Nancy K. Duplechain - Dark Trilogy 03 - Dark Legacy (15 page)

“No, really.
You’re unselfish and brave and always do what’s right. I’m … I’m a coward who
ran away to California because I couldn’t face life after Dad died. Losing him
and Mom were too much for me. I let it be too much, so I ran.”

“I don’t blame
you for that. No one did. David and I were glad you left.”

“Glad?”

“Yeah. You were
young and needed to find yourself and experience life. That’s what you’re
supposed to do when you’re young.”

“But Clothilde—”

“She was hurt
and worried, but David and Michelle talked to her and got her to understand.
But what
I
don’t understand is why you keep pulling away from us again.
I mean it looks like you and Carrie have made up, and that’s great, but she,
like the rest of us, have been very worried about you. You hardly see Lyla or
Miss Clo … or me. Why are you still so set on going through life alone?”

“That’s not what
I’m trying to do.”

He threw his hands
up in frustration. “Then what?”

I crossed my
arms and stared out the window, watching more people dodge the rain. “You’re
all going to get hurt. My life is harder now, more dangerous.”

“Then I’ll
protect you.”

I looked at him.
“You can’t! Don’t you understand?
You
can’t protect me. Not against all
the crap out there that I have to deal with.”

“Then don’t deal
with it.”

Now I threw my
hands up. “Yeah, that sounds good. ‘Hey, Leigh, you’re been given this special
ability to fight the Dark Side.’ ‘Thanks, but that’s okay. I’m just going to go
work at the mall.’”

 He glared at me
in the corners of his eyes.

The DJ came on
the radio. “Willie Nelson, yes indeed. ‘Red Headed Stranger.’ Talk about bring
back some memories. Now this next song is a dedication. It comes to us from an
employee at the Lafayette Hilton. She says this is going out to the two
knuckleheads in the truck in the parking lot, who are arguing and acting the
donkey, when they should be steaming up the windows!” He laughed. “All right,
for those two knuckleheads, here’s Travis Tritt with ‘Anymore.’”

Our mouths hung
open. We looked toward the hotel lobby. Carrie stood at the window with her
cell phone in her hand. I could barely make out her expression, but she gave me
that quit-being-a-dumb-bitch look again.

“Seriously?” I
murmured.

I looked over at
Lucas. He stared at the steering wheel, his hands in his lap. It looked like
the song was getting to him.

After a few
seconds of listening to the unrequited love song, he said, “I’m giving up,
Leigh. You know how I feel.”

And that was
all. We drove out of the parking lot, headed for the hospital. As the song
played, it started to get to me, too.

Damnit, Carrie
.

***

When I went into
Clothilde’s room in ICU, I saw a bouquet of white daisies in a vase next to her
bed, and I suddenly hated myself for forgetting to bring flowers. The card said
they were from Lucas. He had come earlier when Cee Cee was here. I noticed that
she left a gris gris bag on the night stand. It smelled like cinnamon, cedar,
and rosemary.

Clothilde still
had the breathing apparatus taped to her mouth. Now she had mittens on her
hands, and her wrists were tied to the bed rails. I assumed they did that
because she kept trying to remove the tube. It was pitiful to see her like
that, and I felt my eyes water.

I sat near her
and rubbed her arm. Her eyes opened, looked around the ceiling like she was
lost for a second, and then found me. If looks could kill …

I gestured
toward her tied hands. “It’s for your own good,” I said.

Her eyes turned
away from me.

“It’s only
temporary.” 

She wouldn’t
look at me. I noticed how dry and cracked her lips were. I took a little jar of
petroleum jelly from the night stand near the bed and dabbed some on her lips.
She rejected it at first, but she relaxed, liking it.

“There,” I said.
“That’s much better, huh? I hate dry lips, too.” I put the cap back on and
returned the jar to the night stand. “Lyla’s in her first therapy session right
now.”

Her eyes found
mine again, though this time they were curious and not angry.

“I really hope
it helps. We should have had her in therapy since last year. After David and
Michelle … Anyway, I think it’ll help her.”

She looked at me
as if she were trying to transmit a thought. Her eyebrows arched like she had
just asked a question.

I shook my head.
“Sorry, I don’t know what you’re trying to say.”

She did it
again, but her look was more intense.

“Is it about
Lyla?”

She closed her
eyes and shook her head.

“Me?”

Her eyes opened
again, and the intense look and the questioning eyebrows returned.

“Um … oh, about
going with Miles?”

She nodded.

“I didn’t want
to tell you this, but Lyla was attacked the other night. She’s fine right now,
but it scares the hell out of me to leave. I don’t think I should.”

