The Wolf's Daughter (The Tala Chronicles 1) (7 page)

Good news!
The man I almost married twenty years ago has welcomed me to his house. I will
set out tomorrow. I have great hopes to finally find out so many things. My
daughter and the baby will be coming home in a few days. I must take care of
this before they return.

If there are
tear stains on this page, do not be surprised. Although my intention of
visiting Malcolm was fulfilled, the grief, sorrow, and fear it created make me
wonder if it were worth it.

His butler
answered the door and escorted me to the library. Malcolm rose from the wing chair,
and said it was wonderful to see me after so many years.

When I asked
him how he was, he told me he was fine, but he seemed a little frail to me. He
had aged, but he still had the handsome looks that had attracted me to him so
many years ago.

After I sat
down, he asked me what brought me to him after so long.

I explained
that when I held my grandchild, I realized I wanted answers about what had
happened with our relationship. I knew this had something to do with our
families, and I wanted to ensure that my grandchild would have a better life, a
life without confusion, fear, and guilt.

He sighed and
said he had heard there was a method of reversing what he called the strain, but
that it was very dangerous, and it could lead to the death of many people. I
pleaded with him to tell me, but he said he’d have to consider it further. He
told me we had powerful ancestors, and no matter what the situation seemed, we
should honor them. He added something that puzzled me. Malcolm said strains can
take a long time to disappear, regardless of civilization, which was no match
for power. He said my nephew had realized that, and that was why he disappeared
after the Bolton murder. Malcolm felt certain Gregory knew the method but did
not have the courage or confidence to try it. He also said rumors had
circulated that someone saw him running into the woods. A family cottage sat
deep in the forest, but a search party never found him.

He then told
me my eyes were changing, getting lighter and glowing. And he should never have
consented to my visiting him. He reached into his pocket and handed me an
amulet he said I should have. When his hand touched mine, he pulled me against
him. I screamed, and the butler came in. He restrained Malcolm, and I ran from
the house.

When I
reached our home, I ran in the door and locked it. I vowed to never leave
again. It seemed as though Malcolm and I were playing out an old theme. 

Later when I
looked carefully at the amulet, I saw that it had the same picture as the lock
on a small cage-like box I had seen as long as I could remember when I played
in the attic. A key hung on a black ribbon, but the box was empty. It seemed
the perfect place to put the diary, so it would be away from prying eyes. I hid
the key.

My shock and
devastation are crippling me. It seems that after I left Malcolm’s house, the
butler was killed. The murderer used a knife, and there were bite marks on his
body. Am I as much to blame for the death as Malcolm, if he is indeed to blame
at all? But of course, all the indications point to him. Why did I think
anything would be different between us? It was selfish of me to put anyone at
risk, but I just wanted to stop this very thing from ever happening again.

Too overcome
with emotion to continue reading, Tala closed the book. She stared off into
space and wasn’t able to sort her thoughts no matter how she tried to
concentrate. It was all a jumble—how Matt’s reaction to her was so much like
Malcolm’s to her grandmother, the amulet, and yes, even the murders. And what
she really didn’t want to admit: how much it seemed as if Matt were responsible
for Debbie’s death.

Maeve jumped on
her lap and started purring. She hugged her and sat quietly for a while. The
cat always sensed her anxiety, but even Maeve’s presence didn’t make up for the
fact that Tala would have to read more of the diary. And she feared what the
next passages would reveal.

***

When Matt went
back to his apartment, the first thing he did was take out his high school
yearbook. He flipped to the page with Tala’s picture on it. It was no use. She’d
always be the one. He picked up his cell phone and started dialing her number.
He stopped before the last digit, put the phone down, and held his head in his
hands. There had to be something he could do to change the situation. But no
matter how he tried, he couldn’t come up with an answer.

His phone rang.

