Concentric Circles (26 page)

“Rick, what’s wrong?” Jackson returned with the paramedics following. He looked with suspicion between Meekal and Rick.

Meekal shrugged, walking to Shayla’s side. “We need to go,” he whispered low. With a slight tip of his head, he indicated the trail to their right.

Shayla turned to hug Karen. “Take care of yourself and Cathee. I’ll stop by your house later and see you.”

Karen hugged Shayla tightly. “Thanks for your help.” Smiling mischievously, she whispered something only Shayla could hear.

Shayla giggled softly. “Thanks.”

Meekal tilted his head again toward the path indicating they needed to leave.

Shayla took his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Let’s go. I’ll see you later, Karen.” She gave Cathee another smile and reached to squeeze her uninjured hand. “You’ve been very brave. I’ll see you later, too.”

“Will you sign my cast, Shay?”

Shayla laughed along with the paramedic. “You bet ‘cha.”

Meekal pulled her hand, urging her to follow. Just before the trail turned, he glanced back at the rangers. He noticed that Ranger Rick still had a faraway look on his face.

“What’s wrong?”

“Your buddy, Rick is a Cimmerian.”

“What? Are you sure?”

“Yes. He acted weird when he noticed your tattoo.” Meekal moved his thumb over the mark on her hand. “I scanned him. He has the rune on his left arm.”

Shayla shook her head. “Pfft.”

“What?”

“Oh, I don’t know, it’s so, well like in a book, you know what I mean.”

“Aye, I do. You need to realize that marking your clan, gang or whatever you want to refer it to, is something we humans have always done.”

“I know, Kal.” Shayla became serious. “That’s why he seemed different today. C
IARAN
must have sensed it about him this time.” She paused. “He says that he did. Do you think he’ll be a problem? Ranger Rick, I mean.” She slowed down as they walked over a rough area of the trail. Water flowing above ground on its way to the river below had exposed tree roots resulting in the need to hike with caution.

“The charm I used on him will remove the memory of the tattoo.” Meekal said. “There’s still the fact that he seems to really like you. That may pose a problem if he becomes persistent.”

“It isn’t as though I’ve never handled an unwanted advance before.”

“This might be different.”

They walked along in companionable silence, enjoying the close communion with Mother Nature. A cardinal paused in his search for seeds to chastise them. Chipmunks and squirrels burrowed in the fallen leaves; looking for acorns they may have missed before.

“This is a nice park.” Meekal smiled at Shayla. “I can see why you love it here.”

She squeezed his hand, appreciating his presence. “Yeah. Barb and I used to spend hours and hours here when we were kids. She doesn’t come as often as I do since she started working at the courthouse.”

Meekal looked up the length of a tall oak. “The rocks remind me of the highlands. The trees.” His voice trailed off, head still tilted back.

“What about the trees?”

“Well, trees are everywhere. For some reason, they remind me of Raven’s Gate.”

“What’s Raven’s Gate?”

Meekal gave her a sad smile. “Cliff note version, Raven’s Gate is where our family clan is from. I’ve been there several times. No one lives there right now.”

“Not even Brenna?”

“No. She doesn’t like to go back there. Too many memories.”

“Okay. When will I meet her?”

“When the time is right,” he answered and led her along the trail toward the high point.

“Kal?”

He turned to look at her. “What’s wrong?”

Shayla sighed. “I can‘t get past this.”

Taking her hand, he pulled her down toward the path. “Let’s walk,” he said gently.

A chipmunk chattered at him angrily.

Laughing, Meekal cat hissed at him.

“Tsk, tsk,” Shayla joked. “You’re bigger than he is, you know.”

Meekal grinned and shrugged. “You’re still worried about telling your mum.”

They stepped to the side to allow a runner to pass.

“Just tell her you have to go back for a while.” He paused, scrutinizing her closely. “You are going to come back. Right?”

Shayla chewed her lower lip, stopped on the wooden footbridge and turned to look down the crevice that cut the Gorge’s hillside. Finally, releasing her lip, she answered. “Yes, I’m going back. I just don’t know how to tell her.”

Meekal leaned out over the rail, watching the flow of water on its journey down hill. “How about, ‘Mum, I’m going back to England.’”

“It’s not that simple, Kal.”

“Why not?”

“Well,” she sighed. “She was mad at me for going in the first place. You have to understand, she doesn’t have anyone else.”

