Magic Side: Wolf Bound Complete Series: Books 1-4, page 100
“I was desperate. I was trying to deal with becoming a werewolf. I asked you about my mother over and over, but you were hiding something. I was looking for anything I could find about her, anything to explain what was happening to me. I didn’t expect to find…werewolf profiling.”
Her signature crackled. “You shouldn’t have gone in there. You had no right.”
Unwilling to back down, I balled my fists in frustration. “You should have told me the truth about my mother when I asked. You had no right to keep my heritage from me. What I did was wrong, but that doesn’t make your lies or stacks of dossiers any more ethical.”
Laurel pressed her fingers to the bridge of her nose and slumped back against the wall. “I know.”
A long, stiff silence dragged out between us before she finally sighed and looked out the window. “It doesn’t make me any less culpable, but your grandfather collected most of that information. Knowledge is power, and I’ll admit I’ve made use of it, even added to it. But only ever to protect our family and our interests. Your grandfather had different intentions, but I swear to you, I’m not him.”
My stomach twisted, and bile rose in my throat. He’d died fifteen years before, but I’d met his ghost lurking in her office. He’d called me a dirty little half-breed snoop, claimed that Laurel would skin me alive if she caught me in there. “He hated my kind.”
Laurel’s jaw stiffened. “Your grandfather…he is part of the reason we have the reputation we do. He was a loyal but hard man. And when it came to the werewolves, he was bitter, vengeful, and filled with hate. If he could have wiped the Laurents out, I think he would have.”
I was glad I’d never met the bastard while he was alive. I dug my nails into my palms. “Why? Why do we have this feud?”
She looked at me with broken eyes. “The death of his brother. Before that, the death of a Laurent, and before that, a LaSalle. It goes a long way back.”
A cycle of hate repeating over and over. Like the death of Jaxson’s sister, Stephanie, and the plans on Billy’s wall to kill our whole family.
Laurel stepped up and took my clenched hands. “But I’m not him, Savannah. Your mother changed that. Your birth changed that. I had to change.”
“He was why my mom and dad left,” I whispered.
She nodded, tears brimming in her eyes. “In part. If he knew that your father had fallen for a wolf, he’d have hunted them both down.”
“I know. I found the photo album on the shelf. And the letter from my dad.” I fought back my own tears and anger. If it weren’t for my bigoted grandfather, life might have been different for them. For me.
She worked her hands into mine. “It was the wolves, too. Your father was just as afraid of them as he was of your grandfather. Maybe it had something to do with this prophecy. All I know is that this feud took my brother and sister-in-law from me, and I thought it had taken you, too. I hated them all for that.”
“If this feud took so much from you, and if you’re not like your father, then why do you still have stacks of files on werewolves? Why can’t you just let it go?”
Laurel stood and fetched a copper teapot from the cupboard, and began filling it. She set it down hard on the gas stovetop and leaned against the oven. “Insurance. The pack hasn’t been kind to us, and the Laurents have been at our throats since our family settled on this island. Jaxson’s father, Alistair, is much like mine. Though you may know Jaxson, so do I. And I’m not certain that he’s that much different from his father.”
Frustration tore at me. I didn’t believe that. I’d never met Jaxson’s father, but I knew who Jaxson was. Every day we’d spent together, I’d seen more and more of his soul.
“I don’t care what you think you know. He’s brave, he’s loyal, and yes, he can be ruthless. But he’d do anything to protect his pack, even swallow the death of his own sister.”
Laurel’s shoulders wilted. “That was a horrible accident.”
Unable to face that story right now, I shoved it out of my mind and crossed my arms. “Ending this feud would protect our family and theirs. So end it.”
Laurel gave me a mournful look. “You’ve changed so much since you first showed up on our doorstep. If you can do that, if you can adapt to all this madness, then maybe there’s some hope for the rest of us.”
