Falling Into Place (17 page)

Tremaine cleared his throat, and concern
laced his tone. “Is that it? Are you having the nightmares
again?”

“I drink to shut them out. Otherwise I
relive a chapter of my own personal hell. You know that.”

“What can I do to help?”

“Let me stay home.” Her laugh was short, she
knew better. “I’m a mess. I shouldn’t go to the party. Christian
would understand. Hell, I don’t know why that boy puts up with me
when I’m like this. I’ve never been good at the whole family
thing.”

“Sure. He would forgive you. Doesn’t mean
you would. If you show up drunk off your ass, you’re going to hate
yourself worse in the morning. So I’m babysitting you until we
arrive. I know you love that kid as if he were your own.”

She did. He was an orphan, like her. Old
Lady Murdock had raised him. The old woman was the closest thing to
family she had besides Tremaine.

“Fine,” Liz muttered. “You win. He’s going
to hate me when he realizes I’m a raging bitch the whole night.”
She dropped her head against the wall and stood there as the
scalding water eased her muscles.

“You may have your moments, but you are not
a bitch.” Tremaine said gently.

She turned toward him, tipping her head back
to rinse her hair. Through her lashes, she caught him watching her
with an all too familiar heat in his gaze. For the millionth time
she had to remind herself that if he wanted her, he would have made
his move forever ago.

Liz lathered up her hands and washed
herself. She opened her eyes as her hands swept over her
breasts.

His gaze darkened as he looked away, and she
would swear she saw a hint of a blush under the scruff.

“What are you going to wear to the party?”
Trem asked gruffly.

“I’m still looking for a way out of it,” she
complained, mostly to keep him arguing with her. “I know no one
will let me, but if I go anywhere near Christian sober, he’s going
to be all over me, trying to figure out what’s bothering me like he
does every damned year.”

One of these days she was going to break
down and tell him the whole story. She’d probably scar him for
life, but one day she’d crack.

Liz let the spray wash the soap away before
she shut off the water and stepped out of the shower. She snagged a
towel and stepped in front of Tremaine.

His eyes locked on hers as a devilish smirk
twisted his lips. “The boy has a huge crush on you. Who
wouldn’t?”

She rolled her eyes. “I feel like his aunt
or something. I could only corrupt him.” She shuddered. Besides,
Christian was way too young.

“You would be that favorite aunt every
nephew fantasizes about.” Tremaine waggled his brows.

“Seriously, shut the hell up. He’s perfect
with Delilah, and I’m old enough to be his great, great
grandmother.” She tossed the towel on the counter and crossed her
arms under her chest.

His gaze dropped to her breasts for half a
second before bouncing back to her eyes. “You may be older, but you
are one of the most powerful mages I know. You know that means we
live a hell of a lot longer than your average human. You look like
you might be twenty-five on a bad day.” He winked.

Not that he looked much older. The unshaven
look did seem to add of couple years to his youthful face. “Yeah,
but I know how old I am. I remember Old Lady Murdock changing
Christian’s diapers back when he was tiny. He’s family, nothing
more.”

He pointed toward her room. “Stop stalling
and get dressed. I brought some of Dakota’s brew to help with your
headache, and you know you’ll feel better when you get some food in
your stomach.”

“Yeah, yeah.” This was a battle she knew she
wouldn’t win so she gave in, if only because spending her day with
Tremaine would help keep her mind off Robert.

* * * *

James stood in the cove of black cherry
trees outside their old family home. Robert was the only one who
lived there now, and it was warded against him. That wasn’t a
surprise, it was a spell Robert had cast over two decades ago,
shortly after their father passed away.

The day after their
father’s funeral, James decided to go in search of the magical
artifacts that dear old dad had stashed away. He hurried up the
walkway but was
thrown
back before he made it halfway.

