Falling Into Place (16 page)

James slowly sat up with a glare. Moving
sent another wave of aches through his frail body. “Took you long
enough.”

“I assumed the great James McCallister would
wake up without any outside help. Though, I suppose twenty-one
years in a forced coma would weaken anyone.” Jarvis shook his head,
an evil smirk twisting his features. “Does that mean you’ll want
help dealing with Emily?”

“I’ll need help dropping her off at
Robert’s, but you will not defile her.”

Jarvis sighed, but kept his mouth shut. That
was wise on his part. Emily belonged to James, and no one else.

He heard someone upstairs. James whispered,
“Make yourself scarce.” Standing was awkward without orientation,
but he managed to walk to the hall. He shut the door, warding it
from being opened. He didn’t want Jarvis interfering.

He was going to give Emily a little payback
for locking him away for twenty-one years.

James made his way to the door next to the
bottom of the stairs. It was hidden, and he knew for a fact that it
wasn’t in the blueprints.

A few minutes later, Emily opened the door
and reached inside to flip on the light. James caught her wrist and
pulled her magic into himself, fueling his waning energy. Before
she could twist free, he pushed a dark spell into her, forcing her
to relive all of her worst memories. Her body would wither, and
finally die.

His sister had the power to heal his body
entirely, and she left him a ruined mess. With her new found
defiance, she was no good to him, and he refused to let anyone else
have her.

* * * *

Tremaine took a seat at the end of the bar
and watched the way Liz responded to Clint. Her speech was slurred
and she was weaving on her feet.

He knew what was coming. She would go home
with Clint before stumbling home to drink another bottle of
Voodoo.

The werewolf wasn’t the worst choice and if
it wasn’t him, it would be some other man. At least Clint was a
safe choice, and might have a chance at helping her heal from all
the pain she carried.

God knew he had tried time and time again to
help her let go of her misery. Every time he thought she was ready
to move on and let the past go to let him all the way in, she
pushed him away.

No matter what she did, he would remain at
her side. His only goal was to see her happy again, no matter what
that took. He still believed Robert was the one person she could
ever love, but he found himself wishing he could be the one in her
heart.

Victoria slid onto the seat next to him with
a wicked little smile. “Trem, darling, please tell me you are in
need of a little affection?”

His eyes closed and he shook his head. “Not
tonight. I need to be around for a friend.” Truth was, he wasn’t
interested in another night with Victoria.

Her gaze slid over to Liz and back to him.
“You know, you should tell her the truth.”

“I do every single day.” He sighed, and
looked back down at his beer. The truth was that she was in love
with Robert and one of them needed to make the first step toward
fixing what they had broken.

Victoria snorted. “If that were so, neither
of you would be here right now. You’d be wound around each other in
a lovers embrace”

Tremaine looked back at Victoria and shook
his head. “Don’t tell me about my feelings. You don’t know the hell
she’s been through. You don’t know what she could have if she went
and righted her one wrong. They are both so fucking stubborn it
hurts.”

Victoria leaned in and whispered against his
ear. “Trust me, Trem. That woman loves you. She’s only playing with
Clint because he likes it when she ties him up. Did you know she
never undresses for him? That she only ever pulls up her skirt and
shifts her thong out of the way?”

“Damn it, Vic,” he growled. “I know you love
to watch, but I don’t need to hear about her habits when she’s in
another man’s bed.”

She sat back and looked at him for a long
moment. “Liz watched us the one time you brought me home. She stood
there in the shadows diddling herself until she came. I could smell
her desire stronger than your own.” Her brow arched and he glared
back, but he couldn’t argue. Vic was right, he didn’t desire her.
Victoria shrugged one shoulder, a smirk playing on her lips. “Liz
stayed and watched until you came. She slipped into her room before
you ever noticed, and probably drank an extra bottle because it
wasn’t her you were boning.”

“Fuck, Vic. Just stop. You don’t know the
many reasons why I can never tell her how I feel.”

