heart, giving of self, touched by gifts of prophesy, whereas Olivia, her supposed twin, was black of heart, self-centered and touched by madness. He couldn’t force a swallow past the noose of apprehension tightening around his throat.
Olivia gazed about the spacious front foyer with its free-standing staircase and grand piano, exclaiming, “This is really something. No wonder Mama held onto it. Who knew she was one for secrets?” She nodded to Phe. “You should be safe here, out of Daddy’s reach.”
But she’d managed to get inside their tight security without a problem. Not reassured, Kip led her up the stairs of the massive plantation-style home he feared was no longer their refuge. There, they could speak privately in the room their once believed grandfather had used as an office.
Phe turned on their unexpected guest with a fierce, “Does he know you’re here?”
Dark brows rose to blonde fringe. “He, meaning our father? No. I haven’t seen him or talked to him.”
Kip cut in. “Does she know?”
Eyes narrowing at his tone, she answered quietly. “No. She’s not here for you.”
“Would you tell us if she was?”
“I like your family,” Olivia announced casually, turning from them as she did the conversation, fingertips browsing the leather-bound spines of an extensive legal library on one of the bookshelves. “They’re nice, normal, like you, Chris.”
Enough with the nice. “Who had their mother and father murdered at your father’s direction. I won’t let you bring more tragedy into their lives.”
She didn’t flinch beneath that harshly growled warning. “I’m better now. I’m learning to control the things that go on in my head.”
“To her purposes? How is that better?”
Ophelia squeezed her mate’s arm gently. Not discouraged by the jerk of resistant muscle, she skipped over his terse remarks to ask, “Are you happy, Liv?”
The artfully styled blonde head tipped as she considered the question for a measured beat. “Happy? How could I be happy without my other half? I miss you, PhePhe. I have no one there who cares about me, the real me. But that’s my fault. I behaved badly. I did awful things that put you and Chris in danger.”
Kip opened his mouth to argue ‘awful’ didn’t cover the magnitude of leaving mutilated bodies for him to clean up, but respected Phe’s subtle elbow to his ribs and changed the topic.
“What’s she planning here, Olivia? You know she means to kill us all.”
Blue eyes went wide. “No. That’s not true. I made her promise you wouldn’t be touched.”
“Can you say the same for my brothers and their mates? For Dr. LaRoche who helped you recover? For those children and mothers you and Phe helped find better lives? What about them?”
Her mouth pursed in an impatient frown. “We helped them help themselves. We’re not responsible for what happens to them for the rest of their lives.”
“Yes, we are, Liv,” Phe argued gently. “That’s what Mama would have wanted.”
“She wasn’t my mama!” A dangerous glint flashed through Olivia’s glare. “Or yours, either.”
“Who was, Liv? Do you know?”
Taking a calming breath, she smiled, ignoring that tortured question. “I’m not here to fight with you or take sides. I wanted to let you know you’ll be protected. You don’t have to be afraid. You and the children will be fine.”
“Fine?” Kip laughed. “We’ll be prisoners. The children will be reprogrammed into monsters.”
“Like me, you mean.”
His silence spoke that answer.
Olivia reached out to squeeze Phe’s arm. “If you want to keep them safe, keep them here. Keep them close to you. I can’t make any promises for what goes on in the city.”
“What’s going to happen there, Liv? When will it happen?”
She hugged her sister tight, whispering, “I don’t know. But it’ll be soon. Please, please stay out of New Orleans.”
“What about Dad?”
Olivia leaned back, expression tight and fierce. “Let him burn.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Something was off.
Max’s belly clenched into a fist as he forced slow, steady breaths.
He’d insisted Cee Cee wait in the car while he scouted the clinic around the corner. Nothing seemed awry. A typical overcast morning. Beat cops strolling the banquette with cups of brutally strong coffee nodded to one of the very pregnant patrons of Bright Haven as she left the careworn building. Nothing to warrant a ripple of electroshocks to the hair along his arms.
He smiled as his mate, sporting the huge artificial belly, struggled awkwardly to get out of the car. He didn’t dare help. She’d let him drive, unable to fit comfortably behind the Camaro’s steering wheel, and had held her breath the entire time,