There was a
sense of urgency in her eyes.

“I know you want
me to, but it’s too dangerous to just leave her with Cee Cee. And you’re going
to be so weak when you get out.”

She shook her
head, tried to lift her arms, and then restlessly moved her legs under the
blanket.

“Fine! I’ll go,
but I’m waiting until you’re better,” I insisted. “You didn’t tell me
when
I had to go.”

As if on cue,
Miles entered the room, smiling, holding a bouquet of yellow roses in one hand
and his black case in the other. Again, I felt guilty for showing up empty
handed. He put the bouquet next to Lucas’ white daisies and then kissed
Clothilde on the forehead. “Hello, my dear lady,” he murmured. As he bent down,
the harsh fluorescent light revealed he had considerably more silver in his
dark hair than he did earlier this year. For a second I caught myself wondering
if my hair would turn out silver like his or white like Clothilde’s.

She seemed
content with him being there.

He nodded at me
and smiled. “Hello, Leigh.”

“Hey.” I felt
awkward, remembering how I spoke to him the last time I saw him. “Um, I’m kind
of glad you’re here. I decided to go with you. To Paris.”

He didn’t seem
at all surprised and maintained a pleasant disposition. “Splendid. We can leave
tomorrow.”

“Wait. No. Not
tomorrow. Are you kidding? She just had major surgery. It’ll probably take
weeks for her to heal.”

A smile worked
the corners of his mouth. “Well, perhaps we can speed that up a little.” He set
his case on the table in front of the bed and, opening it, took out a vial of
holy water. He sprinkled some on Clothilde’s forehead and then put a few drops
in his hands which he then placed over her lungs and heart. Clothilde calmly
closed her eyes.

“Are you
serious?” I said. “She won’t even let me heal a bruise on my niece’s cheek
because she hates that I’m a dark paladin, but she’s letting you—”

“Shhh,” he said
gently with his eyes closed in concentration.

I let him work,
watching him pray and watching her chest rise and fall steadily. When he was
done he said, “There. That should speed up the healing time enough so as we
don’t arouse suspicion. Cee Cee will be staying with her until she’s better.”

Clothilde
thanked him with her eyes and then looked at me. All the thankfulness had left,
and she had that same look of urgency and the arched eyebrows.

“Okay! You win.
I’ll go tomorrow.”

Carrie
volunteered to drive me to the Lafayette airport. She picked me up at Clothilde’s
house in her green Prius. Before we left, Lucas stopped by to drop off
Jonathan. Clothilde usually sat for him on weekends when Lucas was working a
case. Cee Cee said she’d be glad to take care of him. I hugged Lyla too hard
and kissed her head and then hugged Jonathan, too, before they ran into the
house to play. Then it was Cee Cee’s turn. She nearly crushed me, but it was
welcomed and soothing.

“Don’t worry
about a thing, my baby! We gonna be all right. Just clear your head and relax.
I put something in your bag to help you.” She winked at me, and I smiled
politely, secretly cringing at what she could have possibly put in my bag. I
just hoped it didn’t smell bad. She went in the house and closed the door.

Carrie got in
her car and pretended not to listen to me arguing with Lucas, which started
when she was out of earshot and Lucas gave me a look that said
I can’t
believe you’re really leaving
.

“It’s what Clo
wants,” I told him. “I didn’t want to go, but she made me promise.”

“Hell, Leigh!
She doesn’t know what she wants!”

“I’m pretty sure
she does.”

He looked like
he wanted to hit something. He just shook his head. “You are one stubborn
heifer, you know that?”

I was too
stunned to say anything, so I just watched him walk away, get in his truck and
peel out of the driveway.

When I got in Carrie’s
car, I slammed the door.

“Hey, take it
easy,” she said, rubbing the dashboard. “Sir Froggert is very sensitive. He
doesn’t like being slammed.”

“Sorry, but I’m
just so pissed right now.”

“Yeah, I heard
that. ‘Heifer.’” She laughed.

“It’s not
funny!”

“Calm down,
girly. He’s just letting off some steam. Everything is going to be fine. Miss
Cee Cee is gonna see about Miss Clo. I’ll spend the night tonight,
which
by the way I’m thrilled because Lyla and I are going to have so much fun. We’re
going to try on clothes, makeup and—”

“Care, you’re
not going to make her look like a hooker, are you? I mean, she’s only eleven.”

“C’mon! You know
me better than that.”

“Right. You’ll
probably just make her look like a drag queen.”

“Now that might
happen, actually.”

