Read the book: «Daughter of the Spellcaster», page 4

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“Lena?”

His voice was soft and close, and as she let it swirl around inside her head it melded with the dream, so that she thought they were back there, in the past, still dating. And that nothing in between the day she’d left him and now had ever happened.

And then she realized she had fallen asleep and dreamed all that.

“We’re here,” he said.

She opened her eyes, blinking things into focus and looking out the window at the familiar shape of his father’s Westchester mansion. And then she frowned. “I thought you were taking me back to my hotel?”

“I am. But, uh—even if you want to skip the socializing, there’s the meeting first. I thought you knew.”

“Meeting…?”

“Dad’s attorneys. The will. You’re named in it.”

“Oh.” She blinked softly. “I didn’t know. That Ernst was going to do that, I mean. It’s not something I was looking for. I don’t need—”

“Did he know?” Ryan asked. “About the baby?” She met his eyes, saw the hurt in them at the thought that his father would have kept something like this from him. A hurt he’d once worked very hard to convince her he was incapable of feeling. “I honestly don’t know, Ryan. We haven’t been in touch since I left. But…”

“But?” he prompted when she trailed off.

“Bahru knew,” she admitted. She felt as if she was tattling. “He knew before I left.”

“Bastard could’ve told me.”

She shrugged. “He might have assumed, like I did, that it wouldn’t have mattered.”

He slapped his palms on the steering wheel, not violently, but in frustration. “Why the hell would you assume that?”

She frowned at him. “How can you ask me that? Do you really not remember the last conversation we had, Ryan?”

He looked as puzzled as if she’d lapsed into ancient Babylonian.

She rolled her eyes, sighed deeply. “It doesn’t matter anyway,” she said. “Bahru did mention that I would have to be present when the will was read, but he didn’t say when. So you’re saying it’s now?”

“Yeah.” He looked at his watch. “Right now. In Dad’s den.” He looked toward the house, the people wandering in and out. Then he popped the clutch and drove the car around to the back.

The wide stone deck was devoid of furniture. The umbrella tables had been put away for the winter, and the pool was sealed tight. Even so, the back of the house had a much more relaxed feel to it than the front.

“Come on, we’ll miss the crowds this way.”

Lena got out. She was feeling pretty pissed that he hadn’t yet figured out why she had left him, much less apologized for it. Or, God forbid, taken it back. But what the hell? It was water under the bridge. They had tried. And they had failed. She would never regret it. And maybe the whole thing—the vision, the fantasy, his resemblance to her prince—maybe all that hadn’t happened to fulfill their star-crossed love affair from the long-ago past lives she was convinced they’d had. Resolving that, might never have been the reason. Maybe it was all about the baby. She’d found him, been drawn to him, and he’d given her a baby. Perhaps that was the purpose all along.

He came to her side quickly, his hand on her elbow irritating her for no good reason. She jerked it away from him before she could stop herself.

“What?” he asked.

“I’m pregnant, Ryan. Not injured or weak or fragile. I’ve been waddling around just fine without you holding on to me for months now. I think I can make it to the back door without help.”

“Oh.”

He stood where he was while she headed up the three broad stone steps onto the deck and across it to the French doors. And then she paused, because she wasn’t sure whether to knock or wait or what the hell to do.

He came up beside her and reached past her to open the doors, and they headed inside. The French doors led directly into the den, which had been Ernst’s favorite room in the house. And no wonder. From it you could see the entire back lawn and the gardens, and you could walk straight out to the deck and then to the pool off the far end of it, any time you felt like a break. It was a perfect place to work.

Bahru was sitting cross-legged on the floor, eyes closed, holding on to that quartz pendant around his neck. Another man sat at Ernst McNally’s big desk, shuffling papers. They were the only people in the room.

Must be a small will.

“Ahh, Ryan, good. And you must be Lena,” said the man behind the desk, getting to his feet and coming around with a hand extended. “Ernst spoke very highly of you.”

“Thank you, that means a lot to me, Mr.…?”

