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The memories rushed back-every forgotten laugh and smile, disapproval, tears, and fears. My chest hurt and I realized I had stopped breathing. I gulped in air, tears filling my eyes. Familiar arms wrapped around me from behind and I leaned against the familiar broad, hard chest.
"You remembered," Bran said.
I nodded, laughing through my tears. "Everything."
"I knew you would." He pressed a kiss against my temple. Take care of him. Your other people are getting antsy.
I knelt by my grandfather's side, took his hand in my left hand, and grasped the Kris Dagger with my right. His energy was so low that I had to replenish mine as I fed him.
"You mean her memories were gone all this time?" Izzy asked, but I didn't listen to the response Bran gave her.
Closing my eyes, I linked our energies, tears still racing down my face. I could feel him grow stronger, as though I was infusing him with the will to live. His fingers twitched and my eyes flew open. After another ten minutes, he squeezed my hand, and then his eyelids fluttered and finally opened.
I smiled. "Hey, Grampa."
"Sweetheart," he whispered. He sat up, reached up, and wiped my cheeks. "Are you crying over this old geezer?"
"No, I have soap in my eyes."
He laughed. "Come here."
I put my arms around him and pressed my cheek on the top of his head. His hair had grown longer and he was a little frailer, or maybe I just wanted to believe he'd missed me and not eaten well. I leaned back and studied his face. Tears s.h.i.+mmered in his eyes.
"Come on." I helped him up, kissed his cheek, and hugged him properly. "I missed you, Grampa."
"And now you're squeezing the life out of me." He leaned back and grinned. "Look at you. You've gone and grown up on me."
"I still need my grandfather to tell me everything will be okay."
"I think our roles are reversed now. I"-he glanced at the others-"we are going to depend on you, and not just to tell us everything will be okay." He cupped my cheek. "You'll make sure everything is okay."
I laughed. "Thanks for the vote of confidence." I glanced over at the Hermonites. "I have to go now. I'll visit. We have a lot to talk about and make it all right." I glanced at the others.
We hugged again, and then he pressed a kiss to my temple. I love you, kiddo.
Love you too, Grampa. It wasn't hard to walk away this time. This was one journey I was making willingly.
When I reached my father and the Hermonites, I waved to the Guardians and knelt by my father's side. Bran sat on a chair behind me, his warmth comforting.
I took my father's hand. He looked so peaceful. I brushed the hair from his forehead and smiled. His energy was reddish with dark spots. I knew what that meant now. He'd done terrible things in the past. Over a century of bad things. But he was making amends. Maybe his energy would be purified. Maybe not. It didn't matter. He was my father and I loved him.
I linked my energy with his and slowly revived him.
He opened his eyes, saw me, and smiled. I grinned back. "You gave me quite a scare, Daddy."
"I didn't mean to." I helped him up. He pressed a kiss to my temple. Not the side Grampa had kissed, or that would have been weird. Then we hugged. "Somehow, I knew you'd find me," he whispered.
"Not without help."
Keeping an arm around my shoulders, he turned and thanked the sisters, Locke, and Lottius before studying Bran. I couldn't tell whether he was pleased or disappointed by his presence. Then he surprised me by shaking Bran's hand. "Thank you."
"We couldn't have done it without her, sire," Bran said.
Finally, Father turned his attention to the Guardians, who hadn't left. though they kept their distance. He gave a stiff bow and Grampa responded. I didn't know what that bow meant, but it filled me with optimism. I waved to the Guardians and watched them teleport. Father's eyes were narrowed on me when I glanced at him.
"Your memories..."
"...are back," I finished.
A flicker of something flashed in his eyes. Wariness or fear, I couldn't tell. To rea.s.sure him, I reached up and kissed his cheek. "We'll talk later, Dad. Right now, we need to go home. I promised our people we'd be back tonight."
A spasm crossed his face, but then he pressed another kiss on my forehead. "Yes, daughter. Let's go home." His eyes went to Bran. "I take it he's coming, too."
I hid a smile. "I don't know. Are you?"
