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“Jackson!” I shout, banging against his back while I hang over his shoulder as he races to the top of the staircase. Jackson’s motion is so fast I only caught a dim view of Keiron’s ominous frame watching us as we exited. I am still in awe at how fast Jackson is able to move. I didn’t realize he was so swift.
Jackson lifts me over his shoulder, allowing me to slide past his chest as he maintains his hold on me, keeping me just shy of his waist. Once more, the rippling current pulsates between us as it has before, and I fear I’m slipping back into his lure. With our bodies so close, it takes all my strength to fight the tempting hold of Jackson Nash.
Thankfully, my thoughts of Dacari are slightly stronger than the budding draw growing between Jackson and me.
Only slightly.
“Jack,” I begin, slowly pulling our bodies apart. His expression is warm, but his deepened gaze seems to peer through me, and I wonder if he can see just how much he’s affecting me. What’s more is I can distinctly tell I’m affecting him just as much. If not more.
“Yes, Damina,” he answers quietly, his eyes locked with mine.
“Dacari. I didn’t get to hear what Keiron had to say about her. We need to go back.”
“No, babe,” Jackson replies, his hands slowly trailing my face. “I needed to get you back up here.”
“But Jack—”
“But nothing, Damina. There’s something you need to see,” he adds with a firm hold on my chin while gazing deep into my eyes. There’s an intent longing in his glare that is hard to miss.
“What do you want me to see, Jackson? What could be so important?” I now know his only wish has ever been for me to see him. Now I do. I do see you, Jack, is what I want to say, but I can’t. Not yet.
My words hang between us as Jackson’s thumb strums my jawline, and I almost wonder if he just wanted to get me alone with him. Once more, his sweet and spicy scent petals past my nose and I instantly feel even my angst for Dacari dissipate. As his lips part, I am unsure if it’s in response to my inquiry or if he’ll plunge his mouth to mine.
At this moment, I almost hope it is the latter.
However, a faux cough interrupts our passionate exchange. “Oh, I’m sure you’ll find this important, Beautiful,” Dalcour’s throaty reply halts the shared kindling fire between me and Jackson. And with the way Dalcour is staring at us, my nervousness rings through my being.
Taking a deep breath, I turn to face Dalcour and distance myself from Jackson. Jackson’s stance instantly mirrors my own as he squares his shoulders in a slightly defensive posture.
“What did you find?” I quickly answer back, doing my best to shake off my longing for Jackson and concentrate on Dacari.
The strained glare on Dalcour’s face doesn’t go unnoticed by either of us. While I can tell he’s upset with us, there’s something more behind his eyes I didn’t think I’d see. Fear. Something has him spooked. I only wish I knew what was causing his distress.
Stepping forward and away from Jackson, I try to keep Dalcour’s sights on me as a grimace mars his otherwise perfectly sculpted face.
“Dal?” I question, softening my gaze, hoping to keep his attention and relieve the tension I sense building within him. Jackson shifts behind me and a low rumbling echoes through his chest, but I keep my focus on Dalcour.
“Hey what’s the hold up? Get up here!” Brae shouts to us from a long corridor adjacent to the stairway.
“Right behind you! Come on guys, let’s go!” I yell back, gesturing for both Jackson and Dalcour to follow my lead.
“Damina, wait!” Dalcour calls from behind me as I follow Brae down the long dark hallway.
“What is it, Dal?” I question as we arrive in a room with small monitors along the wall. Each screen has real-time footage of the mansion, the CC and even Razors nightclub. While I’m surprised to see Razors on the screen, I’m more in awe by the sophistication of the security suite nestled in the hub of the Civility Center.
Dalcour grabs my arm and looks around the room as if he wants to tell me something, but his eyes continue scanning the suite. Again, I can tell he’s bothered. I just wish I knew how to help him.
“So Braelyn, tell us what you found,” Jackson says, walking around Dalcour and me as another small grumble rumbles through him. Jackson’s eyes scan Dalcour’s grip of my arm and a small scowl grows beneath his goatee.
