Daughter of Light (Kindred 2)

I stood there dreaming about my future, raising my children, enjoying this family, all of us gathering in the mansion for holidays, Julia and Clifford having children of their own, Ken probably remarrying, all of the birthdays to come, anniversaries to celebrate. We’d have many good friends, too.

“It seems you have escaped,” I heard, and I turned around quickly to see him not come out of the shadows as much as become shaped by them. The darkness, despite the strong glow of the full moon, seemed impregnable, his coat of armor and his shield. He stepped closer toward me until he was only inches away. Would he wipe me off the face of the earth in one motion? He had brought me here; he could take me away.

“You know,” I said.

“Of course. I could see it in your face even if I didn’t know, Lorelei. I must say, I am surprised. I didn’t think Liam’s genetic contribution would overpower yours, or should I say mine. Maybe if any of my daughters wanted it as much as you do, it would also turn out this way for them. I don’t know. See? There are things I don’t know.”

“What will you do, Daddy?”

“Do? There’s nothing more for me to do here, Lorelei. I told you, warned you, that once you became pregnant with one of them, you would lose all of the protection you had. You’re as vulnerable to all of the dangers and pain this world gives them. You made your choice. I’ll miss you. I have missed you, but I have made you a promise, and I will keep it. Most likely, we’ll never see each other again.

“I’m leaving with your sisters and Mrs. Fennel for Europe. It’s our time to return to Hungary. We have family there. Don’t worry. I’ll speak with Ken Dolan and explain that my business is taking me away. I’ll leave my return vague, and from time to time, I’ll send you a letter or a postcard.” He laughed. “Maybe even an e-mail. I really don’t like e-mail. I like the penmanship of a letter, something that you can keep pressed between the pages of a book.

“They don’t realize what they’re losing with all of this technology, Lorelei. Speed and instant gratification are no substitute for the deep experiences and lasting joy that once was, that I still have. You’ll feel that, too. I have a feeling you won’t forget the things I taught you. I think you’ll teach them to your children, especially your firstborn. I’m out of your life, but I’m not out of you.”

Then he kissed me on the cheek, stroked my hair, and gazed down at me with those electric eyes that were so full of love.

“Will I really be safe now, Daddy? Will my family be safe? I mean, from the evil we feared?”

“Yes. You have left the world we live in,” he said. “No one will sense you or notice you anymore. You can sleep in comfort. The truth is that you are no longer a threat to them. No Renegade, no other family, none of them.”

I closed my eyes and opened them again with a wonderful sense of relief washing over me. He saw it and shook his head.

“You’ll always be a mystery to me, Lorelei, but the truth is, I’m glad. If I didn’t still find things mysterious, I would lose my own thirst for life. So, thank you,” he said, laughing with his eyes.

He started away.

“Daddy!” I called.

He turned. “Yes?”

“Thank you,” I said.

He nodded and then returned to the darkness that waited for him.

I didn’t really see him leave, and sometimes, during the days, weeks, months, and years that followed, I felt as if he was still out there watching me, maybe waiting for me to return.

Everyone, even Daddy, could live in hope and dream of things that would never be.

Pocket Books Proudly Presents

Forbidden Sister

V.C. Andrews®

Available in paperback March 2013 from Pocket Books

Turn the page for a preview of Forbidden Sister . . .

Prologue

My mother wasn’t supposed to have me. She wasn’t supposed to get pregnant again.

Nearly nine years before I was born, she gave birth to my sister, Roxy. Her pregnancy with Roxy was very difficult, and when my mother’s water broke and she was rushed to the hospital, Roxy resisted coming into the world. My mother says she fought being born. An emergency cesarean was conducted, and my mother nearly died. She fell into a coma for almost three days, and after she regained consciousness, the first thing her doctor told her was never to get pregnant again.

When I first heard and understood this story, I immediately thought that I must have been an accident. Why else would they have had another child after so many years had passed? She and Papa surely had agreed with the doctor that it was dangerous for her to get pregnant again. Mama could see that thought and concern in my face whenever we talked about it, and she always assured me that I wasn’t a mistake.

“Your father wanted you even more than I did,” she told me, but just thinking about it made me wonder about children who are planned and those who are not. Do parents treat children they didn’t plan any differently from the way they treat the planned ones? Do they love them any less?