Yearnings: A Paranormal Romance Box Set (105 page)

Leigh agreed not to tell anyone who the woman was, and decided not to ask, either. The woman’s visage filled in, and Leigh no longer needed to ask. The woman could be Beatrice’s twin. Grant’s and Beatrice’s mother? Oh, thank heavens! Certainly, of all the spirits on the other side, Tristan’s grandmother would be the best to help them. Beatrice sat next to her and gripped her hand so hard it hurt.

“
What is it?” Beatrice hissed desperately.

Leigh gave Beatrice’s hand a squeeze.

She asked the ghost, “Where is Tristan?”

The ghost’s gaze darted toward the door. She put her hands to her face and rushed to hover in front of Leigh.
Unspeakable
.

Worry rapidly replaced Leigh’s joy. In her periphery, she heard Duchy’s jingling collar. She had to remember the girls, to keep them safe and not scared, by taking things slowly. “Please. If you tell me where Tristan is, I promise you I will find him and bring him back safely.”

Can’t come back.

Leigh’s frustration mounted. Tristan was the ghost’s grandson. She had to help!

“
Please. Where is he?”

Here
.

“
Where specifically here? In this house? On the other side?” she asked the ghost with her mind.

Yes
. It was Leigh’s turn to grip Beatrice’s hand.

“
Tell me, please, help me find your grandson before it’s too late.”

The specter seemed terrified. Her empty-eyed gaze darted from one door to the next, as if at any moment someone would barge in. Leigh began to worry the woman was an attached one. Some ghosts were attached to the past so much so that they had difficulty separating their world from their memories. If the woman was looking for her husband about to enter, it could mean that Leigh couldn’t trust anything that the ghost said.

“
Do you understand that you’ve died? That your husband has passed as well?”

The specter’s eyebrows came down. For a long moment, she glared at Leigh.

Grant
.

Leigh’s heart panged. She missed him more than words could say, far more than she should. “Where is Grant?”

Here.

Those shoes. Leigh knew where she’d seen Samuel’s shoes before.