Whatever truce the two men bartered seems to fade.
“Okay, then! Damina, you might want to grab a chair,” Brae sharply announces, breaking through our awkwardness as she grabs a remote and quickly slides a chair in front of me. “I almost wish I knew where to begin, but let’s start with this. Thankfully, I was able to cash in a few law enforcement favors to get this footage. Apparently, the night of the big ordeal we lost all our security footage. Somebody was playing with our blind spots. Maybe even from the inside. Anyway, we were able to get this traffic cam footage near the Riverfront Expressway. Check it out.”
“Damina,” Dalcour calls my name again, tightening his hold on my arm. Looking over my shoulder at him, I see the same worried expression as before. A part of me knows that seeing Jackson and me at a near kiss was probably painful to watch, but I can’t help wondering if there’s something more.
“Quiet, D, Damina needs to see this,” Brae says in a hurried tone.
Dalcour sighs but reluctantly gestures toward the screen. I know I’ve spent too much time ogling both Dalcour and Jackson. I need to remain resolute so we can find Dacari.
In this moment, she is all that matters.
Watching the screen, a large black SUV pulls into the frame and stops just shy of the underpass. The time on the video shows it’s 2:38am. My heart races as I wonder why my cousin would be out at this hour. The footage also reveals a heavy downpour and with the rapid motion of the wiper blades it’s obvious the weather is horrid.
“Whose car is this?” Jackson questions, his tone hard and steady as he keeps his attention on the screen.
“It’s Dorine’s car,” Brae says quietly, gazing back at Dalcour who remains pensive with one arm folded at his chest and his other holding his chin.
“Dorine’s car? I don’t understand,” I reply.
“Keep watching,” Brae mutters.
The SUV remains at the underpass for a full two minutes before a car door opens and Dorine and Padma get out of the passenger and driver’s side doors. Dorine enters the tunnel for a few seconds and shortly comes out on the other side while Padma opens the backseat door.
Then I see her.
Dacari!
A part of me almost expected to see her bound in chains with a bag over her head, but that is not the case. Dacari gives a small smile to Padma when she gets out and Padma gently rubs her back, extending her hand toward Dorine. Draping her coat over her head, Dacari quickly makes her way toward Dorine and they both stand still at the entrance of the tunnel.
“I don’t understand what’s going on! What are they doing with my cousin? Is she under some spell?”
“Damina, I think you and I should talk first in the hall,” Dalcour begins with his hand now resting on my shoulder.
“Talk about what? What do you know? Do you know where she is? Have you known all this time?” I shout back. Inquiry and rage both fuel me, and every ounce of the Altrinion force within me is buckling at the bit.
“Damina, really we should—”
“Stop the tape!” Jackson orders Brae. “Damina, look!” Jackson commands, yanking my arm and turning my attention back at the screen.
The racing of my heart slows to an almost deadly rhythm as my eyes lock to the monitor. With the footage paused, I trail my forefinger along Dacari’s frame, but my sights are now set to another person who now stands opposite Dorine and Dacari.
His face looks familiar but doesn’t. All I can see is a thin goatee and plump raspberry colored lips that almost resemble Dalcour. He smiles at Dacari, but while his smile isn’t as enchanting as Dalcour it is almost just as hypnotic. But it is when I see the haunting deep crimson ring encasing his irises my mind flashes back to the morning, I ran down Dalcour’s hallway when Dacari arrived.
Images of Dalcour with a man in Spanish regent attire and other antediluvian portraits score through my memory in one painful pulse. A sharp current of energy rings through me and panic overrides my intellect as I work to disavow the truth before me.
Decaux Marchand.
Dalcour’s wretched brother.
The one who Jerrica once said wanted to set the world ablaze by unleashing broods of Scourge and Skull upon the earth. The one who gave a deadline to Dalcour to restore the supernatural balance. The one who created a timebomb so deadly even Dalcour Marchand himself chooses to comply.