Bran shot me a look that said try and stop me. "If it's okay with you, sire."
"Somehow, I have a feeling the decision is not up to me," Father said. "Come on, children. Let's go home."
Bran reached for my hand and the two of us led the way back to the island.
EPILOGUE.
"How bad was the attack on the Guardian enclave?" I asked.
Bran stopped rubbing my feet. We were in the family room on the couch, my back to the armchair and my feet over his lap. Hanging out with him without worrying about being caught was great. Word had spread fast as soon as we arrived and people had come out to see Father. His rousing speech still made me smile. He was now talking to the guards.
"They destroyed the enclave, but we managed to get everyone to safety."
I frowned. "Cardinal Seth said the staff was killed."
Bran made a face. "There were a few people hurt, but no one died. They're already searching for a new site. No one in the valley will remember them."
Cardinal Seth. Sometimes, I thought he hated me because he needed someone to hate. "So, I'll never see Kylie again?" Kylie was my human best friend. It was strange remembering everything so suddenly.
"You can, but she won't recognize you. Your grandfather erased her memories."
"Do you still hunt with both junior and senior Cardinals?"
"Oh, yeah. Every time I've been away from here, I was out with either the junior or the senior Cardinals. I was pretty careful, which makes me wonder how the dark lords learned about the enclave. I'm sure they're the ones who attacked it."
"Maybe they talked to the Neutrals or... Oh, no."
"What?"
"Lady Nemea went smoky on me two days ago after she drained my energy, and she tried to possess me. Don't worry. She wasn't in for that long. I used whatever energy I had left and ejected her. She must have seen the memories you shared with me." It always came back to me. Death and mayhem.
"Hey." Bran s.h.i.+fted and lifted me to his lap. "You didn't lead the dark lords to the Guardians. Lady Nemea did. She used you." He palmed my face. "Look at me. Stop blaming yourself."
"I know I shouldn't, but-"
He kissed me, cutting me off. When he eased off, he pressed his forehead against mine and smiled. "No buts."
It took me a moment to focus. "Okay."
He chuckled. "You think your father is going to allow me to court you?"
Someone cleared his throat and we looked up. Father stood behind the couch. Bran lifted me off his lap and stood. He bowed. "Sire."
"Go downstairs and see Sir Callum about your quarters. We will talk later. Right now, I want time alone with my daughter."
Bran bowed, glanced at me, and teleported. My father took the side chair. He crossed his arms and studied me, a tiny smile on his face.
"What?" I asked.
"You made me very proud tonight. Several people recorded your speech. The CCs will be added to the library's collection."
I didn't know how to respond to that. "I guess that's okay."
Father leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. "Before you tell me what happened while I was gone, I want to apologize for what happened when I brought you to the island. I didn't know what to do. You refused to eat or talk to anyone. You cried in your sleep, and while you were awake, you fought all my attempts to reach you. I was scared you might waste away."
I winced, trying to see things from his point of view. "I know. I heard you."
"I asked G.o.ddess Coronis to send Archangel Raphael to help. He promised to make you forget your time with the Guardians so your past wouldn't cloud your life with us." He frowned. "I would be lying if I didn't admit I'd hoped to influence your decision, make you choose us, but the more I got to know you and saw how you reacted to our people, the more I realized I shouldn't do it. You are your own person, and you see right from wrong with such clarity that it shames most of us who have been around for decades and centuries. I now know that whatever decision you make, I'll learn to live with it."
"Thanks for saying that, Dad."
"Don't thank me yet. Would I make the same decision again if I were in the same situation? The answer is yes. I wanted you to know me and our people, and I was willing to do anything. But if I'd known what I know now, the kind of person you are and that Archangel Raphael would suck your psi energy and leave you in a coma for months, I would have used a different method."
"Dad, Raphael didn't suck my energy. Lady Nemea did, with the help of Sir Malax." I deliberately left out Solange's name.
He shook his head. "Why would they do that?"
