No Love for the Wicked (26 page)

“Sorry.” My face flushed, and I poured a quick drink. When I looked back up, his expression had grown sober. “What?”

“Jon and I need to leave for Kiev to try and nail down Boyko and Fahran, but we should be back by Sunday. You have any plans that night? With Thirteen or anyone?”

“Why would I have plans with Thirteen?”

His sad grin actually reminded me of Thirteen. “Sunday’s Christmas Eve, Mag. I wasn’t sure if you were doing anything with Thirteen or not.”

Christmas?
I’d never even thought of it. “He hasn’t mentioned anything.”

“Good. I was thinking when I get in, that night we could go downtown. See the monument lights, grab some hot chocolate. Then you could come back to my place. I don’t have a tree or anything, but we could probably pick one up. A small one or something.”

I gaped at him, my mind frozen.
A Christmas tree? Downtown to see the lights?

He leaned forward and brushed the hair from my face. “I never had a Christmas until Jon’s family invited me to theirs. This being Jon and Heather’s first in their new house, I figured it was time they started their own holiday traditions. And maybe I could start some of my own. Our own.”

His fingers brushed over my cheek again. “Don’t cry, Mag.” But I couldn’t help it. He wanted Christmas with me. A tree, traditions. Together. It was so much more than a supernatural connection. It was all the things I’d never thought to hope for.

“So is that a yes?”

I nodded so hard I thought I’d pull something in my neck. And when he smiled and opened his arms, I went to him and cried some more while he held me. I probably looked like an idiot, but the way he ran his hands down my back and kissed my hair, I didn’t feel stupid at all.

By the time the sun set behind the frosty trees, it was time for him to go meet Jon for the red-eye to London. I walked him to the door.

“I can go get a tree tomorrow. Keep it here, and then when you get back we can move it to your place.”

“Or we can just do Christmas here if you want.”

“No, I’ve never been to your house. I want to do it there.”

He tapped a finger on my chin. “Then that’s what we’ll do.” I practically bounced as we walked to his car. “And I’ll get presents,” I said. “For everybody. On Christmas we can go around
and give presents to people like Thirteen and Jon and Heather and Cordele.”

He chuckled. “I think that sounds just about perfect.” He took my face in his hands, turned serious again. “I’ll be back in a few days. Be careful. Don’t go on any other team’s missions.”

I rolled my eyes.

“Take care of what’s mine, Mag.”

I gripped his wrists. Everything inside me fluttered. The power between us swelled so that the falling snow around us melted before it touched our skin. “And you take care of what’s mine.”

He kissed me, and our shimmer grew to a steady glow. I watched him climb into his car. As he drove down the icy path, disappearing behind the tree line, I held tight to the warmth of him inside me.

The giant trees had been brought in from the forests of Washington and stretched to the ceiling of the main ballroom. One at each end of the long room, they were expertly decorated with white-and-silver lights and glistening ornaments. Garlands had been strung along the balconies; wreaths hung in each of the enormous windows, showcasing the perfect view of the snow-covered landscape.

I lifted a hand to touch the chilled window but pulled back quickly when I saw how bloody my fingers still were. Even at five years old, I knew the rules well. No blood in the house, especially when there were guests there.

Through the glass, I saw the wide double doors that led into the room open as people made their way inside. Their smiles were so wide, their eyes so bright. Looking into their minds, I saw how much they envied my family and the beauty we lived with. They
saw the decorated trees and just knew that in the morning, presents would fill the space beneath them, overflowing with so much more than any of them could ever provide their own children. But there was something more in their thoughts as well. There was an excitement and joy that I didn’t understand. A hope. Their laughter was louder than it had been at any of Father’s other parties. The sound of it warmed me in an unfamiliar way.

Uncle Max entered the room, and instantly I flinched away. No one was allowed to see me. Ever. If Uncle Max or Father found me staring in from outside, I’d have to go back to the barn. The deep cuts on my legs and stomach ached enough from making the long trek from the northern acres back to the main house, and my shoeless feet were so frozen now they’d turned purple. Another trip to the barn, and I wouldn’t make it back for at least another day.

Tsk, tsk, tsk.
The deep voice slithered through my thoughts. I spun around and instantly cowered. Uncle Mallroy stood several feet away on the stone path that led from the gardens to the ballroom’s patio. He stared in my direction with his dull gray eyes.
There is a trail of blood. Right across the stones. Anyone who comes out to the patio will see.

I looked at the snow-covered ground I’d just trodden on. Sure enough, blood had dripped from my slowly healing wounds in a long, obvious trail. I’d been healing faster lately, but the long walk must have reopened some of the gashes on my legs. It looked as if some animal had been gutted and dragged through the yard.