Why is this man with my cousin?
Why would Dorine and Padma take her to him?
What possible reason would he need or want to see her?
Or she him?
What is the meaning of it all?
A loud shrieking cry echoes through me and a bursting wave of the Altrinion force blows through the room like a violent windstorm.
“Damina!” Jackson shouts my name, making me aware of the effect I’m having on everyone. Even Jackson shields Brae, likely fearful I’ll emit a light too powerful for her to bare as she hides beneath his broad frame. Looking behind me, I notice Dranoel clutching the frame of the door as the gale growing from me pulls him slightly off his feet.
Only Dalcour remains firm. As he gazes at me, his truth becomes plain. He knew this would be my reaction, and he wanted to prepare me. He just didn’t know how. Still, as I search his mind, I now know he is just as surprised as I am to uncover this revelation.
While it does little to appease my angst, it does assuage my rage. At least a little.
As I work hard to pull back my growing storm, I stifle my ire just enough to turn my attention back to the screen. Brae crawls from beneath Jackson’s grip and a part of me is thankful to see him shield her. If I wasn’t furious right now, I’d be impressed.
“Press play,” I command, my eyes once more locked on the screen.
Brae does as I instruct, and I see Decaux extend his hand to Dacari and she places her hand in his. I almost want to stop the tape again. I know if I see an inkling of romantic overtures, I know I’ll blow the roof off this mansion. Blazing heat rises from my skin and Dalcour calls my name from behind, but I don’t turn around. I can’t look at him right now.
Then something happens I did not expect.
Decaux smiles. Wide and big. And while it’s hard to see through my flame-filled eyes or past my anger, I notice his expression is soft and his smile meets his eyes.
Now it hits me. He is happy to see her!
Why?
Dacari lifts to the balls of her feet and squeezes his hands tight and he nods his head down toward her and they both laugh.
What is going on here?
Do they know each other? If so, how?
“Brae, is there any sound?” I snap, snatching the remote from her hand, punching the volume button.
“No, there’s no sound, Damina. Just raw footage, I’m afraid,” Brae answers quietly.
Dalcour grunts from behind me, dragging his feet to pull himself to my side. I sense his aromatic scent waft over me, but this time it does nothing to douse the erratic energy buzzing through me. Jackson also makes his way to my side, yet still keeping his attention on the screen.
Dacari turns to both Dorine and Padma and offers both women a warm smile. Surprise fills me as I watch her smile brighten through the pouring rain. Another truck comes through the opposite side of the tunnel and a man comes from the driver’s side and opens an umbrella to both Decaux and Dacari. Dacari waves farewell to Dorine and Padma and then turns to hug Decaux.
His hold on her is tight and they both linger in the embrace. Taking her face in his hands he plants a small kiss on her forehead, and she throws her head on his shoulder and he smiles broadly, but this time his expression has changed.
Yet, once more, it is not what I would expect.
Keeping his eyes shut as she nestles deeper in the cavity of his hold, he takes in a deep breath and exhales before gazing up at the sky. Then it becomes clear. I know what he’s doing. I know because as of late I’ve done it a thousand times.
He’s trying to fight back tears.
Batting his eyes a few seconds before wiping the corner of his eye, I spy one lone tear drift past his cheekbone. The shimmering gem falling past his face gives it all away. Those are tears of joy! And while I’ve had little experience with it in my life, I know what his tears mean. Although I almost hate to admit the truth.
There’s only been one man to which I’ve had the effect Dacari now has on Decaux. My father. Only a father holds a daughter with such complete love, care, and ardent protection.
This can’t be!
“No!” I breathe out as the revelation becomes clear. Panic and dread fill me once more, but I hardly have air to breathe. While I don’t quite understand how any of this is possible, this wouldn’t be the first time where the impossible laid before me bare.
“Yes, Damina,” I hear my aunt’s small, still voice behind me announce. “It’s true. Decaux is Dacari’s father.”