Authors: M. Leighton
As the coffeemaker gurgled and hissed, I perched on the edge of a barstool to open the mysterious package. Out of it I pulled a packet of papers, fastened together with a big alligator clip. Lying loose on top of the bound papers was a cover letter typed on heavy, high-quality stock. As I suspected, Lewis, Lewis and Schmidt was a law firm and evidently this letter was from the desk of Byron Allsley.
Dear Carson:
I was so sorry to hear about your father. He and I have known each other since before you were born. He was a good man and he’ll be greatly missed.
I helped your father with the legal technicalities that arose when he and your mother separated. Since then I have handled many of his private and financial affairs as well as various things of a more delicate nature, things he wouldn’t entrust to a stranger. It is in regards to some of those matters that I am contacting you.
Firstly, you will find a plain white envelope clipped to the front of the enclosed package. It is a letter that your father asked me to get to you in the event he did not return from his recent trip.
Secondly, you will find a variety of statements and documents that will, for the present, mean very little to you, though they are of great importance and should be kept in a secure location. They pertain to your father’s considerable estate. He has been saving and investing money for many years with the sole intention of providing you with financial stability and independence in the event of his untimely death.
Until you turn eighteen, the trust, of which I am Trustee, will issue you a monthly stipend that will more than cover your living expenses. Included in the enclosed packet is the checkbook, register, and debit card for that account and all the pertinent access and contact information.
Thirdly, in deference to you, your father has made me Executor of his will. Therefore, you won’t be bothered with all the minutia of settling his estate. The most important thing is that all his possessions are yours, free and clear of any liens. That includes the house and only the one vehicle. As a result of the accident, there were extensive damages to his truck. The insurance adjustor totaled it.
Should you have questions, and I’m sure you will, please don’t hesitate to call me.
I skimmed through the remainder of the letter where he expressed his condolences again and then listed phone numbers at which he was reachable.
Private and financial affairs? My dad? And a trust fund? That sounded like we were rich. What else was there that I didn’t know about my family, about my life? It seemed like a never-ending string of revelations lately—s
hocking
revelations.
Putting Mr. Allsley’s letter aside, I plucked the envelope from beneath the clip and ripped it open. A lump formed in my throat when I saw that it was penned in my father’s bold, clear handwriting.
Carson:
Time ran out on me, kiddo, faster than I ever thought it would. I want you to know I wouldn’t have taken this trip if I’d felt like there was any other way, especially since it turned out like this. Maybe I made a little progress at least. You’ll know soon enough.
I am setting out today to find your mother, do something I should’ve done a long time ago. I want to find your sister. I believe we can save her, Carson. Of course, now it’s not “we”, it’s “you”. It’s all up to you. I don’t know what’s ahead for either of you, but I have faith in God’s plan, in His perfect will. And to Him, there are no lost causes. He’ll see you through whatever the future holds.
Don’t grieve for me, butterfly. I’ve moved on to a better place, a place where I can see you again one day. Don’t forget that.
I love you more than I could ever say. You are the most amazing thing I’ve ever done, my most valued treasure. You’re truly a light in the darkness.
Don’t give up. There’s always another way, another choice, another option. Make the most out of every minute. Do what you say and say what you mean.
Dad
The letter was typical of my father—short, to the point, without wasted sentiment. Even through my tears I had to laugh at the Porter wisdom he’d managed to impart there at the last. He had a saying for every occasion. Had.
I don’t know how long I sat in the kitchen like that, thinking, reminiscing, worrying, but it was long enough for Leah to be up and about.
When she stumbled into the kitchen, still half asleep, I poured us each a hot cup of coffee and put the envelope away for the time being. I’d bring it all out and mull it over after she’d gone.
Though I’m sure she could tell I was distracted, Leah and I still had a pleasant enough day. She undoubtedly expected some odd behavior from me, all things considered.
Her mom called just before supper, asked if I’d come home with Leah and eat with them. I politely declined with the excuse that I had some things to take care of around the house. I could tell she wanted to argue, but, wisely, she thought better of it and said nothing.
With Leah gone, I had some blessed peace. It was bittersweet, though. The quiet seemed so much more quiet, the encroaching darkness so much more threatening, the future so much more bleak. It did give me time, however, to hatch the beginnings of a plan, the first step in which was to get Derek to teach me how to “wield” as he called it. If I was to go forward with any plan that involved staying to fight, I’d need to know
how
to fight. And not just the things Dad had taught me. I needed to master the supernatural things, the things that I could possibly use to save both me and my sister. If that was possible.
CHAPTER TWELVE
It seemed October had just arrived, but here it was nearing Thanksgiving. The weeks had passed quickly since that Sunday when Derek had come back and agreed to train me to use my powers. I spent my days at school and my evenings with him, usually in the woods. He said it was the most like what I’d find over there—dark, cold, harsh, unstable.
