CHAPTER FIFTY


I had a journal when I was little. I wrote the worst of the worst in there. I
wrote about things that no child should know, much less be able to put them to
words. I wrote about my mother's rape. I wrote about her boyfriends. I wrote
about how they tried to visit me at night. I wrote about how Krein would sleep
on my floor.


He protected me.


He kept the monsters away.


My journal saw me through the worst times. That's what it was there for.
During the best of times—I was too busy to think about writing in it. I'd much
rather be out playing and laughing.


The journal was tucked away, for another time.


That time always came.


And it came frequently.


More frequently than for the normal children.


Even though, at that time, I was one of the normal kids—you know the ones—the
ones with homes, I still knew I was different. I didn't think the girl from next
door had a daddy who made her mom cry out in pain. And then when he left, I
doubted that my neighbor had to worry about which new boyfriend would get up for
another beer and when.


I worried about that.


I worried if they got up for a beer before midnight, when Krein would always
slink home, or if it was before then.


Krein wouldn't sleep on my floor until after he got home.


I wasn't protected until then.


For those times—that's when I had my journal.


I wrote and cried enough on those pages. I never thought that journal would
come back to me.


It had. And was it ironic, that it was my adult-monster that held it in his
hands? He had found it for me.


My monster, when I was an adult.


My eyes fell on the book once again as we drove to Cherry's house.


I'd left, seemingly forever ago, but I knew it had only been a few
months.


My life had been a constant race since I'd left, but to them—I was just
gone.


These were people that were my family. Or—I considered them family.


I had once thought about leaving without saying goodbye, but Brandon talked
me out of it.


Remember Brandon? I sure didn't. It was too long ago, but he'd been the guy
who had loved me and bought me a first-class ticket to New York. He drove me to
Cherry's, for my last goodbye. I saw Gray then. I had tiptoed inside and tiptoed
back out.


Cherry had held her palm against the window. She had whispered to me, 'Come
back.'


Well…I was, but she wouldn't want me back anymore. She would want me
gone.


I couldn't do that. I couldn't undue what had happened.


I just didn't wish that she would take that into consideration.


If I was a mother, if I was a mother whose child was missing—because of his
aunt's sordid history—I'd blame that aunt. I'd condemn that aunt to hell and I'd
stand, fully justified, as I spat on her.


It's what I expected from Cherry and every bit of was deserved.


I was bringing hell to their home.


Hell had already visited, but I was just giving it a name. I was giving them
an explanation.


How could one person do that? Give hell an explanation?


Jace glanced sideways at me.


After we left the warehouse, we'd gone back to our hotel room.


We both showered, but sleep wasn't going to come to us…and I didn't want
Cherry to go long after she found a vacant crib.


I owed that much, at least, to her.


Jace stopped and got us both coffee. I never touched mine. As he walked back
outside with our coffee—I had my first glimpse into his life. I realized, only
scantily, what he must've felt like so young ago.


He lost his brother because of his life. He sent Taryn away because of his
life. And it seemed like everything he touched was destroyed—I understood how
damning that was, how hard it was to keep walking straight ahead when you knew
that you only had the worst kind of news there was.


"How do you do it?" I asked, hoarse.


"Do what?" Jace asked, automatically, but he caught my eyes and knew what I
meant. He sighed and said, somber, "You just…you have to fight for your soul,
Maya. That's what it's about. Your soul."


"He was taken because of me." I whispered. Stricken.


"No. He was taken because of Marcus. He's the monster, Maya!" Jace insisted,
fiercely. He pulled the car over quickly and was at my side. He forced me to
look at him and seethed, "He did this! Not you!"


I shook out of his hand and cried out, "I did. It's because of me! Gray is
gone because of me!"


"Maya!" Jace cried out.


I shoved him away.


He shoved back and pinned me in place.


We were always doing that.


When one of us didn't want to deal with the other, the other just made
them.


Jace slammed me back in place and said, forcefully, "It is not your fault.
You cannot blame yourself! Do you hear me!?"


"Yes!"


"No! Do you hear me!? It is Marcus who deserves to rot in hell. Not you! Do
not think that. Do not sit here and let your mind blame who's the easiest to
blame! It is not your fault! Hear that if you're not going to hear anything
else! Hear that!!"


"He's gone." I choked out. "They're both gone!"


"Because of Marcus! Not you! Tell me!" He ordered, briskly.


I shook my head and turned away.


Jace wouldn't allow it. He ripped my face back to his. He sought my eyes and
pressed, "Tell me!"


"I can't!" I yelled. "I can't say that!" I pushed his hands away, "Don't make
me."


Jace expelled a ragged breath.


I looked away.


After awhile, a moment suspended in time, Jace turned back and drove
again.


Quietly, I murmured, "What kind of kid would he have been?"


"Maya!"


"Marcus." I told him. Haunted. "What kind of kid would he have been? You
know, if he'd been raised by someone who wasn't…"


"Sal Galverson." Jace bit out. I saw his knuckles clench on the steering
wheel.


Marcus was my demon, but Sal had been Jace's. And Jace had already killed his
demon.


"Don't think like that." Jace murmured, huskily.


"Why not?" I laughed, bitterly. Hollow. "It's the king of 'What ifs', isn't
it? What if Marcus had been raised right? What if Sal Galverson had been raised
right? Evil breeds evil, isn't that what you said before."


Jace relaxed, slightly. He murmured, "I don't know. That's not our fight.
That's all I know. It's not our fight."


I saw the clock switch. It was now seven in the morning. I said faintly,
"They're waking up now."


I'd woken them up last time. I rang the doorbell and woke them both up.


