Book of Love (25 page)

I turned down Jane’s street, her house just
up ahead.

“
I don’t want to go home,”
she whispered, seeing the front porch light through the dying fall
trees.

I gripped the wheel, swallowing. A part of
me was elated, but also sad. “Where do you want to go?”

She shook her head, and I
could see the glimmer of tears in her eyes.
“Anywhere.”

I sped up as we passed her house. I didn’t
see Wes’s car in his driveway, but I knew that he and Emily were
safe. Something inside me told me so. Being that close to Wes had
allowed me to tap into his thoughts. He was a shape-shifter as I’d
originally feared the first day I’d brushed past him.

It was clear now that there was more magick
in Glenwood Springs than I’d originally suspected. The Priory
wouldn’t be happy to learn that it had gone undetected for so long.
They will want to get to Wes and Emily before the Black Angels do.
My brother would kill them if he knew, or if he already does know,
then he’s planning to recruit them to his side. I only prayed that
Greg didn’t notice what I had tonight; hoped he hadn’t yet narrowed
his focus on Wes. He was important.

I’d left the Priory, gone rogue, but I
feared that now that I was back, my old ties would resurface. The
Priory always regarded me as a strong force against the dark evils
of Greg’s world. They knew I had a special connection with him,
almost like a tap into their very plans. It was only a matter of
time before the Priory found out I was back, but at the same time,
I feared I needed them as much as they needed me. I knew I could
protect Jane on my own, but Emily wasn’t connected to me the way
Jane was. She needed the protection the Priory could provide.

I was confident that Emily’s clairvoyance
had given her a fair warning about Greg, and the shape-shifter
could also protect her. I just hoped she was smart enough to
recognize what Greg’s energy meant before he could suck her in.
Wes’s magick was stronger than ours. A shape-shifter is one of the
few beings that can defeat our kind. I don’t think Wes understands
that yet, but if my brother decides to reap again, as he has
before, Wes will learn the extent of his power soon enough.

I drove out of Glenwood Springs and down the
long highway toward Denver, where the road was lonesome and the
forest foreboding. I didn’t know where else to go, but I knew that
driving in a car always helped me to relax. Hopefully it helped her
the same way.

I knew how abandoned Jane felt. I knew she
had been forsaken by everyone she loved: her mother, her sister,
and worst of all, her father. I knew that what my brother did to
her family was uncalled for. Jane’s father was hardly a threat to
the Black Angels, but to put Jane in harms way in Greg’s vendetta
against her father was unforgivable. I had to save her. She was
innocent.

“
I haven’t been honest with
you.” Her voice was almost foreign as it cut the silence. I was so
lost in my own guilt that I’d nearly forgotten she remained beside
me. I cursed myself, knowing that her words should have been
something I’d initiated. Especially after a night like tonight
where I allowed my own demons to rise. I had plenty of explaining
to do.

I swallowed.

“
I dream
about death, Max, like your grandfather does.” She paused as though
waiting for my reaction, but I remained still. She went on. “I feel
as though I should have died with my father in the car wreck. I’m
here without a purpose, because my purpose was to pass on.” Her
words were like a knife, sharp and to the point. “As I told you
before, my father died when I was seven. What I didn’t tell you was
that I was also there. I think I have Sheol magick.” Jane began to
cry. “I should have
died,
Max, but someone saved me.” She looked deep into
my eyes with a knowing stare. “I don’t know why I was saved, or why
my father had to die, but I know what I saw. I know
who
I saw.”

She must know it was
me.
I tried to read her thoughts and find
my proof, but the wall put up by the ring was only strengthened by
her current emotion. I desperately wanted to tell her that it was
me. I felt the words well in my throat, but my mouth refused to
speak.

“
I
believe in angels, Max, just as I said. I believe that there is
more happening to me then I can ever understand, but I want to try.
When I dream, I dream of death, and I…” I saw her face twist. “I’ve
seen
you
there, and your brother. Until now I couldn’t understand why.
The people in my dreams are dead, but, then why were you there? Why
are you alive?” She paused, seeing the look on my face. “You
are
there, aren’t you?
Just like me. You
see
me.”

I opened my mouth, but she thwarted my words
a second time.

“
And now my sister is
hearing things, but I don’t see how. How can Emily be magick if she
never had an experience like mine?” She looked at me, her eyes so
innocent and young.

I knew so many of the answers she was
looking for, but where to start? “There are many forms of magick,
Jane. Like my grandfather said. Hereditary. It could be from a
parent.”

I saw her face twist even
deeper. “A
parent?
You mean, my mother?”

I felt every muscle in my body tighten. “No,
more likely your father.”

“
My
father?”
It was as though something had clicked, and her
body language changed.

“
Yes. He
probably kept it from you because it wasn’t safe. He likely
distanced himself from Emily to keep her from finding out, because
Emily would
know
.”

“
How do you know
this?”

I bit my lip. “It’s just a guess.” Why
couldn’t I just say it? “Your mother probably had no idea.” Which
in truth, she didn’t. Nowhere in her thoughts did John ever tell
Sarah about his own gift of clairvoyance. The same gift he passed
to Emily.

Jane was the one at a loss for words
now.

I pressed on. “Jane, have you ever
considered that maybe your father was murdered?” The word murder
was rough on my tongue.

She leaned forward and
pressed her palm against the dashboard, as though trying to slow
the car down—as though stuck in fast forward. “
I—
yes, I have.”

She’d had the notion since the day of his
death. “Why?” I pressed, trying to bring her memory to the surface,
trying to get her to admit that it was me she had seen saving
her.

Her mouth hung open, her face sickened. “On
the day my father died, my body lay beside him. I saw us both from
above, as though I’d already died, but then there where two more
people there—”

“
Who?” My jaw
tightened.

