Secret Of The Rose (Legacy Of Magick Series, Book 2) (14 page)

I found the shop easily enough, and I swung my truck into a nearby parking space. Before I could chicken out, I hitched my backpack style purse over my shoulder and marched directly into the store. The shop’s door jingled as I let it close behind me. I quickly took in the cases of jewelry, and I moved closer to admire the display cases that were filled with stones in a rainbow of sizes, shapes and colors.

Rough crystals and beautifully cut and polished gems were arranged on pale gray velvet. I went straight to the nearest case and peered down at all the specimens of crystals, gems and stones. “Wow,” I said.

“Can I help you?”

A young woman and a middle aged man had come out. The man came forward with a pleasant smile, and took up position behind the jewelry case.

“Hi. Sarah sent me,” I said. “I was complimenting her on her purple sapphire pendant and she told me to come and speak to her husband.”

“Sarah is my wife. I made the pendant,” the man said politely.

The store phone rang and the young woman went to answer it. “Sutherland Gemstones and Jewelry, may I help you?”

I psyched myself up. “Sir, I was wondering...” I began.

“You’re not here to shop for jewelry... are you?” The man smiled down at me his eyes intense.

“No sir,” I said. “Actually I was hoping you might be able to help me with some research. I’m a grad student here at the University, and I’ve been looking into my ancestry.” I peeped up to check his expression. He still seemed friendly, so I continued. “I came across an entry in my family tree of a
W Sutherland
. It was noted that she gave birth to a son in 1985. But other than that I don’t have any information on her.”

The man studied my face intently, but his hazel eyes didn’t seem angry. More like curious. “What is your family name?” he asked.

“Bishop,” I said meeting his eyes trying to look non-threatening. “My name is Autumn Bishop.”

He blinked at me. “Your father is Arthur?”

“He was. He passed away about two years ago.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Mr. Sutherland rubbed his hand across his chin. “I’m not sure what I can say to you.”

“I should have phoned first. Not just dropped in. But I didn’t know what else to try.”

“Come in the back and let’s talk privately.” Mr. Sutherland went to an open doorway and I followed him into a little office. He gestured to a chair and I took a seat. He had a quiet word with the sales person, then came in and sat across from me.

Since the door was open, I lowered my voice. “I’m sorry. When I saw the name on the business card, I followed my gut.” Saying that, I pulled the book out of my backpack and opened it to the marked page. “I only recently found my family tree, and was
very
surprised to see that there had been a connection to a W. Sutherland— and my father.” I turned the book around and pointed out the entry.

He slipped a pair of reading glasses on his nose and leaned forward to study the page. “Yes, I see,” he said softly.

“Do you know anyone by that name, Sir?” I held my breath.

“W. Sutherland would be my sister, Winifred.”

Whoa. Jackpot.
“Would it be possible for me to speak with her?” I asked.

Mr. Sutherland sat back in his chair with a sigh. “She relocated to the west coast almost thirty years ago. We’ve lost touch.”

“So,” I asked as carefully as I could, “did your sister have my father’s child in 1985?”

“Yes. It was a difficult time for my sister. She was barely nineteen when...” he trailed off, and seemed to be composing himself. “When she left town.”

I tried to think of the most delicate way to ask my next question. Mr. Sutherland seemed like a nice man and I didn’t want to upset him. I put the book back in my backpack. Taking a deep breath I asked, “What happened to the baby? Was he stillborn?”

Mr. Sutherland flinched. “Why would you think that? My sister gave up her rights to the child, and went to California to go to college, and for a fresh start.

It felt like I’d had the wind knocked out of me. “So you are telling me that the baby born in 1985, my father’s son, is still
alive
?”

“Yes, of course.”

“What happened to him? Was he given up for adoption?”

“You don’t know…” Mr. Sutherland trailed off as he studied me.

“Excuse me,” the salesperson interrupted. “Dad, we need to close up.”

“I’m sorry, Miss. I’ve said enough.” Mr. Sutherland stood up and formally held out his hand.

“What?” I balked, knowing I was being dismissed.

