The Promised One (The Turning Stone Chronicles) (13 page)

Chapter 23

Rhys was on the patio grilling steaks when the doorbell rang. Alexi squinted through the peephole. A bear of a man, with reddish-gray hair, leaning on an elegant glass-topped cane, stood on the other side. She withdrew her gun from the hall table drawer, tucked it in the small of her back, then opened the door as wide as the safety chain would allow.

“Can I help you?” she asked.

“The name’s Eli McCraigen,” the man said in a thick Scottish accent. “Ye must be Alexi.”

“Yes,” Alexi replied cautiously.

“I’ve come tae talk tae yer uncle, Baron.”

“How do you know Baron?” Her curiosity rose.

“We’re auld friends.”

“He never mentioned you to me.”
But he never mentioned Sylvia either. How many more “old” friends are going to arrive on the doorstep? And why are they suddenly appearing?
Baron’s death seemed to have precipitated a shifter convention. First Sylvia, then that bar full of rogues, and now this man. She didn’t like it, not one bit.

“Is hisself home?”

“No.” She wasn’t about to announce to a stranger that Baron was dead—at least not until she had more information about him.

The man inserted his hand into his jacket pocket. Alexi tensed, her hand moving for the gun tucked in her pants.

“He sent me this.” Eli extracted an envelope from the jacket and slid it through the opening. “Since he’s nae in, perhaps it’ll do as an introduction.”

She took the envelope. Baron’s loopy, left-slanted script and his specialty return label proved the letter was from him.

“Ye can open it, if ye like,” Eli said. “It concerns ye.”

She took the letter from the envelope and read the page.

Eli,

I know it’s been years since you’ve heard from me, not since my brother’s murder, but Alexi’s time has come. I tried to shield her from the destiny, teaching her only the basics of the ring and waiting until she was an adult to start any training. I didn’t want to push her, but now she is developing skills I’ve not taught her. I need someone from the Council to come and assess her, and I can’t think of anyone I trust more than the man I fought beside in so many battles. After making such a mess of Sylvia, I don’t trust my judgment. I need an advocate on the Council and your advice. If you agree with my assessment, I want to present Alexi to the Council this coming Samhain. Please come as soon as possible.

Your friend,

Baron Temple

The letter’s date and postmark indicated Baron had written the letter about two weeks prior to his death. Prickles crept over her arms.
My time? Present me to the Council?
Sylvia’s comment about the Promised One came back to her. Had Baron sent for Eli because of the great destiny he always insisted she had? She closed the door and rested her forehead against the solid surface. Life was already too complicated. She didn’t need this.

“Lassie,” Eli called through the door. “It’s important I talk tae Baron and ye. Verra important.” He rapped on the door. “Dinna go yet. Please.”

Alexi unlatched the chain and waved Eli in. She’d hear him out and let him know Baron was dead.

Eli swept his gaze over her. “Och, lassie, it’s like lookin’ at yer mither.”

“You knew her?”

“Aye. And yer faither and brother. I ken them quite well.”

Despite her misgivings over the suspected purpose of his visit, she immediately warmed to the big Scotsman. He gave her a big smile that made him appear like a grinning teddy bear. The effect was quite disarming.

She checked out his aura. Green and gold with a hint of red that matched his hair. Nothing dark about the halo surrounding him. She let her guard down a bit.

“Twas a shame what happened tae them.” He shook his head and his curly reddish-gray hair tossed about like a breeze blew through the strands. “Lovely people, they were, yer parents.”

“You must tell me all about them.”

“Baron dinna tell ye?”

“My uncle thought the less we spoke about them, the faster the pain of losing them would go away.”

“Rubbish. One should embrace the memories o’ the dead. He shoulda filled yer head with good memories tae keep them alive.” Eli looked deep into her eyes and clucked sympathetically. “I can tell Baron’s method dinna help ye much. There’s a sadness in yer soul, lassie. A deep sadness.”

His gaze warmed her, made her want to pour her heart out to him. She closed her eyes before Eli could uncover the rest of her soul. She had managed to hide her inmost feelings from everyone, including Rhys. She certainly didn’t want to let a virtual stranger discover what she had guarded for so many years. Letting someone in that deep was dangerous.