Her head was shaking. She
didn’t want to say it.
“Angels.”
The word sounded painful for her. “One of them
saved me, and one seemed to look upon our dead bodies with pride
and satisfaction.” She looked at me, her brown eyes deep and
revealing. “The type of satisfaction you would expect to see from a
murderer. It was never an accident at all, but no matter how hard I
tried to explain that, no one believed me.” Her eyes filled with
tears, the pain in Jane’s heart flooding into my own. “Why, though?
Why did my father have to die? Why didn’t the one that saved me
save him as well?”

“
Jane…” I pulled the car
off the road, the gravel of the shoulder flying into the wheel
wells as we skidded to a stop. I shut the car off, the silence of
the forest around us creeping in as the dust settled. “Magick is
supposed to be dangerous, Jane, but as you know, it isn’t. Nothing
about what you have and what you see is in any way dangerous. There
are two sides to it, just like anything else. And just like
anything with two sides, one side wants to destroy the other.” I
made two fists with my hands to signify the good and the bad. “Like
my grandfather explained, one side wants magick to remain a secret,
the other wants to use it to take over all things, and presume a
role of power.” I shook one fist, signifying it to be the bad side.
“Just like any war, it’s a give and take. There is a dark side,
Jane, along with a good, and if your father did have magick, it’s
likely it was the good kind.” I looked into her eyes, dropping my
hands into my lap. “He died because of this war.”

Her eyes fluttered forward. She unbuckled
and rubbed her neck, probably feeling agitated and confined. I
rolled the window down, hoping the fresh air would help her to
relax. I wanted to wrap her in my arms and ball her against my
chest where she would be safe forever. Since the day I first laid
eyes on her, it was all I wanted. I knew this was a lot for her to
take in, but it had to happen.

“
Your grandfather tells you
this?” Her voice was pitchy. I could tell she was still denying
what her heart knew: that I was one of the two beings there that
day. She refused to believe it, refused to remember.

I nodded. Thinking of her father John, and
remembering him from the Priory. “Jane, I haven’t been honest with
you. I don’t really know you, or rather, you don’t know me. I’m
afraid to scare you away. Afraid you’ll never speak to me again if
you know who I really am.”

I saw her hands grip the seat, readying
herself for what she knew would be a shocking revelation. I hadn’t
told her about the nature of my parent’s death, knowing that
mentioning the involvement of my brother in all of this would come
as a detriment to our relationship, especially when Greg would
always be there.

“
My parents didn’t just die
in a car accident, Jane; they were murdered.”

Her eyes shot to mine, her mouth agape.
“What?”

I bit my lip. “The story is complicated, so
try to follow if you can—and try to understand that I’m not a
danger to you.”

I felt her spine stiffen, and her eyes
searched mine. I knew she heard me, but was frozen by my previous
confession.

“
Jane, my parents had three
boys. My brother Greg and I came first. We were the twins. And then
our younger brother a few years later.” I didn’t yet want to reveal
that my younger brother was the man she assumed to be my
grandfather at this point. “My twin brother, Greg—who you’ve
met—was always jealous of me.”

Her lips moved. “I know
about Greg, but a
younger
brother? You didn’t mention a younger brother
before.”

I touched my hand to her lips, opening the
doorway to her thoughts. We both leaned into the connection,
wanting nothing but to weave together. “I’ll get to that,” was all
I could say. I brushed my fingers from her lips to her ear,
relishing the feel of her warm skin.

“
But…” she tried to
protest, but her voice faded. I felt her breath against my hand,
warm and moist. My jaw tightened, wanting so badly to kiss her, to
feel happiness with her. “But then where is your younger
brother?”

“
He’s
around.”

The fear on her face faded. She had first
assumed he’d died with my parents since I hadn’t mentioned him, but
she was relieved to hear he was alive.

“
Oh.” Jane looked confused,
her mind flashing with images of Denver. She figured he was there.
“So, who murdered your parents, and why? If they didn’t have
magick, like you said, then what was the reason?”

I compressed my thoughts and let it out.
“Greg murdered them.”

Jane gasped, her hand covering her mouth.
She slunk down in her seat. “That’s not true. It can’t be. Why
isn’t he in jail?”

I pressed on with the story, ignoring her
questions and letting it pour out like an open wound. “Like I said,
Greg was always jealous. He thought my parents loved me more than
they loved him. He hated them for that. As we grew older, he never
allowed himself to see that they loved us both the same, and his
denial and hatred grew until…” I felt my throat begin to choke up,
the thought of the day painful. I’d never told anyone about what
had happened. “Until the day Greg learned that my mother was also
having an affair, but not just that; the man she was seeing had
magick. Greg did not approve of the fact that my human mother was
cavorting with his type. In his rage, he set the library on fire
with us in it. He didn’t mean for our younger brother to be a part
of it, and in fact, I don’t believe he meant to kill my parents at
all. I think more than anything, he was trying to prove a point,
but as the flames blazed in his eyes, something inside him changed.
Greg locked us all inside that burning room, sending us all to our
death, except our younger brother, Erik.” I winced as I said his
name. “I was able to save him before the flames engulfed the
room—he lived.”

“
Erik? Named after your
grandfather?” Her voice grew clear. It would have been the logical
explanation.

I said nothing, and I fear she took it as a
yes.

“
But,
you
got out. You’re alive,” she added. “And Greg. So, you mean to
say, everyone but your parents
lived.”

I shook my head and her face wrinkled.
“Erik, the man you know as my grandfather, is not my grandfather at
all. He’s my younger brother.”

She blinked, the words
taking a moment to sink in.
“What?”
She gasped again. “That’s not possible.” She was
shaking her head. “Erik is…
old!”