“You need to speak to your family about this. They will have the answers you are looking for. I can’t tell you anymore.” His expression was kind, but he appeared determined.

Numbly, I shook his hand. Obviously I wasn’t going to get anything else out of him. I slung the backpack purse over my shoulder, and followed him to the main door while my mind raced.
Alive! My brother was out there somewhere!

“Thank you,” I said as he opened the door for me. “Thank you for telling me the truth.”

“Good luck.” Mr. Sutherland smiled, and gently closed the door in my face.

I heard the door give a solid ‘click’ as it was locked, and I walked away blindly in the general direction of my truck.

I found myself sitting in my old pickup a while later. But did not remember getting there. I groped for my keys and started up the engine, while I tried to put together the pieces of what I knew.

It wasn’t uncommon for teenage girls to put their babies up for adoption in the 1980’s. In fact, keeping the baby was pretty unusual back then. There was a chance that my father and Winifred had known who the adoptive parents were
if
it had been an open adoption.

I wondered, had my mother known about that child? Unfortunately, now that my mother had basically disowned me for embracing the family’s legacy of magick, there would be no help from that quarter.

The legacy of magick...
Did that mean that my brother was out there dealing with the same things I had? Knowing he was different, having abilities but never understanding why or where they had come from? With the birth mother’s location unknown and my father being deceased, how the hell would I go about finding my half-brother?

Did Ro know?
Maybe that’s why she sent me looking for the family tree. Not only to remember her and my grandfather, but so I would find out about my half-brother. Obviously dad’s parents and sister had known about the baby...

His sister.
Gwen was four years older than my father. She probably knew most if not all of the details. And that thought propelled me into action.

“I’ve been tiptoeing around this issue for way too long.” I grabbed my phone, and called the manor. It went straight to the answering machine. Next I dialed Gwen’s cell, that too went to voice mail. She had to be around somewhere. I disconnected, clicked my seatbelt into place, and took off for the manor.

CHAPTER NINE

“Aunt Gwen!” I called as I opened the front door. “Anybody home?” I laid my bag on a table in the foyer and headed to the kitchen. Merlin came scampering down the stairs and ran to me like he hadn’t seen me in weeks instead of a few hours.

“Hey, where’s Gwen?” I asked the cat.

Merlin studied me for a moment, stuck his tail up in the air and strolled off. I went through the family room, peeked in the dining room, and checked the downstairs bedroom that Gwen used for an office.
Nothing.
I went through the kitchen and discovered Merlin sitting in the doorway of the potting room. There, I found the remnants of a spell that had been cast on the work table. Incense smoke still hung in the air, and a candle was burning inside of a large iron cauldron. Herbs and flowers surrounded the outside of the cauldron, and were arranged in a circle on the butcher block counter.

So somebody had been home and was casting.
I held my hands out over the cauldron trying to get a picture of what sort of spell had been cast. I got a quick flash of Gwen, chanting and scattering the flowers, but other than that... nothing.

I stuck my head in the garage and saw that while Gwen’s car was gone, Bran’s car was here. I bolted up the stairs searching for him. But other than Merlin, who seemed to think me running around the manor was a great game, I saw no one else. Usually I couldn’t even move around the manor without tripping over someone. But now that I really needed to speak to Gwen, she was nowhere to be found.

Damn it!
I sat on the top step of the second floor landing, studied the Halloween tree, and blew out a frustrated breath.
Maybe I should try and scry for Gwen? If I only knew where she’d stored that scrying mirror...
My thoughts were interrupted by Merlin. He sat in the back area of the second floor hallway, and gave a quiet kitty type of chirp.

“What?” I glanced over my shoulder in time to watch Merlin raise a white paw up in the air, as if he was batting at something. Curious, I got up and walked to the back part of the hall outside of Bran’s room, and promptly tripped— over thin air.

Now while ‘grace’ has never been my middle name, there was nothing on the floor for me to have tripped over. I backed up and considered the hardwood floor. I started forward very slowly with my hands out, in case I needed to catch myself—and again, felt one of my feet catch on something.