“Aaron Samuels,” he said. “Please, have a seat.”

She nodded and headed for the two chairs that were situated in front of the desk. Bahru was sitting just past them. As she drew closer he opened his eyes, and they flashed red as they met hers. She sucked in a breath and stumbled backwards, crashing into Ryan’s chest. His arms came around her fast.

“Hey, I thought you said you could walk without help, sunshine?”

Turning her head, she looked up into his eyes. Her heart was pounding, and she opened her mouth but didn’t know what to say.

“What is it, Lena?” he asked.

“I—” She looked at Bahru again. No glowing red eyes. He was getting to his feet and smiling as warmly as ever. So she glanced back at the French doors to see the bright orange of the sunset beaming in through them and sighed. “Nothing, I’m fine.” And jumpy, she thought. “Good to meet you, Mr. Samuels. Hello again, Bahru.”

He pressed his hands together and bowed slightly over them.

She let Ryan keep hold of her and seat her in the first chair, and then he took the other chair—the one she’d been heading for, the one that was closer to Bahru—himself.

“I know this has been a miserable day for all of us,” the lawyer said. “So I’m not going to spend a lot of time on the minutiae.”

Lena glanced at Ryan as the man went on, and they shared an unspoken “Who the hell says minutiae?” moment. He even smiled a little.

The lawyer was still going on. “… right to the gist of it, which is really simple enough.”

“Ryan, you of course inherit the bulk of the estate. The holdings, the money, the mansion, the fleet of cars, both jets, the businesses—”

“I was afraid of that.” Ryan sighed and leaned forward a little, as if something very heavy had just landed on his shoulders.

Lena reached out and slid her hand over his, then tried to take back the intimacy of the move by patting it instead of holding it. “You can sell it all. You can let the board run it. It doesn’t have to be a burden to you, Ryan,” she whispered.

He nodded.

“As for you, Magdalena,” the lawyer went on, “Ernst was very specific. First off, the deed to your home has been marked ‘paid in full.’“

She blinked. “What? But I don’t—”

“The vineyard belonged to Ernst, Magdalena,” Bahru said softly. “He was afraid you wouldn’t want it if you knew. He’d bought it long ago, hoping to retire there one day with his beautiful Sarah. They had such plans for the place—but then she died and…”

“That’s the vineyard where you’ve been living?” Ryan burst out.

“I bought that vineyard from Ernst?” she shouted at the same moment.

Samuels held up both hands. “One of his holding companies, to be specific, but yes, that’s what it comes down to.”

“But I wanted to do this on my own.”

“Dad didn’t like to let anyone he cared about do anything on their own,” Ryan said. “Trust me, Lena, I totally get your indignation.” He tugged her arm until she looked at him. “But hey, it doesn’t have to be a burden on you,” he said, repeating her own words back to her. “You can always sell it.”

“That’s not the point.”

“I know.”

All right, all right, she knew what he was saying. Her homilies about him being able to sell his father’s empire, about not letting it be a burden, were beside the point. The man had imposed his will on his unwilling son, and it didn’t feel good. She shared the feeling firsthand now and acknowledged that with a slow nod. His expression said that he received the message.

“If you don’t mind,” the lawyer said, clearing his throat to get their attention, “there’s more.”

She sighed but didn’t sit back down. “What else?”

“Ernst collected an impressive number of books and even some scrolls on his travels. Hundreds of writings, obscure religious texts and—”

“The sacred teachings of all times,” Bahru explained. “He said you were one of the few people he had ever known who would appreciate his collection.”

Lena blinked in absolute stunned shock, and thudded heavily into her chair again. Tears welled up in her eyes. “Oh, my God. I can’t believe he did that.”

“Wait, wait,” Ryan said. “He gives you a vineyard, you’re pissed. But he gives you a pile of musty old books and you’re in tears?”

She spared him only a quick scowl before turning to Bahru. “But you should have them, Bahru.”

He shook his head. “They were meant for you. Where would I put them, once I am free to return to my endless journeying?”

