Betrayed by Blood: The Shelton Family Legacy : 1

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Betrayed by Blood: The Shelton Family Legacy : 1 Page 18

by L. A. McGinnis


  “I’m a lowly private investigator, not some super hero. I blundered around Devilton like a total newb, you should have seen me. I am not cut out for this dangerous shit, and I’m not joining your team of misfit toys. You three look like you have it firmly under control.”

  “What are you going to do when the world ends, Andy?” Damn, I wish his voice wasn’t so convincing, and his eyes so goddamned blue. “Why not stay in New York?”

  “Because I hate this place,” I insisted, biting off the words. “I never wanted to come here in the first place, and I wouldn’t have if Lincoln hadn’t died. I sure didn’t sign up for this bullshit. I liked my nice quiet life of surveilling cheating husbands and white-collar criminals. I was good at it. Then somebody killed Lincoln, and everything fell apart.” Wow, can you just shut up?

  I rubbed my forehead, feeling exhaustion settle into my bones like it was going to stay for a good, long time. “All I want… all I need is to go somewhere and hide. Somewhere Bennett can’t find me, somewhere I can blend in. You promised me that.”

  “What you discovered is important.” He had an astute tilt to his head I didn’t like, because it meant he was putting the pieces together. I shook my hair down in my face even farther.

  “Actually,” I corrected him, “Henry discovered it, so don’t use this situation as an excuse to drag me into your little cadre. I’m not kidding, I’m done. Now you can keep up your end of the deal, since I did everything you asked.” I was furious, for some reason, probably from hitting the end of my proverbial rope by having to fight for the privilege of walking away.

  “If I don’t keep my end?”

  Something inside me wound up even tighter. “Then it doesn’t matter. I’m still leaving,” I snapped, not able to resist tacking on, “It’s not like you to renege on a deal.”

  Before I knew it, my hands were firmly planted on my hips, and my jaw was stuck out, reminding me of the many times Gabriel and I had argued, a lifetime ago.

  “It’s not like you to walk away without a word,” he countered slowly, taking me in, his gaze resting on my hair, which was curling at an alarming rate. There was a brightness to his eyes I didn’t like, a dawning understanding that I couldn’t allow to go any further.

  “Just try to stop me,” I countered stubbornly.

  “I’d never dream of it… Andy,” Gabriel said condescendingly as he threw his arm toward the door. “Go, then. Don’t let me stand in your way.”

  Furious, I snorted. “As if you ever could, Big D.”

  The second his childhood nickname slipped out of my mouth we both froze, me watching in horror as realization, then recognition crossed his face before being replaced by what I’d always called the-cat-got-the-cream look. A self-satisfied, gloating expression coated with a fair bit of arrogance as he crossed his arms and leaned back. Even now, something in me wanted to wipe it off his face.

  “I knew you were familiar,” he half-muttered to himself. “It’s been driving me crazy, trying to place you. Now that I know… God… I see it.” He sat leaned back farther on the desk, taking me in, one hand rubbing circles on his chest, his fancy shirt bunching up. “I totally see it,” he hissed beneath his breath, surprise and a fair bit of anger coating the words.

  “Huh,” he said, his voice deadly. “It looks like the Sheltons got in here after all, despite my best efforts.”

  Henry and Dawson stopped their kibitzing in the corner to watch us.

  “Miranda Shelton, of the New York Shelton’s.” Gabriel announced, his tone brittle and ugly, loud enough for everyone to hear, even ham-sandwich guy.

  “Welcome home.”

  If I could harness the bottled-up anger in those two, bitten off words, I could have leveled an entire city block. We stared at each other as apologies danced on the tip of my tongue, every one of them dying as I took in the cold accusation in Gabriel’s eyes.

  27

  “Don’t you dare call me that,” I warned him fiercely. “What’s wrong with you?”

  “What’s wrong with me?” Gabriel’s voice was growing incrementally louder. “What the hell, Andy? You just left. No goodbye, no nothing. You left and never even told me where you were going,” he roared as I stalked away.

