Pranic, Pregnant, and Petrified (The Montgomery Chronicles Book 3) Page 15

“Where is it?”

  “The back wall of the closet,” he said.

  “How did he discover it?”

  “He had a mole inside the castle.”

  “You know who it is,” I said, and it wasn’t a question.

  “I know who it is,” he said, massaging the ball of one foot.

  Did I want to know who the mole was and what Dan had planned for him? I wasn’t sure.

  He was wearing black trousers and a white dress shirt with a very collegial black and red striped tie. He looked like a successful man, prominent in his field. As he looked at me, I amended that description. A handsome and successful man, powerful because of a certain indefinable air about him. You knew he was important.

  He might also be dangerous, a thought I’d never had before. Yet danger was sometimes sexy and he was.

  I knew, sure as God made little green frogs, that I was in deep trouble with Dan Travis.

  “How many days do you think it will take before the lady’s solar is ready?” I asked.

  He concentrated on my other foot. I was trying very hard not to moan.

  “Maybe a week or two.”

  I knew he was lying. He knew I knew he was lying, and he didn’t give a rat’s ass. He just glanced at me in that direct way of his, as if he could bore straight past my reluctance and plant himself in my brain.

  I had to do something, quick. Otherwise, I would be putty in this man’s hands. Just like my feet.

  “What did your mother mean, that your cloaking would disappear if I used my power on you?”

  Something shifted in his eyes. I wouldn’t call it fear, knowing Dan, but it was close. Maybe it was wariness. Seconds later his eyes changed again to a stoic calm that hid everything he was feeling.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I saw you and your mother talking.”

  He didn’t speak, just watched me. I might have been discussing the weather. Or the color of the carpet for all the reaction I got. He was good. When Dan didn’t want to reveal what he was feeling, you had more luck talking to the wall.

  “How?”

  “Let’s just say I saw you.”

  “You have the ability to remote view?”

  The question startled me. So, too, the way Dan had asked it, in a very calm voice, as if remote viewing was all the rage. Maybe it was in his family.

  “I think that’s what it is.”

  I didn’t tell him it was the first time I’d overheard a conversation. Frankly, I would have been just as happy not hearing anything, but I couldn’t forget Janet’s words. I didn’t know what kind of power she was afraid I’d use on Dan or how.

  “What did she mean, uncloaking?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  I’d never known Dan to lie, but he was done it twice now.

  I could describe the scene I’d witnessed and repeat Janet’s words, but I didn’t. I suspected he would deny everything I heard.

  He stood, carefully replacing my feet on the chaise. I curled up, pulling away from him.

  “Are you going to tell her that I can remote view?” I asked.

  I didn’t know how I felt about Janet knowing what I could do. She’d probably wrap herself in some sort of invisibility spell. Or cloak herself.

  “What is it you don’t want me to know?”

  Would he tell me? Or would I have to keep guessing? My vote was for the latter.

  “It doesn’t matter, Marcie.”

  Oh, it did.

  “Is it something you can do? Or something you are?”

  I knew his family tree. I suspected it was something that would have really angered his grandfather. Had he and his mother arranged for a cloaking spell to hide what Dan was?

  “Holy cow,” I said, staring up at him. “You’re a witch, aren’t you?”

  “No, I’m not.”

  His voice was flat, almost expressionless. But not so his eyes. They flashed a warning at me, but I was annoyed enough to ignore it. I’d been asking him for weeks to reveal himself and I knew I was close to finding out exactly who and what Dan was.

  “Did your grandmother know?”

  The question surprised him, I could tell. He just frowned at me.

  “Why would you ask that?”

  “You were close to her, weren’t you?”

  “Yes.” His voice was still flat, but there was a different look in his eyes now. A softening as if he remembered his grandmother.

  “Did she know what you were?”

  “Yes.”

  That was more information than he’d ever shared. I wonder if he knew how much of a revelation it was. He’d just admitted that he wasn’t a hundred percent human. He was something else.

