Blood Secrets - By Jeannie Holmes Page 0,101
back at her.
“Damian?” Emily asked upon answering her cell phone. “Did you—”
“We’ve got her,” Damian interjected.
She exhaled the breath she felt she’d been holding since Damian first called hours prior to say they had a lead on Alex’s location. Looking over to Stephen where he sat on the edge of Janet’s hospital bed, she smiled and gave them a thumbs-up. Stephen whooped and Janet clapped.
“She and Varik are on their way to the hospital now.”
Emily waved for Stephen and Janet to curb their celebration. “How badly are they hurt?”
“Varik’s cut up pretty bad, possible broken leg.”
“And Alex?”
“There’s no easy way to say this …”
“Is she—” Emily choked back a sob. “Is she dead?”
“She was but we got her back.”
Emily could no longer contain her tears. It didn’t matter that she hadn’t given birth to Alex. She’d raised her from infancy, had been there for every triumph and every setback. All that mattered now was her daughter was alive. “Thank you, Damian, for everything.”
He muttered a response and Emily pressed the button to end the call.
Stephen was at her side before she was able to lay the phone aside. “Mom? Is Alex—”
Emily hugged him, cutting off his question. “She’s alive,” she cried. “She’s alive!”
She wasn’t certain how long the two of them embraced with their tears soaking each other’s shoulder. She released Stephen when her cell phone rang again. While Stephen sought solace in Janet’s arms, Emily checked the caller display on her phone:
INCOMING CALL—GREGOR WAHL.
Emily stood and left the room before answering. “Gregor, I was getting worried. Where—”
“Hello, Emily,” a woman’s voice said.
A chill started at the base of her brain and traced down her spine. “Who is this?”
The woman chuckled, a familiar sound that sent another shiver through Emily. “Come now, Emily. Surely you remember me.”
Something in the laugh, in the musicality of the voice … “Siobhan?”
“So you do remember me. That’s good. That’s very good.”
“Where’s Gregor?”
“I’m afraid your dear Mr. Wahl is unavailable at the moment. You see, he found someone who didn’t want to be found.”
“Siobhan, what did you do to Gregor?”
“What did I do? No, Emily, I didn’t do anything to Gregor, but because you broke your oath—”
“I didn’t! I haven’t told anyone, I swear!”
“Someone did, and since the only people who knew of our arrangement were Bernard, you, and me, that leaves two choices, Emily.”
“No, there has to be someone else.”
“There isn’t anyone else. The pact is broken and now I’m coming to collect what is mine.”
“Siobhan, please—”
The open line suddenly closed and she was gone.
Shaking, Emily pressed the button to power down her phone. Chaos reigned in her mind.
Where had Siobhan been all these years?
What had happened to Gregor?
Who else could know of the pact she and Bernard had made with Siobhan?
What was to become of Alex?
As she headed for the elevators to travel down to the emergency room and await the arrival of Alex and Varik, Emily couldn’t shake the feeling that decisions made in the coming weeks would change many lives.
Forever.
twenty-three
November 24
“A LITTLE TO THE LEFT,” ALEX DIRECTED AND GRUNTED in frustration as Stephen moved her new couch to the right. “I meant my left.”
“Will you make up your mind?” Stephen grumbled. “This thing weighs a fucking ton.”
“Don’t curse,” Emily said as she entered the open front door of Alex’s newly renovated apartment carrying half a dozen sacks of groceries. She dropped them on the kitchen counter and brushed a stray silver curl out of her eyes. “Alexandra, are you sure you want to cook Thanksgiving dinner?”
“Yeah,” Stephen groaned as he set down the couch and then sprawled across it. “Your previous culinary efforts usually ended with a broken smoke alarm and fifty bucks’ worth of Chinese takeout.”
“Shut up.” Alex smacked the back of his head. She dodged his return slap, laughing. “Yes, Mom, I’m sure I want to cook.”
Her mother glanced at Stephen and rolled her eyes before starting the process of putting away the groceries.
Alex ignored the gesture, picked up a stack of books, and arranged them on the shelves beside the fireplace. It’d been over a month since her apartment had sustained heavy smoke and water damage in a fire. Living in a hotel had been challenging, but now she was moving and trying to get her life back in order.
Part of putting her life back together centered on filling the holes in her memory.
When she’d woken up in the hospital two days after the attack, two people had been at her side. She’d instantly known her mother, but