  This was the Gabriel I remembered. Too easily hurt, too attached to things he couldn’t have. Wearing his heart on his sleeve might have been something he’d invented, he did it so well. But beneath that well-groomed, self-assured civility was a vulnerable boy who had turned into a vulnerable man, probably for the same reasons I didn’t trust anyone and worked so hard to keep people out of my life.

  Being damaged sucked, you made stupid decisions based on events half a lifetime ago. Even knowing this, you still made them, and everyone around you suffered.

  Neither of us was whole, and maybe we never had been. We came from families more interested in power than offspring and had the emotional scars to prove it. But that didn’t mean he had the right to out my real identity in front of others. I glanced over at the peanut gallery transfixed by the turn of events.

  “Why the fuck did you leave?” he asked more calmly, now that he was thinking things through. This, too, was Gabriel, a keen mind good at solving complicated puzzles. Actually, I was surprised it had taken him so long to figure out who I was, given how many times I’d slipped up. He must be getting sloppy in his old age.

  “Where would you like me to start?” I asked coldly. “When my magic appeared and I incinerated half of Lexington Ave? Or when my father told his bodyguard to take me down to the river and put a bullet in me?” His expression changed from anger to disbelief as I went on. “Because both of those incidents could possibly be considered the turning point of me leaving the city, and everything I’ve ever known. Including you.”

  I was filled with so much anger and resentment that I was shaking. I was pissed. So angry, I no longer cared who heard us fighting, or who knew my deepest, darkest secret. I was pissed at Gabriel, at Lincoln, at the whole goddamned world who thought they could take everything away and still expect more.

  Expect me to explain myself, justify the uncontrollable events that led me to right here and now.

  My breath turned choppy as I longed to melt something down into a puddle. I wanted to hurt the world as badly as it had hurt me, and then, maybe, I’d feel better.

  “Andy,” Henry warned from across the room. “Watch yourself.”

  Indeed, flames were trickling out of my fingers, pooling on the concrete floor by my feet. Taking a deep breath, I pulled myself together and extinguished my power. As unfair as I viewed this entire situation, these people had uncovered something too important to ignore. My petty problems paled in comparison, and I knew it.

  Henry gave me a shallow nod of approval while he watched me pull the magic back in.

  “You’re the Shelton girl. I remembered when you disappeared.” He shook his head. “I can’t believe you managed to hide yourself from them all these years.”

  Henry sounded just like Lincoln, his voice laced with concern, regret tempered by curiosity. But behind him, Daws just stared at me. I couldn’t place her expression, somewhere between loathing and disgust, but my gaze was drawn back to Gabriel. He, at least, deserved an explanation.

  “Yup, that’s me.” I had to go somewhere quiet to think this through. I’d seen too much, learned too much too fast, and now my big secret was out. I had to somehow make Gabriel understand my reasons. I wished Lincoln was still alive. I wished I could just go home and bury myself in covers and sleep for a week, and he would have let me.

  “Is this true? Andrew tried to kill you?” Henry asked gently. “Your own father?”

  “His bodyguard tried. After the incident...”

  “I remember that. It was in front of King’s Grocery,” Gabriel mused aloud. “Half the street went up in flames, cars exploded… it was a disaster.” There was a certain amount of pride in his voice, though, as if he admired me for burning down a city block.

  “It really was
,” I agreed, scanning the room for my phone. To hell with my new life. If I had my phone, I’d have contacts, and I could figure this out by myself. “After that, things got ugly.”

  “You could have come to me,” Gabriel offered fiercely. “I would have helped you.”

  “You were thirteen, dumbass. You couldn’t take care of yourself, much less me. Besides…”

  I shut up and left the word, and its unspoken implications, hang in the air between us.

  It wasn’t like I hadn’t thought about it, because I had. I’d been a little in love with Gabriel, even way back then. He’d been everything to me: friend, confidant, partner in crime. Yes, perhaps I’d entertained certain childhood fantasies of being saved from the dragon by a certain dark-haired knight in shining armor. But I chose to run. If I’d gone to Gabriel, my ten-year-old self reasoned, my father would have killed him too. Maybe his whole family, I didn’t know. I was fucking ten.