Much to her relief, Rhys entered from the patio carrying a platter of pork chops, interrupting the intense moment.

Eli inhaled deeply and then backed toward the door. “Och. I’ve come at a bad time. Yer aboot tae eat. I should come back later . . . when Baron’s home.”

“Who is this guy?” Rhys scowled at Eli.

“Relax, Rhys. He’s an old friend of Baron.” She stepped behind Eli and closed the door. “Stay for dinner.”

“Are ye sure, lassie?”

“Yeah, are you sure?” Rhys echoed, surprise creasing his brow.

Alexi nodded. “Rhys, could you set an extra plate while I fill Eli in on Baron?”

“Are you sure you don’t need me?” His face had a worried expression.

“No.” Alexi pointed toward the living room. “Let’s sit down, Eli. This is going to be a long story.”

She filled Eli in on Baron’s murder and warned him not to mention anything about the Turning Stone Society in front of Rhys. “As far as he knows, I’m just a regular gal who happens to be a homicide detective.”

“Ye and I must talk alone, lassie, for Baron sent for me aboot Society things,” Eli said.

“I’ll try to get Rhys to leave after dinner, if I can.”

Eli cocked a bushy, disapproving brow at her. “He dinna live here, does he?”

“It’s complicated, Eli.”

“What’s complicated aboot yes or no?”

“Someone broke in the night Baron was murdered. Rhys claimed squatter rights in order to protect me.”

“And ye canna get him tae leave.”

“Well . . .”

Eli nodded knowingly. “Ye dinna want him tae go.”

He was peering into her soul again. She should have been shocked, or even insulted, at Eli’s straightforwardness. They had just met and he was treating her like he’d known her for years, but, on some level, it felt good. No, more than good. It was like having Baron sitting across from her. How she missed that. She dropped her gaze from Eli and gave a tiny shake of her head. “No. I dinna want him tae go.”

“One more thing we’ll have tae talk aboot, lassie.”

She wasn’t sure she liked the sound of that. But she’d deal with it later.

Alexi tried to keep the dinner conversation light, but Rhys had insisted on grilling Eli.
Who was he? How had he known Baron? Why was he appearing now?

“Should I just put me arse on the barbeque for ye and be done with it, lad?” Eli asked after enduring interrogation though the salad and main courses. “If I burn, ye’ll ken me to be evil.”

Alexi nearly choked on her iced tea. She shoved her napkin against her mouth to stop the embarrassing eruption and the laugh bubbling out.

“That’s enough, Rhys,” she said, when she managed to get control over her throat. “Eli means me no harm. Get off his jugular and apologize.”

“He dinna have tae do that. He’s only protecting ye. A blind man could see it.”

“Sometimes she is blind,” Rhys said.

“Just like love,” Eli said, directing his comment at Rhys.

“I can see, McCraigen. More than you might believe.”

“Then, surely, ye can tell I’m here tae protect the lassie, too. When yer uncle and I were just pups,” Eli said to Alexi, “we made a vow tae take care o’ each other’s loved ones, if the need should arise. I’d say, given the circumstances, the need is here.”

Rhys got to his feet and stared down at Eli. “I can take care of her, old man.”

Eli sank back into his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “Aye, I can see the strength of youth in ye. But I dinna see the wisdom o’ age. Dinna ya know that all the keys in the land are not owned by one man?” Eli stood, drawing himself to his full height. For a moment, it seemed to Alexi that he grew bigger and menacing as he stared Rhys down. “I’ve more tae offer than ye ken, lad.” He held his right hand out. “I’d prefer tae be working with ye than agin ye.”

Alexi held her breath waiting for Rhys’ response. In the short time she’d known Eli, she realized she needed someone like him in her life. Someone to replace Baron. If Rhys refused Eli’s offer of friendship she might be forced to choose between them. She didn’t want to do that. Rhys looked at her.
Please,
she mouthed silently.

With a reluctant shrug, Rhys extended his hand to Eli. “For Alexi’s sake,” he said with resolve. As he clasped Eli’s big hand in his, Rhys added, “I hope she’s right about you.”

She hoped so, too.

