Heart of the Witch (30 page)

"I'm not sure that would have been a good idea. Sorina was impressionable. Your appearance in her life and your stories about our father might have really done a number on her."

"Everyone deserves the truth. Deserves to know their history." The old woman clasped her wrinkled hands together on her lap. "Do
you
know your history? Why you feel that choking sensation?"

Ravyn barely held in her gasp. How did the woman know so much? Her insides tightened with apprehension, and she felt sure she didn't want to hear any more. "You need to leave."

"I don't mean to frighten you, I just want you to understand why you feel the way you do. It's because of your past life."

Ravyn knew she'd lived before, knew she'd lived many lives. That was part of her people's teaching. But she didn't know details—and she wasn't sure she wanted to. But her grandmother pressed on, oblivious.

"You were hanged as punishment for witchcraft. That is why you fear it so deeply. When they were about to hang you, you showed no emotion, no remorse. This just convinced them of your guilt. Your refusal to give in to your emotions was part of your downfall. And you still won't let yourself feel."

"For God's sake, I'm grieving for Sorina!"

The old woman nodded. "That's easy. She was your sister, and now she's gone. You have to learn to feel for someone who can return those feelings or reject you. You have to feel real emotion.
Risky
emotion."

Ravyn looked toward the window, where the moon shifted across the gauzy crimson sheers. Trying to keep her voice level, she said, "I've gotten by fine without it so far."

"Have you? Or have you missed out on things you aren't even aware of?"

Ravyn looked back at her grandmother and shrugged. "If I'm not aware I missed out, then I guess it doesn't matter, does it?"

A smile crossed the woman's face, and Ravyn realized it was an expression of pity. "Before they hanged you, you were in love. But you wouldn't let him know. He was going off to battle, and he told you he loved you. You wouldn't tell him the same. He left and never came back. The others with him said he seemed distracted and sad, and that was why he died. He couldn't concentrate. He had no fire, no strength. When you heard the news, you went a little crazy with guilt. You were starting fires, making it storm with your powers, causing destruction. They knew then that you were a witch, and they hanged you."

Ravyn shivered. Flashes of the time to which her grandmother referred slammed into her mind. "I remember," she whispered. Her throat began to close.

"Don't let your resistance to emotion make you hard, make you lose something you love. Don't repeat your mistake," her grandmother implored her.

Ravyn didn't speak for a moment, couldn't, until at last the sensation of asphyxiation began to recede. "I won't," she finally managed. "I know what I'm doing."

"Are you sure?" her grandmother asked.

"Of course! Besides, Nick's not going into battle, and I don't love him."

"Nick?" Her grandmother's shrewd eyes transfixed Ravyn. "Did I say anything about Nick?"

When Ravyn didn't respond, the old woman stood. "You're very strong, much stronger than me or your mother. You'll be fine. But you must try to remember your former life. I cannot tell you everything; some of it you must remember on your own."

"I don't want to remember!" Ravyn snapped.

"But knowledge is power, my dear. Even though it may be difficult, painful to think of such horrific things, sometimes facing up to them can help us gain the strength we need. And sometimes we are tested so that we can find the strength to face our pasts. And never, ever, underestimate the power of love. It's got a magic all its own, and with it, miracles can happen. One day, you'll believe. You'll learn it firsthand."

"You think so?" Ravyn's eyebrows rose skeptically.

"No, my dear. I
know
so."

Her grandmother rose without another word. She made her way to the door, and Ravyn followed, letting her out. On the porch, the woman turned back to her. "I hope someday you can forgive me. I hope one day we can be a family."

Ravyn was so intent on her grandmother's request that she hadn't heard the car pull up, but suddenly, Nick was stepping onto the porch. "Nick?" she said, confused.

"We need to talk."

Ravyn nodded and glanced at her grandmother, thinking to introduce them. "This is…"

"Nadine." Her grandmother extended a bony, arthritic hand. "I'm her neighbor."

"Nick Lassiter." The two shook hands, and Nadine gave Ravyn a knowing smile. Then she stepped off the porch and disappeared into the darkness.

Ravyn invited Nick inside, almost unconsciously putting a hand to her throat as she thought of what her grandmother had revealed. She'd always wondered, always wanted to know what the sensations meant. And now she knew. But what was she
not
remembering? What was she not facing? Was that just as important?

Nick waited while Ravyn closed the door. She turned and looked at him expectantly. Struggling to keep his emotions in check, he took her by the arms and pulled her toward him, brought her close enough that he could stare directly into her face. "Tell me the truth," he demanded.

Anger flashed in her eyes, and she tried to jerk away from his grip. "Let me go!"

"Not until you come clean."

Her struggles ceased, but the anger still simmered. "About what?"

"Your boyfriend, the photo. Tell me what the fuck you've done."

