Seduced by Innocencey(5)

When she closed the door behind her, my dad held out his arms to, and I accepted his hug, then pulled back. "I'm not staying. I'm just here to help with Dean until he's better."

My dad's smile faded. Seemed I was on a roll at tearing the hope from everyone tonight. "I know you don't want to be here, but I'm glad you came. Tammy needs you now most of all. This has hit her the hardest."

"She seemed okay to me." A lie. She had only seemed okay on the surface, but I could tell she carried a lot of pain and rage in her eyes.

"You know your sister. She doesn't want anyone thinking she's weak." He walked to the leather loveseat in the corner and sat down, gesturing for me to join him. I sat across from him in the matching chair.

People always said we looked alike. My father's dark hair had turned salt and pepper, but I'd seen pictures of him when he was my age, and I supposed I could see the resemblance. We were both tall, with a lean build, dark hair and unusual eyes. But where I was most comfortable in jeans and a leather jacket, my dad enjoyed fine tailored suits, even when working from home, like now.

Around us, books covered the walls from floor to ceiling, and my fingers itched to pick one from a shelf and start reading. I'd spent a lot of time in this room as a child growing up, and it brought back memories. For the last two years, I'd had to keep my library on an e-reader, and I missed the feel of actual paper between my fingers as I read.

On one wall, a fire burned bright, crackling as it consumed the wood and filling the room with the smell and memories of campfires.

Dad noticed my focus and smiled a real smile. "You know you're welcome in here anytime. These books are for everyone, not just me."

I nodded without committing to anything. It would be too easy to get sucked into this life again, and I wasn't willing to give up my freedom. "What can I do to help with Dean?"

"Before we talk about Dean, I'd like to hear about your adventures. What have you been doing? You haven't used any of your trust fund, so I'm curious about how you've been supporting yourself."

"I've just been traveling. You know, seeing the country. I make do." I didn't want to talk about this right now; I just wanted to see my brother.

"You know, Son, if you just come home, there's a place for you here. A place for you at Rose Botanicals. You don't have to work in my office if you don't want to. We could find you a place that suited your… temperament."

I stood, angry that he'd use this time to once again push me into his mold. "I'm going to see Dean. I don't want to have this conversation again, Dad. I can't be who you want me to be. Not now. Not ever. Just let it go."

His disappointed sigh followed me out the door and up the stairs to Dean's room, where I assumed he'd be. When I walked in, Tammy looked up at me with unshed tears still full in her eyes. When I saw Dean, the tears flooded my eyes as well.

"What the hell happened to him?"





THREE





Seek a Foe





ROSE





Thou shalt not stir one foot to seek a foe.

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet





Dear Diary,



I dreamed of him again, the man who haunts me at night. But the dream is changing. Before, all I felt was longing and unfulfilled desire. This time, I could touch him, feel him, taste him. It happened in a flash, as dreams often do, and carried with it the scent of magic, but for that moment, I was normal. My touch no longer brought death, only pleasure.



And for that moment, I was happy.



TEARS FELL FROM my eyes and bile rose in my throat. I pushed out of bed and ran to the bathroom to empty the contents of my stomach in the toilet rather than my bedroom. I'd never used that much of my power before, not since… Not since I was six and Donna Smuckers said I was a devil worshipper. I hadn't meant to hurt her, hadn't meant to wipe the light from her eyes like that. I didn't even know I could.

The unwelcome memory played side-by-side with last night's horrors. Two lives lost because of what I was. Did it matter that last night was in defense of Mother? That the wolf would likely have killed her, and probably me? It seemed like that little fact should have weighed heavier, like it should have given a moral rightness to my soul. But nothing could erase my guilt.

With shaky legs I walked back into my living room. Ocean, my best friend, stood in the kitchen with a pot of tea, while Jasmine, my little sister, flipped through pages of a book on my coffee table. They both looked up at me as I sank into my favorite overstuffed chair and propped my feet up on the matching red ottoman. Sandy whined and put her head in my lap. I stroked her soft ears and murmured platitudes I hoped would give her some calm after last night's scare.

No one spoke, and I raised my eyebrow. "Well? What happened after I passed out?"