His peace made with Eli, she managed to convince Rhys to go spend some time at his apartment so she and Eli could talk alone. As Rhys carried his dirty laundry out of Baron’s office, he stopped, kissed her on the top of the head, and handed her cell phone to her.

“I put my number on your speed dial. Hit one if you need to call me quickly.”

“You didn’t need to do that.”

“Precaution,” Rhys answered. “My youthful strength won’t be here to protect you—”

“So you thought you’d try some wisdom?”

“Can’t hurt.” He crossed the foyer to the front door, picked his Stetson off the hall table, then paused. “Check in with me so I know you’re okay.”

“Rhys.”

“Humor me. Just once.”

“Okay. Just once.” It was a small price to pay for a few hours of privacy. She set the phone alarm for one hour. It wouldn’t do to have Rhys busting in because she forgot to call. She removed the extra door key from the hall table drawer and handed it to Rhys. “Take this.”

He eyed the key. “Am I moving in?”

“No. I thought it might ease your mind to know you can get in without breaking down the door. Not that I expect you’ll need to.”

“Thanks.” Rhys pocketed the key, shifted the laundry basket to his hip, and embraced her.

Alexi struggled against him. “Not now. Eli might catch us.”

Rhys released her. “How long are we going to keep this a secret? I want the world to know how I feel about you.”

She tucked a wayward sock back into the basket. “I don’t know. I’m just not ready yet.”

“Soon, Lexi. Make it soon.” He kissed her cheek, opened the front door, and strode down the sidewalk, glancing back at her as he went. She watched him get into his truck and drive away.

“He’s a guid-looking mon, yer Rhys,” Eli said from behind her. “Too bad ye’ll have tae tell him ‘tis over.”

Chapter 24

The front door closed with a bang as Alexi whirled around to face Eli. “What?”

“A Promised One canna be involved with a non-shifter.”

“I’m not a Promised One,” she said vehemently. “I’m a cop, who just happens to own a Celtic magic ring.”

“Ye canna kindle a fire in yer breast unless yer able to follow it to the end, lassie. Ye were wrong tae start it,” Eli said, bringing the conversation back to the romantic relationship.

“I didn’t mean for it to happen. Baron died, and Rhys was there to comfort me. And when Sylvia—”

“Sylvia?” He spat the name out. “Ye dinna tell me that the daughter o’ the moonless night was entangled in Baron’s death.”

“She’s not, at least I don’t think so. She’s helping me track the killer so we can get Baron’s ring back.”

“Nae, lassie. Dinna believe she’s helping ye. That one helps nae one but herself.”

“But she said the Council told her to work with me. Well, not with me, because they said it’s too risky for her to shift and hunt Baron’s killer. That’s why they want me to do it alone.”

His ruddy cheeks flushed maroon and his gray eyes smoldered like ashen charcoal. “We’d nae be sending ye oot on yer own tae find a killer. Firstly, we don’t ken that much aboot yer powers. Secondly, I dinna even ken where ye were ‘til I got Baron’s letter.” He lumbered across the foyer, pacing like a caged bear. “She dinna come with any blessing from our Council.” He stopped and stared at her, concern etched across his face. “What else did the she-witch want ye tae do?”

She’d sensed Sylvia wasn’t to be trusted, but the depth of loathing Eli displayed took her by surprise. She’d trusted Sylvia because of her connection with Baron. To hear his closest friend call her a she-witch deepened her uneasiness about Sylvia, sending a knot plummeting into her stomach. “She’s not on the Council?”

“Mayhap she is on a council. She’s got the required abilities. Baron saw tae that. But she’s nae on ours.”

“She’s a rogue?” Her voice wavered, all her worst suspicions about Sylvia confirmed.

“She’s worse than a rogue. She’s a traitor.” Eli steered Alexi into the living room. “It wisnae enough tae become a rogue shifter herself, she tried tae sway Baron and yer family into evil as well. It’s the likes o’ her that we’ve been fighting for centuries. She’s black, Alexi. As black as they come.”

In her quest for information about Baron, she’d ignored the whorls of black she’d seen in Sylvia’s aura. Let her heart override her instincts. She shouldn’t have done that.

Legs quivering like gelatin, she plopped onto the couch. Everything made sense now: why Sylvia kept pumping her for family history, her birth date, her skill level. “She said the Council thought I had Promised One potential. She wanted to know my birth date.”