  I pressed my hand against my waist. Holy cow, part two, was he the father of my baby? If he was, exactly what kind of child was I going to have?

  “Are you an animal hybrid?” I asked, envisioning scales and a forked tongue.

  “What?”

  A frowning Dan was very intimidating. I, however, was pushed by a biological imperative to discover as much as I could. Dan, pissed versus me, maternal? It wasn’t even a fair race. I would scamper to the finish line.

  “Are you part animal?”

  “No.”

  “You promise?” I said.

  “Yes, I promise.”

  “You’re not a zombie, are you?”

  “What is it with you and zombies? No, I’m not a damn zombie.”

  His frown had turned into a scowl. Even angry he was handsome. Was that part of the cloaking process? Was he rendered handsome because of a spell?

  “Do you look the same?”

  “What?”

  He was losing his temper. I had to hurry up and ask what I needed to know before he stomped out of the room. It was a good thing the chaise was so comfy; I might be sleeping here tonight.

  “If you took away the cloaking spell, would you look the same?”

  If I wasn’t imagining things, there was a glimmer of humor in his eyes.

  “You’re not going to stop, are you?”

  Frankly, I wish I’d never eavesdropped on Dan and his mother. Not that I’d had a choice. I was trying to find my things. I knew Janet had taken them, I just didn’t know why. For some kind of spell, I guessed, but I wasn’t sure. Maybe she didn’t want my stuff for a witchy reason. Maybe she was just trying to be annoying or wanted to piss me off.

  Good news, Janet, it worked.

  “No,” I said. “I’m not. Do you look the same without your cloaking spell?”

  “Yes, I look the same,” he said. “Does that bother you?”

  Hell no.

  I only shook my head, however, deciding that a little maidenly reticence was called for.

  He stared at me for the longest time and I swear he did something to my mind. I couldn’t think of another question to ask him.

  “Have you eaten?” he asked.

  When I glanced at the tray, he smiled. “Not cheesecake. Dinner.”

  I shook my head.

  He bent and grabbed my sneakers, handing them to me.

  “Come on, I’ll show you one of my favorite places in the castle.”

  Once I put on my shoes, he grabbed my hand and we left his rooms. Instead of taking the elevator to the lower floors, we walked down the corridor, turned left at the corner and continued walking until we came to a door. He opened it, revealing a set of steep steps.

  "If you don't mind," he said, "I'll go first. The light switch is hard to find."

  Were we going to the attic?

  I’ve never considered myself very adventurous. Of course, that was in the pre-vampire days. I have subsequently done a lot of things I’d never considered doing. But the last week or so, I’ve confined myself to only a few places in the castle. Nor have I ventured out of it. Yet Arthur's Folly was so large it was like a self-contained town. I wasn't suffering from cabin fever yet, although I'm sure that I would if I had to remain here during a siege.

  I ho
pe to God Dan was wrong about that.

  If we couldn't come to some kind of agreement with the Brethren and the OTHER, we might have to hunker down and prepare for the worst.

  All thoughts of a siege disappeared as I followed him up the stairs, grateful I was wearing sneakers. If I’d been wearing FM heels, there’s no way I could have climbed up on the roof.

  Oh, dear God, was he suddenly going to take off like an eagle?

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Up On The Roof

  I expected something fantastic when Dan opened another door. The courtyard had been spectacular, leading me to think that whatever was on the roof was a match.

  Instead, he led me to a very unassuming area surrounded by potted hedges on three sides. The fourth side was open to the horizon, a wrought iron railing the only barrier keeping you from toppling over the edge of the roof.

  We walked through an opening in the hedges to where two chairs sat side-by-side with a small table in between. They reminded me of Adirondack chairs, only these were made of fabric and steel, padded at the shoulders and the seat. I sat on the one to the left while Dan sat to my right, pulled out his phone, and issued instructions to the kitchen.

