The Forbidden Trilogy (80 page)

He paused long enough to look her in the eyes. "Are you
sure?"

She nodded. "I want to be with you, Hunter. I need
you."

They lost themselves in each other's embrace. Skin on skin,
flesh on flesh, they became one.

The wind blew icy raindrops into my window, as if tiny
bullets assaulted the mansion. I considered going outside just so the rain
could blend with my tears and hide the evidence of my mourning. At least the
thunder camouflaged the sounds of my sobs. I had failed at everything.

First I'd failed to save Mary without destroying Drake, then
failed at helping Tommy and saving his mother, and finally failed at keeping my
own daughter safe. Somehow, my bastard of a father had gotten to her, and I
couldn't figure out how or when, or even why. I knew he wanted her, but had no
idea what he planned to do with her once he got her. What was his end game?

I fantasized that somehow, once the sun came out and the
rain stopped its incessant hammering, Ana would reappear, and I could hold her
in my arms and never let go. Another sob racked my body, one of her baby
blankets pressed to my face to absorb the tears.
Oh God, Ana. I'm so sorry,
baby. If you can hear me, or feel me, I'm here. I'll find you, I swear it.

My sketchbook lay open in front of me, images of Ana
everywhere. I flipped through the pages, and a new wave of tears formed as
Luke's and Lucy's faces assaulted my heart. I couldn’t lose them all. I just
couldn't. On the next page, Drake stared back at me with those sexy eyes and
chiseled features. Even a black and white sketch made my stomach do flip-flops.

Well screw him.
I tore out the page, crumbled it up
and threw it across the room.

I needed someone who would be there for me and my baby, not
a coward who would run away when things got hard. Where was he now? He hadn't
called, hadn't shown up as promised. He'd broken my trust again. I wished Luke
and Lucy were back, safe. We would celebrate their birthday with a big cake and
a fun party. They could sing their awesome song, and I could paint them a
beautiful portrait to commemorate their adulthood. I'd have someone to talk to.
Maybe it would even stop raining.

But they weren't here, and I couldn't stand another moment
of being alone in my head—well, as alone as I could be with other peoples'
thoughts flowing around in there.

Darren could offer comfort—
had
offered. "I'm
here, night or day, if you need to talk," he'd said. I'd nodded, knowing I
couldn't take him up on that offer.

But I had to do something other than sit here, moping and
crying, while my daughter and all the people I loved most stood in harm's way.
For two hours, I'd tried to channel my new powers, but all attempts to connect
with Ana and Tommy fell flat. Their mental signatures eluded me, and I felt so
empty and alone without my daughter.

I needed someone to talk to, someone who'd do whatever it
took to help me. Darren. He'd already done so much, already proven how far he
would go to help me and Ana.

Oh, what the hell. I'm not seducing the guy, just asking
to talk.
I set the sketchbook aside and headed to Darren's room the next
hall over.

I paused in front of his door, fist poised to knock, but
couldn't complete the action. No matter how I justified it, he would take this
as a sign of hope for us, and a relationship didn't seem likely given my
current state. Was that really fair to him?

It didn't matter. I needed an ally who would help me save my
daughter.

Decision made, I braced myself again to knock, but before my
fist hit the door, it opened, and Darren stood there, smiling.

His smile faltered at my puffy, bloodshot eyes. He opened
his arms, and all of my resolve faded as I gave in to the comfort he offered.

No more tears would come, but I let go of the last of my
self-pity with my cheek pressed against his chest.

I looked up at him, ready to tell him of my plan, when he
leaned down to kiss me.

My body froze as I tried to decide whether to pull away or
see what it felt like to kiss another man.

A knock at the front door made my decision for me. I pulled
away. "Someone's here. It could be about Ana."

He nodded and followed me out of his room, the heat between
us fading in the cold hallway.

I opened the front door, and my jaw dropped in shock.

Drake stood on the porch, dripping wet, looking every bit as
wonderful as the first time I'd met him.

