A Book of Spirits and Thieves - Morgan Rhodes Page 0,94

never share with another, not even my grandfather. But then she learned of his crimes . . . and how he sought to control her, how he sought to control the Kendall line . . .”

“How?”

Her mother didn’t speak right away. She took another sip of her coffee, as if it would give her the strength to continue. “When he learned that Grandma had kept the Codex away from him for all those years, Markus was furious. When she wouldn’t reveal where she’d hidden it, he . . . he killed her. He killed a harmless old woman.”

Crys stared at her, horrified. “Oh my God.”

Her jaw tensed. “When my parents learned the truth, Markus had them killed, too, leaving us orphans when we were not much older than you and Becca. When my grandfather died soon after, of natural causes, he left his fortune and his mansion to Markus. Markus is the one who allowed us to keep the bookshop in our family out of the goodness of his cold, black heart. How could Jackie have continued to love a man like that?”

It was too much for Crys to even attempt to wrap her mind around. The very thought that this was the whole, actual truth made her sick to her stomach.

But she’d asked for this. She’d wanted her mother to open up, to trust her with the whole story. She couldn’t turn back now. She needed to know everything.

“How did Jackie fight the mark?” she asked. “The way you describe it, it sounds like it’s impossible. Was it the same for her as it was with you? Did it not affect her as much as the others?”

“No, it definitely affected her. She worshipped Markus, just as he, for a time, worshipped her. But one thing changed everything and made her marks null and void.”

“What changed?”

Her mother drained the rest of her coffee, her knuckles white. “Jackie became pregnant with Markus’s child.”

“What?” The word came out as a barely audible gasp of shock.

She wouldn’t meet Crys’s gaze directly, instead staring down at her mug. “Along with her condition, her mind just cleared, as if it were a side effect of morning sickness—that is, when one is pregnant with the child of an immortal like Markus. Having that very special new life growing within her was all it took to make her marks null and void. It was at that time that she was able to see Markus as what he truly was. She convinced me we needed to get out while we still could. She had a horrible fight with Markus and he told her to leave, that he never wanted to see her again. Apparently, immortal gods can have their hearts broken.”

“But Jackie doesn’t have any children,” Crys reasoned. What happened to their baby? she thought with a shiver. “Did she miscarry?”

“No, she didn’t miscarry. And she didn’t get an abortion. She had the child. But she knew that if Markus ever found out . . . that he’d take that very special child away to get his revenge on her, on us. The man is capable of anything, and Jackie feared for the child’s safety, being half . . . Markus. Whatever Markus really is, past his lies and manipulations.”

“So she gave the baby up for adoption.”

Her mother hesitated. “Yes.”

“This was fifteen years ago,” Crys said when her mother fell silent again. “Some teenager out there doesn’t realize that her father is an immortal god.”

Her mother didn’t say another word. Her jaw was clenched so tight that it looked painful, her gaze faraway and haunted.

Fifteen years old. With parents like Jackie and Markus, the child would be beautiful. Blond. With dark blue eyes. Someone who might be touched by magic.

Someone who might be affected by magical objects more than anyone else who came in contact with them.

Crys realized with a sinking feeling that she knew someone who fit that description exactly.

“No, it’s impossible,” she whispered. “You would have said something. You would have told her. Told me.”

Her mother remained as still and silent as a statue.

“It—it’s Becca.” The name stuck in Crys’s throat. “Isn’t it?”

Julia began to tremble. “Jackie moved away to stay with friends in Alberta for the length of her pregnancy. When she gave birth, she . . . she named her Rebecca, after our grandmother. We knew we had to come up with a plan since her existence couldn’t stay a secret. Adoption was the only solution, but Jackie refused—flat out refused—to give her away