I looked to Uncle Mallroy, fearful. His face was as indifferent as ever. He had the same thick hair and prominent brow as Father and Uncle Max, but his eyes were always focused on something no one else could see. He was dressed to work in the horses’ stable. He never attended these parties. He hated all the strange people. As I looked at him, his eyes changed shape and color, going from
gray and round to blue and oval, then brown and narrow. It always made me nervous when he did things like that.

Don’t tell.
The thought came unwillingly and surprised me. I’d never asked for anything from anyone, especially one of my relatives. Why I did now, I had no clue. Maybe it was seeing all the hope and joy in the minds of Father’s guests, maybe it was because I was still in so much pain and couldn’t think clearly. Whatever the reason, my child’s mind had let the request slip, and now I held my breath, waiting for his response.

Uncle Mallroy cocked his head and looked at me. His eyes focused on me—one green and round, one black and narrow—and he seemed almost surprised. As if this was the first time he’d actually seen me. With a frown he opened his mouth and said, “Magnolia.” I gasped at the soft rumble. It was the first time I’d ever heard his spoken voice. “Magnolia,” he said again. “We already know.”

No sooner had he spoken the words than three of Father’s guards appeared from a side doorway farther down the house. Automatically, I ran. My legs ached, but it didn’t matter. Instinct always took over when they came for me. Even injured, I moved in a blur. I’d made it all the way to the south side of the house when three more guards were suddenly there, blocking my path. My powers lashed out on their own, cutting the guards, making them curse in pain. The distraction had given the first group time enough to catch up. Thick arms wrapped around me, pinning my arms to my sides. I kicked out and felt the sharp pain of my already-injured legs making contact. Another guard grabbed my legs and immediately bound them with the leather straps they always carried on them. I wanted to scream but knew better than to try. If Father’s guests heard my cries, he’d kill me—then wait until I came back and hurt me again.

The first guard shoved another leather strap so far into my mouth I choked. Then he tossed me over his shoulder. “Cover the blood,” he ordered, then began walking. The other guards moved automatically,
the drugs in their systems ridding them of any thought of not complying.

Bouncing on the guard’s back, I knew I wouldn’t be going back to the barn tonight—there was no time, and the guards had other duties while the guests were there. Instead, he’d take me to the farthest garage, where I’d be locked away until Father was ready to deal with me. I almost preferred the barn.

As we entered the garage, the guard didn’t bother turning on the lights, but the darkness didn’t keep me from seeing the two small forms standing in the shadow of the doorway that led from the garage to the house. Both wearing warm flannel pajamas, Malcolm and Markus watched. They weren’t old enough to attend Father’s parties, so they usually spied on the guests from their hiding places nearby. Apparently, tonight, I was more entertaining.

The guard carried me past the lines of parked cars and stopped at a wall of stacked shelves. He dropped me on the hard cement floor and pulled down one of the medium-size steel trunks Father kept in there to store old documents and business papers. As the guard worked the lock on the trunk, I heard Malcolm’s excited whisper. “See, Markus. It looks like we’ll be getting a decent Christmas present, after all. Just think how fun it will be to watch Father with her in the morning after we open all of our other gifts. And I have the perfect hiding spot to get the best view. We’ll even get one of the cooks to give us hot chocolate before we sneak out.”

They high-fived, then turned and closed the door behind them. The next moment, the guard lifted me into the metal box. He had to bend my legs to get me to fit, and the searing pain of my reopened injuries made my head spin.

Good,
I thought as agony leached away my consciousness.
I’ll pass out for a little while and get some actual rest. See, Malcolm, I’m getting a Christmas present too.

The memory had come unwillingly, but I was glad that it had. It made the Christmas to come that much more important. I had seen the trees and decorations, heard the music, and smelled the treats. But this year, for the first time, I would experience the feeling—the one I had only ever caught from Father’s guests. I felt joy and hope, an excited anticipation that made me not want to sleep even though Christmas morning was still a few days away.

My cell phone vibrated, and I snagged it from my nightstand.

SLEEP SWEET, MAG.

My smile grew so wide it hurt my cheeks as the feeling inside me swelled even more.

Endometriosis: a condition in which bits of the tissue similar to the lining of the uterus grow in other parts of the body.

I shut down Wikipedia.
OK
, I thought,
I pretty much got it
. I ought to be able to get rid of the scar tissue enough for Marie to get pregnant and stay that way until the baby was born. But it sounded like no matter what I did, this stuff would come back again. And that just sucked.

I looked at the love seat under the wide front window. Bags of
stuff
were piled atop the cushions. Christmas shopping had been much more work than I’d ever expected. I mean, how the hell was I supposed to know what size bathrobe Thirteen wore? And Jon or Cordele or Marie and Charles…you’d think being able to hear someone’s thoughts would give a person some insight into what they might want as a gift.