Fate Forgotten (21 page)

Garrit swore colorfully in French, speaking so quickly Eve caught only half of it. She placed her hand on his knee. A muted plea for him to remember himself. And Alex, who could wake up any moment. The last thing she wanted was for her son to hear his father cursing so violently. He stood up, walking a few rows away.

“I’m so sorry,” she said to Horus. She didn’t understand why Garrit was so upset, and while he had stopped swearing, she could still feel him simmering with anger.

The brown man was leaning back in his seat again, watching her husband and seemingly trying not to smile. “No, no. No need to apologize.”

“I knew I remembered you,” Garrit said. It was somewhere between a whisper and a growl. “I knew it.”

“Garrit.” She grabbed him by the arm and forced him into a seat. “
Qu’est-ce que t’as?
”
What is your problem?
But he only shook his head in response and glared at Horus.

“I apologize for causing your husband such distress,
madame
. I suppose I won’t be needing directions to the House of Lions after all.”

Garrit swore again. “As if you didn’t know.”

She frowned at him until he looked away, then she glanced at Horus. “How do you know Lars?”

“We worked together.” Garrit snorted, but Horus ignored it. “As I said, he is a son to me. And he cares very much for your family. They have been a home to him, away from home.”

“Yes, I’m sure it’s been a very fruitful relationship for him,” Garrit said. “What does he want, then? Are you here to beg me to reconsider?”

“On the contrary,
monsieur
. I’m here to offer my services instead.” He smiled that knowing smile again. “You can hardly be threatened by a man as old as I am.”

Eve said nothing, staring at Horus. None of this made any sense to her. Did this mean that Lars Owen had been the man who was in love with her? She had barely spoken with him. Barely even met him. And Horus had said Lars considered them family.

“I’d be even less threatened by Minerva, if I was to be given a choice in the matter.” Garrit said. “Not that it matters. Things are well in hand.”

Horus raised an eyebrow. “Perhaps we could discuss this with your aunt and father. You risk too much, Garrit, by becoming complacent.”

Alex stirred, then sat up, rubbing his eyes. Garrit took the banana he had set aside and peeled it, slicing it into pieces for their son. Eve wasn’t fooled. His anger and frustration had blossomed again, fed by Horus’s soft spoken suggestion. Alex crammed a piece of the banana into his mouth, his eyes wide as he stared at the stranger.

She had to know. Even if it upset Garrit further. “Lars is my family?”

Horus’s gaze shifted to her. His smile thinned, but the affection didn’t leave his features. “I’m afraid the answer to that question is not a simple one, and now is neither the time nor the place to have the conversation that would follow.”

She nodded and removed the cellophane from the sandwich Garrit had brought her. It was probably the most direct answer she was going to get. And it made perfect sense. To explain the relationship to the House of Lions would be nearly impossible. Technically, she supposed Owen, her son Owen from whom she guessed Lars was descended, would be half brother to the sons she had born Ryam. That would make Garrit a very distant cousin by blood. She grimaced at the mess it all made in her mind. She had been born too many times to make sense of the relationships she had left behind in each life, never mind reconciling them to each other.

“I suppose there isn’t any way to talk you out of coming?” Garrit said, finally.

“Would you give up, if you were him?” Horus asked.

Garrit’s expression became grim. He didn’t answer aloud, but Eve heard his mind whisper,
never.

Horus nodded as if he heard it too, then rested his head against the back of his seat and closed his eyes. She watched him sleep, and the only person who spoke the rest of the trip was Alex. Even worse, it was the toddler who made the most sense.

Juliette took Alex from her arms the minute they stepped through the door. “
Mon garçon!
How did you enjoy your trip?” She kissed both the baby’s cheeks, then Eve’s and Garrit’s, and swept away again, carrying Alex off with her.

Horus came to stand beside Eve, smiling politely. She frowned, not sure what to do with the man, and still not sure why he had come.

“My mother-in-law, Juliette,” she offered by way of introduction. For lack of anything better. “She takes her grandmothering very seriously.”

Horus smiled. “I’m sure she does it very well. Your son is very lucky to have so much family to love him.”

“This is my father, René.” Garrit said, interrupting them. “I’m afraid my aunt will not be here until the weekend. In the meantime, perhaps we could speak in my study?”

“Of course.” Horus nodded politely to Eve, and excused himself.

She watched him walk away with Garrit and René until Juliette came back out with Alex on her hip. “Do not worry yourself, overmuch, Abby. They are your sons. They only do what they do to protect you.”

“It almost makes me wish I had born more daughters.” She shook her head. “If you don’t mind keeping Alex, I think I’d like to take a walk. Stretch my legs after the trip.”

Juliette laughed. “Go. I have missed my grandson, it’s no bother.”

It had been a long time since she had walked the land. Ryam had allowed her a significant amount of freedom until just before the birth of their first child, and she had gone riding almost every day. When he asked her not to, to stay close to the manor unless he was with her, she had not made much of a fuss about it. But she had missed riding. Had missed packing herself a lunch and picnicking in a convenient tree, with a view of the manor and the fields and the mountains.

Garrit kept horses still, beautiful animals with lineages as complex as his own, but he rarely had time to go riding anymore. Juliette did, however. Every morning, often with René. She smiled to herself. Juliette was the kind of woman you couldn’t help but admire. Everything she did, she did well, and the things she didn’t do were very few.