  Even now, my instincts told me that choice would have put Gabriel in harm’s way, especially since my father was capable of anything and had the political connections to cover up any hint of scandal.

  “Shit, Rogue, I didn’t know.”

  “Yeah.” I dropped my head so they couldn’t see my face. I wasn’t able to offer much more than that, considering how badly my eyes started burning the second Gabriel used my old nickname.

  Devil and Rogue.

  We’d gleaned the monikers from some old adventure book we’d once read, or maybe from dungeons and dragons, I hardly remembered. But they still sounded right, like they fit us better than our given names. Of course, I’d shortened Devil to Big D, and because it irked Gabriel, I’d used the nickname ever since.

  “How in the hell did you ever end up on Lincoln’s doorstep, of all places?” Henry asked, a curious tilt to his head, while Dawson’s eyes narrowed. She hadn’t said a word, though it looked like she really wanted to. The vibe rolling off of her was strange. It made my magic rear back, as if it were being threatened, but all she was doing was watching me.

  “I tried to pickpocket him.” When Gabriel and Henry chuckled, I shrugged. “What? He looked like the perfect mark. Fancy, loaded, and completely unaware.” How wrong I’d been.

  “I remember. When Lincoln said he’d taken on a ward, I didn’t know what to think,” Henry observed. “But he did mention you had potential. He neglected to say how you’d met, but I’d say it was fate.”

  I snorted so hard snot came out of my nose. “There’s no such thing as fate. There’s bad decisions that lead to worse ones, and good decisions that sometimes turn out okay. That’s it.”

  “You’re a bit cynical for someone who’s only twenty-six,” Gabriel murmured, handing me a tissue. There was still anger rolling off him, but his face had changed, and there was a trace of a smile on his face.

  “That, coming from the king of the world at twenty-nine.”

  Don’t even get me started on what it did to my heart that Gabriel remembered exactly how old I was.

  “What will it take for you to give me what you owe me?” I challenged. “I hate to ask, but a little cash would go a long way toward getting me back on my feet. You can certainly spare it,” I reminded him, well aware of how loaded he was.

  “Stay for two days,” Gabriel offered. “Two days while we sort out this Space Affairs report and the implications. If it’s true… if there is a Second Surge coming, maybe we can figure out how to mitigate the damage. After that, I won’t stop you.”

  “Swear?”

  “Swear.”

  “Two days, then,” I agreed, though my heart wasn’t in it. This was a bad decision. Once again, I was basing my next move on my guilt of leaving Gabriel behind, while I embarked on the adventure we always said we’d share. Leaving was the prudent move. This… this arrangement would certainly end up in disaster.

  “Do you want to dive in now, or can I sleep off Devilton for a few hours?” My body was beginning to ache in earnest, my back mostly, as it protested the simple act of standing with sharp pains where the baton had hit me. A jubilant thrill went through me at the memory of Max’s ashes blowing away in the wind, and I decided to hell with guilt; it served the fucker right.

  “The bedroom’s the door beside the bathroom. Oh, and I forgot to tell you before, there’s a button on the shower surround to turn the window opaque, but I’m sure you found it.” I swear his eyes twinkled slightly as he added, “Crack detective that you are.”

  “Sure did,” I retorted, now worried that I’d mooned half of NYC.

  “Get some rest, Andy,” he told me somberly, the twinkle gone. “We have a lot of work to do taking down your family.” While I headed for the first sleep I’d had in days, Gabriel added, “For the record, I am glad you decided to stay.”

  But I’d caught the hint of doubt in his voice when he said your family. Whether he didn’t think I was up to the task, or I was a Shelton plant like he feared, I didn’t know, but his small hesitation left me feeling hurt.

  Still, a lifetime of skepticism was probably healthy, given his position, and I shouldn’t expect to just swoop in here and everything go right back to how it had been. No matter how badly I wanted to.

  I locked myself into his bedroom, intending to go straight to sleep because I needed it, but my brain was on the verge of sensory overload. Gabriel knew who I was. My secret was out, and I no longer had to hide myself, watch everything I said and did.

  So what if Gabriel didn’t trust me?