By the time she
dropped me off at the airport, I was in a good mood again. She gave me a huge
bear hug before she left. Miles had prepaid my ticket. I took a small plane to
New Orleans and then expected to transfer to a larger carrier. When I got off
the plane, there was a man in a black pilot uniform holding a sign with my name
on it. He led me outside to one of those little golf carts and drove around to
a row of planes waiting for takeoff. At the end of the row was a private jet
with the Knighten Oil logo.

The pilot helped
me into the jet where I saw a large cabin with plenty of head space, big,
super-comfortable seats and plush carpeting.

“Oh, Carrie,” I
whispered to myself, “I wish you were here right now.” I took out my phone and
snapped a picture and sent it to her.

Miles spotted me
from the front of the cabin and motioned me over to him. He was standing with a
drink in his hand.

“Noah will be
here soon, and the flight crew should have your bags here in a few minutes.”

“Thanks.”

“Just get
comfortable in the meantime. Any seat is fine.”

“Hey, I … um, I
wanted to apologize to you. About what I said the other day. Thank you for
paying off my student loans. I really appreciate it.’

He smiled
gently. “You’re welcome.”

“There’s
something I wanted to talk to you about. I notice that when I heal someone now,
I don’t get tired or feel drained anymore.”

He raised his
eyebrows. “Really?” He grinned. “Remarkable. When did you start noticing this?”

“When I healed
my friend the other day.”

He thought about
this for a minute. “Was your friend the first person you healed since you
turned?”

I nodded.
“Yeah.”

“Amazing,” he
marveled. “It seems your family is full of surprises.”

I scrunched my
brows.

“Your niece can
self heal, something the rest of us cannot do. And you … you know how you were
born both light and dark?”

“Yeah.”

“You know that
when paladins walk the line, they are given an extra or extended ability. Well,
since you were partially dark to start with, when you became a line walker, it
seems you were given an extra ability. Your energy isn’t depleted when you
heal. I’ve only heard about this happening a few times with paladins who are
born light and dark. You’re quite powerful.”

“Oh. Um … cool.
I guess.”

“Don’t underestimate
yourself, Leigh.”

“So … is it just
going to be the three of us? Is Ruby coming?”

“Cee Cee forbade
her from coming. She doesn’t want her tempted by the dark side again like she
was with Mulogo. All these dreams we’ve been having show signs of something
brewing. It was best Ruby take it easy for now.”

Noah entered,
grinning. “How awesome is this?”

“Pretty
awesome,” I said, taking a seat.

He stored his
luggage bag in an overhead bin, tossed his duffle bag on the floor by the seats
and parked himself next to me. “I’ve always wanted to fly in this thing.” He
nudged me with his elbow. “Glad you’re here.”

I smiled. “Yeah,
well …” I trailed off and settled in for a long flight.

Shortly before
takeoff, my phone vibrated. I had a text from Carrie:
I hate you
.

I laughed, and
Noah peeked at my phone.

“Having a spat
with your friend?” he said.

“No, she’s just
kidding. By the way, if you’re interested, she’s available.”

He shrugged.
“She’s cute, but I’m not really looking.”

“Oh? Then why’d
you kissed me last winter?”

He fake smiled
and took out his iPod and headphones from his duffle bag. I faintly heard some
old Pearl Jam song. I grinned with smug satisfaction.  

***

Charmagne’s
house was a glorious, two-story c
hâteau
on a fifteen acre estate
out
in the country, about twenty miles from Paris. It was isolated with no other
homes around for at least seven miles in either direction and accessible via a
small bridge over a creek that ran through the forest. Once over the bridge, a
long, winding path led to her home.

The house did
not look like a grand palace, but it was beautiful nonetheless, with its
French-Country appeal and stone walls with a matching gray stone horseshoe
driveway and five-car garage which contained two cars: a silver Bentley
Continental and a black Rolls Royce Phantom, both late models. A beautiful
tiered fountain with stone fish sat in the middle of the walkway leading up to
the huge, double doors of dark wood adorned with swans etched in glass. Behind
the glass, warm lights glowed, promising more beauty on the other side of the
magnificent portal.

Miles rang the
bell, and, a few moments later, a lovely woman with short and wavy dark hair
and big eyes the color of cognac, opened the door to reveal a foyer that could
put Miles’ to shame. It was lit with an extravagant chandelier with cascading
crystals that trapped and refracted every bit of light.

Miles greeted
her warmly. “Charmagne!”

“Hello, Miles,”
she said, hugging him. “Come, come in. Noah! How are you, my boy?” A strong
French accent poured from her lips.

It was Noah’s
turn to get a hug as he said, “It’s good to see you again.”

