The Forgotten One

The Forgotten One: Book Two of the Surrender Series
Copyright © 2016 by Trinity Blacio

All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, without permission in writing from the publisher.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

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Riverdale Avenue Books

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Cover by Scott Carpenter

Digital ISBN 978-1-62601-301-8

Print ISBN 978-1-62601-302-5

First edition, August2016

Prologue

Willow Lydia Harper-Townsend strolled down the street taking in all the familiar surroundings. It was still early morning and there weren’t many people out, since her New Orleans was a night place. The streets were wet and cleaned from the city employees, and the smell of fresh coffee being brewed made her sigh.

Once Willow stepped over the hidden barrier only non-humans could see, she released the spell that unleashed her true identity. Willow took a deep breath and shook out her long hair, finally able to relax. She knew her mother’s spell protected this part of New Orleans from outsiders seeing those that lived in its boundaries.

Willow laughed and thought of the glass dome her best friend and sister, Tamara, lived under. “It seems our lives will always hold some parallel, my younger sister,” she mumbled, thinking how they had met, in the service. She realized that both she and Tamara would never be going back to that life. The stripped markings on her skin were now visible now that she was home. They been hidden for so long this last time.

Not only did they share the same father, Baal Prince of the Underworld, but Willow had a blood bond with two very alpha males who just happened to be related to her sister’s men. Maybe it was a DNA thing that siblings were somehow joined, but that wasn’t true for her other siblings, far as she knew as. She imagined what it would have been like to have an older brother or two to count on when she had been younger. Or for that matter, to kick Richard’s ass when he had touched her in anger and she’d been so unprepared for his attack.

“Let’s hope the danger has passed for a little while, Tamara. I need to rest,” she whispered to herself as a shiver went up her spine. The image of all those tiny hair-fanged spiders that had crawled all over the outside of the dome was an image straight out of horror movies, let alone the nightmares Willow experienced for the next few days afterward. She scanned her surroundings, looking for any signs of spiders that were freaky-looking, but saw nothing.

Willow shook her arms and tried to shake the feeling of dread. For a month, they all had searched for a way to send the spider lady to hell, but only her sister and their father, Baal, had finally found a way, ending the crazy sick lady’s reign of terror on the human population and their kind. Sentencing her to a life below only had one drawback—their father had to face her grandfather, the master of deceit himself.

Oh, Tamara and her father had believed no one heard their conversation at the ball, but Willow had, and in some ways she was a little jealous. Wishing that it had been her in their father’s arms dancing, but it was not meant to be. He couldn’t find out about Willow or her mother.

For over 200 years her mother, Laurann, had carved out a little spot in New Orleans as their home. They were safe, no one knew of this place, for now. Not even her grandparents, who had thrown her mother out when they found out she was pregnant. Willow smiled, remembering when the first few outcasts joined their little block haven, Mr. Sayles and his wife. When they had appeared with their son, another child a little older than her, Willow had been thrilled.

At 340 years old, the fae-bear shifters had joined their outcast city, tired of society’s cliques and such. Lydia ran her hand up her arm, in some ways Mr. and Mrs. Sayles were family. Their children were like brothers and sisters to her.

This place always did seem to bring peace to her that no other did, but it also happened to be where her mom and son could relax. Safe, they were here in this hidden little world. She smiled and waved to Mr. Sayles, the owner of the small coffee shop. The store wasn’t like the big ones up on Bourbon Street. No, it was better because it came with personality, magic, and family.

“How are you doing, Willow? Your Mama and Bryce will be happy to know you are home.”

Her birth name was Willow Lydia Harper, she had thrown on the Townsend to throw anyone off when she had signed on to the special unit under Gage’s and Lars’ command.

“I’m doing well.” She hugged the man, as she stepped in front of his store. “Can I get two of your coffees and a bag of beignets to go?”

“Go on in, the wife will get you what you need, plus she was just talking about you. Saying you were coming for a visit,” he winked at her, then frowned as he glanced around. “We’re going to get others coming here, soon” he whispered to himself, and went about sweeping the sidewalk. Down the street, Marco played with his small band. His voice always did have a soothing effect on her.

“I see your son still has the gift.” She nodded to Marco, who lifted his head, turning it towards her, smiling. Mr. Sayles laughed.

“Yes, he does and he has a fondness for you, my dear. Maybe while you are here we can hear you two sing again? But now your Mom is waiting for you.” He pushed her into the shop. Willow took a deep breath, the scent of fresh bread and coffee always had her whimpering.

