Page 19 of Fateful Reunion

“Gee, I was just asking.”

She knew why she’d snapped at the young hybrid. She was still annoyed with herself about how she’d handled Charles. His words continued to echo in her mind. I won’t give up until you’ve forgiven me. But how could she forgive him when his actions had caused her years of pain? How could she put that behind her?

Snatching her parka off the hook near the entrance, Roxanne opened the door and stalked outside. Her training kicked in, and she studied her surroundings. The lot the house sat on backed up to a grassy slope that ended in a dense patch of woods on one side of a hill. The front looked out over the houses farther below. It was a good vantage point. Any car coming up the narrow street could be seen from afar.

Roxanne rounded the corner to the tiny back yard, pulling the parka tighter around her torso, though she didn’t really feel the cold night air, not like a human would. Or a witch. Involuntarily, she lifted her eyes up to the second floor where Charles slept. Through the open window, she saw light in Charles’s room. Maybe he wasn’t sleeping after all. Maybe he was just avoiding her? And if he was, could she really blame him? After all, she’d treated him with open hostility even after he’d told her why he’d had to leave her. Any reasonable person would have accepted his explanation. Any reasonable person would have forgiven him by now. But she couldn’t shake the suspicion that he hadn’t told her everything.

She let her gaze roam toward the woods, but all was quiet there. Then she looked back at the window when it struck her. Why was his window open? Her skin prickling with awareness, she turned on her heel and marched back to the entrance.

When she walked inside, she hung her parka back on the hook and looked up the stairs. Was she just looking for an excuse to talk to Charles, or was she truly concerned about the open window? No matter the reason, she set one foot on the first step.

“Going upstairs?”

She snapped her head to the side. Zane had startled her. “Do you have to sneak around like that?”

“I don’t have to.” He managed a half-smile, though barely. “But I like to.”

“Sick, just sick,” she ground out and walked upstairs. “I’m checking on them.”

“Need help?”

“No.”

“You know what you’re doing, I suppose,” Zane said with a smugness in his tone that made her want to smack him.

Yes, it was her fucking business if she wanted to talk to Charles. But did she really know what she was doing? By going to him now under pretense, wasn’t she putting herself in the same situation again? Wouldn’t he see right through her like he always had? Would he see the woman who wanted a second chance, but didn’t have the faintest idea how to go about it, how to leave her past behind and start fresh?

At the door to Charles’s bedroom, she hesitated. Inside her a battle raged.

Don’t let him hurt you again, one voice said. Give him another chance, another argued.

Before she could decide which voice had more weight, she was already knocking at the door. There was no reply.

She turned the knob and opened the door. “Charles…”

Her words died when she saw the empty, unused bed. Charles was gone.

“Shit!”

She rushed out of the room and ran to the bedroom Ilaria occupied. Without knocking she swung the door open. The light from the hallway fell onto the bed, illuminating the young witch. Roxanne rocked to a halt. What she saw was impossible!

Ilaria was lying face down, the covers down at her knees, wearing pajama bottoms and a cotton bra that exposed most of her back. She was hovering several inches off the bed!

But that wasn’t the worst of it. After all, she was a witch, and some witches had impressive powers. But what Roxanne saw on Ilaria’s back was much more frightening. She slammed her hand over her mouth to prevent herself from screaming.

But Ilaria had heard her nevertheless. She suddenly dropped back on the bed, whirled around and shot up, reaching for the sheet to cover her front.

“The mark,” Roxanne murmured, unable to believe what she’d seen with her own eyes.

With the frightened eyes of a doe Ilaria stared at her, scrambling back, pulling her knees up to her chest as if to protect herself.

But Roxanne had already seen what Ilaria was trying to hide. Intricate signs and symbols criss-crossed Ilaria’s back. The design took up nearly half her upper back. Roxanne would have dismissed it as a tattoo had she not seen the symbols pulse like the heartbeat of a living being. Whatever was embedded in Ilaria’s back was alive. Alive and dangerous.

“Don’t hurt me!” Ilaria begged in a voice so faint Roxanne didn’t even know whether she’d heard her speak it or whether she’d simply interpreted the frightened girl’s expression.

The sound of footsteps on the stairs announced the approach of her colleagues. Roxanne flipped the light switch, bathing the bedroom in warm light just as both Zane and Grayson barreled upstairs and appeared behind her.

“What’s wrong?” Zane asked, the tone in his voice indicating that he was on high alert.