I opened my mouth, but at that moment, Casey trudged into the kitchen halfway through a giant yawn. He patted me on the head as if I were a favorite family pet. “Hey, Cuz.”
Casey made his way around me and pulled a box of Count Chocula out of the cabinet. He paused midway through setting it on the counter and looked between me and Laurel. “Wait, what are you doing here? Did you two make up?”
Laurel, her sad expression hidden at the first sight of him, gave him a kiss on the cheek as she fetched two mugs and a box of loose-leaf tea. “We did. Or we’re getting there, I hope?”
She glanced at me, and my chest loosened.
Laurel accepted what I was and had forgiven me for what I’d done. She loved me, and she was willing to change. We might not agree on everything, but we’d cleared the air, at least. “We’re all good, but I’d better get going.”
“By the way, did you ever figure out what that key I gave you was for?” Laurel asked as I turned to go.
The key. Damn, I’d forgotten about it. My mother had given it to Laurel, and Laurel to me. I rummaged through the coin pouch of my wallet and pulled the tiny gold-plated key out. It was a peculiar shape, with an ornate G on it. “I haven’t had a chance. You have no idea?”
Laurel shook her head. “It was just for safekeeping. She didn’t say.”
“That thing?” Casey asked through a spoonful of cereal. “That’s a key to a safety deposit box.”
Laurel and I looked to my cousin, who stood there with mussed hair and a dribble of milk on his chin.
“What?” he asked, suddenly confused.
I held the key up. “You’re telling me that this key is to a lockbox?”
He nodded and shoveled another spoonful of sugary cereal into his mouth. “Yeah. That’s what I said. That one belongs to Gold Trust Credit on Sixty-Third and Razorback.”
Holy crap. My cousin was either a genius or full of shit.
Laurel folded her arms over her chest and lifted a brow at her son. “And how do you know this?”
“Because I have boxes all over town. I use them for…uh, you know. Keeping stuff?”
I wrapped my arms around Casey and gave him a squeeze. “I love you.”
His spine straightened, and he looked down at me suspiciously. “Who the hell are you, and what have you done with my cousin?”
10
Savannah
Thirty minutes later, I climbed out of my Fury and glanced up at the golden sign fronting Gold Trust Credit.
My senses were instantly alert. The familiar scent of pine and melted snow sent shivers skating up my spine. Jaxson.
Searching the street, I spotted him strolling down the sidewalk toward me holding two takeout cups from Magic Bean. It had only been a few hours since I’d seen him, but suddenly, it felt like days. I tried to ignore the way he made me melt, but the strength of his stride and the way his jacket stretched over those broad shoulders reminded me of the way we moved together. Just his scent sent shivers running somewhere else.
A knowing smile tugged on his lips as he noticed my interest, and I blushed. Yeah, werewolf senses could be a real pain in the ass.
He handed me a cup, and my mouth watered at the rich scent of cardamon and cinnamon. “Thanks.” I took a sip of the sugary mocha latte and sighed with relief. I was running on fumes.
When I’d told him about the key, he’d insisted on meeting me here—something about not wanting to leave me alone, though I suspected that was as much for his benefit as mine. I quickly explained the key situation as we headed up the sidewalk.
“So Laurel has no idea what’s inside the lockbox?” Jaxson asked as he opened the glass door for me. A bell dinged as we entered.
“She has no clue.”
Bank tellers sat behind glass windows, while at least five tiny, winged creatures flitted about behind them carrying receipts and wads of cash.
“What the…?” I watched as one of them deposited a stack of hundred-dollar bills into the palm of a woman with broad-rimmed glasses. She didn’t even look up. She just took the cash like it was no big deal.
Jaxson chuckled beside me. “First time seeing an imp, I take it.”
“I think I saw some at the Archives, but these are so tiny.” They were no bigger than a foot and cute as all hell. “Can I have one?”
He grunted. “Imps are more like assistants than pets. They’re single-minded and ornery and best suited to busywork. You’re better off getting a dog.”