Meekal squeezed her hand. “She isn’t losing you. With magic, you can travel easily.”

“What do you mean?”

“Shay, you don’t think I got on a plane and came here, do you?”

Shayla growled, pulled her hand out of Meekal’s, and stomped up the path. She headed for the high rocks, gaining momentum until she was at a run. She loved the embracing energy of the rock’s crevice. Ignoring it, she climbed. The highest point of massive rock outcroppings became her goal, especially since she knew that Ranger Rick was busy filling out paperwork about Cathee’s accident.

Speeding up, Meekal closed in. Once at the top, he reached for her. “Shay, I thought you were past fearfulness about wind-riding.”

Shayla took a deep breath and looked out over the park’s steep slope. The sparkling water below called to her in soothing whispers. The rustling of bare oak branches on the fall breeze added to nature’s music. It caressed her hair. She exhaled, dropped her shoulders, and allowed the cleansing breath to calm her. “I’m okay over short distances, but long distance is another matter.”

”Okay. You’ll get used to it. We don’t have to do it in one leap.” Meekal stepped behind her and began massaging her shoulders.

She leaned back, accepting his ministering hands. “There’s another hard part—telling Mom that I’m using magic. What about the other things I learned? She has a right to know.”

“Magic is a part of you. It’s who you are, Shay. Yes, you should tell her. About Brinawell, I mean.” His voice disappeared into her hair.

The timbre of his voice sent shivers through her. She leaned closer, melding with him.

Meekal sent his hands around her, settling on Shayla’s stomach. “She loves you. It will be hard at first, but she’ll eventually accept the situation. I’m not sure what you should tell her about Syther, that’s up to you.”

She pulled his arms tighter, closed her eyes and focused on the feel of him. “Kal?”

“Humm?” He nibbled on her ear, too busy to speak.

“Let’s go home.”

Meekal’s arms tightened.

They spun on a soft breeze.

“You mean Shayla is out?”

“Oops.” Shayla looked into her mother’s angry eyes. They arrived in Shayla’s bedroom, arms wrapped securely around each other.

The sound of Claire Brinawell’s voice raked over them. “What was that?”

Shayla winced. “Hi, Mom.”

“Don’t ‘hi Mom’ me. What was that and who is this?” Claire’s angry gaze locked on Meekal.

Shayla held his hand in a tight grip. “Mom this is Meekal Magdal-eder Chilkwell. We met in Glastonbury.”

Claire huffed. She made a motion, pointing to where they had landed. “What was that?” she reiterated, this time glaring at Meekal.

“Wind-riding,” he said calmly, extending his hand to shake hers. He turned on his sexiest Brit accent and smiled, showing off his dimple. “Nice to meet you, Ms. Brinawell.”

Claire took his hand, shaking it abruptly. She returned her angry focus to Shayla, adding an arched brow of inquiry.

“Mom, I know you’re angry.” She sighed, and then tugged on Meekal’s hand, pulling him into the hall, and then kitchen.

Barb and Claire followed.

Shayla sat on a barstool. “Have a seat, Mom. We have a lot to talk about.”

“Humph.”

Shayla bit the inside of her cheek. “Mom, Meekal’s family is Guardians of the Chalice Well at Glastonbury.” Shayla decided to be short and to the point. “So are we.”

Claire shifted her angry gaze between Shayla and Meekal. “That’s nonsense. There is no way you can make such a definitive statement. Does he know we have no family history? Even your father, whoever he really was, did a disappearing act after you were conceived.”

“He knows that we didn’t know about our history.” Shayla paused, chewing her upper lip because the lower was sore. She reached for Meekal, seeking perseverance.

Claire watched their interaction.

Barb moved around the bar, opened the refrigerator and pulled out four cans of cola. Spreading them around to everyone, she then pulled out a bag of chips. Smiling at Meekal, she said, “I eat when I get into nervous situations. You have brought a load of stress.”

“Barb,” Shayla said sternly.

Barb shrugged, bit into a chip and offered the bag to Meekal.

“No thanks.” He popped the tab on his cola and smiled at Claire again. “I do know of your history and the problems you encountered when you used magic as a child. Shay told me some of it. I hope you know not everyone has those experiences.”

It was plain to see Shayla’s mother was not satisfied. Eyes round and expressive, she insisted, “What difference does that make? It’s my reality and I am adamant about protecting my daughter.”

