Kissed by Eternity (13 page)

"Michigan?"

I'd forgotten that whole Michigan thing had come up while he'd been recovering in dragon territory. "You've kind of missed a lot," I said.

He stared at me for a moment, face expressionless. "Yeah. I get that." His voice was very quiet. Very grim.

I strode over to sit by him. I ran my fingers through the silky blond hair. I'd missed him so much, my heart ached with it. "I didn't mean it like that. Not having you here was one of the hardest things ever. It was worse than dying." And I should know, having truly died. "I've just… I'm so used to always having you here. You were always there for me, always. And suddenly you were gone. Emotionally, I felt lost. So much happened while you were away, and I had to keep going. I didn't have a choice."

Inigo wrapped his arms around me, pulling me hard against him. He was so warm, and I could hear the throb of his heart against my ear. This. I'd missed this.

"I'm sorry," he said. "So sorry."

"It wasn't all your fault."

"Part of it, no," he agreed, "but I chose to stay away when I could've been with you. You were right about that. And for that I am sorry."

"I get it. You had things to work through. I've been there. I know exactly what you're going through. And I didn't have anybody except Kabita, and while we're best friends now, back then she wasn't even sure she was going to let me live. So yeah, I get it. And I wish, I wish so much you would've let me help you. Let me go through it with you. Because I could've handled it. But I don't blame you because I understand that sometimes, some things you just have to go through on your own."

His arms tightened around me, and he kissed my forehead. "I love you, Morgan Bailey," he said. "More than you can ever possibly know."

I leaned back and stared up into his beautiful blue eyes. "I don't know about that. But I love you too."

He kissed me then, and I felt it all the way to my toes. We ended up being a lot later than I planned to get to my mother's.

# # #

My mother practically rolled out the red carpet the minute she saw Inigo. While she'd never been a fan of Jack's, Inigo was one of her favorite people ever. I'm pretty sure she liked him more that she liked me, her own daughter.

"Oh, you sweet boy," she exclaimed drawing him into the house. "I haven't seen you in ages. How have you been?" She was perfectly coiffed, as usual, her hair carefully pinned in a French twist. Her pearls were impeccably straight, and her black slacks immaculately pressed. She looked like she was trying out for some kind of '50s housewife movie role, except they would have never worn pants.

"Good to see you, Mrs. B," Inigo said, kissing her on the cheek. I noticed he avoided the question of how he'd been. Good thing. I could just imagine my mother's reaction if he told her he'd almost died. Or did die. Or whatever happened. I was still a little fuzzy on the details, and the dragons weren't sharing. Anyway, most things were better if my mother didn't know, especially when it came to the paranormal.

"Come right into the kitchen," she said hurrying us along. "I just finished baking snicker doodles."

That explained the gorgeous scent of vanilla and cinnamon that wafted out of the kitchen. Although not my favorite cookie, they were certainly up there in the get-in-my-tummy-now department. It also hadn't gone unnoticed that my mother hadn't even bothered to greet me.

"Hello to you too, mother," I mumbled.

"Morgan, muttering is in no way ladylike." She didn't even turn to look at me. I swear the woman had bionic ears. I didn't bother pointing out that no one in their right mind considered me a lady unless they wanted to lose a body part.

In the kitchen, Mother sat us down with a plate of cookies and glasses of milk like we were ten years old. Inigo, grinning like a lunatic, crammed an entire cookie in his mouth. Such behavior would've gotten me a lecture fifteen minutes long, but Mother smiled and patted Inigo on the head like he was the cutest thing she'd ever seen while he got crumbs all over her pristine table. I rolled my eyes.

"That's enough from you, young lady."

How did she do that? She wasn't looking at me.

"Mom," I said, "we're not here for just a visit."

"I didn't think you were," she said tartly. "You never visit unless you need something."

"That's not true," I said although I had to admit I couldn't remember the last time I'd visited her when I didn't need something. Oh yeah, my birthday. When was that? Six months ago? Seven?

"What is it you need this time?" She sat down at the table and folded her hands primly. She didn't bother taking a cookie, nor did she pour a drink for herself.