  The black sky was pressing down on the ribbon of indigo on the horizon. Soon it would be gone and the night would swallow us. For the first time since I visited Maddock’s house, I wasn’t frightened. I knew the drones were around us even though I couldn’t see them. I also knew that there were other devices planted in strategic positions to pick up signs of vampires.

  Was I making them go bananas? Or had the tech geniuses at Arthur’s Folly made allowances for my presence? Did I give off a different signature from most vampires? Since I’d become pregnant had that signature changed?

  Dan leaned forward, draped his hands together between his knees.

  “I’ve never brought anyone here,” he said. “I normally come up here by myself. It’s a good place to sit and watch the world.”

  I didn’t have an answer for that. I’d chosen to hide from the world lately. It was safer. As to my being the first person he’d brought here, I was not going to read too much into that. I was trying to guard my heart, my moods, and my hormones, thanks very much.

  It was a lovely place. You could almost forget you were on top of a large structure. You could almost imagine you were alone, except for the faint sounds of conversation and music from the courtyard. From here you could see the lights of San Antonio far off in the distance. If you looked to the left, you could see the foothills of the Texas Hill Country. Behind us was the lake, lit by lights that looked like fireflies from here. Hell, maybe they were fireflies, or elves with tiny little lanterns strapped to their backs.

  Maybe it would be too hot up here in the summer, but tomorrow was Thanksgiving, which meant that the days were in the sixties and the nights in the forties. Still, it was pleasant, with the hedges shielding us from the wind. There must be some method of heating the space, because I didn’t feel cold. Or maybe it was just being around Dan. I almost never felt cold around him.

  He glanced at me. “My mother thinks you’re the most powerful witch she’s ever met. Did you hear that part of our conversation?”

  “It was the first time I’d ever done that. I was looking for something. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop.”

  I didn’t want to touch the other part of his comment yet. Evidently, he figured that out because he nodded once, a Dan gesture I instinctively understood. He was giving me a few minutes, but probably no more than that.

  “What were you looking for?”

  It was one thing to not like Janet. It was another to tell Dan that his mother was a thief. Discretion being the better part of valor, I chose to soft pedal the truth.

  “Something I’d misplaced,” I said. “Before I knew it, I was eavesdropping.”

  He didn’t say anything for a moment.

  When he did speak, there was a tone in his voice I couldn’t decipher.

  “You’ve never done it before?”

  “No,” I said, then had to amend my answer. “Okay, maybe once, but it wasn’t anything like that. I didn’t see anyone. I didn’t overhear anybody. I had this impression that I was floating on a river. I was trying to get away from the witches the first time they came to my room.”

  “The first time?”

  I nodded.

  “How many times have they been there?”

  “Twice. They only did the hologram thingy once, though. That’s their version of a remote viewing, isn’t it?”

  “Nothing like yours,” he said, leaning back against the chair.

  He stared out at the horizon, rapidly disappearing beneath the inky sky. The lights from San Antonio looked like the blinking eyes of a band of coyotes.

  Tonight was a moonless night. Once, I used to track whether it was going to be a full moon since a great many commercial accidents seemed to happen in the two days before and after a full moon. I never could find any actuarial tables to verify that. Evidently, the higher accident rate was only anecdotal.

  Now the full moon interested me because of werewolves and other shape shifters. I didn’t want to be parading around in the dark because of Maddock and his buddies, but even if there were no vampires, I sure as hell wasn’t going walking in a full moon.

  I was sincerely trying to avoid thinking about what Dan said, but finally there was no delaying it. He didn't push, even though I felt that he was thinking it. I wasn't being “sensitive". Nor did I think I had any kind of ESP. It's just that he hadn't said anything else and sometimes, Dan’s silences were very pregnant, if you’ll pardon the pun.

  "I'm not a witch," I finally said. "And certainly not a strong which, no matter what your mother says."

