The Holders (22 page)

“I need to have a word with you,” he stated with no inflection whatsoever.

His words might not have given much away, but his expression told me one thing for sure…

I was in trouble.

 

23

 

If I’d been intimidated by Jocelyn, or even respected him enough to put any value on his good opinion, I might have been concerned. But as it stood, I wasn’t. Whatever his problem was, I knew I hadn’t done anything, and that this would turn out to be a mistake. Hell, I hadn’t even been alone today, there was no way I’d done whatever he thought I had. Sure, I was planning to skip Gaelic class the next day, but it wasn’t like it had actually happened yet, and unless he’d read my mind there was no way he could have known about it. And if he had read my mind, no matter what he’d seen, he was the one in the wrong, so either way I was good. Besides, if I came to find out that he’d read my mind, the conversation wouldn’t get all that far anyway, because I’d be kicking his ass.

I followed him down to his office, not sure where this was all leading. Once the office door was closed behind us he stalked up to the front of the room next to his desk where he spun to face me, looking in no way pleased.

“It appears we need to have a discussion regarding your place here, and what it does and does not entail. You may have arrived under the pretense that you were here to look after Ryland and wouldn’t be staying. However, things have changed, and since you will be staying, there are some ground rules that need to be set.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You are here to learn and to train.”

“Yeah, OK…?”

“You will be a valuable asset to our organization and our cause, and the last thing you need is distraction.”

“What?” I asked, beyond confused.

“You are not the type of person who needs to be… involved with anyone.”

“Invol–” the word strangled in my throat as I realized what he was talking about. Immediately my mind went to the only other person who knew about Alex and me. “Did Min talk to you?” I asked, already plotting her demise.

“Min? No, Min has nothing to do with this.” He clasped his hands behind his back and squared his shoulders, trying to appear as stern as possible. “You may not be aware of it, but my apartments are directly above this office and connected to the covered balcony on the east wall.”

“You… you were watching us?” I half shrieked, both mortified and furious.

“No, I was not watching you, but yes, I did see you, and I want to make it very clear that nothing like that will ever happen again.”

“Excuse me?” I whispered, barely comprehending what I was hearing. “Are you out of your mind?”

“I am very serious. A relationship like that won’t end well for either of you, and that sort of distraction is the last thing you need right now. Your focus is to be on your training and the learning of our ways, and absolutely not on dating. Are we clear?”

“And I suppose the nature of our involvement is irrelevant to you? Even if I told you Alex had bonded to me?” And me to him, though I withheld that particular nugget.

“Impossible,” he dismissed, and even had the blood curdling audacity to roll his eyes slightly, as though I was nothing more than a silly girl with a starry-eyed dream. “You’re a Holder. It doesn’t work that way. You will get your head out of the clouds and do what needs to be done, before any of this gets worse.”

I felt my neck grow hot and my face flush as I looked at his aloof stance and stony expression. He expected me to just toss love aside, like it meant nothing. To throw it all away and focus on myself, not caring who I hurt in the process.

To be like him.

“So, let me get this straight,” I said, trying to unclench my teeth. “I’m not allowed to be with Alex?”

“Alex has nothing to do with this, you have no business being with anyone, not with the way things have turned out regarding your ability. Alex is a good man, and I expect you to handle the situation like an adult and give him the respect of a courteous explanation, and then focus your attentions where they need to be.”

In that moment, something in me snapped. “The respect of a courteous explanation? The respect of a courteous explanation?” I growled through my teeth. “What should I do? Should I send him a letter? Is that the adult thing to do?” He went rigid but didn’t respond, his lips pressing back into their hard line. “You’re the expert on ruining lives after all.” I smiled cynically. “By all means, tell me what to do. Should I marry him first, would that be better? Start a family with him, then dump him flat? Make sure he really hates me?”

“How your mother feels about me has nothing to do with this.”

“How she feels about you? If only!” I was shaking, I was so furious. “I wish she hated you! Dear God, you have no idea! But she never will. You dug your claws into her so deep that she’ll go to her grave defending you, instead of finally realizing what a selfish coward you really are.”

“There is nothing more I could have done to make it any easier on her!” he yelled.