“Hey, you’re not
going to believe this.” Jack sounded breathless. “They just picked up Vinnie,
the waiter at Dante’s, as a person of interest in the Blackthorn Road murder.
Seems they got an anonymous tip.”

“You’re kidding?
A flicker of hope charged through Matt.

***

Willis Sharp
surveyed his dusty antique shop, the third one in the family. A banker, who had
gotten his comeuppance, had foreclosed on it. Willis smiled slightly. However,
his grandfather had been able to open another, but the bank also foreclosed on that
one, and the guilty party got his punishment. The family sank into poverty, which
everyone had believed had led to the death of his grandmother and his two frail
sisters.

His own shop had
suffered serious financial trouble also. He had spent most of his savings to
buy the contents of the Martin house. Sharp intended to get what he paid for. He
didn’t care about the threadbare furniture. But like him, the Martins traced
their roots to an ancient family that could channel energy. He needed more
information...and an amulet. Because of the financial problems caused by Tala’s
ancestors, his family had to sell their amulets. They could never afford to
replace them.

As he’d aged,
the Violent strain had gotten weaker, even though that had not stopped him from
murdering. Without an amulet, he’d die soon. With one, the possibility of immortality
if he wasn’t killed by another Violent. His father had told him that although
the amulet would grant a certain amount of power to some Violents and Violent
Makers, Sharp’s family was one of the few that had Violents with the chance for
immortality.

He never thought
Tala would return to Wolfeboro, not after her father’s murder ten years ago.
She put a wrench in the works, but Sharp was confident it was only a temporary
snag. He could turn on the charm when he needed to. He had lots of experience
with flattering well-to-do matrons who didn’t have a clue as to what their
furniture was worth. Sharp had high hopes for his abilities with Tala, even
though things had started out on a bad note. He did have a special card to play
with her, which he’d save to the very end, either to get what he wanted or to
get revenge for not getting it.

Most
importantly, either he got an amulet and learned the immortality process or he
would die soon. His recent doctor’s appointment had confirmed his fears. Tala’s
mother had told him she had an amulet and her grandmother’s diary, which had
the information he sought. If he couldn’t get them legally...well, there were
other ways to get what he wanted.

***

Tala put the
diary aside for the moment to search in the attic again. She carefully
maneuvered the steps. Her foot was hurting a lot more than usual, and she had
to go slowly. When she reached the darkened room, she turned on the meager
light and hobbled over to a promising pile of boxes. She knelt next to them.

The first one
yielded nothing but ancient tax statements. When she opened the next one, children’s
artwork with her mother’s name on the sheets surprised her. She lifted the pile
and placed it on the floor. Tala couldn’t resist going through them. She sifted
through crude drawings, some of butterflies and flowers. In one, a clown stood
close to a circus tent. When she picked up the picture of a cat, what was under
it made her grab her chest—a drawing of some kind of beast with fangs. This
picture gave her a more terrifying feeling than the photos of the bodies. So her
mother
had
been aware of at least part of the story even when she was a
child.   

Tala sat down
next to the boxes and tried to think about what her next course of action
should be. The ringing of the cell phone interrupted her musings, and she
answered it. 

“Okay, Tala, hot
off Lucy’s press.” Vanessa’s words tumbled out. “Vinnie, the waiter at Dante’s,
was taken in for questioning about Debbie’s murder.”

“You’re kidding.
Why?”

“Anonymous tip.
Gotta go. I’m getting another call.”

Tala sighed. Of
course, it didn’t mean the crime had been solved. But it made her even more
determined to find out what Malcolm meant regarding the solution that might
backfire and result in many deaths.

The next step involved
studying the diary further. “Come on, Maeve. We have reading to do.”

She walked
downstairs to the kitchen. Tala picked up the diary from the table and went to
the living room. She’d just gotten comfortable on the couch with Maeve when the
doorbell’s ring startled her. She walked to the window. A man holding a bouquet
of ruby-red roses exited the  Garden Party florist shop’s van. Matt must have
sent them!

