Wanted by the Alphas(18)
Jared steps forward. “No, we’re really interested in this. At least, my sister is.” He flashes a shrewd look at Shannon, who scowls at him. “Please . . . why are people in this town not fond of the Walkers?”
Ellie looks all around them. There is nothing around them but the house – which is a small cottage covered with vines and large, trembling leaves – as well as the backdrop of the hills leading to the forest. They have no neighbors for at least half a mile down the road.
“OK. But you mustn’t tell anyone you heard it from me.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Jared murmurs sarcastically.
Ellie doesn’t seem to notice his sarcasm.
“The Walker family hails from New England. They are a very old clan, dating back several centuries. They don’t make their history known, but it’s in all the annals in the library if you want to look back. Magda Walker, Julien Walker, Roderick Walker, Cassandra Walker, Phineas Walker. They all share one thing in common.”
Shannon feels a trickle of coolness despite the fair weather.
“What?” she asks.
“They were all burned at the stake for practicing witchcraft.”
Shannon’s mind fleets back to the hanging witch. Hanging. Not burning, or the maze would be a crisp. Now she understands the message for Lucien, if indeed it was intended for Lucien.
Witch! You deserved to be hanged!
She remembers the change of color which had come into Lucien’s eyes when he bested Jared at arm-wrestling. It is very likely the witch genes were passed on.
But it still doesn’t mean Lucien is a witch.
Jared begins to laugh.
Ellie says crossly, “There, I knew you folks from out of town would react in that manner. That’s why we choose to keep our secrets close.”
“No, no, you misunderstand me,” Jared says. “My sister and I are completely attuned to superstition and folklore. If you say the Walker family hails from witches, then we completely believe you. After all, we are extremely superstitious ourselves, aren’t we, sis?”
He winks. He is taking all this a little too lightly, she thinks.
Shannon clears her throat. I am not going to have anything to do with Lucien Walker anymore, so what does it matter?
“We would like to see the house, please,” she says.
“Of course,” Ellie says, glad for the change of subject.
The bungalow is small, with only two bedrooms and a bathroom. As Ellie mentioned, cleaning this place would not be an encumbrance. It is fully furnished with minimal, tasteful furniture – all old, all inexpensive, as if the owner does not intend to lavish a huge sum on tenants who might possibly tear down the place.
The rent is within their budget as well. God knows they have the money to afford something better, but it is better to be prudent for now.
“We’ll take it,” Jared says.
Shannon knows why he circled this property above all from the Dolphin Bay’s classifieds. The ad had boasted ‘natural forest tapestry behind the property’.
“Great,” Ellie says happily.
“When are you due?” Shannon says.
“Next month.” The realtor’s cheeks dimple and she rubs her tummy with one ringed hand. “This is my fifth, would you believe?”
“That’s amazing.” Shannon is not ready for children right now, but she imagines that someday she would love to have a child with a man who would love her forever. “Are there usually such large families here?”
“We Fitzpatricks tend to have large ones. I come from a family of seven myself. I am the second oldest, and my sisters are all married with broods of four or five themselves. We haven’t stopped yet.” She chuckles.
Jared has begun to unload their baggage from the trunk.
“Hey, you wanna give me a hand instead of gabbing in there with the realtor?” he calls.
“There are papers to sign and checks to be made in case you don’t know how this works, Jared!” she calls back.
“Then I’ll let you take care of all that stuff while I break open a can of beer!”
Ellie smiles. She produces a large brown envelope full of documents. “Let’s get the paperwork out of the way. It’s always unpleasant, I know, but necessary. Do you and your brother intend to find jobs here?”
“I know I do,” Shannon says. “I don’t know about him.”
She rolls her eyes and the older woman laughs as they adjourn to the kitchen with its dining table. They seat themselves there. Ellie takes out the documents for her to sign and explains the terms and conditions of each one.
“So what’s your line of work?” the agent asks.
“I have a degree in Physiotherapy and I would like to work with patients.”