I literally couldn’t go any farther down the hallway. It felt like it was blocked. Merlin gave a soft meow and I realized what I was running into was
magick.
I dropped down to my hands and knees, without a clue of what I was searching for. But when I hunkered down and squinted at the floor, I could see a tiny ripple in the air, like a shimmer, or a heat wave coming off the asphalt on a hot day.

I pursed my lips as I stood and considered what I had walked in to. I couldn’t even get a sense of what was behind that magickal barrier, which made me feel very uneasy. I was starting to consider calling Duncan and asking for advice, when I heard the first moan.

My heart slammed into my throat as I listened intently. Yup, there it was again, and it sounded like a woman. Standing there in the hall— with my way blocked by magick— I imagined the worst.
What if Gwen was hurt, or trapped? What if Thomas Drake had gotten into the house and she was being tortured?

Because whoever was making those noises beyond that barrier, was in a world of hurt. I remembered Ivy’s black eye and bruises when we had rescued her from Julian Drake, and I panicked.

“Stand back, cat,” I said, and Merlin scampered back a bit. I concentrated on the magickal goal of raising energy, threw my hands down and out to my sides. For the first time, I felt power burning across my hands. I felt a rush of power roll through me, and my hands grew hot. I glanced down and saw energy building in my open hands.

Before I could really appreciate what I had accomplished, I heard a muffled scream. “That’s it,” I growled. I pushed the energy out in front of me, and ran forward as fast as I could— straight towards Bran’s room. I passed through that barrier with only a slight hitch in my stride, hit the bedroom door at a full run, and it crashed open.

The door bounced off the wall, as I came careening into Bran’s bedroom. It was dim, but I could see easily enough. What I discovered in a split second, was
not
someone being tortured.

Lexie and Bran were tangled together on Bran’s bed. Lexie’s back was to me, and she was naked as the day she was born. She was sitting in Bran’s lap, her legs wrapped around his waist, and her head was thrown back. Bran’s hands were gripping Lexie’s long blonde hair as it trailed down her back.

Bran’s head whipped up, and he looked at me mouthing the words, “
Get out!”
with a snarl.

Mother of god!
I slapped my hands over both of my eyes. I spun around and felt a solid push of energy hit me in back. It propelled me out of the room, and I quickly shut the door behind me.

Mortified, I bolted down the stairs with Merlin hot on my heels. I could hear Lexie’s screams reach a crescendo, and I grabbed my heavy bag and keys, and was running out of the house as fast as my legs would carry me. I dove into the truck, and the cat jumped in after me. He tucked himself on the floorboard of the passenger’s side. I slammed the door, started my truck, and spun out of the driveway, through the open gates and towards Duncan’s place.

I didn’t start to giggle until I was a few blocks down from the manor.
It was not funny.
I gave myself a lecture.

Aw hell, yes it was.

I couldn’t hold it back anymore, so I pulled my truck over to the side of road, dropped my head on the steering wheel, and howled with laughter. Oh. My. God.
And here I’d thought someone was being tortured...

The scene played back in my mind. Me banging down the door, thinking I was rescuing my aunt, when I had actually burst in on my cousin and
Officer
Lexie
. I don’t think Lexie had even noticed that I was in the room, as she had been kind of— distracted. I cringed and tried to wipe the image of them together on the bed, from my mind.

Nope. It was burned there. Probably for the rest of my life.

Well at least there weren’t any handcuffs...
and that thought had me losing it all over again. I wiped at the tears running down my face from laughing so hard, and pulled myself together. Merlin yowled from the floorboard, it sounded pathetic.

“You wanted out of there too, eh?” I turned on the truck radio to the local university station, and found they were playing Halloween music. I drove the rest of the way to Duncan’s little guest house, singing along with Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” on the radio, while Merlin seemed to caterwaul in time with the song.

A short time later, I stood on Duncan’s little front stoop and tried to knock while I juggled my heavy purse and a squirmy fifteen pound cat.

“Autumn!” Duncan seemed genuinely surprised when he opened the door.

“Got room for a couple of refugees?”

“What happened?” he asked and stepped aside to allow me to come in.