilot. “Change of plans. Sorry, Ken. Give me an hour at most.”
Logan climbed into the back of the car. He wouldn’t admit it aloud, but Micky Andrews showing up unnerved him. Was it a coincidence that he’d been thinking about that night and suddenly Micky was here? Logan didn’t believe much in chance. He refused to let himself speculate on what had brought Micky back to Texas. He’d find out soon enough.
He leaned back, closed his eyes and emptied his mind of thought, allowing only one to remain. The sky. An endless blue, with thin wispy clouds. He watched the clouds move, gather and dissipate and then gather again.
When the car stopped, Logan opened his eyes feeling centered and calm. “Thanks, Ted,” he said to the driver as he climbed out. “This shouldn’t take long.”
Logan headed straight for the ranch foreman’s office, a small structure situated across from a row of big barns. Sam was in the office, seated behind his desk. Another man sat in a chair in front of the desk. The man turned as Logan entered.
“Logan?”
It had been a lot of years, but Logan recognized Micky. He was older and had maintained something of a boyish build. That boyishness was degraded by the red nose, rheumy eyes that seemed sunken into the eye sockets and hair that was thinning like that of a man thirty years older.
“What brings you here, Micky?”
Micky stood. “Just in the area and—and…” Micky looked down. “Hell, Logan, I need a job man. Been through a real rough patch.”
Logan nodded. “Sorry to hear that.” He looked at Sam. “Work him into the schedule, Sam, and get him settled in one of the bunk houses if you wouldn’t mind.”
“Sure thing, boss.”
“Thanks.” Logan turned his attention back to Micky. “Sam will get you set up and I’ll catch up with you later on. I was just on my way to the airfield. I have to be in Dallas this afternoon.”
“Sure, sure.” Micky stood and offered his hand. “I ’preciate this, buddy.”
Logan forced a smile and shook Micky’s hand. “Don’t mention it.”
He headed for the door after another glance at Sam. “Thanks, Sam.”
“Yes, sir.
Logan’s phone rang and he pulled it from his pocket as he left the office.. It was his mother. “Hey, Mom.”
“Where are you?”
“About to get in the car to head to Dallas.”
“Postpone that. I need to see you. I’m at the main house.”
“Can it wait?”
“No, it can’t.”
Logan knew better than to argue. No matter what might be going on, when his mother demanded time, it always took precedent.
“Fine. I’ll be there in five minutes.”
Logan walked over to the car and climbed into the back seat. “Another change of plans. Take me to the main house. I won’t need you after that.”
“Yes, sir,” his driver, Ted, responded and put the car in gear.
Logan called his pilot to inform him that the trip was off and then called the business associate he was supposed to meet with in Dallas. By the time he finished the call, the car was pulling up in front of the main house.
“Thanks, Ted,” Logan said and got out of the car.
His mother was waiting on the front porch and walked down the steps to meet him. “Walk with me.” She took his arm.
“What’s up?” Logan asked.
She looked around before answering. “I received a call from Gwendolyn.”
Logan frowned. The name sounded familiar, but he couldn’t bring a face to mind. “Remind me who she is?”
“Harris Garen’s mistress.”
“Why would Garen’s mistress call you?”
She gave him a sharp look. “Gwendolyn Beaudreaux.”
Logan looked at his mother in surprise. “Is th
at something you arranged?”
“Not alone but yes.”
He shook his head. Once his father had made the comment that the last person you want to be on the wrong side of was his wife and Logan’s mother. She and her family had their fingers in too many pies to count, and if the government had the kind of intelligence network the Legendre and Beaudreaux families did, they’d rule the world.
“Okay, so I’m guessing she keeps you in the loop on what Garen has going on?”
“She does.”
“And?”
“And he knows what happened that night, son.”
Logan hated the way his gut clenched at her words. “That’s not possible.”
“I’m afraid it is.”
“No.” He stopped walking, disengaged her hands from his arm and turned to face her. “No one knows but Sabine and me. Gil and Rusty were unconscious as far as I know—lucky to have survived and they’ve never spoken a word about it. Especially after everyone telling them it was a bear attack. So—damn. Micky.”
His gaze went in the direction of the barns. “Micky wouldn’t tell anyone. And even if he did, who would believe it? From what we know, he’s been a drunk most of his life. It would come across as a drunken dream or hallucination.”
“Except to Garen.”
“Why? Because he hates Dad so much? Why would he believe something like that?”
“Maybe he doesn’t believe it. But that won’t stop him from using it. If he suspects we don’t want it told, he’ll have leverage against us and we can’t allow that. We have to stop him. The Kindred must be protected.”
Logan didn’t need to be reminded of that. That had been drilled into him since he was old enough to understand. He’d do whatever he could to ensure the security and anonymity of the Kindred even if he didn’t believe in the tale of their origin or what they were purported to be. Yes, he would do everything in his power to protect kin, but he didn’t have a clue what to do about Micky.
“You know he’s here,” he finally said.
“Who’s here?” his mother asked, clearly confused.
“Micky. He just showed up looking like the fifth level of hell, asking for a job.”
