Blood Bond

She smiles when she sees me. “Look who’s here, Anna. Your friend Monsieur Chael.” She switches her smile to Chael. “Have you come for the wedding?”

Smooth as only the best charmers can be, Chael has taken my mother’s hand and raised it to his lips. “Of course, Madame Strong. I wouldn’t miss it.”

My eyes widen. You speak English?

I’ve been practicing.

Mom shepherds Chael to the dining room, looking back over her shoulder to mouth at me, “Is he—?”

I bob my head in quick affirmation. Her eyes widen and she opens her mouth again in a silent “Oh my.” But she doesn’t miss a beat; she makes the introductions and at Chael’s acknowledgment of each person in English, Frey’s eyebrows shoot up, too.

Chael turns down an offer of coffee and turns to me. “I apologize for disturbing your breakfast. But I have a message for you from another old friend.”

Dad motions to the kids. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Chael. If you’ll excuse us, we’ll let you speak in private.”

I wait until they disappear through the kitchen door, Mom following, and turn to Chael.

“You speak English?”

“I told you I’ve been practicing.”

“So why didn’t you tell us?”

“You didn’t ask.”

I ball my fists to keep from smacking him. “You have a message for me?”

Frey puts a finger to his lips and bobs his head in the direction of a cacophony of cheery voices coming from the kitchen. “Let’s go outside.”

Good idea. I motion Chael ahead and we step through the front door into the bright sunshine. But before Chael tells us what he came for, he puts a hand on my arm.

“I am sorry about your mother. She is very sick. I am glad you are here. It will make her last days easier.”

My stomach lurches. “What do you know of her last days?”

He touches the tips of his fingers together. “I felt it when we touched. She doesn’t have much time.” He looks at me from beneath a furrowed brow. “If you wish it, I could arrange for her to be brought over. It would be painless. We could spirit her away to another land where she could learn to live as we do. In time, you could be reunited.”

I see Chael in a different light. For the second time, he is offering me a gift—he’s offering to save my mother. There is sincerity in his words just as there is sympathy in his thoughts. In his way, he is trying to be kind.

“I appreciate the gesture,” I say, finding I mean it. “But my mother believes in a god that offers her a different kind of eternal life. She is at peace.”

Frey takes my hand as he directs his words to Chael. “You said you could ‘feel’ that she hasn’t much time. How is that possible?”

“In my mortal life, I was a healer,” Chael replies. “I was born with the ability to diagnose through touch. The gift has become stronger with time.”

We have been strolling toward the vineyards. I wonder why I wasn’t given such a gift. My talents seem to lay in brute strength and physical prowess. Worthless talents. If I could have felt Mom’s illness in December, maybe—

You are wrong. Chael is in my head. You have the ability to lead. That is an extraordinary gift in itself and not to be thought of as worthless. As the Chosen One, you determine whether we live in peace with mortals or war against them. Given the choice, I’m sure your mother would prefer you as protectorate.

I think back to her words last night. In a way, she would.

She said I had a destiny to fulfill.

Frey stirs beside me. “I’m assuming the message you came to deliver is from Steffan?”

His words bring Chael and me back to the reason for his visit. For a moment, I’d almost forgotten.

Chael nods. “Yes. King Steffan is requesting the honor of your company at a small party tonight. If it is convenient, of course.”

Frey and I look at each other.

“If it’s convenient, huh?” Frey is grinning. “Well, Anna, it’s up to you. This will be one of our last free nights before the wedding.”

I release a noisy breath. “Okay. Tell Steffan we accept. Let’s get this over with. Will you be taking us?”

“I will arrange transportation. Shall we meet at the cafe in the village at seven?”

Frey and I agree and walk Chael back to his car—a sleek new Jaguar sedan—brand-new. The dealer plates are still in place. Impulsively, I run a gentle finger over a door panel. “Nice car.”

“I thought you would like it. It is yours to use while you are here if you wish.”

The offer is tempting. But I decline. No way do I want to become further in Chael’s debt even for a small thing like the loan of a car. If, as we suspect, he is responsible for getting the law off our backs in the deaths of Warren and Judith Williams, that bill will be high enough.

Chael has his hand on the door. “Oh, by the way. The dinner is a formal affair.” He reaches in and produces a garment bag from the passenger seat. “For Anna. Steffan wasn’t sure you would have anything appropriate to wear. Except your wedding dress, of course.” He winks at Frey. “We all know the old adage about the groom seeing the bride before the wedding.”

He thrusts the bag at Frey, whose expression is thunderous. He looks past Chael to the backseat. “What? Nothing for me?”

Chael smiles another of his most charming smiles and settles himself into the driver’s seat.

I watch the Jag purr its way down the drive and sigh.

Then I take the garment bag from Frey’s hands. He gives me the evil eye.

“What? I’m curious.” I draw the zipper down and peek inside.

Wow. Steffan has very good taste.

* * *

WE PASS THE DAY IN FAMILIAL COMPANIONSHIP: DAD, Trish, Frey and I. A trip next door to meet the horses (and the neighbors, of course; they are almost as excited about the wedding as my family). A trip to town to the outdoor market for fresh vegetables and bread. A trip to the vineyards to supervise the cultivating of the fields.

Frey and I hold hands, the kids never stop chattering and Dad does his best to appear cheerful. Once, when he doesn’t realize I’m watching, the mask falls. Sadness is stamped in dark bold relief on his face.

I leave Frey’s side and link my arm through his. “You doing okay?”

He squeezes my arm. “I’m fine.”

“No. You aren’t. And it’s all right if you aren’t.”

He smiles. “It’s wonderful to have you here. And the kids. I worry how it will be with Trish when you leave. She puts on such a brave front.”

“It’s not just Trish putting up a brave front,” I remind him. “You’re doing a pretty good job of it yourself.”

“Am I? Sometimes I wonder.” He lets his voice drop.

“When the time comes,” I say, not able to bring myself to say the obvious, “why don’t you and Trish plan to spend a few weeks in San Diego with me? Frey will have to go back to Monument Valley so John-John can finish up the school year. I have plenty of room.”

He squeezes my arm once again. “I’ll think about it. See what Trish wants to do. I thank God every day for that girl. You and she are the only things holding me together.”

John-John comes skipping back to ask Dad a question about the grapes and he lets himself be pulled ahead to where Trish is waiting. Frey steps up beside me. “Everything okay?”

“As okay as it can be.” I put my arms around Frey’s waist and give him a hug. “He’s very glad we’re here.”