Sorcerer's Legacy (12 page)

“Did you say Rekkus? That huge enforcer guy who met me at the dock? You’re his wife?”

The other woman’s laughter filled the room. “That’s what I thought of him when I first met him. I was a little intimidated. But he’s really a pussycat when you get to know him.” She leaned forward and whispered, “Don’t tell him I said that about him. He hates that.” Her belly jerked just at that moment, and she splayed a hand over it. “Shh, little ones. Calm down.” She fixed Cassidy with a serious look. “You are our guest here. You are
not
a prisoner, and no one here thinks you are crazy. And Rekkus was escorting you more as a protective gesture on behalf of the chairman.”

“Chairman?”
What chairman?

“Mr. Branson.”

Oh! Allan’s father must have requested someone accompany her on the island. It made sense. This was Mr. Branson’s way of expressing his gratitude for saving his son. He’d told her many times on the days he’d visited her in the hospital.

Dana opened a few dresser drawers, displaying neatly folded clothing. “He also arranged for these to be delivered on the ferry.”

Tears swam in her eyes but she managed to keep them from falling. No one had cared for her enough to provide for her in a long time. She cleared her throat to help cover her reaction.

“Thank you, Dana.”

Her simple statement was insufficient for how rude she’d been, but it would have to do. She couldn’t manage any more right now.

Dana squeezed her elbow, dropped the key on the table by the door, suggested she’d feel better after a nap, and left.

Cassidy opened the drawers and inspected the clothing. Mr. Branson had thought of everything; she hadn’t brought much since she’d left directly from the hospital. Restless, she wandered the room and discovered a couple of dresses hanging in the closet before she pulled back the drapes blocking out the sun.

Why would they draw the curtains in the middle of the day? To reflect the heat? Keep the sun’s rays from fading the furniture and carpet? You’d think they’d want to showcase that view of the magnificent gardens and the natural pool beyond.

And what was that cloying smell? Potpourri on steroids. Panic set in as the walls closed in around her, taking her to a place she did not want to go. The room suffocated her like the hospital room where she’d been imprisoned for a week. She had to get outside
now
!

***

“So, your appointment tomorrow—” Sage suddenly broke off mid-sentence.

Trevor knew something was up when the three siblings in the lobby reacted simultaneously, glancing toward the elevator. Cemil, the tall, male version of Sage with his blonde hair and calm disposition, strode purposefully toward the third elevator, the one that shouldn’t be in use right now. Cyrus, the dark-haired brother of the family, raised his brow. All the humans should be napping due to the relaxing herbs purposely placed in their rooms.

Cassidy.

Sage turned Trevor so Cassidy wouldn’t see him. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Cemil gliding up to her and tucking her arm in his, like they were lovers.

A jolt of jealously speared through his body.

Sage whispered, “Be calm, my friend. Cemil is only taking her to the garden where Dana will shortly join her.” With a quirk of her mouth, she added, “She’s still yours.”

He couldn’t contain the growl that escaped him. “She’s my new charge. That is all.”

“Sure she is, Trevor.”

With a quick pat to his cheek that left him grumbling under his breath, Sage breezed away in her gauzy skirt. He wished she wasn’t right. Why couldn’t he want Sage instead of Cassidy? He couldn’t forget the sexy blonde who’d occupied his dreams as well as his waking thoughts since the shooting.

Her hazel eyes had shimmered green, like holly leaves in a forest clearing. Their gazes had remained locked as she’d crawled to his side to tend his wound. He’d have died happily then, connected to her, her tears splashing on his face. Instead, he’d been rushed away from her by the backup team. That memory of her had haunted him: Cassie crying for him, kneeling next to his pool of blood.

Now he knew she’d been punished by her kind for telling the truth. Worse, his kind, paranormals, had put her in that position and she’d been alone to deal with both the confinement and the grief.

Guilt, hot and bitter, flowed through him, clogging his throat. Damn it, emotion had caused him to miss the signals of an imminent attack and had put her and his charge in danger; he would not allow those feelings to hinder his assignment again. Especially with Cassidy.

As her assigned protector, he had to keep it professional. Starting now.