One of the imps glared at him but went about its task.
We waited in line behind a woman who had a small child next to her. He was holding her hand, and he turned his head and looked up at me. I wasn’t good with kids, but this one was cute. I smiled at him. He blinked, and when he opened his eyes, they were no longer blue but a pale green with vertical pupils.
I frowned, and a lizard-like tongue darted out of his mouth. I must have gasped or had a horrible look on my face, because his mother glanced back at me and gave me a death stare.
Jaxson cleared his throat as the woman towed her son up to a teller.
Embarrassment burned my cheeks, but a teller about my age waved us over. Every time I started to get comfortable in Magic Side, it peeled back another layer. It felt like home, but I had a feeling that this pattern of awkward discovery was going to stick with me for a long time.
“Hi. I’m here to collect my belongings from this box,” I said, and slid the key to the man. His signature smelled like popcorn, but I couldn’t find any indications as to what kind of Magica he was.
“Name?” He examined the key and looked up at me.
“Savannah Caine. Though it might be under LaSalle.”
His fingers flew over the keyboard in front of him, and his eyes darted to me when I said LaSalle. “Do you have any identification?”
I pulled out the ID card I’d gotten from the Order when I’d first showed up in Magic Side. He examined it, narrowing his eyes at the photo and then at me.
Seemingly satisfied, he slid the key, ID, and a golden token under the glass partition and said, “Box one-oh-six. Take the hall on your right, first left, five rows down.”
“Well, that was easy,” I muttered, but stopped short when we came face to face with a giant vault door. An enormous horned demon guarded the way. His signature smelled of ash and blood, and I sucked in a sharp breath.
He extended a clawed hand and spoke in a voice that was like grinding stone. “ID and token please.”
I carefully placed it in his palm. He studied both, returned my ID, and slid the coin in a slot on the door.
The handle began to spin, and a burst of steam shot out from small vents in the steel plates. It swung wide, and the demon ushered us in.
Silver lockboxes lined the walls from floor to ceiling, and a narrow set of stairs on wheels was parked at the end. We took the first left, and I counted five rows down, dragging my finger over the black numbers inscribed into the boxes.
My heart pulsed harder, and I swallowed. “Thanks for being with me, Jax. I don’t have much of anything that belonged to my parents, and I’m a little nervous to see what it is.”
“Of course. I figured I’d better be here in case they denied you access. I wouldn’t want you to try robbing the bank.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “That was almost a joke.”
Finally, I found it: one hundred six. It was no bigger than a shoebox.
I fitted the key into the brass hole and turned until it clicked. Pulling the small door open, I peered inside.
Excitement thrummed through my veins as I reached in and withdrew two white business envelopes. The thickest one was full of crisp hundred-dollar bills. I sucked in a breath. There had to be at least fifteen grand here, if not more. “Holy shit.”
Jaxson whistled low.
I flipped open the other envelope and pulled out several folded sheets of paper. A letter—and written in my mom’s handwriting.
Savannah –
If you’re reading this, then something has happened to us. I’m so sorry, honey. We always wanted you to have a “normal” life, but sometimes, the fates have other plans. You were the best thing your father and I ever did, and we will always love you.
Trust your aunt Laurel. She sacrificed more for us than anyone. She will explain everything. Just know that what we did, we did to protect you. You might be angry, but one day, I hope you’ll understand what it was all for.
Don’t let anyone push you around. You’ve always been stronger than you realize, and though the fates may have set the course for things to come, you will always have the power to fashion your own path. You’re an artist, after all.
You have family in Silverton, from my side. When you’re ready, I know your grandfather and cousins would love to meet you. He was so excited when you were born, and his heart is like yours. Go to him and reconnect with your roots.
Take care, honey. Love you to the moon and back.
Mom
My eyes blurred, and I swallowed hard as I unfolded the other sheet. On it was my grandfather’s address in Silverton, Colorado.
Jaxson gently rubbed my back. “I’m so sorry, Savy.”