Eli sat on the couch next to her and laid his gnarled hand over hers. “Ye dinna tell her, did ye?”

“She asked if I’d reached the third level of shifting. Tested me to find out if I could see auras.”

“By the Druid’s beard, lassie.” The old man’s voice shook with anxiety. “Ye dinna tell her, did ye?”

“No.”

Eli sank back against the couch and exhaled in one giant
whoosh
. “Guid, lassie. Ye did guid.”

“Eli, what do you think she wants? Besides the ring?”

“I canna ken for certain, but tae have ye dead would be my guess.”

“She’s had plenty of opportunities to kill me, if that’s what she wants.”

“Then ye havenae served yer purpose yet, lassie. Trust me, when she’s nae more need for ye, she’ll do ye in a hirtbeat and not blink an eye ower it.”

A chill ran over Alexi. “I’ve never done anything to make her want me dead. I just met the woman.”

“‘Tis not who ye are, ‘tis
what
ye are that she hates.”

“A cop?”

“A shifter . . . from one o’ the most powerful lines o’ shifters in the history o’ the Turning Stones.” He raked his hands through his hair, standing many strands on end. “Baron did ye a great disservice hiding ye away. Ye should have been taken under the wings o’ the best on the Council and trained for yer destiny.”

There it was again, that nagging word, destiny. How she hated it. “What do
you
think my destiny is, Eli? Sylvia said Promised One. Baron only hinted at greatness. I’d like to know for sure where everyone else thinks my life is going. I’m pretty certain it won’t match my perceptions.”

Eli quirked a bushy eyebrow. “A bit crabbitt, are ye? Ye can’t just put your hand intae the creel, lassie, and take yer choice o’ flounders.”

“What the heck does that mean? Do you always talk in riddles?”

“You have tae deal with what life gives ye, Alexi. And ‘tis given ye a hard destiny tae fulfill.”

“I don’t want that destiny. I want a normal life, with a husband and kids. And a dog.”
Normal people had dogs, didn’t they?
“I want a dog,” she repeated, as if that would magically alter her life.

“The dog ye can have. The rest, maybe not. Unless ye find a nice shifter tae marry. Which brings us back tae the start o’ this conversation. You have tae break it off with the lad.”

“I can’t.”

“Ye have tae, lassie. For his safety.”

“I can’t,” she repeated, knowing she would have to. “He’s my link to normalcy. I . . .”
I love him.

“If ye care a’tall aboot him, ye have tae let him go.”

She hid her face from Eli and swiped at a tear. Eli tilted her chin back toward him. “What yer uncle said in the letter aboot ‘yer time had come’ . . . he meant ye were ready tae be introduced tae the Council as a potential Promised One. He would have wanted ye tae take yer place in the Society. ‘Tis what he was training ye for.”

“Then why did he wait until I was twenty-one to start? If this Promised One thing is so important, shouldn’t he have started as soon as my family was killed? So I could find their killers? Wreak godly Council revenge on them for killing my family and stealing their rings?”

“He probably waited for that verra reason. Revenge is never the right motive. And he ken from experience that rushing a young mentee tae full potential wisnae a guid thing.”

Alexi jerked free of Eli. “And why didn’t the Council do something? Why would I want to be associated with a bunch of people who didn’t investigate a triple murder?” She jumped to her feet, yanked off her bloodstone ring, and threw it at Eli. “I don’t want the life you’re proposing for me.”

Eli picked the ring off his lap and stood, towering over her. “Sit, lassie, and I’ll tell ye what I ken. What I think yer uncle’s reasons were for hiding ye away and waiting till ye were a grown woman tae start yer training.”

“I don’t care anymore,” she said petulantly.

He pushed her onto the couch. “Put yer ring back on,” he ordered, “and don’t take it off agin . . . for any reason. Yer in danger and I’m going tae tell ye why.”

She scowled at him and jammed the ring back onto her finger.

“When yer mither and faither and brother were killed, we couldnae believe the guid luck in yer escaping the fate. Baron, who was on the Council at the time, resigned his post and disappeared, taking ye with him. The Council did investigate the murders. We shoogled every rock and searched in every cranny for the slime that killed yer family. But they vanished like ye and Baron.