“You love her. That’s the only thing that
matters,” Victoria murmured before she stood and walked out of the
bar.

Love
? It was so much more than that. He never wanted Liz to think
he felt sorry for her or pitied her because he never had. No, he
admired her courage and strength even when he hated the walls she
built around herself.

She never cried. Not once in front of
Tremaine, not even when she had all the reasons in the world to
fall apart. Instead she always put herself back together and pushed
on.

He’d been there with her through everything.
If she felt even an inkling of what he felt, she would come to
him.

She didn’t.

It wasn’t in their cards.

* * * *

Clint had passed out after the orgasm of his
life. Liz had left deep scratches down his chest. His wrists were
raw from the silver cuffs he insisted on, and bloody from where he
pulled at the restraints. He was a hot mess.

Liz unlocked the cuffs, and climbed from the
bed. She shifted her clothes back into place before walking out the
door.

She felt hollow.

He had loved every second, and she hadn’t
even gotten off. Somehow, she managed to walk down the driveway and
across the street. It wouldn’t bother her if a truck came out of
nowhere and took her from the well of pain she existed in.

Blinking back tears and memories of her
years without Robert, she made it inside and into the front closet
where she had a hidey hole made from the same magic she had created
in her trunk years ago. She stashed her Voodoo there.

Tremaine was in the habit of getting rid of
her favorite spiced rum if he found it. She didn’t blame him. She
despised herself for her coping mechanism, but it was the only
thing that allowed her to sleep through the night without old
nightmares.

There would be a couple more weeks of this
self-imposed hell, but it was the anniversary of the night her
whole life fell apart. It was a downward spiral until she hit rock
bottom, and then she would snap out of it and life would go on
until the next year.

With a fresh bottle in hand, she made it up
the stairs and locked the door, before stripping off her clothes
and burrowing under the covers to drink her nightmares into
oblivion.

Something was wrong, really horribly wrong.
Robert bolted out of bed in a cold sweat as his eyes darted around
the room. His nightmare still clung to him, the past ever haunting
him.

The morning he had found Liz was still fresh
in his mind. The horror of finding her asleep and bleeding. He
never did find out what happened. Tremaine would only tell him that
he needed to talk to Liz about it, but she was the one who begged
him to let her go.

His hand went to his chest where her
handprint was still a smooth white scar as a tear fell down his
face. He couldn’t catch his breath, his heart pounded against his
ribs. Mornings like these were hell.

The thud outside pulled him back into the
present. Something hit the porch. All he could think about was Liz,
broken and bleeding. He was on his feet, racing to the front door
to throw it open.

He saw Emily’s blond hair and relief washed
over him. It wasn’t Liz curled in a wet shivering mess.

“Emily?” He asked quietly as he stepped into
the pouring rain and knelt down beside his sister.

Her haunted amber eyes were surrounded by
dark circles, and her pale skin had a greenish sheen. She was so
terribly thin. Her hands locked onto his arms. “Help me.” Her voice
was strained and hoarse.

Robert gently lifted his sister in his arms.
She weighed next to nothing. He carried her to her old room, but
she went limp before he ever made it up the stair.

He should have pushed harder, should have
kept on her case until she talked to him. Every time he asked what
was wrong, she told him nothing. Like a fool he dropped it.

Robert redressed Emily in flannel pajamas,
and wrapped her in blankets. He sat down beside her on the bed, and
gently shook her. “Emily, I need you to wake up.”

Her eyes fluttered open, and then went wide.
She grabbed his wrists and whispered frantically, “Lizard’s hole.
In Lizard’s hole.” A ragged cry escaped her lips before she
collapsed on the bed.

His teeth ground together at the slur his
sister always used against Liz. Just once he wished she could
accept Liz completely. That was unlikely. Emily still believed Liz
was dead.

Robert could feel dark magic at work on
Emily, but that was far from his area of expertise. His faith in
the council had dwindled, leaving him few options.

