He had the brothers watch over her the next few days while he thought about the best way to find out about her gift and how to help her. He had heard rumors that Blythe’s cousin Libby Drake was a healer. She was a doctor as well, but she was reputed to have the psychic gift of healing. Libby Drake came from the infamous Drake family, a notorious family in Sea Haven many locals thought of as royalty.
A few years earlier there had been a write-up in a magazine about Libby. Whether it was true or not, only Blythe could tell him. He didn’t ask favors of others, but only Seychelle mattered to him, not his ego. He needed this for his woman. Even if she never let him back into her life, he had to find out how to help. He texted Blythe.
Need you to get in touch with your cousin Libby Drake. Need a sit-down with her.
It took a long time before she answered him. As a rule, Blythe got back to any member of Torpedo Ink immediately. The fact that it was Savage, who never texted her, would make her want to answer even faster.
I don’t like letting you down, but the Drakes are secretive and I’m protective of them just as I’m protective of you. Why do you need Libby?
Blythe was straight-up asking. Either he had to tell her, or she wasn’t going to take any chances with her cousin. He didn’t blame her. In fact, he respected her all the more. It meant she would be equally as fierce protecting Seychelle.
Suspect Seychelle has the same gift. Need to know how it works. Steele examined her, Czar can confirm if need be. Worried. Have to know how to take care of her. I don’t need Libby to heal her. Just need advice. Give favor in return if needed. Word of honor whatever is said between us stays that way. Need way to help Seychelle.
Libby is shy speaking to outsiders about her gift. It isn’t done. Don’t get your hopes up and don’t take it personally if she refuses. Will ask.
Savage paced up and down all night waiting for Blythe’s answer to his request. His brothers Storm and Keys, the two watching over Seychelle, said she hadn’t moved from her bed, other than to use the bathroom. She wasn’t even taking her normal walks on the headlands. He detested that he wasn’t there to take care of her. It took three days before the answer came. Three long days and nights. Savage was afraid he might lose his fucking mind.
It turned out Libby was pulling her shift at the hospital and doing volunteer work as well. She also had to think his request over very carefully, and Tyson Derrick, her husband, wanted to investigate him—meaning talk to Jonas Harrington and Jackson Deveau. Both men were her brothers-in-law. Savage couldn’t blame Tyson. He would have done the same thing to protect his woman. But that was three more nights without much in the way of sleep.
He’d taken the ride to Sea Haven all three nights and sat outside Seychelle’s bedroom window, his ass on the ground, back to the wall, eyes closed, hoping she knew he was close. Two of those nights the fog rolled in, turning the world into a deep gray mist, and he turned his face up like a sacrifice. The fourth day he got a text that Libby would meet him at Czar’s residence while the kids were away at Maxim and Airiana’s home. Maxim was one of Czar’s birth brothers, who owned the large farm with him.
Savage wasn’t happy that they were meeting at Czar’s home, but he’d take the meet anywhere. He was just grateful he’d get one. The Drake family consisted of seven sisters, all with tremendous psychic talents. The small village of Sea Haven tended to attract those with gifts, or hidden talents. The Drake sisters were considered to be the most powerful of all those living in the area, but who really knew?
Jonas Harrington, the local sheriff, was married to Hannah Drake. She owned a tea and bath and body shop in town. Jackson Deveau, a deputy sheriff, was married to the youngest Drake sister, Elle. Savage knew very little about her, other than that she was considered to be the most powerful of all the Drake sisters. He hoped so. He hoped she gave Jackson hell as often as possible.
Libby Drake Derrick had the body of a ballet dancer. She wore her thick, jet-black hair short, curving around the chin of her delicate face. The color of her hair really showed off the intensity of her vivid green eyes. Tyson Derrick, her husband, a brilliant biochemist, was an unexpectedly muscular man with wavy black hair and piercing blue eyes. He gave off a protective vibe as he sat beside his wife, although his handshake was direct and without any stupid manly games.