I slapped him in the face, hard. "How could you leave
me?" My response shocked me, but all the tension and fear and anger sprang
free of my heart now that it finally had a target.

He didn't stop me or defend himself, which very well might
have saved his life in that moment. As quick as lightning, my anger turned to
grief and relief, and those tears that I'd only recently pushed below the
surface rose up to swallow me.

Drake pulled me into his arms, and I couldn't help but hold
him close. To have him here, to finally hold him and lean on him—it was too
hard to stay mad through all that.

When my tears died down, Drake wiped my eyes. "I love
you, Sam, and I'm so sorry I ever left you and our child. I screwed up in the
most unforgivable way, but I'm back now, and I'll never leave either of you
again. I swear. Can you forgive me?"

I pulled out of his arms and stepped back enough to gain
perspective. Could I forgive him? Would he hurt me again? "I will," I
decided. "I will forgive you, but not yet. I'm not ready. It will take
time."

Darren coughed lightly behind me, intruding on what might
have been an intimate moment if I hadn't been on the verge of kissing him a few
moments prior.

Drake's face fell like a kicked puppy, but he nodded.
"I understand. Let me show you, Sam, that I'll be here for you
forever."

What could he show me while standing on the porch dripping
rain into the house?

But then he got down on one knee.

Oh crap. No. Not now. It's too soon.

He pulled something out of his pocket and held it out to me.
"Sam Smith, will you marry me?"

"No."

Drake shook his head as if that would make her answer
differently. Her refusal hung in the space between them, building a wall even
as he stood helplessly by. He'd screwed up, but he'd come back and wanted to
make it right. They belonged together, Didn't she get that?

She frowned. "Drake, I'm focused on one thing right
now: getting our baby back. I can't think of you or our future."

He squeezed her hand and pulled her closer. "Then don't
think. What do you want? Right now?"

She pulled away. "I want Ana back. I want to find out
what happened to my friends, and I want to save Tommy. That's what I want right
now."

Her cold, hard stare made him wonder whether any chance
remained to be together. He pushed the ring box into her hand, but she made no
move to open it. "Just take the ring. Keep it with you as a symbol that
I'm here for good."

She looked at the box, then back at him. "Are you here
for real? Will you help me get Ana back?"

"Yes." He meant it. Nothing would pull him away
from his family again.

She opened the box, and her sharp intake of breath made him
smile. The silver antique-style band dotted with diamonds would look beautiful
on her hand. She didn't need to know where he'd gotten the money to pay for it.

"Thank you." She pulled off a silver necklace and
strung the ring on it, then reattached the clasp. He hated that she didn't wear
it on her finger, but maybe it had been too much to hope that she'd forgive him
so quickly.

The wind blew a fresh wave of cold rain onto the porch, and
they both shivered. Drake looked behind him, then into the house, and noticed
the man standing behind Sam, frowning at him. "May I come in?"

She moved aside and gestured to the hall. "Yes, of course.
I'm sorry, you must be freezing."

"There's one more thing. Wait here." He ran to the
car, fetched Toby, ran back to Sam, and briefly explained how he'd acquired his
wannabe sidekick.

"Toby, introduce yourself."

The kid smiled, offering his hand as he introduced himself,
just as Drake had taught him.

Sam raised an eyebrow, but smiled warmly. "Nice to meet
you. I'm Sam. Come in."

Toby turned to Drake as they walked into the mansion.
"Yo, now I see why you want to marry her. That chick is fine."

***

Sam made Drake a bed on the couch in the game room, while
Bernard found Toby a room with another boy his age. Toby wandered over to a
shelf of video games. Drake thought about the boy and his new roommate, and
could only imagine how two kids from such different worlds would get along.
Still, Toby needed to acclimate, and sharing a room was the best way to do it.

Sam looked from his bags to the couch. "If you're
staying, we'll find something more permanent tomorrow. You'll have to share
with another guy. We don’t have enough rooms yet for people to have their
own."

Ouch
. He'd assumed they'd share her room. Then again,
he really thought she'd be more excited to see him.
I'm such a fool.

