I brought the Chronicles with me back to the house, where Embry was waiting on the porch. “What happened?” he asked.
“You lied to me,” I said, torn between wanting to let him take me in his arms and comfort me, and being mad at him for yet another lie after he promised it would be the truth from now on.
“I can count on one hand how many times I’ve seen Gabriel that upset, and I wouldn’t need three of my fingers,” he implied Gabriel was the more pressing matter.
“Cassie was shot in the stomach and jumped off a cliff so the Big Bad wouldn’t get her,” I stood my ground.
“You read it,” he understood, seeing the leather-bound volume in my arms. His body language immediately changed, going from being tense and upset to guilty and defeated.
“I started to. Did you put the truth in the book, or did you lie in the Chronicles as well?”
“Saying she was shot in a mugging isn’t entirely a lie—”
“That isn’t the point,” I cut him off even as he tried to diffuse the situation. “Was Cassandra shot in a mugging or did she jump off a cliff so the Big Bad couldn’t have her?”
“Getting shot would have killed her. She just sped up the process by jumping,” he said as if it was a technicality issue, as opposed to him lying to me about why she died. “It’s all in the Chronicles that you somehow felt you had the right to read.”
“It’s my history,” I defended myself, deciding not to incriminate Terrence.
“And their diaries,” he reminded me. “You can’t just read the Chronicles and assume you know everything. They’re one-sided and…”
“I didn’t,” I argued. “I mean, I did read them, but I didn’t get to the part where Cassie dies yet. I lived it.”
“What do you mean?”
“I was inside her while it happened. I felt her heart pound against my chest, the bullet pierced my back…I was her.” I kept bringing my hand to my stomach, expecting it to come back bloody like hers had, but I was fine.
“Has this happened before?” he asked, concerned rather than defensive.
I nodded before admitting, “I used to think they were dreams, but then I realized they weren’t. I was sure it was them, my ancestors, giving me clues or warning me. Now I think it might be the Big Bad attempting to kill me from a distance.” A shiver ran through me.
“How?”
“I woke up in Gabriel’s arms, because he caught me when I jumped off the cliff,” I explained.
“He was controlling you?” Embry looked horrified.
“No, I was Cassie. She jumped, and I was inside her, so I tried to do the same.”
“Did that happen the other times too?” he asked.
“No, but I haven’t died as the others yet.” When he looked at me, he could tell I was shaken, but it was dying as Cassie and almost dying as me that bothered me more than the lie at the moment. Although that wasn’t cool either.
“It’s okay,” he told me, coming close.
“I don’t want you to calm me down now,” I argued. “I want answers.”
He sighed before admitting, “She left while we were recovering. There was a confrontation and we managed to get the upper hand, but I died and Gabriel got hurt. He was holding on until I came back, so she wouldn’t be completely exposed, but we were in no condition to protect her.” I could hear all of his guilt for not being with her when it happened.
“You were waiting in the cottage at the bottom of the cliff.” I had figured as much, from how fiercely she tried to get to it.
“She could see we were no match for him, even when we weren’t lying half-dead in her Summer house, so she got the idea that giving herself up would somehow protect Cory.”
“It wouldn’t,” I shared. “If they’d gotten her, she and Cory would have died.”
The confirmation of his suspicions, or the fact that I knew this information, surprised him for a moment. That part wouldn’t have been in the Chronicles, as he was never privy to her final conversation. “Almost losing you, then reminding him of how we lost her…” he tried to defend Gabriel’s reaction.
“He needs to grow up.”
“He was never great at dealing with emotions,” he agreed. I gave him the tiniest of smiles, because I knew it was what he was trying for.
“If he doesn’t want anything to happen to me, you guys shouldn’t leave me like that.”
“We needed information and Terrence would have defended you as fiercely as we would,” he stood by their decision. “But we’re going together this time.”
What information?” I asked, but he got a look that raised another question. “We’re leaving?”
“They found us,” he admitted.
“They’re coming here?” My heart beat faster and I suddenly felt sweaty.
“I don’t think they know where the ranch is, but they landed at Houston Intercontinental.” He used what must have been the old name for the George Bush airport, but at least it gave me a better idea of where we were.
“Where are we going?”
“An old friend’s.”
“You have a lot of those,” I pointed out.
“I’m very old,” he conceded with a smile.
“If you can’t defeat him, what are we even doing?” I brought it up even though I knew he didn’t want me to. I assumed that as my protectors, they could protect me, but if the bad guy won every time… “What’s the point?”
“We are keeping you alive,” he said like it was the only justification needed.
“We spend the rest of my life hiding, running away every time he finds us, hoping we never have to go up against him? That doesn’t sound worth it,” I pointed out.
“Your life is always worth it,” he told me. “And we can’t let the alternative happen.”
“What happens if he gets me?” I pressed. “The guy with Cassie said something about my essence?”
“I don’t know exactly what he wants with you Tesoro, I just know it’s bad and that Annabelle let them burn her alive to prevent it,” he said with finality, so even though I had more questions, I went upstairs to put everything I brought into my backpack. I also found room for a misshapen pair of socks I spent an embarrassing amount of time on.
When I got downstairs, the guys were waiting for me in the kitchen.
“You have been a wonderful, yet nervous house guest and it was a pleasure having you.” Terrence got up from his chair to take me in for a hug.
“Thank you, so much. For everything,” I said, trying to let him squeeze the fear and nervousness out of me.
“Don’t forget this.” He picked up the knitting needles and ball of yarn I had been working on.
“I don’t have room for it,” I argued.
“Taking care of great adventures is perfectly fine, but you need to take care of yourself as well,” he insisted.
“Thank you,” I said again, hoping he knew how much I meant it.
“You can come back anytime. We will always have a room for you.”
“Same goes for you at my place, once it isn’t so dangerous,” I assured him.
“You take care of yourself now.”
“You too.” I gave him another hug before going outside and waiting for the guys to join me.
“Where to?” I asked, looking at the expanse of land with only the crop duster and Terrence’s truck to get around.
“The River,” Embry told me, while Gabriel was quiet. Silent was his default setting, but today he was doing it on purpose.
“I don’t see a river,” I pointed out, looking around. I also didn’t remember seeing one from above.
“Didn’t you say you wished we could do more hiking?” Embry smiled, trying to pretend this morning hadn’t happened, as we followed Gabriel to the wooded part of Terrence’s land.
“When I was eleven and we played the survival game in the woods,” I agreed, realizing as I said it that some of the ‘games’ Embry did with me when I was growing up were more like training for this eventuality.
“It’ll be fun,” he said with a smile that told me it would not be fun, but we would get through it and have stories to tell someday.
“What happens to Terrence when they show up looking for me?” I asked, taking a look back at the ranch that was as peaceful and quiet as when we arrived.
“He’ll talk his way out of it,” Embry told me confidently.
“You don’t believe that,” I argued.
“I do,” he said naively. “If he doesn’t, then he’ll wake up in six to twelve hours and we will make it up to him,” he assured me.
“Will he try to get information from them?” I asked.
“I don’t think he has the upper hand against…”
“Not like that, but with his power.”
“Oh…he told you?” Embry was surprised, and I could tell that Gabriel was listening in, even as he walked ahead.
“Angela did. Although I’m pretty sure he used it on me.”
“It’s not like that. A Gift like Terrence’s is always running in the background, whether he wants it to or not. If he encounters someone with mental defenses, he might have to concentrate and work at it, but otherwise it just happens.”
“And you’re sure he hasn’t done whatever he was supposed to?”
“Unless his purpose was to harbor you. We never would have gone to him if he had,” he assured me.