“They were killed on Samhain, you ken. The most powerful magic night o’ the year. We figured the culprits wanted the family dead for twofold purpose: tae stop the linage o’ the Jordan family, and tae seal the new ownership o’ the rings by stealing them on Samhain. Now that yer existence has been confirmed, yer in grave danger.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Whoever possesses a Turning Stone ring on Samhain becomes its owner.”

“Is that why Baron gave me my grandmother’s ring on Halloween?”

“Aye. Did he have ye read the inscription that night?”

She nodded. “Scared the heck out of me. I thought I was having a heart attack.”

“‘Tis a bit tae get used tae. Does it bother ye now?”

“No, I’m way past that point. Do you
have
to read the inscription on Samhain to make the ring yours?”

Eli rifled his hand through his hair again, bushing every strand higher, giving him the appearance of a wild man. “I canna believe yer uncle left ye so uninformed. ‘Tis not like him tae footer aboot and do such a thing.”

“Maybe he planned a crash course before he died,” Alexi suggested. “You were telling me about Samhain and the inscription.”

“The intersection o’ Samhain and the reading makes the bond between ring and owner stronger and brings the most magic oot o’ the wearer, but isnae necessary tae become the owner. If someone possesses a ring before Samhain ‘tis verra easy tae break the bond between ring and possessor. You simply steal the ring. But after Samhain, and especially after the inscription has been read on Samhain, tae separate the ring from its owner requires the owner tae be killed.”

A horrible thought crossed her mind. “Does that mean that if I don’t find Baron’s ring before Halloween, I’ll have to kill the wearer?” The thought of premeditated murder chilled her.

“Aye, it does, lassie.”

She’d hoped she could just find him, knock him out somehow, and take the ring. She wasn’t sure she could kill in cold blood. Murder would cause her to lose her job. The city frowned on cops killing citizens.

“Have ye any idea who might have the ring?”

“I’ve seen him twice now—once as what I believe is his true form and once mimic shifted. I also think he mugged someone as Baron.”

“What aboot putting oot an APB thing on him?”

“I thought about that, but if he’s shifting forms, it’s just a shot in the dark.”

“Shifting like that increases his risk o’ retaining parts o’ his shifted forms, which’ll put him in a semi-permanent shifted shape.”

“A semi-permanent shift could make him easier to track, unless he was mixed in with more shifters—like the thirty or so I ran across in a bar this morning. Even though I could sense all of them were shifted, it was nearly impossible to separate them.”

“Thirty shifters? By the Druid’s beard! What were sae many doing in one place?”

“I wondered the same thing. Could word about Baron’s missing ring be circulating among the rogues?”

“Aye. Ye can be certain o’ that. Sylvia’d have her lackeys oot in force hunting agin ye. Hedging her bets in case ye dinna come through.”

The odds were getting worse. Not only did she have to protect her back against Sylvia, she had more shifters to worry about, no apparent backup, and only six days to retrieve the ring before she had to kill someone. “So how do you propose I catch him and give everyone else the slip?”

“I canna say for certain, but we’ll have tae be canny aboot it. Let me sleep on it and I’ll come back in the mairning with an answer.”

“I work tomorrow.”

“Not any more. Along with the lad, ya need tae get rid o’ the job. You’ve only six days tae catch a killer, and, if I’m right, only six days tae prepare tae save yer ownself.”

“Wait a minute. You can’t expect me to quit my whole life. I won’t do it.”

“Whether ye do it or not, yer life’s in danger. Tae my way o’ thinking, it’s better tae fight with everything ye got at yer disposal, having no millstones round your neck.”

“Rhys isn’t a millstone.”

”Have ye told him what ye are? Has he accepted yer true self?

“No.”

“Then he’s weighing ye down sure as he is. Git rid o’ him, lassie. ‘Tis time ye soared.”

Time I soared? Just what does the old man know about me that he isn’t telling?

“We’ll start yer testing when I return.” Eli headed toward the front door.

She trailed after him. “Testing? For what?”

“Tae confirm yer the next Promised One.”

After Eli left she locked the door behind him. If only the sun wouldn’t rise tomorrow. It would be the only way she could escape what appeared to be an inevitable fate.