Here.....

~~~

Chapter Twenty-two

Lijuan’s thin arms hugged Grant tighter than he had ever been hugged, except by his mother. “
Linghun zei
,” she said again, hugging him, rocking him, saying good-bye. “
Ziu lingun
.”

“
Thank you,” he said, hugging her back, careful of her frail, aged body. She’d saved his life again, and his words could never be enough thanks. She would be saving more than his life with the liquid concoction tucked safely in his pocket. She would save Tristan’s, too. If he found the courage to drink what amounted to poison.

Time pushed him to hurry.

He pulled away and saw the final good-bye in her eyes. She cupped his face and he crouched lower so she could more easily. “
Ziu linghun.
”

“
Yes,” Grant said, understanding her meaning. After hours of comical acting out and drawing and translation, he finally understood her. Set the souls free. “I swear I will.”

He kissed each of her crepe-skinned cheeks. His heart almost crushed under the weight of his hope and determination. And love. Love for this woman who saved him. That night, she hadn't found a wolf, dying, and brought it back as a man as Leigh had dreamed. She’d invoked the wolf and then forged the bond that he and the wolf now shared. The wolf needed him as much as Grant needed it. The wolf had called upon Lijuan to save the souls and right the balance between light and dark.

The wolf led Lijuan to Grant that night. The wolf was the soul protector and had been searching for a vehicle to catch the soul thief. Grant was that vehicle. This time, Grant held no doubts about what Lijuan communicated to him, comical as it became at points. He felt the wolf now and so knew part of the story as she told it. That knowledge gave him certainty. The bone deep kind of certainty every man longed for in life.

Now, he understood what Jacob meant to Leigh. He had to admit, at times, he had envied their bond. He’d even felt threatened by it, fearing Leigh’s heart belonged elsewhere. But now, feeling such love for Lijuan, for his nephew, whom he would finally find. For his sister, who would have her heart again? For Leigh, for unlocking the final piece to this terrible enigma, and for so much more.

Grant felt whole again. And determined to see this plan through.

He skipped taking one of the waiting rickshaws and sprinted out of Chinatown’s borders. He couldn’t take a rickshaw home and his legs would carry him faster. He ran into the heart of San Francisco. There, he hailed a carriage and offered a fat reward for a fast journey home to his family’s estate. Beatrice would have arrived by now. He begged luck that Leigh would be there with Beatrice. He would need her help if he was going to pull off the intricate scheme he and Lijuan had concocted.

He would drink the concoction and enter the other side. There, with the wolf’s help, he would locate Tristan’s soul, and thereby the body housing it. The real trick would then be returning with the knowledge of where in the world that body existed, so that he and Nick could go to it and demand to know where Tristan was, release Tristan’s soul, and find him whole. If he dwelled on the details, doubts overwhelmed Grant. So he didn’t think about the plan.

He thought about Leigh.

He would need her guidance. And Jacob’s, too.

He had very little time to figure out a way to actually get that help, though. She had to be infuriated with him. He’d behaved beyond poorly. No matter how much she might hate him now, she loved his sister and would help find Tristan. The knowledge gave him a morsel of confidence. So many things had to go exactly right for this to work. What if Leigh was mad enough that she refused to help? If she was that angry, hell, Leigh might enjoy her part in the plan. After all, she would get to kill him.

Grant couldn’t help smiling as he paid the driver then took the stairs two at a time to the front door. His fist paused midair in a knock. A thunderous crash came from inside. His smile fell. Chucking propriety aside, he pushed the door open. “Beatrice?” he called out.

Another crash, Duchy’s barking and the sound of Samuel yelling sent Grant to the left. Panic tumbled through him. Where was Bea? Leigh? What in hell had happened? His old friend had a temper when pushed too far. Considering the news Beatrice may or may not have brought home, tensions must be high. He should have come sooner. He raced for the sitting room. The last thing he expected was to find Samuel glaring at Leigh, murder in his eyes. Leigh held a vase high, ready to hurl it.

“
Leigh! Samuel! Have you lost your mind?”

Leigh’s wide-eyed stare faltered, but neither person looked Grant’s way.

Nick Levitt barreled in the opposite door two seconds after Grant did. “Alive and well, I see,” Nick commented, as though weapons weren’t raised and ready by the two people between them. “Things got a bit off course, friend.”

“
Shut up,” Samuel spat, a jagged crystal shard in his raised fist.

“
Put it down, Samuel. We all know you won’t hurt anyone here. Whatever happened here, we can resolve it.”

Samuel ignored Grant and stalked forward. Leigh retreated in kind and sneaked a quick glance at Grant, then gave Samuel her full attention again. “Where is he?” Her voice wavered.

“
You’ll never find out,” Samuel spat and stalked Leigh backward again. “I’d rather die than tell you. Any of you. But, you’ll die first.”

