Maggie Shayne - Daughter of the Spellcaster

He lifted the lid to see what was inside.

There was no earthly reason for him to feel as if he’d been hit between the eyes with an invisible blast, and yet that was what he felt at his first glimpse of the blade. It was a simple piece. A double-edged dagger with a gleaming gold hilt. It looked real. Weighed enough, too.

“That’s it?”

“That’s it. He said I was to give it to you in private, and to tell you to keep it to yourself.”

“And why’s that?”

Samuels shrugged, snapping the briefcase closed. “I don’t know any more than that, Ryan.” Then he rose and extended his hand.

Ryan closed the lid of the wooden box and accepted the gesture. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. I’m sure we’ll be in touch. Let me know if there’s anything you need. And again, Ryan, I’m very sorry for your loss.”

“Thanks.”

The lawyer nodded and left. Ryan watched him go. Then he opened the box again, wondering what the hell this was all about.

He went to pick the knife up, but his hand stalled just before making contact, as if he was afraid to touch it. Which was completely illogical. And then his palm started tingling like nothing he’d ever felt before. For just the barest instant the golden blade seemed to glow.

There was a knock at the door, and he slammed the lid as fast as if he’d spotted a cobra inside. Damn, he was jumpy. Emotional overload. A trick of the light. Some weird combination of the two.

“Ryan?”

It was Lena’s voice. He shoved the box onto a nearby shelf and went to open the door. She searched his face, hers full of concern. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Fine. It’s just been… it’s been a crazy day, that’s all.”

“I know it has. For me, too. And the energy out there is just…” She raised her hands to her head and made the universal gesture for crazy.

“Nuts?” he asked.

“Frenetic. And fake, too. A lot of those people are only here for their own ends. To see or be seen, or… I don’t know. Definitely not out of any love for Ernst, that’s for sure.”

“They told you that?”

She frowned, cocking her head and wiggling her fingers in a woo-woo gesture. “Of course not. Witch , remember?”

He almost smiled, because he’d forgotten how expressive she was with her hands. And her face. She could never hide her feelings, and he didn’t think she saw much reason to try. “Right.”

“I’ve got to get back home, Ryan. I don’t like it here anymore, and it’s upsetting the baby.”

He nodded, stepped aside and took her arm, drawing her back into the den. Then he closed the door behind her. “We can slip out the back, and I’ll drive you to the hotel and your car.”

“I took the bus.”

“The bus? ”

“Don’t act like I just said I rode a donkey. For crying out loud, Ryan, not everyone can afford a three-hundred-dollar flight for a day trip.”

“No, not everyone. But you can. Now.”

She met his eyes, and hers flashed with what looked like anger. “I will never touch a penny of that money. It’s all going to fold right back into itself for the baby. I don’t want it, didn’t ask for it and don’t need it.”

“All right, all right, I wasn’t insulting you.” Damn, she was sensitive.

She shrugged and turned away.

“Listen, I want to talk to you.”

“About what?”

“Bahru. I don’t trust him, Lena.”

“You never have. But I thought his insistence that he didn’t want any money from your father’s estate might have convinced you that he was sincere.”

“His insistence wound up getting him an income for life and a free place to live. Not to mention a VIP pass into the life of my child, who, in case you forgot, just inherited a fortune.”

“ Your child?”

“ Our . I meant our .” He turned away, pushing one hand through his hair, knowing he was blowing this utterly.

“You’re jealous, aren’t you?” she asked.

He gave her a don’t-be-ridiculous look, but she went on anyway. “You’ve always been jealous of Bahru. And no wonder, Ryan. Your father abandoned you but took Bahru with him, and that was wrong of him. As much as I loved the man, I know that was wrong. But it wasn’t Bahru’s fault.”

“I am not jealous.”

“How could you not be? You were eleven. Your mother had just died, and your father left you behind and walked away with his guru. No one in their right mind could blame you for how you felt. And now it looks as if Bahru has once again usurped your place, this time in the life of our child. But you’re forgetting one very important element in all this, Ryan.”

“What element is that?” he asked. He knew he sounded angry, sarcastic, and while he regretted it, he couldn’t seem to help himself.

She walked up to him, slid a hand over his shoulder. “Me.”

Frowning, he lifted his head and turned to face her even though there were hot tears burning in his eyes, tears he hadn’t thought he had in him—not for his father.

“I am not a stupid woman. Nor am I a gullible one. I am, in fact, probably the most powerful woman you’ve ever met in your life—besides my mom, anyway—even though I’m powerful in ways you don’t respect or even understand. But you can trust me on this, Ryan. I would never keep you from being in our baby’s life.”

“I don’t know if I believe that.” How could he believe it? he wondered. “I mean, look at you. You’ve been pregnant for how long? And you never said a word.”

She sighed as if emptying her lungs to the bottom, nodding, not arguing. “I know it looks bad. But, Ryan, I truly had no intention of keeping this from you. I just kept putting it off, and the next thing I knew months had gone by. And the longer I waited, the harder it was. But I always meant to tell you—and I swore I’d do it before she was born. That’s the truth.” She lowered her eyes, then they shot back up to his. Laser beams. “You know I don’t lie.”

He nodded. “I remember that about you.”

“So you believe me, then?”

Long pause, then he nodded. “I believe you.”

“And you can believe me about this, too. There is no way Bahru will ever be more involved in our child’s life than her father. Not unless that’s the way you want it to be.”

His doubts thinned. Her honesty had never been a question to him. She didn’t lie. His tension eased a little. “Thank you for that,” he said.

“I’m not finished yet.”

He gave her a half-genuine smile. “I didn’t think you were.”

“Am I talking too much? I am, aren’t I?”

“You always talked too much. I’ve missed the hell out of it.”

She averted her eyes all of a sudden. Had she felt what he had just then? That old familiar unnh , right between the belly button and points south? “Besides,” he went on, “you’re one of the smartest people I know. So please, keep on talking.”

She got a little pink-faced at the compliment, but then something else replaced embarrassment in her eyes. Sympathy. Like she could feel the unexpected heartbroken sensation in his chest. Like she knew how he was hurting right then. Like she could see it in his eyes, but even more, like she could feel it.

“All right, I will.” Her voice came out more softly than he’d heard it since she’d come back into his life this morning. Maybe softer than he’d ever heard it. “I just have one piece of advice for you today. Don’t let things outside yourself control the way you live your life. Not your father, not all he put on you—the businesses, the money—”

What a notion that was. Not to let the 3000-ton weight on his back knock him flat. If only that were possible.