"Okay," I said, diving right in, "have you ever heard of Michigan?"

She looked at me like I'd grown a second head. "Of course I've heard of Michigan. Who hasn't? Didn't you learn about these things in school? Why did I pay so much for your education?"

Refraining from rolling my eyes again, I continued, "No, I mean did you ever hear Dad talk about Michigan? Or maybe Alister?"

Her expression grew tight. My mother really didn't like talking about my father or Alister Jones. She'd spent most of my life telling me my father left us when the truth was he died. She'd refused to tell me anything about him, allowing me to believe he was some sort of douchebag who'd deserted his family. My mother was truly the queen of avoidance.

"I don't see why this is important," she said stiffly. Her hand drifted up to twist her pearls, a sure sign she was distressed.

"Trust me, Mom, it is. Did Dad ever mention Michigan? Or anything related to Michigan? A lake, maybe."

She stared at the clock on the wall so long I thought she wasn't going to answer. "Not that I recall," she finally said. I honestly wasn't sure if she was telling the truth or not. My mother had a way of lying to herself so well even she believed it.

"And Alister Jones? Did he ever mention anything about it?"

"Why would I know anything about what Alister Jones knew or didn't know about Michigan?"

"Mom, don't be like that…."

"Be like what?" she snapped. "I really don't see why these questions are important. This is all in the past. I've had nothing to do with that man in years."

"Trust me, Mom, it's important. Please. Did Alister ever mention Michigan?"

She actually seemed to give it some thought. "There was this one time…."

Inigo and I leaned forward eagerly. "Yes?" Inigo prompted her.

She gave Inigo a smile a little bit warmer than the one she'd given me. "It was shortly before your father… left." Clearly she still couldn't admit my father hadn't had a choice. I reined in my anger and nodded. She continued. "I overheard them talking about a lakeshore in Michigan. I assumed they wanted to go fishing or something. Although it was strange because your father wasn't one for fishing. The minute I entered the room, they stopped talking about it and started behaving very strangely."

"What you mean by strangely?" I asked.

She sighed. "I don't know. Your father rarely kept secrets from me in those days, but he didn't seem to want me to know about their discussion. I suppose that's why it stuck in my mind. That, and the fact it was Michigan. We didn't know anyone in Michigan."

"Did they say anything more specific?" Inigo asked.

"Not that I recall." Her tone was firm. I knew we'd get nothing more out of her.

But Inigo was not about to give up. "Do you happen to have any books or papers that belonged to Alexander Morgan?" he asked.

"Actually I do," she said.

I stared at her with my mouth open. I couldn't believe my ears. My whole life I'd been asking about things that belonged to my father, and she'd always denied me, claiming everything was destroyed. Now she was saying she had some of his things?

I started to open my mouth when Inigo interrupted me with a look. Clearly he knew me far too well. "Can we see them?" he asked.

She gave him a long look. "This way."

She led us into the small den just off the kitchen and pushed open a narrow door that led into a storage closet. At the back was a rickety old bookshelf I remembered well from my childhood. It was crammed with old copies of National Geographic, dusty tomes of folklore, and a few cheap paperbacks. Although I'd loved pouring over the books as a child, my mother had often shooed me away when she saw me going through the shelves. Eventually she started locking the closet so I couldn't get in. After a while, I forgot about it, new interests taking me elsewhere.

"Everything on that bookcase belonged to Alex," Mom said softly but with little emotion. "If there was anything, it would be there."

"You mind if we go through it?" Inigo asked gently.

She shrugged. There was tightness around her eyes that hadn't been there before. "Suit yourself," she said. And then she turned and walked away.

Chapter 17

I heaved a sigh. I got it. I did. My mother had experienced so much pain, thanks to my father and Alister, it was a wonder she could have any normal life at all. I just hated that I was the one left dealing with this frigid woman who refused to face the truth.

I shook off the maudlin thoughts and turned my attention to the bookshelf. My father's books. How had I never known? I skimmed my fingers along the dusty spines. The books that had always fascinated me were suddenly fraught with meaning.