  "My mother is renowned for her ability to detect witch traits," he said. She is a deputy director of the State Council. She's a very powerful witch. If she says you are one," he said, turning to look at me directly, "then I suspect she's right."

  I folded my arms in front of me, not because I was suddenly cold, but because I wanted to protect myself. Not only against his words – how did I protect against those? – but against the sudden feeling I had that he might be correct. What if my Pranic abilities were a result of my maternal line? I had never given it any thought before, but surely the vampire part of me must be offset by my family’s witch heritage.

  My mother wasn't a witch, but the abilities could have skipped a generation.

  "What does my grandmother think?"

  His gaze hadn’t moved from my face. Tiny lights beneath the hedges provided enough illumination that we could see each other. Shadows encircled the space, but they weren't spooky or frightening. Instead, they were strangely comforting, as if they pillowed the air around us.

  "She has come to the conclusion that my mother is right."

  "Say I agree," I said. "Say I agree, in principle. It doesn't change anything. If anything, it complicates the situation even further."

  "No," he said. "It makes the situation easier. The witches will come to your defense because you're one of them."

  I hadn't thought of that. "I don't agree with what you say, but I'll defend to the death your right to say it, that sort of thing?"

  He shook his head. "No, the sort of thing that says a witch bloodline has to be protected. You're a witch. Therefore, you’re an ally. The same goes for you, though. You must protect your fellow witches."

  I don't care what Dan said, the situation was getting more complicated the way I looked at it.

  "Even though I'm a vampire?"

  "You’re a witch, first and foremost."

  "I don't feel like a witch, however that’s supposed to feel. I don't know any spells. I don't want to affect any of the elements. I just want to be safe."

  "You will be. If it's within my power to create a haven for you, Marcie, I will."

  "Why me? From the very beginning, you've been my protector. Why?"

  "Do you believe in destiny?"

  "No. Empha
tically no."

  His smile annoyed me for some reason.

  "When I was ten, Nonnie invited the minister to Sunday dinner. He tried to explain predestination for me. The idea that my life was charted for me before I was ever born was horrifying. He told me I had the ability to change my life within certain parameters. In other words, I could like oranges or bananas, but I must like fruit. I didn't believe that then, and I don't believe in destiny now."

  "They're not the same thing," he said. "You can avoid destiny. You can sail right on by it. You don't have to answer the door when it knocks. You can avoid all signs that lead to where it's trying to point you."

  I was prevented from answering by the appearance of a castle employee pushing a cart.

  Dinner turned out to be surf and turf, a filet mignon with a lobster tail accompanied by broccoli with hollandaise sauce. I passed on the wine and requested herbal tea instead. That got me raised eyebrows from Dan, but almost instant service from our waiter. I did eat the cheesecake with the cherry topping, though. It would take a grievous bodily injury for me to avoid cheesecake.

  When dinner was over, I expected him to start where we’d finished, but he didn’t say anything about my being a witch. Instead, Dan sat back, looked up at the sky and the thousands or millions of stars creating a canopy over our heads.

  “When I was five years old, I knew I was different,” he said. “I couldn’t tell you why, I just knew it. I also knew that it was very important to keep that knowledge to myself. If I hadn’t had a mother who was a powerful witch, I wonder how long it would have taken me to understand what I was.”

  I didn't speak. I didn't say a word, for fear that he would stop talking. My questions about Dan were about to be answered, and I could barely draw breath. All of my attention was on him. I hoped that, whatever he said, whatever he revealed, I wouldn't be too shocked.

  Dear God in heaven, what would I do if he was some kind of crocodile mutation? Or something that turned into a slug on the first and the fifteenth of the month? Maybe he became invisible. I could live with that. At least my child wouldn't have feathers or fins.

  I would love him regardless, but it would be nice to know before the day he was born. I could just imagine the doctor holding up my child, putting him on my stomach and saying, “Congratulations, you have a bouncing baby boy fish!”