“God, it’s good to be home,” she whispered.

“Yes, but how long before your men finally find you and come to get you?” Mrs. Sayles asked, coming around the counter to give her a big hug.

“Let’s hope they don’t, shall we, because I’d hate to hurt them.” She took the coffee and the bag of beignets that her son loved.

“Thank you,” she leaned over and placed a kiss on the woman’s cheek, before she stepped back. She putting her money on the counter, knowing Mrs. Sayles wouldn’t take it otherwise. She turned to leave.

“One day you are going to have to accept that you to deserve to be happy, Willow. You and your mother have been in hiding so long you have forgotten how to live,” the small woman said.

“That may be true, Mrs. Sayles, but being forgotten once was bad enough. Twice just hurts too much. Plus, this is home,” With those words, she slid out of the shop and made her way down Bienville Street towards home. Her heart ached as she drew closer, the need to have her son in her arms grew stronger with every step towards their house.

It was one thing for her father to not acknowledge her, or even recognize who she was, but for your own blood mate not to even... Willow shook her head, knowing how her mother felt. The heartache there twisted at her gut. Seems Willow, her daughter, was going to follow in Laurann’s footsteps.

Even living in Alton’s home, for close to four months on and off, he had paid her no mind whatsoever. That was one of the reasons why, Willow made sure she stayed away from him. It just hurt too much. Every time he opened his arms for his wife, he had her wishing that she was the one in his arms, being protected and loved. Add the factor. Maxim was also her mate, so she had no choice, but to disappear again. Now, that her best friend and sister was safe, she could stay home for a little while, knowing Lars and Gage wouldn’t need her anytime soon.

It would also give Alton the time he needed to grieve for his wife, maybe someday…

***

Alton Cooper paced back, his black hair was a nuisance that he wished was pulled back, and in an instant, it was done as he stared at his granddaughter. It had been a three weeks since the Valentine’s Day Ball and no one had heard anything from Lydia his—no—their woman. He looked at Maxim and even he seemed ready to explode. His eyes almost seemed to light up when Maxim was furious.

“You have to know something Tamara, she’s your best friend. Didn’t she tell you at all where she goes?” Maxim asked, drumming his fingers on the table as she peeled potatoes.

“No. I told you both, Lydia always kept to herself revealing nothing to anyone.” She shrugged. “Maybe that is why she was so good at her job.” Her gaze jumped to his. “Plus, I don’t know why you are so bent out of shape. You two needed this time to come to terms with everything. Would you really want to go to her while you are still grieving for your wife?”

He nodded and joined them at the table. “I agree. It’s been hard and I hope I wouldn’t bring that to our relationship, but granddaughter, she is out there unprotected and she needs us,” he stated, and watched his grandson. Alton wouldn’t dwell on the fact she had been in the same house as he and his wife or her pain at watching them. Alton pushed that fact into the back of his mind.

“You know Lydia did lie to us once,” Lars said, coming up behind Tamara and kissing her cheek. “We were looking for places for the team’s trip south. We’d narrowed it down to three possibilities—New Orleans, California and Florida. Gage and I were leaning toward New Orleans, when she told us that a lot of the hotels were booked for a romance writer’s convention, but it turns out it wasn’t till this month. From what I hear though there will be over 5,000 people flooding New Orleans this week coming up.”

Maxim looked at him and he nodded. “Well, it’s the only lead we have, might as well go and check it out.”

“Oh, can we go? There are a few authors I’d love to meet, Maya Banks, Heather Graham, and so many more, but one of my favorite has to be Cherise Sinclair. Her
Shadowlands
series, wow hot.” Tamara fanned herself and looked up at Alton’s grandson, Lars, then to Gage who leaned against the counter.

“We were just made head of the pack here, baby. It’s a little soon to be leaving,” Gage said.

“It’s only a weekend. Please? You know once I start to get big, I’m not going to be able to go anywhere and I always did want to walk down Bourbon Street after dark. You know Sherrilyn Kenyon’s books take place there. She’s another great author.” Tamara frowned. “But then again, will your council allow me to go?”

“
They have no say in where you go, my daughter,
” Baal said to all in the room, making sure even Alton had heard.

“Your father is right, Tamara. The council can’t do anything to you.” Alton sat down next to Maxim and stretched out his legs. “Plus, they know if they tried, they’d have to answer to your father. He might not be able to be here in person, but he can still run amok among us up here.”

Gage looked at Lars. “What do you think?”