I nodded, and a tear slipped free. “What would have happened if I’d never come to Magic Side? If I’d just kept on driving? I’d never have any of this. Not Laurel. Not this letter. Not my family. Not you.”
“I would always have found you.” He pulled me to his chest, and like a dam breaking, my tears finally fell. He held me tight and pressed his lips to my forehead. “You’re right where you belong, where you’re loved. And safe.”
His words seemed to crack my chest further open, and by the time I was finished crying, Jaxson’s shirt was damp. I wiped my eyes and nose, feeling a rush of embarrassment. “Sorry. There’s just so much to deal with, so much of the time.”
“You’ve got nothing to be sorry about. I understand.”
I dried the last of my tears with my wrist. “Let’s get out of here.”
“Where do you want to go?”
“I don’t care. Somewhere that’s not a wall of boxes. Somewhere quiet, somewhere I can breathe without a demon looking over my shoulder.”
He nodded. “I know just the place.”
11
Savannah
We loaded up in Jaxson’s truck and wound our way through Magic Side as a thousand thoughts swirled through my mind. My parents. My family. My wolf and the Dark God hanging over it all.
Twenty minutes later, we parked in a lot at the edge of the shore. A narrow channel separated us from a small, wooded island.
Jaxson didn’t explain, and I didn’t press him. I was too exhausted, so I just followed him over an ornate wooden and iron bridge that looked like it belonged in another time.
As I reached the middle of the bridge, I stopped short. Something had changed. The island, with its trees and flowers, was still the same, so what was it?
Then I heard it: stillness. A silence that was like your first breath of air after a dive. I glanced over my shoulder just to make sure the city was there.
It was—but the sound of traffic and screeching breaks and sirens were gone, as well as the eternal rumble of city life to which I’d acclimated since leaving Belmont.
It wasn’t that everything was completely silent—quite the contrary. Birds argued in the trees overhead, and the buzz of bugs filtered through the tall grasses. The leaves, which were beginning to turn orange, fluttered in the wind
But that was it. No city. No incessant gray noise.
A surprising spark of anger flickered in me. Why couldn’t the world be like this all the time?
“Welcome to the Garden of the Wolves,” Jaxson said, a soft smile tugging at the edge of his lips. “There’s a magical barrier around the island that keeps the city noise out. It’s a good place to reflect—my favorite place in our lands here.”
Breathing deeply, I nodded. “I think I needed this.”
I followed him along a path lined with wild, flowering weeds that were several feet tall and resplendent in purple, white, and yellow blossoms.
The path led to an old grove of trees. Tucked away, beneath the shade of the canopy, sat an ancient, weather-beaten mausoleum with a peaked roof, stone pillars, and a pair of ornate metal doors. Beneath the arch, the limestone blocks had been engraved with the name Laurent.
Jaxson sat on a little stone bench. “I come here when I need a quiet place to think or I want to be near my sister. Sometimes, I can almost imagine her listening.”
I sat down beside him. “We’ve never really talked about her, Jax.”
“We don’t need to,” he growled, then his expression softened. “This is just a good place to come to wrestle with the ghosts of our past.”
My parents. The promise of family in Colorado.
I sat with him quietly for a long time, savoring the soft sound of the birds and wind rustling the leaves. Savoring a single moment free from the Dark God and the chaos of the world falling apart outside.
I linked my arm through his. We were an island for each other in the midst of it all.
At last, Jaxson bowed his head. “When Stephanie died, my father lost it. He blamed me. And when he couldn’t handle the pain anymore and fell apart, I had to pick up the pieces. I never had any time to grieve her death, and eventually, too much time had passed. So I just come here, never certain of what I should say or how I should feel.”
I could see his grief, all bottled up. It was in the tension in his back and the coil of his muscles. And I saw it in every action he took—his rage, his anger, the ruthlessness with which he led the pack.
Haunted by guilt and grief and longing.