"You take that end," Inigo said, nodding at the left side of the bookshelf. "And I'll take this end. What are we looking for?"

"Any books pertaining to Michigan," I said. "Plus anything that looks like an important document, personal letter, anything that might give us a clue as to what Alister is up to, where he's gone, or why Michigan is so important."

Inigo nodded and we began digging through the books. Dust
poof
ed up in small clouds, making me sneeze. Inigo rubbed his nose as if the dust tickled him too.

"Don't you dare sneeze in here," I said. "I do not want these books going up in flames."

He laughed. "You know very well I don't breathe fire in human form."

I grinned. It felt so good to have him at my side again, fighting the bad guys and what not. I'd missed that so much. "Yeah, I know. I just don't want you to forget."

He leaned over, grabbed the back of the head, and pressed a kiss to my mouth. It was hard and fast and hot as hell. Heat pooled low in my belly and all I could think about was losing myself in him.

"Don't distract me," I said a little breathlessly as I pulled away. "I need to focus."

Inigo winked and went back to pawing through the rows of books.

About a half an hour later, I was covered in dust and grime and was no closer to learning the truth. My gritty eyes burned and my sinuses felt like they had cotton stuffed up in them. I let out about the sixth sneeze. I was itchy everywhere thanks to the dust.

I reached for particularly thick book on human anatomy. Seemed an odd sort of tome for my father to have. It wasn't like he'd been a doctor or anything. I flipped through the pages not expecting to find anything. An envelope fell out. It was thick and had several pages inside, yellowed with age. I pulled them out and unfolded them carefully.

"What's that you've got there?" Inigo asked, leaning closer.

"I'm not sure."

"It looks like a deed." He squinted at the tiny writing on the page.

"You mean like to a house or something?" I asked, handing it to him. "Maybe it's my mom's."

He nodded. "Except this isn't to her house. It looks like it involves a plot of land, and it's in your father's name."

I'd never heard of my father owning any land. Certainly nothing that would've passed to my mother, as she wasn't technically his next of kin. "Probably something Trevor and his mom inherited when he died," I said.

"I don't think so," Inigo said. "It's in your name, too."

"What?" I said, grabbing the documents from his hand. "How is that possible? I wasn't even born when my father died."

"And yet, here it is. Your name. Maybe your parents had picked out a name before you were born."

I doubted that, but it was possible. "What kind of property?"

"It looks like undeveloped land."

"Where?" I skimmed the document but so much legal jargon put my mind in a tumble, and everything kind of melted together. I realized I was shaking.

He gently took it back from me and scanned the pages. "It looks like…" He grinned. "It's near Lake Superior. Michigan."

# # #

I had more than a sneaking suspicion that the deed was closely related to whatever was going on with Alister. My father and Alister had once been best friends. It wasn't out of the realm of possibility that Alister would know the location of the property my father had purchased in Michigan. But why? Why would my father buy some random piece of land in a state he had no connection to whatsoever? And then put my name on the deed? What was it about this place that he and Alister were so obsessed over? Could it be that he, too, knew about the last colony of Atlantis? And could the property have something to do with that?

So many questions and absolutely no answers. My mother claimed to know nothing of the property, either, nor that the deed was on the bookshelf. She seemed confused about my name being on the deed, insisting they had never decided on a name for me. I had to take her word for it. But that left me with even more questions. Maybe Tommy would know something. But then why wouldn't Tommy have told me? Or Trevor?

With both Tommy and Trevor busy with the war, and the full moon rapidly approaching, I decided the best thing to do was focus on our next task: scanning the portals. I needed more information. If there was one man who would know more about this portal business, it was Eddie Mulligan.

The next day I left Inigo snoring in bed and headed down to Majicks and Potions, Eddie's New Age shop over on Hawthorne Street. As I entered the shop, the bell above the door jangled, and I almost choked on a cloud of incense.

Eddie beamed at me from behind the register. He was perched on a high stool, glasses propped on the end of his nose, book in hand. The cover was of a very scantily clad woman armed with what looked like a whip. I nearly blushed.