“Mom, we know that. But I don’t need your protection now.” 

“I’m your mother. That won’t change.”

“If you’ll let me finish I can explain.”

“Humph.”

“I learned some things about us when I met Meekal, Mom. Here.” She stopped speaking and waved her hand over the countertop. A sheaf of papers appeared.

Claire gasped.

“This is just some of the notes I made,” Shayla said calmly. “Chaeli, Meekal’s mom, let me use some old journals she bought. I learned that Ayden Brinawell came to the US after WWII. He is your grandfather.”

Claire took the papers, looking down at them.

“Mom.”

She looked up, scowling.

“He’s still alive.”

Claire’s hands shook. Holding Shayla’s gaze, she started trembling. Her eyes rolled back into her head, and she slipped bonelessly to the floor.

Shayla jumped up and ran around the bar. She was surprised when she knelt next to her mom to find a soft pad under her. She looked up at Meekal. “Very funny.”

He grinned, giving one of his half shrugs of nonchalance.

Claire moaned, coming out of her faint.

Barb, who was picking up the scattered papers, asked, “What’s this about an estate?” She pointed to the notes.

Shayla placed her hand behind her mother, helping her to sit up. “Don’t get excited. Kal and I’ve already visited it. Ayden Brinawell is a recluse.” Shayla helped her mom to stand, and led her to a chair in the great room. “Mom, he knew you were alive.” Shayla hesitated, studying her expression.

“Why? How?”

“He disowned Grandpa when he married.”

Claire’s emerald eyes looked into hers. A wracking sob escaped.

“Grandma was a witch,” Shayla said gently. “Brinawells have always been magical. It comes from a mixture of being Fae, and witch. Mom, it’s who we are.” She hugged her close, making circles on her back. “Ayden Brinawell didn’t like grandma because she was too much of an American witch.”

“That’s crazy.” Barb’s voice cut through the room, expressing distain.

“Sure it is,” Shayla replied. “He was stubborn about it. The only reason Chaeli knew about it was she has lived in the US. The journals were something she bought at an estate auction in upstate New York. She had them stored in an attic cubbyhole at Chilkwell Manor and never read them.”

“I can’t believe any of this,” Claire said, eyes lined with shock and denial.

“It’s true, Mom.”

Claire Brinawell rose from her seat like a vengeful bird. “If that’s true, then why was I in a convent? How is it that I was told that I don’t have any family?”

Shayla stood in an effort to be level with her. “Mom, I said he disowned Grandpa. The records are sealed. We have no way of finding out the truth. Kal and I went to the estate. It’s like I said, he lives there. The bastard has pictures of you and me at our college graduations. He was there, mom. Other than that he’s a sneaky bastard, we don’t know much else.”

Claire wavered, and returned to the chair. “Shayla, I just don’t know where to begin or what to believe.”

“I know, Mom. When I get back from England, we can go there. We’ll even ring the old codger’s door bell and make him answer some questions if you like.”

“You’re going back to England?”

“Yes,” she replied with a quick glance at Meekal. “There are some things I have to take care of. I promise, I’ll come home as soon as I can.”

[17] Silver & Gold Concentric Circles

The rain fell in thick sheets, landing with pings around her, washing in rivets down the sides of cars to meet the ground. “Ugh.” Shayla allowed her distaste of the weather to blend in with the moisture.

“Shayla, hurry.”

“Kal, this is the worst I’ve ever seen it rain and I’ve seen hurricanes.”

“It’s just a little water. Besides, don’t hurricanes have a lot of wind?” His voice rang with amusement as he winked at her from beneath his hood.

“That’s not funny,” she quipped when he pulled her under the overhang of a building’s door front. The sudden embrace of cool bricks behind her served to calm the sensations working through to her toes. Her raincoat was in her bag, shrunk to fit her pocket. A quick appraisal of the street showed her that everyone had taken shelter from the sudden cloudburst.

“Here.” Meekal’s hand shimmered down her side, leaving dryness in its wake. The change in her clothing spun warmth within. She stepped closer to him and brushed her mouth across his wet cheek. Strong arms wrapped her in security. “We could just wind-ride home,” he breathed into her ear.

“I suppose that’s a good idea. Does everyone know we’re coming?”

“We’re early. I spoke with mum this morning and told her to expect us this evening.”