She released him
and then studied me for moment. “Miles, she is quite lovely. Tall, excellent
posture, and a beautiful smile.”

I felt myself
blush a little.

She extended her
hand. “I am Charmagne, and you are Leigh, no?”

“Yes, nice to
meet you,” I said.

“Come in,
everyone! I have dinner prepared! You can leave your bags here for now. You
must all be so hungry. Follow me.”

From what I
could see of the house so far, it seemed a throwback to 1920’s Paris bourgeoisie,
or as Carrie would say, “Girl, this house so bourgie!” The dining room was
wallpapered in a pink-and-gold color scheme with a mural on the long wall
depicting a vineyard from decades ago. There was another chandelier, but this
one more modest than the one in the foyer. When no one was looking, I took out
my phone, snapped a picture of the dining room and sent it to Carrie with the
caption:
High society. Don’t you wish you were here?
          

“Danielle!” Charmagne
called. “Miles, you will not believe how much she’s grown.”

He smiled. “It’s
only been a year.”

“Yes,” she said,
“but she’s shot up a bit. And out.”

Miles blushed
slightly.

“I imagine I’ll
be fighting off the young men any day now,” she said.

Miles politely
laughed, but I could tell that he felt awkward. I felt that way, too. Hearing
parent-daughter talk would most likely be awkward with us for a good while.

“Has her ability
presented itself yet?” said Miles.

“Not yet,” said
Charmagne. “And I prefer it that way, at least for now. She still gets to be a
child.”

A young girl
with long, flowing brown hair and brown eyes and freckles entered the foyer.
Beside her was a ruggedly-handsome man in his thirties with a shaved head. He
was built like a light heavyweight boxer and had intelligent, violet eyes.

When he saw the
man, Noah bristled and clinched his jaw. The man took notice of Noah, and it
seemed that he also bristled.

Danielle
grinned, ran up to Miles and Noah and hugged them. Noah put on a happy face.
“Hi, kiddo!” he said, lifting her off the ground before gently setting her
back. The man watched this with guarded eyes.

“You were
right!” said Miles. “I can’t believe how much she’s grown in a year.”

“I haven’t grown
that
much,” said Danielle.

“You
have
,”
said Miles. “You’re only fourteen. By the time you’re seventeen, I’ll bet
you’ll be taller than I am.”

Danielle
giggled.

“Everyone, I’d
like you to meet Ridge,” said Charmagne, gesturing toward the man, who nodded
politely. “Ridge is from the United Kingdom. I’m sorry, where did you say you
were from, Ridge? Scotland or Ireland?”

“Scotland.
Aberdeen.”

“Yes, that’s it.
Right on the coast of the North Sea. He will be staying with us for a while. I
hope that’s okay with you, Miles?”

“Of course,” he
replied, but I noticed the confused look on his face.

“Ridge is
Danielle’s guardian. He’s also a nephil.”

Noah didn’t seem
surprised, and I supposed he could smell what Ridge was and vice versa. Miles
and I were both shocked, however.

“Charmagne—”
started Miles.

“He’s perfectly
all right,” she said, smiling. I trust him with Danielle’s life.” When she
still noticed the apprehensive looks on our faces, she further explained: “He
came to me. He said he was being called to protect her, that he heard the voice
of God. I believe him, Miles.”

Ridge stared at
the floor, his jaw locked. Miles nodded. “All right, then.”

We ate dinner
together in the dining room. Charmagne and Miles sat at either end of the table
while I sat with Noah on one side, and Danielle and Ridge on the other. She
barely touched her food, and Ridge never volunteered conversation, only
answered when spoken to, and even those were short, to-the-point answers. He
kept his eyes on his plate, only lifting his gaze a few times to look at Noah,
who mostly stared at him during dinner.

A few times
Miles and Charmagne spoke French to each other, thinking that I couldn’t
understand them, but my French was better since I had been helping Lyla with
her homework over the last year. I could understand very well what they were
saying.

Charmagne told
Miles: “She’s beautiful, very much like her mother. And I see she has
Clothilde’s Auburn hair.”

Miles thanked
him and said, smiling, “And stubborn, too.”

She laughed and
said, “And is she powerful, Miles? Did she turn out like we thought she would?”

Miles hesitated
and then said, “I believe so. With a little more training, she will be very
powerful.”

I pretended not
to understand what they discussed, and when Charmagne said, “Leigh.
Parlez-vous français?” I just smiled and
shrugged my shoulders, trying to look embarrassed. She waved her hand away and
said, “No matter. We speak good English in this house. Forgive us if we were
being impolite.”