Jeweled (34 page)

Suddenly Evangeline’s arms ached to embrace her mother, to make up for all the lost years. In that moment she hated Belai, hated being Jeweled, hated even her magickal gift. If given the choice to go back in time, she would have traded all of it for a chance to grow up here, on a cow farm in Cherkhasii, with a father, a mother, and a baby sister named Arabella.

She ached for that loss. Her chest went tight and her eyes became moist.

A warm, light feeling of love and joy filled her heart and she took the stairs more quickly. “Mother?” she breathed. “Is it really you?”

“Evangeline,” said Gregorio behind her. He sounded worried. Why was he worried? This was the best day of her life. She’d found her family!

“I told you. No closer!” her father yelled as she reached the top of the stairs.

Her steps faltered and her smile faded. The warm, joyous sensation in her chest turned leaden. Neither of these people looked happy to see her. Her father looked angry and her mother cowered near the door, her eyes wide and her mouth agape—with fear. Her own joy had blocked her ability to clearly sense their emotions, just as Anatol had been unable to see any truths while looking at his mother through the hatshop window.

She aggressively reached out with her magick and felt the same emotions she saw on their faces—dread, shock, and anger. No happiness. No love here. They were not happy to see her.

“Why?” Evangeline stopped at the top of the steps. “I don’t understand.” She took another step closer and her father rushed forward with a bellow, his face twisted with panic and hatred.

“Stay away! You’re no daughter of ours!” His hands made contact with her shoulders, pushing her away.

Evangeline took a step back on the steps, her gaze flying to her mother and then to her father a scant second before her boot slipped on the top step and she tumbled down. Pain exploded in her head as it cracked against the stairs. She rolled to the base, hitting her knees, hips, and elbows as she went.

Everything went black and then Anatol was looming over her, saying her name. His mouth formed the words,
Evangeline, are you all right?
But she couldn’t hear anything. She lay stunned for a moment, then sat up, shaking her head and assessing her injuries. Nothing broken, though her head throbbed.

Oh, please, sweet Joshui, make me a stone.
She remembered making a similar plea when she’d been brought to Belai as a child.

Joshui had granted her wish. Her emotions were numb—her old walls back up and firmly in place. She felt almost
nothing
. Hardly any emotion from herself or from others.

Sounds began to filter into her awareness once more. Anatol fussed over her, asking if she was all right. Gregorio was shouting on the porch—angry, bitter words were being yelled back and forth between him and her father.

Feeling disconnected, the way she used to feel, she looked up at the men on the porch. Gregorio had her father up against the wall of the house, gripping his shirt and shaking him while he bellowed into his face. Her mother had apparently retreated into the house.

Wincing from the pain in her head and body, she stood with Anatol’s help. “Gregorio,” she said softly, cradling her sore arm. She was going to have a bad bruise on her elbow. He didn’t hear her.
“Gregorio!”

Gregorio stopped, stared her father down for a long, dangerous moment in which she wasn’t sure what he’d do. Violence seemed to emanate from his body. Then he turned toward her.

“It’s all right, Gregorio. Let’s just go.”

“It’s not all right, Evangeline.
It’s not
.” Gregorio’s hands were clenched at his sides.

But it was all right. She couldn’t feel a thing and it was wonderful. She was a stone, just as she’d asked Joshui. “No, really. It’s all right.” She turned and began to limp her way back down the road.

“You never come back here, do you hear me?” her father yelled after her retreating form. “We cut off your tainted branch of the family tree as soon as we could! You’ve been dead to us since you were four!”

Evangeline didn’t turn around. She made no indication she’d even heard him. More shouting met her ears, a thump, a muffled sound, and then silence.

Gregorio and Anatol caught up to her near the dairy barns.

“Are you all right?” Gregorio growled, looking over his shoulder.

“I don’t think I broke anything, but I have a headache. I’m probably bruised.”

He whirled her to face him. “I can tell you’re all right physically. I didn’t mean that.”

She blinked. “I’m fine. I prayed to Joshui to give me my walls back and He did. I feel nothing but a headache and some aches in my arms and legs, really.” She pulled away from him and began walking again.

For several moments she traveled down the road alone, then the men fell into step beside her. They walked in silence. This time when they passed the dairy barns, the milkmaids didn’t just cast the occasional curious glance their way. This time they stopped and stared.

One blond woman wearing a more fashionable blue dress stood out from the rest. Evangeline gave her a critical head-to-toe sweep as the woman wavered in an indecisive manner for several moments, then suddenly bolted toward them. “Wait!” she yelled, her long, fair hair streaming behind her.

Feeling deliciously numb, she turned to face the woman who was most assuredly Arabella Bansdaughter.

“Are you my sister?” the woman asked, coming to a stop. She was out of breath.

“I’m Evangeline. I’m apparently your sister, yes.” She blinked. “In blood, at least.”

“Evangeline?” She stared for a moment, her hands twisting near her abdomen. “They never told me your name.”

That cut through her emotionless cocoon and made Evangeline flinch.

Anatol made a noise next to her and Arabella’s gaze flew to him. “I’m sorry. Forgive me.” She pressed a hand to her mouth for a moment. “They would never speak of you. I found out by accident. When I asked they said you’d been born deformed and they’d been forced to give you away. When I pressed they called you mentally damaged.” Arabella studied her for a moment. “They said you stole their emotions.” Her voice was almost a breathless whisper. “When you were a baby. That you sucked their joy and happiness right out of them. They said you caused emotional chaos.”

She flinched again, but Joshui had been good to her. Her walls were still mostly intact.

