Bonnie Vanak - Phantom Wolf

Life wasn’t about control. It was about doing the right thing. Such as following your heart to West Virginia to protect the woman you loved.

“Sorry, Dakota. Got to do this. Give me the location of where my father headed. I’m going after Kelly.”

He scribbled it on a piece of paper. Then Shay gave a wry smile. “Thanks, man. After they kick me out of the navy, maybe we can share a beer sometime.”

Shay thumbed off the phone and headed for the door.

Nestled amid the rugged Allegheny Mountains, the Sweet Valley farm had a rolling vista of meadow and sunflowers. It was a lovely spot to toss down a blanket, enjoy a picnic.

Or hold a gathering of Mages intent on eradicating an entire race.

Kelly parked her rental car out of sight on the roadway and walked along the long gravel drive. Disguised as Sam. She had his DNA, after all.

The white farmhouse had a wide porch filled with rocking chairs. Kelly mounted the steps and didn’t bother knocking.

She opened the screen door and stepped into a living room with plaid furniture, a basket of wildflowers in the fireplace hearth and Colton Shaymore sitting on a chair.

His face lit up with an enthusiastic smile as he stood. Kelly felt ill, knowing the reason.

“Samuel. You decided to join us.”

Kelly shifted back into her true form. “Not exactly...Dad.”

Shock twisted Colton’s face. And fear. Of all the emotions, she’d come prepared for hatred, prepared for him to attack and kill her.

Not this.

A dawning suspicion pushed aside her dread. He was afraid of her. The knowledge fed her strength. No longer would she remain silent, a cowering ghost in his household.

Disgusted, she advanced, watching his wary look. “I came here to settle old scores, Colton.”

Finally, after all these years, she’d dared to speak his first name.

“I found something of yours in your old bedroom, something you probably never wanted back.”

Kelly opened her palm. In it lay the twisted, partly melted remains of Colton Shaymore’s most precious possession.

His wedding ring.

“Your wife used to brag at her tea parties about how you loved her so much you never removed your wedding ring. I found this in the master bedroom, where the fire originated. If you loved your wife that much, you’d leave your wedding ring on after her death. My father never removed his wedding ring after my mother died. But you took yours off.

“You threw it in the fireplace, didn’t you? You lied to Sam. You hadn’t been outside, after all. You were in the bedroom when the fire started.”

Blood drained from his face. Colton stepped back as if she waved a sword. “Stop it,” he said hoarsely.

“What happened that night? Did you see Dad in your bedroom with your wife? Thought they were having an affair, not realizing he was there to clean up the oil he’d spilled on the carpeting?”

Anguish twisted his face. “That bastard stole my wife!”

“And you stole his life, goddammit. Your hatred blinded you to the truth. You’re a Phantom. You can imitate anyone.” Words bubbled up like lava, the pressure on her chest increasing.

“Did you duplicate my father and run out of the house, knowing he’d be blamed?” she screamed.

Silence hung in the air.

“Yes,” he whispered.

Staggering backward, he collapsed into a chair. Colton buried his head in his hands. “Annabelle,” he moaned.

Hatred boiled inside her. She wanted to shake Sam’s father, kick and scream at him for what he’d done. Ruining her life. Ruining Sam’s.

The man, unlike his son, was a coward.

Kelly took a deep breath. Hatred solved nothing, only brought more grief. Something eased deep inside her.

“I should hate you, but I don’t. I’m only sorry you’re Sam’s father. He’s a good person who deserves much better than you.”

It felt oddly freeing to state those words, as if they’d been locked away for a long time. Now she finally believed them.

A noise sounded in the doorway.

Dressed in camouflage, pistol in hand, Sam stood in the room. Shock slackened his jaw.

“You killed Mom and Pete?” he asked in a broken voice. “Dad?”

“Yes.” Tears glistened in Colton Shaymore’s hazel eyes, so much like his son’s. “They’re dead and it’s all my fault.”

Shay couldn’t think. Breathe. He stared helplessly at his father, and the world stopped spinning on its axis.

He must be dead and this was hell, the claws of his father’s words reaching into his heart and shredding it. Blood rushed to his fingers as they loosened from the death grip he kept on his Sig.

Shay holstered the weapon. He’d come here expecting to save Kelly, the headstrong, brave woman who thought she could stop a genocide.

Instead, he walked into a nightmare.

Colton wiped his eyes. “Annabelle, my beautiful Annabelle...I found out she never went to her bridge club. She was with Cedric, that bastard. Christmas Eve I saw them in our bedroom, whispering. They looked guilty as they jumped apart. I tore off my wedding ring and threw it into the fireplace. Picked up the poker, came swinging, shouting he would never take away my wife. Annabelle tried to stop me, but I kept hitting until he dropped. And then I turned and saw Annabelle...lying on the floor, so much blood...”

Shay’s chest squeezed tight. His mother, always the peacemaker.

“It was an accident. I never meant to hurt her.”

“Where is my father?” Kelly whispered.

“Burned. I incinerated his body to erase evidence. And then the fire got out of control. I ran to grab an extinguisher down the hallway and I heard Pete screaming. I tried to go back, but the flames were too much.”

Shay staggered to the sofa and collapsed. I know my heart’s beating because I can feel it pounding against my chest.

Ever since becoming a SEAL, he’d sought to live with honor, fight with honor, hoped to die with honor in combat. Just doing his job, like the other operators on the team.

He followed his father’s example of discipline, courage and control.

His father, whose uncontrollable jealous rage caused the deaths of Shay’s family and Kelly’s father.

For the first time, nothing was worth fighting for. Then he felt the softness of a warm hand sliding into his, the gentle reassuring pressure squeezing his palm.

Nothing worth fighting for? Kelly was. His team. His country.

The future of all Mages.

“Can you forgive me, son?” Colton asked.

Shay found his feet and went to his father, his idol.

For the second time in his life, he hit him. Colton fell down, blood streaming from his split lip.

Wiping away the blood, Colton sat up, gazing at the floor. Shay felt an eerie sense of déjà vu. So many times he’d looked like this, head hung in shame as his larger-than-life father verbally thrashed him for failing to live up to the Shaymore name.

Gods, he wanted to vomit, but he forced himself to swallow the bile burning in his throat.

“Is this why you wanted to kill Kelly’s people? Because you blamed Cedric, thinking they had an affair?”

Colton remained silent.

“They weren’t,” Kelly put in quietly. “Annabelle was aiding my father with an underground resistance to achieve equality for Arcanes. That’s why they whispered. Your wife was a gentle soul who loathed injustice but knew how much you hated my people.”

Blind panic spread over Colton’s face. “No, it couldn’t be. The man organizing us into a coalition convinced me it was Cedric’s fault because he was Arcane. In fact, he is organizing others who believe as I do, others who would eliminate the Arcane threat for good. The cleansing campaign starts tonight.”