“
Fucking wards,” he snarled, holding his
hands out as he edged forward. The jolt sizzled through his fingers
and up his arms the second he touched the barrier, but tried to
push forward. Heat blazed against his skin and his shirt caught
fire as electricity arched off the invisible wall to wrap around
him.

The fire was likely Robert’s magic, but the
lightning was all Liz, and her wards were infallible.

That had been twenty-five years before, and
he could still feel the spell as if it were waiting until it could
lash out at him. Funny how some spells had a memory.

That was why Jarvis had to deposit Emily on
the porch. James had kept an eye on the place, but Robert’s
presence was still there, unless his brother had learned a way to
cloak his absence before translocating away.

James needed Robert to lead him to Liz,
unless Jarvis could find her. Unfortunately, following Robert
always proved impossible.

* * * *

Emily was safe with the druids, and now it
was time to see what she hid. He made his way to the attic where
Liz’s things were stored, mostly the things his mother insisted on
buying her.

Her trunk held many memories. They had
exchanged hundreds of secret letters. He stayed away from the attic
because it made the memory that much fresher, digging a little
deeper.

Dropping to his knees, he grazed his hands
over the wood. Elizandra had spelled a magical compartment into the
chest.

Emily had been jealous that Liz had
something Emily couldn’t access. She had started calling it
Lizard’s hole. If only Emily would have given her a chance from the
beginning. By the time Emily realized how wrong she was, it was too
late.

Tremaine never stopped trying to convince
Robert to man up and go to Liz. After months of missing her, he
finally gained the courage to ignore her final words. He found her
curled up beside Tremaine, staring into the fire. She looked so
lost, but Tremaine held her, watching her with such deep love that
Robert refused to take that from him.

From then on, he went to watch Liz. It
became apparent that Liz felt for Tremaine what she once felt for
him. No matter what Tremaine said, Robert knew he was too late.

A tear trailed down Robert’s cheek as he
opened the lid and whispered the spell. His hand slid into the
pocket and he grabbed a leather bound journal, but he felt a thick
piece of paper. He pulled both out and stared at the folded note.
It had Robert scrawled across in blue ink, Liz’s favorite
color.

He hurried down the stairs and set the
letter and the book on the table. It was one of Emily’s leather
bound journals. Before he could bring himself to open the note, he
filled his old fashioned kettle and turned the stove on.

Taking a deep breath, he sat down and
unfolded the letter first. Her tears had stained the paper, and his
chest ached.

Why didn’t I ever look in there?

Dearest Robert,

I will never have the words to apologize for that
morning. How can I expect you to forgive me when I will never
forgive myself? You were at death’s door because I couldn’t tell
you apart from James.

You may hate me after reading this, but I had to
finally explain. James came to me wearing your face. Before I could
send him away he attacked. He stole your child from me. He took
everything from me, even you, Robert.

I am sorry, so terribly sorry. I never wanted to
hurt you. My heart will always be yours, even if you never forgive
me.

Love always,

Elizandra

Tears ran down his face as he stared at her
words. He knew James had hurt her, but their baby? He could hardly
breathe. The blood, the way she clutched at her stomach, it all
made sense now.

No wonder she woke in a panic and nearly
killed him.

Then reality hit him. She
left him the message, and waited for him. His heart pounded in his
chest.
She must think I hate her.
Twenty-one years and I never once made an effort.

The shrill cry of the kettle startled him.
His hands trembled as he poured the steaming water over his Earl
Gray tea.

If I had taken Tremaine’s advice, I could
have mended things. Too late, always too late.

Robert opened Emily’s journal. What his
sister documented was worse than he ever imagined. James had abused
her from the very beginning. He was the one who turned her against
Liz. After everything James put her through, she brought him back
from the brink of death. When she couldn’t rehabilitate him, she
stopped healing his body, leaving him wrecked.

He couldn’t fault Emily for that, but James
had broken free, which explained the state he found Emily in. He
was out for revenge. Now that he was done with Emily, he was going
after Liz.