“The books will be delivered to you at your home by week’s end, Magdalena,” said the attorney. “I have people packing them up for shipping right now.”

She opened her mouth, but he held up a hand. “I promise you, these are men who know how to handle precious and rare manuscripts. They’ll be safe. Ernst also set up a trust for your child, the current balance of which is…” He shuffled papers. “Ten million dollars. With interest, it will be worth significantly more as time passes. But you are in complete control, and may use the interest at any time and in any way you see fit. The principal is to remain untouched until you deem the child mature enough to take control of it. He said he trusted you completely.”

She felt as if the air had all rushed out of her body and her muscles had turned to gelatin. “But the interest on ten million dollars would be…”

“At the current rate, it’s earning about five hundred thousand per year.”

Her jaw dropped.

“As for you, Bahru, Ernst left you exactly what you asked for. The guesthouse on the vineyard, with the caveat that it’s all right with Magdalena—”

“What’s this?” Ryan asked, sounding angry again.

She put her hand on his shoulder. “Easy, Ryan.” And then she turned to the bearded holy man. “Bahru?”

He smiled softly. “He wanted me to stay close to the child, Magdalena. To advise you and your baby just as I have advised him, and to watch over things.”

“And is that what you want?”

“I want nothing more.”

“Well, you got more,” the lawyer said. “He’s leaving you enough stock to provide a small income for the rest of your life, Bahru. And he told me not to take no for an answer.”

Bahru’s face darkened. “I told him no money!”

“He insisted.”

Lena smiled, recognizing the irony of what she was about to say. “It’s what Ernst wanted, Bahru. It would be an insult not to take it.”

He frowned but looked down. After a moment, though, he met her eyes again and nodded once. “I accept—if you will accept my presence in the guesthouse, Magdalena.”

“Of course I will.”

“Lena, I don’t know about all this,” Ryan began, but he stopped when she sent him her patented glare. She had learned it from her mother, who could wilt roses with it.

“Fine. Fine. It’s not like I have any say in it anyway.”

“That’s right, Ryan.”

He was really fuming. She knew he’d never trusted Bahru, but surely he could see now that the guru had never been after his father’s fortune. He’d been clearly angry when Ernst had left him money.

“Are we finished here, then?” Ryan asked.

“Actually,” Samuels said, “Lena and Bahru can go now, but I need one more moment with you, Ryan.”

Ryan sent Lena a look, as if to ask if she would be okay without him for a few minutes. She had been okay without him for her entire life, minus eight blissful weeks, she thought, but she didn’t say it out loud.

“I’ll venture into the reception,” she said with a nod toward the door. “Come on, Bahru. It would be rude of us not to at least put in an appearance.”

Nodding, Bahru got to his feet. Lena turned back to Ryan. “I’ll wait for you, okay?”

“Yeah. I’ll find you when I’m done here.”

She didn’t know whether to look forward to that—or dread it.

Ryan rose when they left, then stood there staring blankly at the door for a long moment. It was like a twister had just swept through his life. He’d buried his father and found out he was going to be one himself, inherited billions he’d never wanted, and learned that the man he disliked more than anyone he knew was being installed as a fixture in his child’s life, when he himself had not yet been granted access. All in one day.

“Are you all right, Ryan?”

“Yeah. I—” He shook his head hard, as though he was shaking away the fog. “Yeah. Good. Let’s get on with this. I’ve got… a lot to deal with.”

“That’s got to be the understatement of the year.” The lawyer bent to pick up an oversized briefcase, then laid it on the giant antique desk and snapped open the clasps. He opened it and picked up a wooden box that looked centuries old, at least. Its lid was completely engraved, so that there wasn’t a smooth spot anywhere. Vines with leaves and buds, stars and spirals in between.

As the attorney held it out to him, Ryan took it and looked more closely, realizing that the more you looked at the thing, the more you saw. Swirls in the vine’s barklike texture revealed an eye here, a hand there, a crescent moon in another spot. He wanted to roll his eyes. “I don’t know how many times I told the old man I just wasn’t into all his spiritual hocus pocus bull. I guess he just had to try one last time to capture my interest.”