“You have got to be kidding me! This, from the man who can literally alter memories and erase minds? You could have done anything you wanted! You could have made her forget all about you! You could have made her think she was the one who left you! Hell, even making her think you had died would have been better than a flat out rejection! You could have made it as easy on her as you wanted it to be, but you didn’t! And don’t give me any of that crap about not believing in interfering with people’s minds, because you know damn well that there is nothing you could have done to her mind that would be any worse than what you actually did.”

His expression hadn’t faltered once since I started, nor had he attempted to speak. He just stood there rock hard, his cool impassiveness only fueling my fire.

“And now,” I fumed, “you dare tell me who I can and can’t be with? Who I can and can’t love? You, who knows absolutely nothing about me? Expecting me to throw Alex aside so that I can focus on my own interests? I don’t know what’s worse; the fact that I have someone like you for a father, or the fact that you actually think I’m like you!” I finished, disgust heavy in my voice. I turned my back on him, stomping to the door, yanking it open.

“We’re not done here.” Jocelyn’s voice as cold as steel came from behind me.

I glared over my shoulder at him as I yanked the door open. “On the contrary, professor, you and I are more than done,” I spat, slamming the door behind me.

 

A few minutes later I was leaning up against the outside garden wall, arms crossed over my chest, still seething. The hot air streaming in and out of my flared nostrils turned to fog the moment it hit the chilly air making me look like an angry bull from a Saturday morning cartoon. I wanted to throw something, to scream, to jump up and down. Yet all I could seem to do was rigidly hold up the wall, hissing and cursing under my breath.

For ten years I’d dreamt of telling Jocelyn off. Of letting him know exactly what I thought of him, in as colorful a choice of language as I knew. Now that it was over, I waited for the endorphin rush of success. For the jump up and down, punching your fists in the air, take on the world victory dance, complete with Rocky-style theme music playing in the background. But thus far, all I had were throbbing temples, cold toes, a sore jaw from clenching my teeth, and the sound track of a bird cawing, that may or may not have been choking on something.

Not exactly what I’d imagined.

“It’s cold out here,” came the voice of someone I’d felt before I’d heard. “You should have a coat on,” Alex said, eyeing my thin shirt and bare arms.

“I’m fine,” I said, as he came up beside me. “My internal temperature is more than making up the difference.”

“What happened?”

I huffed and pushed away from the wall, running my hands angrily through my hair which was now damp with fog. “Jocelyn and I…”

“I know,” he said, when I didn’t finish. “I actually overheard the tail end of it.”

“You did?”

“Yeah, sorry. Cormac too. We were on our way to Jocelyn’s office, and well,” he gave me a sympathetic smile, “your voice carries. But don’t worry, Cormac would never say anything. What I meant was, what started it?”

“What started it? Oh, nothing much, just Jocelyn basically forbidding me from being with you.”

“What?”

“Yep. But don’t worry, it’s not you. I’m not allowed to be with anyone.”

“He said that?”

“In no uncertain terms.” I scowled down at the gravel pathway. “Who the hell does he think he is? What on earth makes him think he has a say in my love life?” I started kicking at the rocks, as my rage reared up again, clawing at my chest. “All of a sudden I’m a Holder, so now he owns me? The hell he does! He probably doesn’t even remember when my birthday is, yet he thinks he can play ‘father figure’? Fat damn chance! Any right he had to be the guy sitting on the front porch with a shotgun waiting for me to come home from a date was forfeited over ten years ago!”

“Were you all farmers in Kansas at some point?” Alex asked, suppressing a smile.

Suddenly I was actually picturing Jocelyn in overalls and a straw hat, sitting on a wooden rocker with a double barrel in his lap, and I started to smirk. I knew that was the point of his comment, but it still pissed me off. “I’m trying to be mad over here!” I snapped at him, still smiling in spite of myself.

“I’m sorry,” he said gravely, putting on his serious face. “Go ahead.”

But it was over. He’d effectively killed my tirade. I let my head hang down, blowing out the rest of my tension with a heavy sigh, glaring at him out of the corner of my eye.

“You did that on purpose.”

