Chapter Twenty-Four
The mysterious death of the heir to the Summerfield family estate occupied prime media time and print space for over a week. Jacob Summerfield’s body had been found in the back of a police cruiser near Battery Park. He had been pronounced dead upon arrival in Emergency. Cause of death was attributed to a neurotoxin found in his bloodstream, possibly entering the body through the wound in his hand, or perhaps it had been in his body all along and triggered by the wound. Summerfield was well known for diving in tropical waters where some of the world’s most deadly neurotoxins could be found.
Only the most sensational of media outlets tried to string those two facts together with any seriousness and the whole story might have disappeared, except that Summerfield’s body was stolen from the morgue, the evening after Graham Summerfield, who stood to inherit the family fortune now that Jake Summerfield was dead, had identified it, creating an even greater scandal.
Sabrina watched footage of Graham Summerfield leaving the building after the formal identification. He looked like a man in deep shock.
Sabrina tried to feel some sort of pity or empathy for him. Nyanther had related to her Jake’s last conversation with his uncle and the ultimatum the man had given Jake and it hardened her heart.
“When can I see Jake?” she asked Nyanther, who was holding her hand. He did that a lot, now.
“Never, while you are in New York where everyone is watching you,” Nick said from across the room. “Jake is supposed to be dead and you are supposed to be in mourning. After the meteor thing, every detective in Manhattan is looking for connections. We won’t be giving them one.”
Sabrina looked at the newly repaired windows. Nick had paid for fast service and because insurance was not an issue, the work had proceeded at a sprint.
“Then when can we leave for Scotland?” she asked Nyanther.
He kissed her hand. It was the one with the white scar on the front and the back and he often stroked the scar, too. “Soon. You must first attend Jake’s memorial service and cry, so his uncle knows the truth of Jake’s death. It will help give him closure. And I have work I must finish first, too.”
Nyanther had been spending spent long nights on his laptop, coordinating with his office in Inverness, preparing for his return. When he had asked Sabrina to go with him, she had not hesitated. Not even for a moment. If she could not see Jake while she was in New York, she would leave the city without a backward glance and as soon as possible.
First, she must get through Jake’s memorial service.
She was astonished at the number of people who attended. The cathedral was filled to capacity and there were more people standing on the sidewalk outside, in silent tribute.
When Graham Summerfield had spoken of Jake as a strong leader, dedicated to the family’s business affairs, she had moaned into her handkerchief in disgust. The longer the man spoke, the more ill she felt.
Then she looked around. Everyone else, particularly those in the family pews at the front, were nodding in agreement and sniffing.
They really believed this? Jake had been the black sheep, the rebel, the one who had refused to settle into family obligations. Had they already forgotten that?
She looked at them all curiously and realized that yes, they were blind to those uncomfortable facts. They wanted to mourn the man he might have been, a vision that gave them more comfort than the truth.
None of them were going to remember him the way he really was.
Sadness touched her.
Her sadness and the hollowness it created in her chest made it possible for her to shake Graham Summerfield’s hand afterward. Genuine tears sparkled in her eyes. They were for Jake, who had been right about them all along. It was the end of this life for him. He could never go back.
A week after the memorial service, Detective Novak asked to speak to all of them. He arrived at the apartment shortly after ten and refused coffee. He didn’t sit down, either, even though Nick pulled out the chair next to his usual place at the top of the table.
Riley and Damian sat on one side of the table. Nyanther and Sabrina sat opposite them.
Novak pushed his hands into his trousers and stood at the corner of the table, a troubled look on his face. “You had the repairs done fast,” he commented, looking at the new windows.
“I thought you wanted a formal interview at the precinct,” Nick said, coaxing him to the point.
“I did.” Novak sighed. “Most detectives get into the game because they can’t abide not having answers. At least, the good ones do. I’d like to think I’m one of the good ones. Nothing about you folk provides any answers I would care to put in my reports.” He shook his head. “I was sorry to hear about Jake Summerfield,” he added.
“You think his death was connected with the rocks thrown through our windows?” Nick asked.
Novak took his hands out of his pockets and put them flat on the table. “This is off the record. I’ve had to formally shut down the case, so I’m here purely for personal reasons.”
“Your search for answers,” Nyanther said.
Novak gave him a stiff smile. “Do I think Summerfield’s death was connected? Yes, absolutely. I just don’t know how. It’s another bizarre fact that sits in your vicinity without a direct connection I can see, just like the street interviews we did after your rock thing. Some people reported seeing monster-sized bats coming out your windows. One said they had a woman with them. No one could agree on how many. Some said three, some said two, some said there was a baby bat…then others said they saw the meteor streak across the sky and hit. Nothing corroborates anything. Then, suddenly, Summerfield dies and as if his death wasn’t bizarre enough, his body is snatched.”
The frustration pouring off Novak was almost visible. No one said anything.
Then Novak straightened and wiped his fingers across the varnished surface of the table. “There has been a rash of missing person reports in lower Manhattan, going back nearly six months now. People always go missing, especially in New York, only we’re talking about numbers jumping three hundred percent from any other time. Most of the people going missing were homeless or lived in the really tough neighborhoods. Some of them had reason to be gone, too. There were still far too many people who just up and vanished overnight. Then there were the mutilations.”
