Spellbound (Spellbringers Book 1) (32 page)

I repeatedly tried to reassure him
that I no longer cared about his insensitive barb about choosing
Alisa. It was an ill-considered comment, nothing more. I had
reacted badly at the time and felt ashamed for carrying on like a
drama queen. Had the attack not happened immediately following our
argument, Jace and I probably would have made up within a day or
two.

When I tried to explain to Jace that
my recent silence had nothing to do with him, I meant it. Until I
could figure out how to bring up the subject of Re’Vel and my
dreams, I was afraid to open up my link to Jace. But that wasn’t
the only reason I shut down our link. I’d had to put up a block
against all magic, both incoming and outgoing. It was my only way
to ensure that Re’Vel could not access my dreams. As an added
precaution, I barely slept.

I couldn’t tell Jace why I closed our
link, so he just assumed I didn’t want to speak with him. I hated
that he believed this. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt
him.

My entire life had become defined by
the secrets I carried inside. My dream relationship with Re’Vel,
the secrets I kept from my mother, the use of Persuasion on her:
all of these secrets had taken something from me.

I could perhaps excuse my interactions
with Re’Vel. I believed at the time it was happening that I was
dreaming, and that Re’Vel wasn’t real. I didn’t know he was a
Demon, otherwise I would not have allowed him access to my
mind.

I might have been able to explain away
the use of Persuasion on my mother. The first time I used
Persuasion on her, it was to convince her to take me home to get my
necklace—a matter of life or death. This time, I’d used it to keep
her from panicking.

As for telling the truth about my
magic, I believed it was necessary for my protection and hers. I
wasn’t ready to tell her the truth about me, and she wasn’t ready
to hear it. My mother was strict in her practice of religion. She
believed anything paranormal or supernatural was evil. She didn’t
even like the use of magic in fairy tales. How could I ever tell
her I was a Spellbringer? How could I expect her to accept that
aspect of my life if I couldn’t accept it myself? I still hadn’t
come to terms with who I was. The idea of explaining it to her
brought all my doubts about my magic to the surface.

But these were just excuses. I had to
come clean about Re’Vel. It wasn’t fair to the Alexanders to keep
it a secret when I’d promised to tell them everything. And now that
I knew he wasn’t a figment of my imagination, I had to tell them
for the sake of their safety and protection. I just didn’t know
how.

Today was the day of reckoning, the
day I would reveal my secret to the Alexanders. Abe’s private
investigator friend was supposed to be coming to dinner to fill us
in on the research he’d been conducting about my father. I hoped he
would be able to clear up some doubts I had about my origin. And I
hoped once my questions were answered, I would discover my father
was the man I’d always thought he was. Until the mystery concerning
my father was cleared up, my sense of self hung in the
balance.

Jace called me a few hours before I
was supposed to come to his house and meet their guest. He gently
reminded me that I should try not to be alone and asked if he could
pick me up. He sounded so sad, so unsure of us, I felt even
guiltier than before, a feat which I hadn’t thought possible. My
continued silence and rejection had broken him, and his voice
sounded empty and lost.

“I would love for you to pick me up. I
can’t wait to see you.” I hesitated a second before continuing. It
wasn’t fair for me to lead him on and then break his heart all over
again when he found out the truth about me. I couldn’t help it,
though. I had to say what was in my heart before it burst. “I’ve
missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too,” he replied.
“You can come over anytime, you know. I can pick you up now if you
want. Dad’s friend won’t be there until later, but you can hang out
with me.” His words gushed forth in his excitement. I thought for a
minute before answering.

“Give me about an hour, Jace. I need
to get ready. I’ll see you then?” As much as I wanted to keep my
distance, I couldn’t. I just couldn’t be without him. Our link, the
one I’d severed a week ago was more than just a line of
communication. It was a bond, emotionally, spiritually, almost
physically. We became one. As much as I hated to admit it, I didn’t
feel whole without him.