No matter what he promised her, even if Liz
and Tremaine were together, he had to go to her. He couldn’t stand
by while his brother tore her apart.

* * * *

After waiting for some sign of Robert’s
departure, two young Silver Council Enforcer recruits pulled up.
The woman threw the door open and walked around the front of the
SUV with her hands on her hips. The male joined her with a
glare.

James listened to the argument, hoping for
some clue where to find Liz. The male stared the young woman down.
“Come on, Angela Renee. You’re being ridiculous. You’re the one who
wants to prove yourself. So take your holier-than-though attitude
around the house and see if you can find out who or what was
trespassing on Robert’s property.”

“You’re an asshole,” she snarled, but she
turned on her heel to march around the old building.

Angela walked toward him and kept going,
never sensing his presence. As soon as she was out of sight of the
other mage, he stepped in behind her and covered her mouth. James
reached out with his will and drew her magic into himself.

He breathed in deep, and her energy ebbed
from her as it flowed into him. She screamed against his hand and
tried to twist free but he pulled too hard and too fast. The skin
around her mouth shriveled up, much like the rest of her flesh. Her
dark hair faded to silver gray in seconds as her muscle mass
shrank.

Raw power flooded his body, filling in his
atrophied muscles as the young mage withered and died in his arms.
He dropped what was left of her, feeling better than he had since
before his forced slumber. As he made his way around the house, he
morphed his appearance to that of Angela.

He found the other mage who had started to
walk around the other side of the house. James called out, “Hey,
there’s nothing back there.”

The guy nodded but made his way back. “Did
you even try?”

“You really are a fool,” he sneered as he
placed a hand over the man’s face and drew his energy in a rush.
The flow was so fast that the man crumbled into dust before he
could fall to the ground.

James dug around in the mage’s pockets until
he found the keys to the Explorer. It was time to find Jarvis and
figure out their next move.

Tremaine sat on Liz’s bed, waiting for her
to finish dressing in her closet. Christian’s party would start
soon, but at least she was no longer stalling.

She kept muttering about looking for a
reason to bail, but he knew she wouldn’t. Liz hated dodging
Christian’s questions about what was wrong. The kid was smart, he
knew she would answer if and when she was ready, but that didn’t
mean he would stop asking.

His phone buzzed.
Frowning, he pulled it out of his pocket to see a text from
Robert.
T – Emily is in bad shape. James is alive and
looking for Liz. I’ll be at the party. I need to talk to her. –
R

Well shit, Tremaine hoped Emily was
okay.

Liz was another story. She was already in
her yearly funk. Tremaine could see the whole night spiraling out
of control. He wanted the two of them to work their shit out, but
not on the anniversary of everything falling apart. Still, if James
was back, he was probably out for revenge and Liz wasn’t safe on
her own.

“What’s the frown for?” Liz asked as she
stepped into the room in a sexy little black dress that lovingly
smoothed over her long, lithe body. As always, she was stunning.
She was built like a dancer, and easily as graceful. Her hair was a
wild mane of colors, her eyes a mix of gold and green that were
framed by the longest lashes he’d ever seen. Her full pouty mouth
begged to be tasted.

For the millionth time he reminded himself
that she was meant for Robert. His love for Liz had started off
innocent, that of a protector. Somewhere after she grew into a
woman, he started a slow fall.

“What is it, Tremaine?” She asked in a low
voice as she marched over.

He slid his phone into his pocket with a
shrug.

“Don’t give me that shit. Something’s up.
You don’t ever look this serious without a good damned reason.”

“You know I don’t approve of the way you
cope with this time of year.” Tremaine managed a smile but her eyes
narrowed. “Come on, Liz, tonight will be fine.” Until she saw
Robert, that is.

“I gave up this morning. I’m going. Look,
I’m even dressed.” She waved a hand up and down her dress. “Can we
get going? The sooner I get there and wish Christian a happy
birthday, the sooner I can get to drowning away the
nightmares.”