Her gaze searched his, and suddenly, in the silence of the room, he could hear the thumping of his heart as he waited for her answer. In spite of his suspicions, in spite of his concern for Marvin, he felt it again: that same desire, urge, whatever it was, drumming through his body as it did each time she was near. His skin felt tight on his bones, tingling with the need to touch Ravyn, to possess her, to feel her soft lips giving beneath his again.

"Let me go," she demanded. "Then I'll answer your insane accusations. But take your hands off me."

He released her and stepped back, jamming his hands in his pockets, needing to do something with them other than touch her.

"I don't have a boyfriend," she informed him. "If you're talking about Kayne, that was a long time ago. I have no idea what photo you're referring to, and no idea what the hell it has to do with Kayne."

He sighed, wanting to believe her—his instincts told him he should. But with all that had happened, he didn't know what to think anymore.

He decided to tell her the truth. Or at least half of it. "Your friend Kayne has been… stirring things up. Making threats. As you may recall, my wedding photo is missing. I've torn the house upside down and still haven't found it." He stopped there, damn sure he wasn't going to tell her where it had last been seen, wasn't going to tell her what he'd witnessed on the tape. "Also… Marvin is barely hanging on to his life after an explosion at my office."

Ravyn gasped and raised a hand to her mouth, then let it drop. "Oh, no! Is he going to be okay?"

Nick lifted a shoulder in a shrug. "He's in critical condition. They're not sure."

She stared at him, sorrow in her eyes. "I'm sorry about your photo and what happened to Marvin. And I have no idea what Kayne is up to. But why do you think these are related incidents? What kind of threats has Kayne been making?"

"Let's just say he's mentioned my name, and not in a favorable way. My wedding photo… Well, you're the only person who's been in my house in several weeks."

"Why on earth would I take your wedding photo?" Ravyn snapped. "You're not making any sense. I'd give anything to find and stop the maniac who killed Sorina, and who I assume hurt Marvin, but I don't know what Kayne has to do with it. I don't know what you're accusing me of, or why. Why?"

Seeing her confusion and pain, Nick sighed and shook his head. "Damn it, I don't know. I don't know."

She put a hand on his arm. "I'm sorry, Nick."

He gave her a small, humorless smile. "Sorry for what? Are you sorry that the motherfucker you were once sleeping with is a dangerous fanatic? Sorry that someone stole my wedding photo? Or are you sorry that I can't stop thinking about you, can't stop wanting you? Sorry that my desire for you is stronger than it ever was for my dead wife?" He grabbed her once more and pulled her to him. "Do you have any idea how crazy that is? How it makes me feel? I want you every second of every day. Even with people dying around me, even with the frustration and guilt of not being able to stop this murdering psychopath, I still want you."

They stood for a moment, mere inches separating them, their breaths ragged and mingled. Ravyn's lips parted and her eyes stared into his. He wasn't sure what he saw there, but he thought it was the same churning need he felt.

Before he could give in to the disastrous impulse to kiss her, his cell phone chirped. He exhaled a shaky breath and released Ravyn to answer the call. It was the fire chief.

"Lassiter, Furlan here. Our preliminary investigation shows a very small amount of explosive was used, probably the only reason your friend is still with us. The blast originated in the office on the southeast corner."

My
office
, Nick thought. That
was intended for me
. The Tin Man or Kayne had to have been involved. It was the only explanation. "Thanks."

"No problem. I'll let you know if I learn more."

Nick ended the call. "I need to go," he told Ravyn.

She nodded, rubbing her hands up and down her arms as if warding off a chill. "Was that news on Marvin?"

"Nothing's changed," Nick told her. It was a brusque reply, but for some reason he was reluctant to admit aloud that his tenant was clinging to life because some asshole wanted Nick dead.

Ravyn paced her living room, twisting her hands together, trying to think what to do next. Nick had left some time ago, giving her time to ruminate. She'd come to a few conclusions. Kayne was a part of what had happened to Sorina. He'd somehow helped the Tin Man. She recalled snatches of the dream she'd had the night Sorina disappeared—a dream similar to the one she'd had when Nick spent the night at her place. Except they hadn't really been dreams. Kayne, in some form, had actually been in her room. Yes. Kayne's stamp was all over this whole mess. So, most likely he'd been involved with everything else.

The explosion?

Of course. Both Kayne and the Tin Man were likely behind what had happened to Marvin. Something had to be done.

Grabbing her coat, she hurried to her car and drove to Nick's office, hoping he wouldn't be angry—or that he wouldn't find out what she was doing.

Firemen and the media swarmed the area like ants on a discarded crumb. Several civilians stood just outside the crime-scene tape. The front of the building was mostly intact, but the back was severely damaged.

Parking as close as she could to the building, Ravyn looked around. When she was certain no one would notice, she hurried inside. In Nick's office she walked here and there, stepping over shards of plaster, wood and glass. She touched what remained of the inner wall and stood silent, head bowed, for several moments. There wasn't much left.