I told him everything that I'd learned about Lady Nemea draining me before I regained consciousness and storing my energy in crystals, being drugged afterwards and drained at least twice a week. I left out Solange's part in all of it and made it seem like Lady Nemea had wanted to control the dagger. As long as there was hope that my sister would come back, her part in all the mess would be her story to tell our father, not mine.
Halfway through my narration, Father stood and paced. Then he sat again, the anguish in his eyes painful to watch. Then I finished with our trip to L.A. and my fight with Lady Nemea. Anger pulsed from him like a geyser.
Silence followed.
"I had no idea," he said. "I've been so blind and focused on the bigger picture that I never saw the havoc those closest to me were causing. Nemea... Malax..." He fisted his hands and I thought he was going to punch a hole through the table. "I trusted them. She spent so many years with Solange, guiding her, being like a second mother. If she poisoned her mind..." He got to his feet. "I must find Solange before it's too late."
I nodded. "Not tonight. We can do that tomorrow. Solange is smart. If Lady Nemea filled her head with lies, she'll see through them." At least, she had been beginning to change.
Father paced. "She can be very temperamental and rash, but she has a good heart. They must pay. Malax and Nemea cannot get away with what they did to you."
"No." I scooted closer and gripped his arms until he focused on me. "We cannot hunt them down."
"They drained your energy for seven months right under my nose. No, ten months. Then she tried to possess you. Do you know what an evil Lazarus possession does to one of our kind?"
"I know."
"Then you must see why they must answer for their crimes."
"They can't, or I'll break a promise I gave our people."
"Lilith-"
"Dad, I promised that I would never hunt down one of our people or send them to Tartarus. The Guardians can deal with anyone who chooses to go after souls; we won't. But if you want revenge, go ahead. Do it. I'm sure it will make you feel better."
He shook his head. "You don't understand."
"Oh, I understand the need to strike back. I felt it when I faced her earlier tonight. But don't you see that everything you or she or anyone else has done, I'm always at the center of it? You held the mortal combat so I could live with you. She summoned the Tribunal so she could get her hands on my dagger. Many of our people died in both cases when they didn't need to. And you know what?" My voice shook. "I feel responsible. Just like I feel responsible for every dead person on Coronis Isle or anytime I have hurt a Hermonite who was not a dark lord. Dante lost the love of his life and ended up in the dungeon because of me. You and Grampa were kidnapped because of me, and Solange, wherever she may be, is probably suffering because of me. If you go after Lady Nemea and Sir Malax, do so knowing you're adding to my guilt. So, you go ahead and get your revenge."
My father stared at me for a very long time, then reached out and wiped tears from my cheek. I didn't even know I was crying. "Okay, sweetheart. You win."
"Really?" I asked.
He nodded. "Just now, as you listed my deeds, I realized just how terrible I must seem to you. Do you think you'll ever forgive me?"
I nodded. "Of course, Dad. We're family. It might take me a century or two, and many uncomfortable dinners with Grampa and the Guardians, but we'll get there." He chuckled. Some of the things he'd done were going to take a little longer to forgive, but he didn't need to know that. "Now tell me what you and Grandfather were meeting about."
THE END.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS.
Thanks go to two wonderful ladies, Jeannette Oatman Whitus and Catie Vergas, who were honest with their feedback and generous with their praises, and supported me throughout the writing of this book. I couldn't have asked for truer friends and cheerleaders.
A shout-out to Julia Hendrix and Cheree Crump for making things a little easier while I write. Best PAs ever. Katrina Whittaker and Jowanna Delong Kestner, thanks for being there whenever I need to pow-wow or just to vent. To my new author friends, Karen Lynch and Melissa Haag, you two have made me feel like part of something special. To my street team, I wish I could name all of you. You rock!
I am especially thankful to Leticia Gomez, my super-amazing agent. Your enthusiasm and hard work made this possible. Special thanks to Kate Kaynak and her team of editors at Spencer Hill Press for making this a reality. To my editor, Rich Storrs. You are gifted and insightful, and patient. Thank you for putting up with my little side notes.
Last, but not least, thanks to my husband and my children for their infinite patience. I could not write without your support.