I hoped an hour would give me enough
time to get ready. My hair was a hideous mess and needed to be
tamed before leaving the house. I carefully selected an outfit,
chuckling at the stupidity of caring about my appearance when so
much was at stake. I deliberately skipped the application of eye
makeup because I was fairly certain tears could be expected in my
immediate future.

When Jace pulled into the driveway, I
began shaking all over. The need to be with him was so strong, it
was overpowering. Thank God my mother wasn’t home, because I
couldn’t have endured the tedious ritual of her small talk with
Jace. I was out the door and in his arms before he made it halfway
across the driveway. His initial shock was quickly replaced by
elation. He hugged me with a ferocity that matched my own. Our
kisses were desperate, filled with a mixture of love, relief,
apology and joy.

To my surprise, our link was as strong
as ever. The instant we touched, his emotions rushed into me with
shocking intensity. I released my pent up magic, letting it flow
through him. A week’s worth of tension and heartache was alleviated
the moment I removed the block.

“We can’t ever let this happen again,”
he whispered against my neck. “Never.”

“I know. Never again,” I replied, my
tears beginning to flow. Jace drew back gently and led me to the
passenger seat of the truck, helping me in. As soon as he shut the
door, I leaned my head against the back of the seat, sighing with
relief.

Jace drove carefully, silently,
watching for any signs of Hunters. I had some serious thinking to
do. The way I saw it, I had two choices. I could shut down my link
to Jace once again, effectively blocking Re’Vel from my dreams. I
could still keep my secret. This option hadn’t worked out very well
so far. Re’Vel was gone for now, but the separation from each other
was killing Jace and me.

Option two involved spilling my guts
to Abe and Jerica and asking them for help. This option was risky,
to say the least. I risked alienating the entire family, including
Jace. How would they react to my admission of evil? How long would
they tolerate me if they knew the truth? My evil was so strong, I
attracted Demons in my dreams.

I spent the afternoon with Jace,
talking very little, but feeling closer to him than I ever had.
Despite the secrets I had yet to reveal, I relaxed for the first
time in days. It was hard to keep my eyes open now that I’d finally
let my guard down. I struggled to stay awake, my fear of seeing
Re’Vel in my dreams the only thing that kept me
conscious.

“Why don’t you take a nap? I’ll wake
you up before dinner,” Jace offered. It was so, so
tempting.

“No matter what, don’t let me fall
asleep. I’ll explain later. I promise. After dinner, I’ll tell you
everything. There’s a reason I blocked you, and it had absolutely
nothing to do with you.”

His forehead creased with concern.
“Rachel, please. You can’t say something like that and not tell me
what’s going on. That’s not fair.”

I wanted so badly to give in. “I
promise I’ll tell you later. I only want to say it once, so I want
to wait until your mom and dad are around to hear it,” I
explained.

“You don’t have to say anything. Just
open your mind.” He reached out and caressed my cheek, and I almost
gave into him. He made it even more difficult to temper my flow of
thoughts when his lips crashed down on mine. His mouth traveled a
fiery path down my neck, and I finally pushed him away when I heard
a car door slam outside.

“We’ll continue this later?” he
asked.

I nodded in response, not quite
trusting myself to speak. Would we continue our conversation later,
or would our relationship be irreparably changed after my heritage
was revealed? Only time would tell.

***

If I hadn’t been so anxious to hear
about my father, I would have enjoyed Albert’s stories. He’d
certainly led an interesting life, changing careers with a
frequency that boggled the mind. I wondered how he and Abe had
formed such an enduring friendship. They seemed so different. With
Abe’s dark skin and football-player physique, he was the opposite
of his slightly-built, rapidly balding, pale, unintimidating
friend.