He wasn’t sure who to trust after the way
they had treated Liz. There was evidence that high ranking
officials had been involved with the Dale’s fighting rings for
years. Those mages had disappeared before being apprehended, and
the only one who knew was Jarvis. The corruption seemed to be
growing.

Emily still held the belief that mages were
superior. She would likely hate his plan, but he needed to take her
somewhere unaffiliated with the Silver Council. Robert knew of a
place that would keep her safely hidden.

With his decision made, he hurried up the
stairs to his room and grabbed his cell phone. His eyes closed as
he whispered the spell to block all listening devices. Jarvis had
bugged the place, but he was arrogant enough to believe no one
knew.

He dialed Gabriel, a druid whom Robert
trusted. It only rang once. “Hey, Robert, you okay, man?” The gruff
voice was a relief.

“No, my sister is in bad shape. I can’t
trust the Council with her. Not this time. I need to know if I can
bring her to you and if you can maybe help me bring her to the
Druid Compound in Washington. It’s far enough away that she should
be safe.”

“Sure thing. When should I expect you?”

“Give me ten minutes.” He wanted to make a
final check on the wards. Someone had left Emily to send a message.
Robert couldn’t figure out what and he didn’t want to tip anyone
off.

“I’ll see you then.” The connection went
dead.

* * * *

The repeated tapping sound drove a tire iron
right into her skull. Liz took a peek from under her comforter and
saw Tremaine standing on the other side of the glass door. His gray
t-shirt clung to his chiseled body and his jeans hung low enough to
tempt her no matter how shitty she felt.

One dark brow arched as a mixture of concern
and humor played through his warm brown eyes.

“Come on, Liz. I’m not leaving. You may as
well let me in.”

Stupid fucking man, waking
me up at…
she glanced at the clock and
glared.
Eleven in the morning. Okay, so
maybe not that early.

With a flick of her wrist, the door
unlocked.

Tremaine stepped inside and strode over to
the bed. He sat down next to her with a wicked grin. “Morning. I’d
say good, but I’m guessing you’re hung-over. You rarely sleep this
late, and you look awfully pissed off.”

She flipped him off with a snarl and
retreated under the blankets. He rubbed a hand up and down her
back, sending a shiver all the way to her toes.

“Go away,” she groaned. “I’m sleeping.”

“Oh no, doll, you promised you would come to
Christian’s party, and you are coming. You need to get out. I know
what’s going on in your head right now, but we’re going to get you
out of this funk. So get your pretty little ass out of bed, and in
the shower, or I will take you myself.”

And he would. He had before, and it wouldn’t
even be the last time.

Unfortunately, it wouldn’t be the sexy type
of shower.

“You are an evil, evil man, Tremaine. My
head is killing me. Just let me sleep.” She might have pleaded a
little too much, but Tremaine had seen her at her very worst
countless times, so it wasn’t like he cared.

He sighed, and his hand never stopped the
gentle rubbing that eased some of her anxiety. “You know you’ll
find a reason to put off getting ready, and claim you are bailing.
You’ll get shitfaced, and then out of guilt, show up for
Christian’s twenty-first birthday party. So no, I’m staying and
you’re getting your ass ready so I can take you to breakfast,
brunch, lunch whatever the hell you want to call it.”

“You’re a pain in the ass,” she
grumbled.

He chuckled. “Yes, but I’m your pain in the
ass, and I’m going to stick to you like glue until I deliver you to
the party. Sober. You can drink yourself into a stupor after
arriving.”

He was right. Christian was family and she
couldn’t bail. “You aren’t going to leave me alone, are you?” She
sighed, throwing the covers off and storming into the bathroom.

“Of course not, doll. Besides, I see that
empty bottle of Voodoo. A whole bottle of rum.” He shook his head.
“Nightmares again?”

She left the door open. Tremaine would have
followed her anyway. He was a pushy bastard when he was in
protector mode. She loved that about him, but she’d never admit it
in a million years.

Keeping her back to him, she flipped the
water on before placing her hands against the wall and staring at
the drain as the water cascaded over her throbbing head.