She skirted one of the fields and took a dirt path, only realizing where she was going when she glanced up and saw the trees. The poor trees which had received more than their fair share of lightning strikes these past years. They were lucky there hadn’t been a fire. Even luckier the manor hadn’t been struck as repeatedly.

One tree in particular looked pathetically sorry. It was split down the middle and scarred with burn marks in so many places she wasn’t sure how it had survived. She touched its trunk and felt the life within it still, saw the little bits of new growth from the previous summer. It was an old tree, and it ached.

She rested her forehead against the rough, pocked bark, and closed her eyes, opening herself to the forest, to the land around her, sifting through the presences that were familiar. The dogs in their kennels, the horses in the stable, the sheep that were still kept to graze as well as for wool and mutton. She remembered a time when there had been lions here. And babies raised playing with cubs. But the others had never been easy around the great cats, and Eve had been forced to send them away, fearing for what would happen to the pride after her death. But her sons and grandsons, Reu’s sons and grandsons, had not given up the name. They were still marked by the claws of the lions they had played with as children.

The presence of the people burned even more brightly than the animals. She felt Garrit’s agitation, René’s determined calm, Juliette’s complete trust in her husband and son, and Alex’s pleasure to be among familiar people and things.

And then she felt someone else, behind her. She didn’t turn, though, not wanting to startle them. Whoever it was. She frowned at the feelings she couldn’t name that came from them. Him, she decided. It was a man. A man trying to force himself not to feel.

“I know you’re there,” she said softly. “But I don’t know why you’re hiding.”

There was a muttered curse in a language she thought might have been Icelandic, but it was different somehow, too. She had a feeling she knew who it would be before the hand touched her shoulder. She turned.

Lars dropped his hand at once, but she rubbed the spot where he had touched her and frowned up at him. “What are you doing out here?”

He studied her face in a way that made her cheeks flush hot, and brought memories back to her mind. The way Thorgrim had looked at her. It was as though she was water and he had crossed a desert to find her. Lars lifted his hand again, and it brushed her hair. A leaf. He showed it to her and then let it fall to the ground. But she couldn’t take her eyes from him. He was so immense. Broad shouldered and perfectly muscled. She couldn’t imagine what he did for a living to maintain that physique.

He cleared his throat. “Forgive me. I often walk these woods. René was kind enough to allow me that freedom, when it belonged to him. I thought this might be my last opportunity to do so for some time.”

“Why?” He looked so much like Thorgrim. It made her throat close. And the way he looked at her didn’t help anything.

Then he smiled, and she pressed her hand against her chest, because even though his hair was the wrong color, the familiarity of the expression, even after all these years, caused her a physical pain. Like something had stabbed her in the heart.
Oh, Adam. Is this what it feels like every time you look at me?
She didn’t want to hear his answer, but she felt him there in her mind, looking through her eyes. It was dizzying, and she stumbled back against the tree.

Lars’s hands, huge and warm, caught her around the waist. “Are you all right?”

She felt Adam’s withdrawal. It left behind a sorrow that made her head ache along with her heart. She steadied herself. One hand against the tree, the other gripping Lars’s arm. Until she realized he was still holding her, looking at her with concern, and she pulled her hand away and dropped her eyes.

“I’m fine. Just a headache, suddenly.”

“You should get back to the house,” Lars said. And even his voice was Thorgrim’s. “Your husband would never let you hear the end of it if you passed out in the woods.”

It wasn’t helping her dizziness to listen to him. The memories of her past overlapping her present. He had Thorgrim’s eyes too. The resemblance was uncanny when he stood this close to her. Now that she knew what it was. What to look for. She couldn’t not see Thorgrim, and she found herself reaching for him, pressing her palm against his cheek.

He closed his eyes, and she felt his jaw clench, and then his fingers closed around her wrist as if he meant to pull her hand away. But he didn’t, and his eyes opened again, and stared into hers like mirrors. Mirrors for the agony even the sight of him caused. And the way her heart raced with his touch. She wondered if his did too.

“You’re my family,” she heard herself say. “One of Owen’s. One of mine.”

“Yes.” His voice was rough. Thick with emotion. And when he spoke again it was almost a whisper. “I’m yours.”

She couldn’t look away. And his other hand, the one still on her waist, moved to the small of her back. His grip on her wrist had softened, his hand covering hers, and he pulled it from his face, holding it against his chest. She imagined she could feel his heartbeat then. Hard and fast.

And then her whole body exploded in blinding pain. She heard herself screaming, and the echo of Adam’s agony from so far away, and everything went dark.

Chapter Twenty-one: Future

Adam pushed open the door and stopped, staring at Eve. Drinking her in. His body knew he’d been away from her for six months, even if his mind didn’t, and his arms ached for her. His hands twitched to hold her, to stroke her hair, to frame her face and feel the fire that he knew would be there when he touched her skin.

There was someone else in the shop. A tall woman with dark hair and a face so beautiful it almost hurt to look at. He cursed under his breath. He should have realized that Thor wouldn’t let him have this moment. Wouldn’t let him be alone with her if he could stop it. But he didn’t know if it was to protect their secrets, or Eve’s heart.