And he had. The box was spectacular—there was no denying it as a work of art. And that spoke to Ryan’s soul, though he would never admit it. But there was more. Something that seemed to grab his attention and pull him in.

He lifted the lid to see what was inside.

There was no earthly reason for him to feel as if he’d been hit between the eyes with an invisible blast, and yet that was what he felt at his first glimpse of the blade. It was a simple piece. A double-edged dagger with a gleaming gold hilt. It looked real. Weighed enough, too.

“That’s it?”

“That’s it. He said I was to give it to you in private, and to tell you to keep it to yourself.”

“And why’s that?”

Samuels shrugged, snapping the briefcase closed. “I don’t know any more than that, Ryan.” Then he rose and extended his hand.

Ryan closed the lid of the wooden box and accepted the gesture. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. I’m sure we’ll be in touch. Let me know if there’s anything you need. And again, Ryan, I’m very sorry for your loss.”

“Thanks.”

The lawyer nodded and left. Ryan watched him go. Then he opened the box again, wondering what the hell this was all about.

He went to pick the knife up, but his hand stalled just before making contact, as if he was afraid to touch it. Which was completely illogical. And then his palm started tingling like nothing he’d ever felt before. For just the barest instant the golden blade seemed to glow.

There was a knock at the door, and he slammed the lid as fast as if he’d spotted a cobra inside. Damn, he was jumpy. Emotional overload. A trick of the light. Some weird combination of the two.

“Ryan?”

It was Lena’s voice. He shoved the box onto a nearby shelf and went to open the door. She searched his face, hers full of concern. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Fine. It’s just been… it’s been a crazy day, that’s all.”

“I know it has. For me, too. And the energy out there is just…” She raised her hands to her head and made the universal gesture for crazy.

“Nuts?” he asked.

“Frenetic. And fake, too. A lot of those people are only here for their own ends. To see or be seen, or… I don’t know. Definitely not out of any love for Ernst, that’s for sure.”

“They told you that?”

She frowned, cocking her head and wiggling her fingers in a woo-woo gesture. “Of course not. Witch, remember?”

He almost smiled, because he’d forgotten how expressive she was with her hands. And her face. She could never hide her feelings, and he didn’t think she saw much reason to try. “Right.”

“I’ve got to get back home, Ryan. I don’t like it here anymore, and it’s upsetting the baby.”

He nodded, stepped aside and took her arm, drawing her back into the den. Then he closed the door behind her. “We can slip out the back, and I’ll drive you to the hotel and your car.”

“I took the bus.”

“The bus?”

“Don’t act like I just said I rode a donkey. For crying out loud, Ryan, not everyone can afford a three-hundred-dollar flight for a day trip.”

“No, not everyone. But you can. Now.”

She met his eyes, and hers flashed with what looked like anger. “I will never touch a penny of that money. It’s all going to fold right back into itself for the baby. I don’t want it, didn’t ask for it and don’t need it.”

“All right, all right, I wasn’t insulting you.” Damn, she was sensitive.

She shrugged and turned away.

“Listen, I want to talk to you.”

“About what?”

“Bahru. I don’t trust him, Lena.”

“You never have. But I thought his insistence that he didn’t want any money from your father’s estate might have convinced you that he was sincere.”

“His insistence wound up getting him an income for life and a free place to live. Not to mention a VIP pass into the life of my child, who, in case you forgot, just inherited a fortune.”

“Your child?”

“Our. I meant our.” He turned away, pushing one hand through his hair, knowing he was blowing this utterly.

“You’re jealous, aren’t you?” she asked.

He gave her a don’t-be-ridiculous look, but she went on anyway. “You’ve always been jealous of Bahru. And no wonder, Ryan. Your father abandoned you but took Bahru with him, and that was wrong of him. As much as I loved the man, I know that was wrong. But it wasn’t Bahru’s fault.”

“I am not jealous.”