Sabrina flinched.
Nyanther’s hand settled on her thigh under the table, soothing and stroking.
Novak shook his head. “Body parts, mangled remains…the medical examiners were beside themselves. There was a new one every couple of weeks or so, sometimes two or three at once. The department psychologists were talking about one or more serial killers being driven by moon cycles, except they could never get the Luna phases to match up.”
Novak shrugged. “Like I said, there was a lot of weird shit happening in my city and you’re the only people who seem to have any connection with it and that makes you unique.”
“Unique, how?” Sabrina asked, keeping her tone cool.
“You’re still alive,” Novak said shortly. “People anywhere on the edges of this stuff…they ended up dead. Except for you.”
Sabrina stayed silent. So did everyone else.
Nick stirred. “You keep using the past tense.”
“I do,” Novak said. “Two weeks ago, we were due for another spike of mutilated bodies and missing people. They didn’t happen. No one went missing that we haven’t accounted for.” He looked around the table. “I’m not here to demand answers,” he said slowly. “I’m pretty sure I could take blow torches to you people and you wouldn’t give me the time of day if you didn’t want to. It doesn’t matter anymore. Two days ago I got a visit from an old FBI buddy of mine, who bought me a shitty cup of coffee and told me in the most roundabout way I’ve ever heard the Feebs use that I was to drop the case and leave you fine folk alone.”
Sabrina looked at Riley. Riley’s face was utterly still and neutral, giving away nothing. Sabrina thought
she might be trying not to smile. Nick and Damian had impenetrable gazes when they chose to be obscure and they were using them now.
Nyanther stared at Novak. He wasn’t smiling either. There was a lightness in his eyes that said he wanted to.
Novak nodded. “Yeah, I figured you’d say something like that,” he said heavily, even though no one had spoken.
“Detective, if you believe we won’t give you any answers, why are you here?” Riley asked.
Novak gave the table a last swipe with his finger and put his hands back in his pockets. “There’s the letter of the law and there’s justice…”
Nick smiled. “That’s why you’re here unofficially.”
Novak nodded. “Fact is, a lot of creepy shit going on around here stopped about the time your friend Summerfield got killed. The FBI is protecting you and they get into a lot of weird shit themselves, sometimes. Now, people aren’t dying in more than the usual numbers, which tells me that whatever was going on has been stopped. And I notice there’s a pile of packed suitcases over there. You’re going somewhere.”
Nyanther stirred. “I’m heading back to Scotland,” he said, his accent thicker than usual.
“So, all your business here is done,” Novak replied.
“For now.”
“What are the chances that you’ll have to come back to deal with the same issues?” Novak asked carefully.
“The same issues? No chance at all.”
Novak nodded. “That was what I was hoping you’d say,” he said softly.
“Although we’re staying right here, Nick, Damian and I,” Riley said. “This is our home.”
Novak considered all of them once more. “Good to know,” he said flatly. Then, more to himself than to any of them, he added in a low voice, “yes, very good…”
He gave them all one last nod and left.
Seven hours later, Nyanther and Sabrina landed in Fredericton International Airport, in New Brunswick, Canada.
When Sabrina had questioned Nyanther about the little hop up north before crossing over the Atlantic to Heathrow, instead of taking one of the dozens of daily direct flights, his answers had become vague and indirect. There was a gleam in his eyes that made Sabrina’s heart flutter with hope.
“All this time you’ve spent on your laptop I thought you were dealing with work issues. That’s not all you were doing, was it?” she demanded.
Nyanther shrugged. “I’m over two thousand years old, I own a billion-dollar multi-national corporation and I have two identities. I’m complicated. You’re going to have to learn to live with that.”
“Says the savage from the hills,” Damian had added.
“Pot and kettle,” Nyanther shot back.
Damian just grinned.
They cleared customs and immigration in Fredericton and found the departure lounge for the flight to Heathrow, which was another three hours away. The lounge was completely empty of even airline personnel, except for one dark haired man sitting with his back to them, looking out the observation window at the big-bellied jet that was being prepared for their flight.
Nyanther took Sabrina’s hand in his and headed for the window and the man.
Her heart fluttered. She squashed any speculation, any hope. She didn’t want to be disappointed.
Nyanther rounded the low row of seats and stood in front of the man, pulling Sabrina around with him.
Jake looked up and smiled.
There was a small toddler sitting next to him, playing with his watch. She had thick red curls, tied at the top with a green bow, and blue eyes identical to Jake’s. He picked her up and sat her on his hip as Sabrina’s thoughts scattered to the four winds, blasted apart by her surprise.
“This is Brandy,” Jake said softly. He took the girl’s hand and let her tiny fingers curl around his big forefinger.
Sabrina’s eyes stung. “I should have seen this. I should have figured it out.”
Jake shook his head. “No one knew,” he said. “My uncle wouldn’t let me see her. He didn’t want the scandal.”
Sabrina smiled at the little girl. “Her mother…?”