Abe and his buddy spent dinner
catching up on all the latest gossip in the magical world. Over
coffee and dessert, they reminisced about the days of their youth.
Abe and Albert met during their first year at the Warrior Training
Bureau. Albert looked like a very unlikely candidate for that type
of work, but apparently back in the day, young men were
automatically expected to follow in their father’s footsteps. That
first day of training, Abe took him under his wing, but Albert
didn’t last long. By the end of his first year, he’d already
decided to transfer to the Watcher training facility on the other
side of Central.

Albert completed his training to
become a Watcher, but was never able to settle into an assignment.
He quit while he was still a Novice. Over the years, he’d
auditioned many careers including research assistant, interpreter,
and computer programmer. He finally opened a detective agency in
the private sector, taking occasional assignments from those in the
magical community. The idea of working with a private detective
seemed kind of sleazy, but if Abe trusted him, that was good enough
for me.

Some of Albert’s stories were so
interesting, I got caught up for a brief period of time and enjoyed
myself. But the majority of that long dinner, I just wanted to tell
him to get on with it and tell me what he’d learned about my
father.

After dinner, Jerica, Abe, Albert, and
I gathered in the living room while Jace quickly cleared the table.
Jerica flinched when Jace made some particularly loud crashing
sounds in the kitchen. He didn’t want to miss anything, so he was
trying to work at lightning speed. Minutes later, he emerged from
the kitchen and sat down on the loveseat next to me.

My breathing came in anxious gasps.
For a moment, I was tempted to tell Abe to forget about it, that I
didn’t really want to know what Albert had to say. Jace whispered
in my mind, begging me to calm down. Seconds ticked by as Albert
gathered up his notes, but it felt like a lifetime of
waiting.

Albert was all business when he began
speaking. “Well, Abe, this was an interesting case. When you first
approached me, I thought it would be a breeze, but I’ll tell you, I
had a hard time unraveling this one.”

Clearly, he relished the idea of
dragging it out, increasing the suspense. I barely resisted the
urge to rip the notes out of his hand and read the results of his
inquiry myself.

“Basically,” Albert said,
“the man known as Darius Franklin Stevens, is in fact Jabron
Nkaribo. He was born in Nigeria on December
21
^st
1960. He had an older sister, Keira, and a younger brother,
Palo. Palo was killed just a couple of years ago. Keira has two
surviving children—Mordecai and Samuel.”

Albert’s words seemed to echo and then
fade away. He couldn’t be right. Someone gave him bad information.
My father wasn’t from Nigeria. It was impossible. Wasn’t
it?

“Mordecai—wait, isn’t that the guy
Bryce brought home for New Year’s?” Jace asked, leaning
forward.

“Yes,” Abe said, frowning.

If what Albert was saying was true, I
had two first-cousins I didn’t even know, one of whom had visited
this very house while I was in Atlanta. Had I stayed behind, I
might have been introduced to my cousin. Would Mordecai have
figured out the connection? It was unlikely given the fact that I’d
lived my entire life with the wrong last name. Nkaribo. My last
name should have been Nkaribo. It didn’t sound right—but, yet it
did.

“Jabron attended the Watcher academy
from 1977 through 1981.” Albert paused, switching from his cold
reading of the facts to a more personal tone. “I trained with him.
He was just a couple of years ahead of me. Do you remember him,
Abe?”

“Yes, I do,” Abe answered shortly. I
was unable to determine from his tone whether or not he’d liked my
father. Right now it was hard for me to like Jabron—this man I
didn’t know. This man who was my father.

Albert shuffled through
his notes, finding the spot where he’d left off, and continued.
“His first assignment was in the Birmingham area and he finally
settled in Atlanta two years later.” He paused to give Abe a paper
showing a bunch of dates. “Here’s a marriage certificate between
Darius Stevens and Amelia Jane Stanford. That was actually the
first legal record I found where he’d used the name Darius Stevens.
A son, Jeffrey Alan, was born the following October, and then a
daughter, Rachel Francine, on June 1
^st,
six years
later.”

“And you’re certain that’s Jabron?”
Abe asked.