"Have you guys had dinner?"

Toby shook his head.

"Let's go to the kitchen, and I'll make something for
you." She led Toby out, leaving Drake to follow if he wanted.

He chose to find Father Patrick instead. He'd never needed
his old mentor more. If anyone could help him figure out how to fix things with
Sam, it was the old priest.

Father Patrick hadn't been sleeping, despite the late hour.
A leather-bound book lay face down on his desk, and his reading glasses perched
on his head. "At my age, you barely sleep at all," he said as he
brought them both a cup of tea. "I missed you, my boy."

"I missed you too. It's good to see you again. How have
things been going?"

They sat at Father Patrick's desk. Hundreds of books lined
the walls of the room, which served more as an office than a bedroom, and made
the twin bed tucked in the corner seem out of place.

The old man sipped a bit of tea and smiled. "Life here
is going well. I've been helping Bernard establish a curriculum for the kids,
and we're looking at options for expanding our quarters, since this place is
getting too cozy for comfort. But let's save the chitchat for later. What's
troubling you?"

"I screwed up royally. I should've never left. Sam's
never going to forgive me, and I've lost everything I ever cared about."

"Don't be too harsh on yourself, boy. We all make
mistakes. That's how we learn. Let's look at this more closely. First of all,
why did you leave?"

Drake blew on his tea and took another sip to give himself a
chance to think. "I thought we were done. We'd been having arguments about
my powers, about mind control specifically. She didn't want to use it on
anyone, not even to protect herself. I disagreed."

"Do you still feel that way?"

The aromatic blend of herbs from the tea filled the air, and
he took a deep breath. "Yes. Like you said, my powers aren't inherently
good or evil. I used them to protect us, and it felt right."

Father Patrick nodded.

Drake waited another moment, hoping for some validation, but
when none came, he continued. "Right before I left, I think Sam would have
agreed with me. She realized mind control could be used for good."

"Then your argument was over. So what drove you
away?"

The truth, the
real
truth.
Could he
admit to his shallowness? "She took my powers, even after everything I'd
done for her."

The priest steepled his fingers, nonplussed by this revelation.
"How did you feel?"

"Angry. I didn't understand why she'd betrayed me, but
now I realize she'd stopped me from making a huge mistake."
From
killing Mary.
"But at the time, I just couldn't see it."

"And so you left, feeling betrayed by the person you
love most of all. It's no easy thing. Did you remain angry after you
left?"

He hadn't thought about that. "No."

"Then why did you not return?"

"I'd lost my powers. Without them, what help could I
be?"

"You were gone awhile. Did you work?"

"A little, at first, but I wasn't much use to
anyone."

Father Patrick chuckled. "I'm no psychologist, but I
believe they call that an inferiority complex."

Inferior? Yes, that's what I felt.

"What changed? What brought you back?"

"I got these." Drake showed Father Patrick two
purple vials, the last ones he had left. "They give me my powers back,
temporarily."

Father Patrick raised an eyebrow. "And how did you
procure this potion?"

Drake didn't want to say. He'd literally made a deal with
the devil. "I acquired them from Sam's father, Mr. Steele." He then
told the priest everything that had happened from the time he'd met Toby until
he'd arrived at Sam's doorstep, including his deal with Steele.

Father Patrick took another drink of tea. "What will
you do next time he calls?"

"I hope to have Ana back by then."

"And if you don't?"

"I will." He didn't have a choice, and couldn't
even consider the other options.

Father Patrick sat in silence for several minutes, rubbing
his chin. "You face both an internal and an external challenge. If Sam
loses the baby, she may never recover. But even if you save Ana, can you, my
boy, accept yourself?"

Drake nodded. "I accept what I did."

"And who you are?"

He clutched the vials tightly. "Yes."

The old cleric finished his tea, and his eyes glazed over in
a faraway look. "When that is true, you'll be together again." He
looked back at Drake, his eyes clearing. "There is greatness in your
future yet. But to achieve your full potential, you have to let go of who you
think you are, and embrace the truth of yourself."