The Fallen One (Sons of the Dark Mother, Book One) by Lenore Wolfe Page B

gangster’s
house!”
    “ What?” She nearly came off the
bed with this “ What does an old gangbanger
have to do with this ?”
    “ I have reason to believe it was
your father who sent them back, in spades, for me—all those years
ago.”
    She was back to strangling.
“No!”
    But he wasn’t finished. “And
that…,” he stumbled.
    “ What?” she did come off the bed
this time—for the second time that night—and for the second
time—the news nearly drove her to her knees.
    “ I think your mother tried to stop
him….”
    She screamed at this. She screamed
because she knew it was true. Memories of her parents fighting came
flooding though.
     
    He kept her from hitting the floor
for the second time that night. He laid them both back upon the
bed—soothing her. It was too much information. He hadn’t wanted to
give her any of that information—hadn’t wanted her to ever know,
but he’d had no choice. She was in too much danger.
    But it was too much information for
her to take in all at once.
    He watched the scenes that played
through his head, like a movie, as her thoughts went from one
memory to the next. She remembered her parents—fighting. Only, this
time, she could hear some of the words.
    Her mother was telling her father
he was a traitor about something. She couldn’t imagine why her
quiet, loving mother would ever call her father a
traitor.
    He was telling her that she didn’t
know what she was talking about. What could she possibly know about
the politics of their people? What could she possibly know of what
went on between their two races? He was telling her that she was as
foolish as all the others—that if they all had their way, they
would give up their power into the hands of a silly
prophecy.
    She screamed at him, telling him
that he was betraying her family—that he was betraying their
friends—that he was betraying his own best friend.
    But he didn’t care. Her loving father didn’t care. She hadn’t understood what the implications of
their words meant. She hadn’t understood
what they meant !
    And then, when her parents had
disappeared… she’d buried all the memories.
    She cried silent tears of grief.
Everything she believed was an illusion. Her quiet idyllic
childhood was an illusion. Her loving parents were also an
illusion.
    She wanted to escape—and did
so—into sleep.
     
    Justice got up from the bed and
covered her up. She had fallen into a fitful sleep. Tomorrow she
would have to receive the rest—as if she hadn’t had to receive
enough tonight. The knowledge that everything you thought you knew
had been a lie can test the depths of your abilities to stay
centered—even perhaps to stay sane.
    But tomorrow she would also have to
accept the knowledge that her life, as she knew it, was forever and
irrevocably changed.
     
     
     

Chapter Twelve
    The Killer
     
    Justice had strong coffee, and
bacon and eggs waiting for her by the time
she had pulled herself from her bed, showered, and made it into her
tiny kitchen.
    She looked around. He had packed
things up in her room. He had done so down here too. She had the
uneasy feeling she hadn’t heard everything— yet.
    “ Am I going somewhere?”
    He nodded, setting down his cup.
“You are going to take an indefinite leave of absence. And I know
you won’t put us both through the trauma of trying to hang onto
your life.” He frowned at her. “I’m sorry, Jes. You know this must
be.”
    It was funny how bossy a man could
be when he was afraid that the woman he was so desperate to protect
was going to fight him every step of the way. She didn’t put him
through any more. “I know, Justice,” she whispered. “I’m stubborn,
not stupid. It would be stupid to paint myself as a target to this
enemy.”
    He let out a visible sigh of
relief. He’d clearly thought she was going to make this
difficult.
    “ Where will I go?”
    “ To live with one of my
sisters.”
    She nodded and almost grinned. He
had never before