She flung the
door open with a smile, but Willis Sharp appeared from the side, and she frowned.
“Now what do you want?” she asked with venom.  

He took the
flowers from the man, who walked away. “I’m sorry we got off on the wrong foot.
Please accept these as an apology.”

Maeve bounded
over to the doorway. She arched her back and spat, fur puffy, her tail, a
bottlebrush.

Tala glared at
Sharp. “I’m not interested in your flowers. My only wish is that you never
bother me again.”

“I hope you’ll
change your mind.”

“Not a chance in
hell.” She slammed the door.

***

Sharp convinced
himself this represented just another temporary setback. But the clock was
ticking. Tala had held a book when she answered the door. He’d seen the letters
a
,
r
, and
y
. Probably the diary he’d paid a grand for, the
book that held the key to the secrets he lusted after. He also noticed the
amulet she wore. If Tala wouldn’t cooperate, he knew someone who could take
care of the situation without the long court wait.

Chapter Seven

Tony Miller,
sharpening his knife, sat on the couch in his parent’s house. He waited for his
brother, Vinnie, to come home from the police station. His mother had gone to
pick him up. She’d asked him to go, but he never wanted to go near the place
again. Gave him the creeps, he’d told her. He’d been there himself enough
times.

At twenty-two,
though, he’d learned to make money using his good looks or his brawn. Sharp
needed him at the antique shop, both to help him with moving furniture, and as
eye candy for the men and women who shopped there. His daily stint at the gym had
paid off, and he went from a kid with a pizza belly to a god in blue jeans.

When Sharp asked
him about a different job he wanted him to do, Tony immediately had his doubts,
though. He knew what went on in the basement. Even helped him get rid of
evidence...including bodies. Accessory to a crime was bad enough. Didn’t want a
murder charge hanging over him. However, Sharp had convinced him, more with
money than words, that it would be worth his while. 

Tony wanted to
think he had put all that behind him, but hey, may as well get it while the
getting was good. Besides, the spotlight shined on his brother right now, so if
anyone would be under suspicion, Vinnie would be. The hell with that
family-is-everything crap his parents had drummed into him.  

He remembered
that mousy little geek, Tala. She’d given him the hardest time when she
babysat. That girl just couldn’t take a joke—like the time he’d put a dead
mouse in her sandwich. He remembered the beatings he’d gotten from his father
because of her. So now, it was payback. And yeah, it
was
personal and
not just business. One thing Tony knew for sure—he wouldn’t lose any sleep over
it.

The family’s clunker
of a van drove up, and he parted a window curtain. Vinnie got out, disheveled,
a bruise on his cheek. Tony would keep the deal between Sharp and him a secret.

***

She hoped she’d
never see Sharp again. Tala locked the door, twisting the deadbolt with more
force than necessary.

Maeve meowed, her
fur smooth and shiny again.

“He’s a creep,
isn’t he, Maeve?”

The cat rubbed against
her leg. Tala picked her up, balancing with the diary under her arm, and walked
to the couch. They cuddled while Tala continued reading. 

I feel I have
no other option but to try to find Gregory myself. The weather should hold out
for a few days, and I can wear warm clothing and take food. Although rumors abound
concerning wolves, I won’t let that stop me. In any event, I couldn’t forgive
myself if I didn’t act on what I learned from Malcolm. I owe this to my
precious granddaughter. I want Tala to know how much I love her. I tremble at
the thought of how her mother might treat her.

Tala stopped
reading and looked off into the distance, trying to gather memories of her
grandmother. Kind eyes, white hair, a soft laugh, and a strong hug. Grateful
for the memories, she smiled. Maybe her grandmother really did appear to her in
the kitchen to warn her, a comforting thought despite the misgivings it
generated. She continued reading.

This trip may
be foolhardy, but if it is the last thing I attempt, I want to know I’ve done
everything in my power to stop the horror from continuing.