Noooo! Grant’s mind went blank as he charged forward. Too late. Samuel caught Leigh by the wrist, deflected the heavy vase in her hands, and held the shard to her throat. Grant halted.

“
Not a step closer, either of you. This woman is going to leave my house one way or another.”

“
You don’t know what you’re saying, Samuel,” Grant said, hands out. Leigh’s eyes held to Grant. His heart stopped beating. “I swear on my mother’s grave Leigh is only here to help. I’ve seen what she can do firsthand.”

“
I’ll bet,” Samuel spat. “And I don’t care what she can or can’t do. She won’t be doing anything more here. Tristan will never come home again. He’s gone.”

Grant’s heart kicked back in gear at triple time. All he could see was the glass pressing Leigh’s throat, her skin denting under the pressure. He couldn’t lose her. Not merely for Tristan’s sake—for his own. Selfish or not, he loved her. He needed her. No matter what outcome they met tonight, he could not live the rest of his days without her.

His very soul screamed in fear. The wolf wanted out. It wanted to tear open Samuel’s throat. Grant barely held the animal in him in check. “Samuel, this isn’t you. Where’s the kid I climbed trees with, the guy I caroused with through college? Where’s the man who married my sister, swearing he’d love her ’til his dying breath? Don’t you realize? Your son is alive, Samuel. If you just let her go, I will bring him back tonight. I swear it.”

Samuel laughed. Cold dread slithered into Grant’s gut. Something was very, very wrong here. Beyond the obvious. Something about Samuel was off. Leigh released one hand from Samuel’s chokehold and pointed at the floor.

“
Tristan isn’t even my son,” Samuel said. “Did your whore of a sister ever tell you that? Yeah, I thought as much. Nope. Not my son. Not my problem.”

Rage coiled deep down in Grant’s bones. “Exactly. Which is why you’ll remove yourself entirely. Not your problem? Then leave now.”

“
Or what?”

Kill him.
“Or I’ll make sure you leave and never come back.”

“
No. I don’t think so.” Samuel dragged Leigh back. “I believe all of you can leave my home. Or Miss Hamilton will die.”

Nick remained as frozen as Grant. They could ambush him, but how fast could they attack. He glanced at Nick. Nick nodded, clearly ready. The wolf pawed and growled, and Grant realized he had no more than seconds. Maybe it was the only way. Maybe becoming the wolf would allow Nick to take advantage of a moment of distraction and save Leigh. Who would save Samuel from the wolf, though?

Leigh pointed downward. The floor, the shards, Samuel’s...shoes. Up, on his mouth, a shimmer. Grant couldn’t hold the wolf back any longer. Bones breaking. Muscles and tendons snapping, changing as his skin peeled back and his body changed. The golden shimmering color drained away as the wolf’s eyes began to see. The faint shimmer of golden light on Samuel’s lips, in his eyes, gone as it all went black and white.

The wolf didn’t need color to sense the soul caged inside. Growling, it lunged forward.

Yelling out, his fingers curled like talons, Samuel raised the shard high. Nick grabbed for Leigh. They tumbled together over a sofa and rolled to the side. Mindless to any risk or fear, the wolf leapt over the sofa. Grant was the wolf. The wolf was Grant. They were one and wanted to kill. His haunches strained. The sofa toppled. He opened his jaws and clamped down on Samuel’s jugular, muffling the man’s gurgling yell. The sharp glass shard punctured Grant’s pelt. The ground came slamming up. He held to Samuel’s throat tight, jerking his bite. The shard twisted too, and raped the space between his ribs.

Hot pain streaked through his rib cage and heart. Whining and growling, Grant locked his jaws down until Samuel’s jugular snapped between his fangs. The roses and the light told him to let go. The metallic taste of blood in his mouth, Grant limped back. His forelegs shook. His heartbeat came hard, knocking new pain through his body. Seeing someone approaching, instinct urged him to retreat. His human logic barely won out, remembering his plan. He had to get into human form again, and had to drink the concoction. He had to go find Tristan on the other side so that the wolf could know where to scent him out.

His vision blurred. Someone touched his sides, trying to get him on his stomach. Or side. He saw a woman hovering nearby, hands covering his mouth. His...mother? The inky dark of unconsciousness beckoned. Defeat crowded in around his heart. His wound was deep. Possibly fatal. If that was the case, he’d be damned if he would die as an animal, anonymous and only part of who he truly was.

Wincing at the throbbing, Grant shut his eyes tight. He focused on the sounds and sensations that emerged once he shut out the images.

“
Grant,” his mother’s voice said, faint and distant. “I can take you to him. But first you have to let go.”

“
No!” Leigh’s voice this time. “You cannot ask him to go with you. He won’t be able to return. Don’t you see? Can’t you see that?”

“
But Tristan needs him. I don’t have the strength. Tristan doesn’t know you. It’s the only way.”

“
No,” Leigh said. She was crying.

Grant’s tried to shed the wolf skin and shift back into a man. Deep, heavy fatigue weighed him down. He stopped trying. Only his heart still beat for Tristan. His mind began to wonder what all this fight was for. This place his mother existed in, this world his nephew might be in, was it so terrible after all?