  I only had to make it two more days.

  But the harder I tried to fall sleep, the more I dwelled on his hesitancy. Maybe this was okay. If he didn’t trust me, then I could take off and not feel guilty leaving them to figure out this mess.

  But Gabriel not trusting me was wreaking havoc in my head. It might have been nice to be welcomed back with open arms and all of that, but I guess we’d both changed. Still, it seemed like Gabriel just didn’t… care.

  Why this mattered so much, I couldn’t say. But it did.

  Then there was the mysterious report that kept flashing on my closed eyelids, my father’s scrawl at the bottom standing out like an executioner’s signature. I’d always known my family was a callous bunch of opportunists, but betraying the entire human race set the bar to new lows.

  Not only were they killing Elementals and stealing their magic, they hoped to make an obscene profit from it. To accomplish this, my parents were banking on more than just a growing economy. They were betting on the end of the world.

  According to the report, there was a Second Surge coming, and my family was neck deep in the government’s conspiracy to hide the looming apocalypse from the public, in order to give them time to gather enough magic to build their new tech.

  Tech that could withstand another Surge.

  I’d ask my self how they’d sunk so low, but I already knew the answer. They’d always been opportunistic assholes, but now they had government backing.

  At some point, I drifted off, realizing I never even got a piece of pizza.

  “I have proof of everything they did,” Gabriel said, by way of greeting. “After I downloaded Henry’s stolen files, I hacked into the doctor’s personal computer—he really should have upgraded his security—and downloaded everything to a decoy server, through a series of bounces they’ll never unravel. He had some seriously twisted photos on there. You don’t even want to know.”

  I gave him a brief nod of agreement. I’d glimpsed some of the photos Dr. Death had kept, and I had no desire to see more. I’d seen enough shit in my four years as a PI to know I didn’t want those images burned on my brain for eternity.

  After some sleep, enough to hold me over but not enough to feel better, I studied the room with newly critical eyes. Suspicion hung in the air, tainted with a bit of resentment. Dawson was still an emerald green fashionista, but Henry had changed from his clown suit into what I dared label older-sexy, which gave me pause.

  Where Lincoln had been fastidious to the point of appearing
foppish, Henry was… cool.

  In a form-fitting black sweater that showed off his gray hair and trendy jeans paired with motorcycle boots, he looked like an artist, or an antiques dealer, or a movie star who’s aging really, really well. He still looked like Lincoln, only with a modern edge.

  But I felt the weight of Dawson’s suspicious gaze follow me around, one finger slowly tapping to every one of my footsteps. I got that she didn’t like me, but jeez, I’d given Henry back to her, which had to count for something. If not outright acceptance, then at least a thank you.

  Gabriel was busy accessing and displaying files as holograms, along with plans of what looked like a warehouse and GPS coordinates.

  “You’ve made some headway,” I commented, choosing to stand on the other side of the holos, praying they’d form a barrier between the two of us.

  In retrospect, I half-wondered if I’d subconsciously wanted Gabriel to out me. Why else the verbal slip? It might have been a stupid, possibly honest mistake, but I won’t lie. Seeing Gabriel’s eyes light up when he realized who I was? That made me happy. Uncomplicated, pure happiness, that my best friend in the world was once more… my friend.

  Still, I’d managed to keep my identity a complete secret from everyone, even Lincoln.

  Especially Lincoln.

  I’d trusted him for fifteen years. But there was always a part of me that wondered if he’d sell me out, if he knew. Somehow, I never came up with a definite no. Which bothered me enough to never confess everything to him, just the parts that didn’t matter.

  I trusted Gabriel with my whole being. Maybe because our roots were so solid, our secrets so old, and our bond so deep, it trumped everything in my new life through sheer force of tenure.

  I still trusted Gabriel in ways I didn’t completely understand. I wanted him to trust me just as much, in return.

  Yet here I stood, putting a wall of glowing holograms between us, praying he didn’t read anything on my face as I watched him.

  “I’ve sifted through the data, although I have to say, this is where Lincoln would have come in handy. He had a way of gleaning the bigger picture from random data, faster than I ever could.”

 

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