“How could you not be? You were eleven. Your mother had just died, and your father left you behind and walked away with his guru. No one in their right mind could blame you for how you felt. And now it looks as if Bahru has once again usurped your place, this time in the life of our child. But you’re forgetting one very important element in all this, Ryan.”

“What element is that?” he asked. He knew he sounded angry, sarcastic, and while he regretted it, he couldn’t seem to help himself.

She walked up to him, slid a hand over his shoulder. “Me.”

Frowning, he lifted his head and turned to face her even though there were hot tears burning in his eyes, tears he hadn’t thought he had in him—not for his father.

“I am not a stupid woman. Nor am I a gullible one. I am, in fact, probably the most powerful woman you’ve ever met in your life—besides my mom, anyway—even though I’m powerful in ways you don’t respect or even understand. But you can trust me on this, Ryan. I would never keep you from being in our baby’s life.”

“I don’t know if I believe that.” How could he believe it? he wondered. “I mean, look at you. You’ve been pregnant for how long? And you never said a word.”

She sighed as if emptying her lungs to the bottom, nodding, not arguing. “I know it looks bad. But, Ryan, I truly had no intention of keeping this from you. I just kept putting it off, and the next thing I knew months had gone by. And the longer I waited, the harder it was. But I always meant to tell you—and I swore I’d do it before she was born. That’s the truth.” She lowered her eyes, then they shot back up to his. Laser beams. “You know I don’t lie.”

He nodded. “I remember that about you.”

“So you believe me, then?”

Long pause, then he nodded. “I believe you.”

“And you can believe me about this, too. There is no way Bahru will ever be more involved in our child’s life than her father. Not unless that’s the way you want it to be.”

His doubts thinned. Her honesty had never been a question to him. She didn’t lie. His tension eased a little. “Thank you for that,” he said.

“I’m not finished yet.”

He gave her a half-genuine smile. “I didn’t think you were.”

“Am I talking too much? I am, aren’t I?”

“You always talked too much. I’ve missed the hell out of it.”

She averted her eyes all of a sudden. Had she felt what he had just then? That old familiar unnh, right between the belly button and points south? “Besides,” he went on, “you’re one of the smartest people I know. So please, keep on talking.”

She got a little pink-faced at the compliment, but then something else replaced embarrassment in her eyes. Sympathy. Like she could feel the unexpected heartbroken sensation in his chest. Like she knew how he was hurting right then. Like she could see it in his eyes, but even more, like she could feel it.

“All right, I will.” Her voice came out more softly than he’d heard it since she’d come back into his life this morning. Maybe softer than he’d ever heard it. “I just have one piece of advice for you today. Don’t let things outside yourself control the way you live your life. Not your father, not all he put on you—the businesses, the money—”

What a notion that was. Not to let the 3000-ton weight on his back knock him flat. If only that were possible.

“And not me,” she added, compelling his attention. “Not even this baby. You need to make up your mind what you honestly, truly want and then do it, no matter what it is. You want to keep being the spoiled, rich playboy? Then go ahead. Let the boards of directors run the companies, cash your checks and bag a different supermodel every night of the year. You want to be involved in your daughter’s life? Then figure out a way to do that. That’s all you can do. It’s all you’re supposed to do. Life should be lived, Ryan. Relished. Not spent enslaved to ‘I shoulds.’“

He looked at her face, her beautiful face, the one he’d missed way too much, and wondered how she ever got to be so smart.

“As for me, I’m gonna catch a cab to Port Authority and a bus back home, because I had no idea how much I’d miss Havenwood. This has all been… too much.”

He drank in the sight of her for a long moment. “I have a better idea.”

“Really? And that is?”

“I’ll drive you home. How ‘bout that?”

She gave him a quizzical look, like a puppy who’d just heard an odd noise.

“Maybe I’ll stay awhile,” he said, leaning in to kiss her.

She dodged his mouth with an elegant dip and a bob, and wound up standing a foot away. She looked scared. “I said you could be in our child’s life, Ryan. Not in mine.” Turning, she headed for the exit. “She’s due in February. You can come and visit then, if you want.”