We still hadn’t been able to find out what Fahl really wanted with me, so Derek trained me based on the assumption that I would be fighting my twin, as he had done. I could tell he was convinced there was much more to it than that, though. When I asked, he’d say things like i
t’s a lot of little things,
very casually, though his attitude was anything
but
casual.
And there was another thing. Things that seemed insignificant to me would trouble him deeply. Like the fact that, even though I’d learned to control my power, I still felt an incredible thirst when I wielded. According to Derek, my thirst should only be present when my powers are out of control. And that was just one of the things that differed from his experience. There were more.
Another was the strength of my powers. It nearly rivaled Derek’s, though I doubted I’d ever be a match for him. He was incredibly intuitive and strong, defeating me often in our sparring, despite his lack of experience with wielding earth.
Once I even created a small earthquake that caused the ground to open up and swallow him. I’d been prepared with some vines to make sure I could haul him out, but I’d underestimated his speed. He’d managed to grab onto some tree roots as he fell. He climbed out and surprised me with a fireball that singed the hair on my arms.
“Always make sure you’ve finished the job,” he lectured as he approached. “Don’t turn your back on an opponent until you confirm, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that they are dead.”
“I know, I know,” I moaned, rubbing the scorched, curling hairs off my arms.
“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” Concern creased his brow and drew his eyebrows together as he took my hands in his to examine my arms.
As always, any contact with him sent a bolt of lightening straight to my core. “No, you didn’t hurt me,” I said breathlessly.
He was so close I could smell his scent over the odor of burnt hair. His eyes rose to mine and sparks flew. Immediately, I felt the tension in him, his reaction to our nearness rivaling mine.
Often, I think his desire for me surprised us both, as did his intense response to it. Like now. His hand shot out, faster than a snake could strike, and grabbed me at the nape of my neck, pulling me forward until our lips met.
The kiss was instantly passionate, burning as hot and out of control as some of my fires. Only Derek couldn’t use water to put out these flames. It was only his self-control and determination to leave my purity in tact that kept our make-out sessions from escalating, though a couple had progressed to a dangerous point.
His tongue delved into my mouth and I slid my hands into his hair to hold his lips to mine. I stretched up on tiptoe, pressing my body to his, craving the contact.
His hand left my neck and, a second later, I felt both his palms at my hips. They moved down to knead my butt before traveling lower, to the tops of my thighs. I felt his fingers tighten, digging into my flesh, and he lifted.
Automatically, my legs wrapped around his waist. The contact of our bodies in such an intimate way was nearly more than I could bear. I tightened my legs around him, desperate for him to do something,
anything
to end the sweet torture. Derek moaned and a wave of chills rolled down my back.
I tore my mouth from his, gasping for air, my body on fire. I felt his teeth nip at my lower lip and my chin then I felt his hot breath at my ear. I wiggled against him, needing more than what he was giving me.
For an instant, his tongue slipped inside my ear before it blazed a hot trail down my neck to my collarbone. I felt one hand come up to press between my shoulder blades, forcing my body toward his mouth. The action pushed my breasts against his chest, my nipples tightening and tingling in response.
Liquid heat poured through my body and pooled in my core, threatening to explode, the pleasure was so intense. I heard his name slip from my lips, a plea for him to finish what he’d started.
And then I was on my feet, the heat of Derek’s body gone, my head and hormones reeling. He held me at arm’s length, literally, his breathing as ragged as mine.
“Don’t push me, Carson,” he panted.
“But—”
“No buts. You know we can’t.”
“But—”
“No, Carson. It’s for your own good. Believe me, purity will work in your favor over there. He can use anything, any vice, any weakness, to his advantage. He’ll exploit everything he can find.”
“How do you even know that?” I knew I sounded like a petulant child, but at that moment, I didn’t care. My body was still on fire.
Derek stopped and gave me the strangest look, a look that caused my desire to shrivel. “Because he exploited all of mine,” he said flatly.
Other than more questions, I had nothing to say. So I said nothing. I knew that now wasn’t the time to poke and prod what looked to be a painful wound.
Derek continued as if the awkward moment had never happened. “Over the years I’ve picked up a lot of useful information, too,” he said nonchalantly.
“From where?”
“Some from just living, living
cursed.
”
“Where else?”
His expression steeled, a belated indication that I’d inadvertently hit another sore spot, but this time it aggravated me. Playing his cards and his life so close to the chest just left me in the dark. How was I supposed to know where his emotional landmines were? And it hurt to think that, as much as I trusted him, he didn’t reciprocate. And
that
made
my
trust waver.
Cue my temper.