“I do steal emotion,” Evangeline answered. “I steal it, twist it, and trade it. It’s the nature of my magick. It’s why the Edaeii prized me above all others.” She raised a brow. The last part went unspoken—
over you
. “That’s why the Edaeii wanted me to marry into their family, to bring back the magick to their bloodline.”

“Are you doing it . . . now?” she whispered, her eyes wide and a trembling smile of excitement on her lips. “Are you manipulating my emotions?”

“You are a complete moron, aren’t you?” Anatol exploded. “This isn’t a sideshow act. Get away from her!” Anatol pulled her away from Arabella, who had taken several steps back in the face of his rage.

“Wait!” Arabella called. “Don’t go yet.”

Evangeline turned and looked at her with numb eyes. “I’m sorry I never knew you, Arabella.”

Arabella’s lip quivered. “I am, too.”

In the distance she heard Arabella’s father—for he was no father of Evangeline’s—bellowing for Arabella to get back, get away. Even through her walls and even at such a great distance, Evangeline could feel the love and concern he had for Arabella. There was none of that for Evangeline, only fear, sadness, and shame. He was worried that she would do something with her magick to harm his daughter.

Arabella took one last lingering look at Evangeline and then walked toward her father.

Gregorio took Evangeline’s hand, and together he and Anatol led her down the road.

When they were ten steps from the waiting carriage, the walls that had so protected her shattered like they’d been hit with cannonballs. Her knees went weak and she stumbled on the gravel road, going down on her knees. Bowing her head, she covered her face with her hands and sobbed. Viscous black grief covered her, making her muscles weak and wracking her body with uncontrollable tears. She’d dipped into that well so far down inside her.

Now she was drowning in it.

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d cried this hard. Had she ever cried like this? Maybe when she’d been four and taken to Belai. She might have cried then, but she didn’t remember. It was strange to feel the tears in her eyes, on her cheeks. Odd to have these uncontainable sobs shaking her body like a dog with its favorite toy.

Anatol and Gregorio came down beside her, their heat radiating out and warming her.

“They sold me, didn’t they?” she asked into her hands. “Once they found out about the magick, they became frightened of me and they wanted to get rid of me, so they sold me to Belai.” She shook her head. “My father didn’t get that limp trying to defend me. It was all a lie.”

Gregorio rubbed her back. “I don’t know. Maybe ...”

She looked at him. “It was a
lie
.”

She’d heard of it happening, of course. The royals had offered substantial sums for families to turn over their magicked children if the line of magick was rare enough. Since she was the only of her kind that she knew about, she supposed she’d qualified. She wondered how much they’d gotten for her. Did they owe the obvious success of their farming operation to her sale?

Gregorio rubbed his chin and glanced away like he was looking for a palatable answer to drop from the clouds. “Maybe someone in the string of record keepers had half a heart. Maybe they tried to give you something to hold on to for later. Maybe, yes, it was a well meaning lie.” He stopped and stared at the carriage for several moments. “But you’re right; your father got that limp from somewhere else.”

“He’s not my father,” she growled, pushing up. “I have no father, no mother.”

Anatol tried to help her and she was grateful for it, but she pushed past him anyway. This only affirmed what she’d always known while she’d been growing up; you always had to stand on your own feet. You could never count on anyone being there for you. She’d almost forgotten that over the past few months, but now she remembered.

Back at the hotel, Anatol rubbed the washcloth over her back and asked her if she was all right for the hundredth time.

“I’m fine, Anatol, really.” She was lying for his sake. They were both trying so hard to make her feel better.

Smiling, she nuzzled his wet palm. Both the men had been pampering her since they’d reached the carriage. Once back in the room, they’d cleaned and dressed her hurts, called a doctor to examine her head, and then ushered her into a nice warm bath. “I’m still glad I came. At least now I know.”

“Now you know, yes, but that means you lose the comfort of the fantasy.”

“Anatol, you and your
truth
are not helping,” Gregorio gritted out where he sat by the fire.

“It’s all right, Gregorio,” Evangeline answered. “Anatol can’t help pointing out the truth any more than I can help feeling it. He’s right. The fantasy is gone. That’s both a good thing and a bad thing.”

Gregorio came over to stand near the tub. Whereas Anatol could easily discuss his feelings, Gregorio often had difficulties. Evangeline could tell he was struggling with it now. After watching Anatol wash her back for a moment, he knelt beside the tub and looked into her eyes. “I wish I could take it away or make it different. You didn’t deserve that.”

She reached out and touched his face with damp fingers. “Thank you, Gregorio.” Although she wasn’t really sure what she did or didn’t deserve.

“We love you very much,” he finished, emotion clouding his eyes.

Ah, sweet Joshui, they were both the best of men. In all her life, any woman’s life, could she have found better men than these? And most women, even if they were lucky to find a good man at all, never got
two
. Maybe the universe was making up for the lack of love she’d had growing up.

Because, oh, she did love them.

She cupped his cheek and stared into his beautiful dark eyes. “I don’t know why you love me, Gregorio. I don’t understand how I got so lucky to have you both or what it is you see in me.” He started to interrupt her, but she put her fingers over his lips and shook her head. “And I love you back.” Her eyes pricked with tears as she admitted it out loud for the first time. “More than anyone in the world, I love you both.”

Gregorio leaned forward and pressed his mouth to hers. It was a deep and loving kiss, filled with the sentiment that she saw so clearly in his eyes and heard in his voice. A tear squeezed out and rolled down her cheek as she clung to him, getting his clothing wet, though he seemed not to care. He pulled her out of the bathtub and up against him. Soaking the front of his clothing, she held on to him tightly, her eyes closed.