Blood Secrets - By Jeannie Holmes Page 0,39

did I get here?”

“I don’t know, but given the size of the hole you made, I’d say someone pushed you through the Veil.”

“The shadow-thing.”

Bernard frowned. “What shadow-thing?”

Varik summarized the attack in the salvage yard and the subsequent encounters since being forced through the Veil. “Have you ever known of something like this happening?” Varik asked when he’d finished his tale.

Bernard scuffed a toe of his shoe against a rotting log. “No, I can’t say that I have.”

“Why do I get the feeling there’s something you aren’t telling me?”

“Have you ever known me to be less than honest with you?”

“Well, no, but a lot has changed over the years, the most significant being you’re dead.”

“Death doesn’t negate one’s propensity for honesty.”

“It doesn’t mean you can’t fucking lie either.”

Bernard huffed and glanced toward the canopy. “Time is drawing short, my friend. The longer we stand here and discuss this matter, the closer we both come to losing Alexandra.”

Varik raked a hand through his hair and nodded, relinquishing his hold on the argument.

“I’m trusting you to keep my daughter safe once she’s on the other side,” Bernard said as they began the process of climbing out of the hollow. “Now let’s get you home.”

For as long as Peter could remember, the Shadowlands had been his playground. It’d been his second home for over two hundred years, and he’d only encountered a handful of others with the ability to part the Veil and enter this special place, even fewer who could access the Hall of Records.

It was that ability that had first drawn his attention to Alexandra. Even though she was only a child, he’d recognized the potential buried deep within her, a power to rival his own—a true soul mate. He’d wanted to guide her, instruct her in the limitless power that was hers to control.

He’d wanted to teach her.

To care for her.

To love her.

To possess her.

But Bernard had barred his way, thwarting his every attempt to reach her, until he suddenly disappeared.

Peter had rejoiced in her father’s death. Because Alexandra had grieved, he made attempts to ease her suffering, wanting only to comfort her. He left offerings for her—food, money, toys—mostly small things that would ensure her health and happiness, but still he was forced to keep his distance.

With Bernard’s passing, a new protector had risen in his stead. For years, the Dark One—named so because Peter never knew his true name until now—pursued him before assuming a guardianship role for Alexandra, never allowing him close to her. So Peter watched her from afar as she left childhood behind and grew into womanhood, never achieving her full potential.

Then the Dark One—Varik—wooed her, corrupted her.

That would change.

Soon she would come to him.

He would purify her, rid her of Varik’s influence.

He’d already begun the process. Using the blood-bond between them, he’d attacked Varik, blasting him through the Veil in an effort to separate them and sever the bond. He hadn’t anticipated Alexandra pursuing them and attacking him to save Varik.

However, after their struggle in which she tumbled down a hill, he could sense that she was no longer in the Shadowlands. She had returned to the physical world, leaving Varik behind. It would’ve been easy enough to keep Varik’s consciousness on this side until his physical body died.

If Bernard hadn’t chosen that moment to intercede.

Once again, Peter was forced to retreat. He’d fled to the Hall of Records and searched for his rival’s records. Though he hadn’t much time, he’d learned enough to know Varik was a danger to Alexandra. The sooner he destroyed the bond between them, the better it would be for her.

Breaking the bond wouldn’t be easy. The first step was drawing Alexandra to him. Preparing the path for the ritual that would bring her to him was exhausting but vital. If the proper connections weren’t made at the precise moment they were required, the ritual would fail, as it had in the past.

He wouldn’t fail this time. Not when he was so close.

As he sat in the center of his ritual circle, mentally rehearsing the complicated ceremony, a shudder passed through the space around him, and the aroma of jasmine and vanilla filled the attic.

His pulse leapt. He opened his eyes, scanning the room, but nothing moved.

The scent intensified, and he knew she was here.

She’d finally come to him of her own volition.

Expanding his senses to encompass the entire house, he rose and gleefully began his search.

“Lieutenant!” Tony Maslan’s call pulled Tasha from the dream she’d been having.

Blinking away the