“Dead.” Jake sighed. “My uncle was paying private foster parents.”
“That’s how he was keeping you in line.” Horror and pity touched her. “And I shook his hand…”
She looked at Nyanther as he played with Brandy’s other hand, distracting her. “You knew.”
“He guessed,” Jake said quickly. “I only told him about her at the very end, when I couldn’t see a way out of it. He made sure the authentic adoption went through—he and his hackers.”
“Adoption?” she breathed.
Jake looked at Nyanther, startled. “You didn’t tell her?”
Nyanther shook his head. “I thought you might like to do that.”
Sabrina looked at Jake expectantly.
He hoisted Brandy in his arms, resettling her. “Brandy was adopted by Mr. and Mrs. Straithairn of Inverness, Scotland.”
Straithairn.
“James Straithairn, brother to Neal Straithairn, has been living in the United States since he studied at Harvard, ten years ago. He picked Brandy up from the foster home two days ago,” Nyanther added and held out a passport to Sabrina. It was one of the red British ones, with the elaborate coat of arms on the cover. “On his way back home to England.”
“Graham sold her,” Jake said, bitterness coloring his voice. “He couldn’t wait to get rid of her. It was almost too easy.”
“The rest was a simple matter of adjusting official records, so the right people in the right place saw the right documentation to let them process a formal and proper adoption,” Nyanther said.
Sabrina took the passport and opened it. Sabine Chloe Straithairn. Her eyes stung with more tears. “I couldn’t fake a British accent with a gun to my head,” she whispered.
“You are naturalized British,” Jake told her, his accent as plummy and rich as Nick’s ever got. “I had the great distaste to marry an American wife.” He smiled.
Nyanther picked up Jake’s hand. “I would kiss you if I thought I could get away with it. There are too many cameras in an airport. You, though, should kiss your wife, James.”
“I’ve been wanting to since you got here,” Jake said, his voice low. “I thought my wife might skin me alive if I didn’t explain everything immediately.”
“That’s a possibility. I hear she’s good with a butterfly knife,” Nyanther said. He took Brandy out of Jake’s arms and kissed her cheek and she laughed at him and gripped a lock of his unruly hair.
Jake pulled Sabrina close and she wound her arms around him. He no longer felt hot like he once had. “Has Ny made up for my deserting you like this?” he asked, his voice low.
“Barely.” Her voice was uneven. “Oh, Jake, to let yourself go through that!”
He wiped his thumb over her cheek, taking away the moisture. “I did it for you. And for Nyanther. It was the only way I could keep you both in my life and I would do it again and again if I had to.”
“I love you,” she breathed.
His response was to kiss her, with an intensity and depth she had never felt from him before. Then she realized. He was holding nothing back. This was Jake with his inner core revealed.
She felt a soft pattering on her arm, drawing her attention away from him. She reluctantly pulled away from Jake and turned to see Brandy was playing with her hair. Nyanther had stepped close to them, close enough to make them a group, not just a couple.
Jake curled his hand around the back of Nyanther’s neck. “When we get home…” he said, his voice hoarse, “…I will do to you everything I want to do at this moment and can’t.”
Nyanther’s eyes were filled with warmth. He circled Sabrina’s waist with his spare arm and Brandy nestled between Jake’s and Nyanther’s shoulders, a perfect fit. “You three are my tribe, now,” Nyanther said, his voice a deep rumble. “You are the core of my tribe. Riley and Nick and Damian…they make up the rest of it,
but you are the heart and soul of my life. I will go on, only because you are here and because only you give my life meaning.”
Jake nodded. “And you are my family,” he added. “The one I never knew I needed, the real family I wish I’d had all along. Now I’ve found you, I’m not leaving. Not ever.”
Sabrina smiled. Her heart was light, bubbling over with joy and happiness. They were looking at her, Jake with a puzzled frown. “What is it?” he asked.
She tried to keep her voice even and failed. “You are the thing I have been looking for all my life. I just about gave up on ever finding it because I didn’t know it even existed…and here you are.”
“Tribe or family?” Nyanther teased.
Sabrina shook her head. “You are my clan.”
More paranormal romance
by Tracy Cooper-Posey
Sabrina’s Clan is the final book in The Stonebrood Saga.
If you would like more hot paranormal romance, try:
Eva’s Last Dance, Part of the Short Paranormals Collection.
Nearly one hundred years after their last dance together Eva’s long lost love, Edward, makes contact again. Eva—lonely and a vampire now—can’t resist falling into his arm and under his erotic spell. She’ll do anything he asks of her.
The spell is rudely interrupted by human demon hunter Ryan Jefferson, who is on the trail of an incubus. He sets out to seduce Eva properly in a searing night of dance and passion.
This dance counts in more ways than one...
__
This is a short story. You could enjoy a long coffee and the story for dessert.
WARNING: This story contains multiple and explicit MF sex scenes, including anal sex. Do not read this book if frank sexual language and sex scenes offend you
No vampires were harmed in the making of this novel, but one gargoyle did met a dusty ending.
This story is part of the Short Paranormals collection.
Sabrina's Clan Page 25