“Maybe.”

“Jerk!” I grinned, shivering.

He smiled, slipping his jacket off and wrapping it around me. “Anytime, leannán,” he said stepping up behind me, hugging me against his chest.

“What?”

“Leannán,” he repeated. “It’s an endearment, like sweetheart or darling. Speaking of which, I hear you’re in Gaelic class.”

“Yeah, not for long,” I grumbled.

“Becca…” he chided.

“It’s so boring,” I whined. “I got the text and the workbook, I’ll just teach myself.”

“No, you won’t,” he laughed, shaking his head.

“Excuse me!” I looked over my shoulder at him indignantly. “I happen to have graduated high school at fifteen, with a 5.0, and an ACT score of 31! I can most certainly teach myself a language!”

He continued to smile at me, amused. “I didn’t say you can’t, I said you won’t. There’s a difference.”

OK, he was probably right, but I wasn’t about to admit it. I changed topics. “Why do I even need it? You speak Gaelic, not to mention the oh-so-wonderful Professor Ingle,” I sassed, using a bit more sarcasm than was really called for. “Can’t one of you just tell me what stuff says?”

“What if we’re not with you?”

“I’ll call.” I pouted, knowing I was going to lose this.

He sighed and leaned his head down so his mouth was next to my ear. “Mo shaol anois tá brí toisc go bhfuil tú i sé, a ghrá mo chroí,” he murmured in a low, throaty voice, sending chills fluttering under my skin.

“Should I even bother asking?” I said, knowing he was probably making a point and wasn’t planning on translating.

“Keep going to class, and you won’t have to.”

I leaned my head back to rest on his shoulder. “Somehow, I’m thinking whatever that was isn’t going to be covered.”

“Don’t go, and you’ll never find out.” I could hear the grin in his tone.

We stood quietly for a minute, when something I’d been wondering about for a long time suddenly came to mind.

“Why don’t you stick up for him?” I asked, a bit out of the blue. “You never do.”

“What?”

“Jocelyn. I am constantly whining and complaining about him, and you have never once tried to defend him.”

“You want me to defend him?” he asked as though I’d lost my mind.

“No, I’ve just always wondered. I know much you respect him. How much you look up to him. I’ve always known, and I understand. After what he did for you, you have every reason to think he’s great, yet for all the times you’ve had to listen to me badmouth him, you’ve never, I don’t know, come to his aid. I’m always waiting for it, but it never happens.” The way it was turning out, the fact that Jocelyn had been responsible for saving Alex from the mental hospital and bringing him into this world – and by extension, to me – seemed like it might end up being his singular saving grace in my eyes.

“First of all,” he said, spinning me around in his arms to face him, “you have never badmouthed him. You’ve told me things that have happened, and how you personally feel. You don’t run to anyone who will listen and slander him, you’re far too good a person for that. You’ve even allowed Ryland to draw his own conclusions, never influencing or leading him with your own opinions. And yes, I do respect Jocelyn. More than any other man I’ve ever met, but that doesn’t mean he’s perfect. I don’t know what happened with your family all those years ago, and I am in no position to defend him. And I certainly won’t defend his not wanting us together, but I’m not too concerned about that. We’ll have Min talk to him, and it will all work out, I’m sure.”

“If you say so,” I sighed.

“I do,” he said giving me a peck on the nose. “Not to change the subject,” he continued a bit reluctantly, “but can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“Earlier, when you said ‘Professor Ingle’… you did mean Jocelyn, yes?”

“Of course, who else?” He didn’t answer, but something in his eyes made me wary. “Why do you ask?”

“Well…” He was obviously uncomfortable. “I wasn’t sure, because Jocelyn’s name – as far as I have ever known – is Clavish.”

“What? No… no, that’s not right. His name is Ingle… we are all Ingle.”

He shrugged with a wince. “I assumed your mother had taken her maiden name or something like that.”

“So,” I backed away from him, pressing my fingers to my temples, “he actually changed his name? Why the hell would he do that?” When Alex’s lip twitched, I could see there was something else. “What? What is it? Tell me!” I knew I shouldn’t be yelling at him, but I couldn’t help it.