She saw an old framed sketch poking out from behind the others. With a hand clutching the blanket, she used her other to reach for the frame. She knelt down beside the fire, studying it in the light.
Despite the flames, her blood ran cold. There were six faces sketched in this image. A family that was nearly as familiar to her as her own. They hadn’t usually traveled in the same circles, she and the daughter and two sons surrounding their parents. But when they did, it was memorable.
Fiona had been kind. She and Thalia were thrown together often due to their families, and Thalia would confide in her that out of that entire clan, the youngest daughter was the gentlest of them.
Jackson was rumored to be the greatest witch of their generation. Important things were expected from him. Unfortunately, much of his greatness was wasted cleaning up the messes and chaos created by his eldest brother.
Robert Abbott.
Robert was spoiled by his parents and society into believing he was special. Though his natural magic was weather-calling, he’d never come to the aid of his community. He’d used it to send storm clouds over houses that held people he’d believed insulted him. He’d starved whole farms out of spite—families who had never done anything to hurt him.
He always got away with it because he was an Abbott.
She still remembered those cold, hard grey eyes watching her beg for mercy. Ignoring her pleas of innocence as he joined his six friends in the privacy of the Winston parlor in weaving her curse.
Grey eyes.
Abbotts. Why hadn’t she put it together? How had she not demanded to know who their family was before coming here with them? Before giving herself to them without reservation?
She almost wished this was the dream.
“Sarah? Sweetheart, what are you doing up?”
With a muttered word she sent the frame flying from her hand. It would have slammed into Lorie’s head if he’d had a slower reaction. “What the hell, Sarah?”
A red haze fringed the edges of her vision. “Abbotts. This was his house originally, wasn’t it? The house Robert came to after he punished me for something I didn’t do. Are you his direct descendent? Did you think bringing me here to take what you wanted would be the icing on the cake? A grand joke we would laugh about over breakfast?”
He swore, running his hands through his tangled curls. “No, Sarah, I give you my oath. According to our family’s records, Robert was disowned for his many crimes and stripped of his powers. He died like a dog in the streets shortly after Jackson disappeared. Remember Jackson Abbott? The man who was murdered trying to break your spell.” He reached out to her, his eyes bright with concern. “We come from Fiona’s line, Sarah. Not Robert’s.”
She didn’t want to hear it. It had all been a lie. Triad. What did that word mean? That someone was given the power to hurt you three times over? “Tell Conway to lower the shield now. Before I do something I regret.”
Lorie’s hands curled into fists. “Damn it, Sarah, don’t do this. Where will you go? My sister has one book, and we’re still looking for the other.”
She laughed, but it was no longer a happy sound. “Are you still pretending you don’t kno
w the Winston family? That the Abbotts don’t know the Gryffin’s? Still trying to make me believe you knew nothing about all those innocent women killed during my last Triune?”
She brushed past him and headed for the door, but he wasn’t ready to end the conversation. “We didn’t lie. There are no Winstons. Hell, maybe they changed their name. Jacob is a Gryffin, but we didn’t know he existed until he’d kidnapped Harrison. Their family lived in exile—”
“A Gryffin kidnapped someone?” She turned to face him, feigning a look of surprise. “And Abbotts are liars who abuse their power? I’m stunned. Tell Conway to drop the shield. Now.”
He made the mistake of reaching for her hand. Everything that had been inside her before she was freed, all the rage and emptiness, combined with this betrayal and her enhanced feeling of power since their joining spilled out from her into him.
Lorie’s expression crumpled and he fell to his knees, his hand still on her arm, her palm ensuring it stayed there. Her heart was breaking. She wanted to die as she watched the wound reappear on his forehead, his lip splitting.
“You’re a healer,” he wheezed. “Sarah this isn’t who you are.”
She took a deep, ragged breath and sent him a burst of healing light, watching the injuries disappear as quickly as they’d come. Her tears blinded her, but she couldn’t give in. “I’m sorry, Lorie. I’m so sorry. I never meant…I was lost for too long. The power to bind a wound can unbind it as well. It was a lesson I was forced to learn. We can’t be together, can’t you see that now? Even if you weren’t Abbotts we can’t have this. Even if we broke the spell, we can’t be sure I won’t instantly grow old and die…or disappear altogether.”
He stood up slowly, the pain on his face so profound it shattered her. “If I’d told you, I’d never have held you in my arms. You wouldn’t have let me near you. How can I apologize for wanting all the facts first so I could protect you? For wanting you to know me before you judged me for a distant relations sins?”
She turned without another word and opened the door. Needing air. Needing a moment to think. Her emotions were overwhelming, the past and the present blurring together. The future impossible.
She held the blanket close, walking across the large front yard and gazing up at the stars. She’d forgotten how peaceful, how beautiful the night could be. Forgotten how much she’d missed the stars.
“Don’t go.”
She didn’t move when she heard Con’s voice. “I can’t, can I? You won’t remove the shield.”