Brandon had waited in the car and I told Cherry that I needed to find Krein's
best friend.


Well, I had. I was coming with him, but Cherry wouldn't be happy. She'd be
anything but.


"They're going to hate me." I murmured.


Jace sighed and said, remorsefully, "They can hate me. It's not your
fault."


I glanced up and saw his hardened side-profile.


Faintly, I murmured, "If I can't blame myself, then you can't blame yourself.
Rules are rules."


Jace smiled, briefly, but he turned onto their road and the brief glimpse of
a grin that was on my face vanished completely.


We had arrived.


Funny. The last time that I was here—it had been earlier, in the dark. With
the sun topping the horizon, the house looked smaller than it had before.


It was a two-story home with gray shingles and a porch that I knew Cherry sat
with her coffee on.


She probably placed the rocking chair and couch on the patio for that
reason.


I could even see the rings that was left behind when too many liquids spilled
from a cup.


It had been a few months, but Cherry already had history with this home.


Jace turned the car off and sat back.


He rested his head against his headrest and asked, "How do you want to do
this?"


"I'd like to walk up there with Gray. That's how I'd like to handle it." I
said faintly.


I saw movement already.


There should be screaming pretty soon.


I saw a yellow Lexus in the driveway. I didn't recognize it, but I never
really considered it.


I got out, Jace followed.


As I walked up the stairs, I took a breath.


Jace followed behind, sedately.


And as my head cleared the top stair, I looked ahead and jerked in
surprise.


The screen door was open and I found myself staring into the furious eyes of
Viiwa, Munsinger's Tribal Goddess.


A part of me fell away as I saw her. And she knew. She knew everything. I saw
it in her eyes. They smoldered and they condemned as she saw me.


She sat tall, almost regal in her seat, and her hair was a crown of braids,
all weaved together with intricate care.


Her chocolate molten eyes dismissed me as if I were a bug to be squashed.


She sat at the kitchen table as someone moved in the kitchen, the water
started.


And that's when I pushed the doorbell.


Cherry appeared in the kitchen doorway, but she stopped abruptly as she saw
me.


The water pitcher tipped out of her hands and crashed to the ground.


She was already pale, but a silent scream came to her face when she saw
me.


As I realized what she must've thought, I shot through the door and was there
in an instant. I held her up and I whispered, over and over, "He's not dead.
He's not dead. He's not dead He's not dead…."


Over and over again until someone separated us.


Cherry hadn't clung to me. I had clung to her, but she hadn't pushed me
away.


As we were separated, I realized that I was in Jace's arms while Steve held
Cherry up.


I sagged in Jace's arms and repeated, weakly, "He's not dead…."


And then others were there.


Kai. With her boyfriend.


Brandon.


Cora.


Later, much later, I would be told that Steve had told Jace where I could be
put. It seemed that I had grown hysterical.


Cherry had returned to hysterical and Kai had just stood there, helpless,
between us.


I would also be told that Jace introduced himself to Steve and it helped that
Jake was there. And that Jake had already flashed his badge to the local police.
He told them who Jace was and the local police, reluctantly, agreed to work with
Jace Lanser, someone who had only been a ghost legend to them.


When the police told Jace of his 'wanted' status, Jace only told them that it
wasn't true anymore—at least not of anyone who could hurt him locally.


Things had changed. He wasn't the hunted anymore. He now hunted.


And Steve had stood, helpless, in the corner of his home as too many
strangers walked freely underneath the vacant crib that they had found a day
ago, a day earlier than what Jace and I had assumed.


When I woke up, I turned over in a bed and saw that I was in Cherry's guest
bedroom. And Viiwa was the one who sat at the edge of the bed.


She stared at me, haughtily, but she stared nonetheless.


"Your man is downstairs." She clipped out through a heavy accent.


I groaned, remembered, and sat up. "You were in Switzerland." I told her,
coarsely.


"I was." She nodded.


"I'm sorry."


She lifted an eyebrow, "For what?"


"We were in your home when…"


"When my recent idiot of an ex-fiance broke my heart and disappeared from the
earth?" She mocked.


I sat up and cradled my knees to my chest. "I'm sorry." I told her,
truthfully and sincerely.


She lifted the other eyebrow and stood up to cross to the window.


She gazed outside as she mused, "I came here because this is where he said he
was. He said he was going to be a father and he needed to live here. I came here
to be with him. I was…I was willing to move here, for him."


I closed my eyes.


"Imagine my horrific surprise when I got here…and there was no idiot for me
to kick." She finished, promptly. She took a breath and her large bosom lifted
up, back down. "I know where he's at."


I looked up.


She met my gaze and shook her head, painfully, "I don't know how you're
involved, but I know you are. And I have no conscience to tell me that I
shouldn't blame you, because I do, girl! I blame you whole-heartedly. My man is
gone. That child is gone. And it's because of you!" She turned and raised a
finger to me. "You get them back!"


Her eyes held her fierce promise. "You get them back or…" Her finger shook.
She trembled. Her voice shook, "Or….God help the lives of us all. God help
you."


She turned to leave, but I shot up from the bed. I stood there, on my knees
on the bed, and I cried out, "When?!"


Surprised, she turned back.


"When is He going to help? When!? I sure would like to know because I could
use some help—right about now, but the help's not here! So where is it?!" I
snapped.


Kai appeared in the doorway, behind Viiwa's broad shoulders, but she stood,
uncertain.


Viiwa jerked in place and pounded a clenched fist to her chest. "I know it!"
She gasped out. "I feel that he's gone! It's here." She pounded her heart. "I
feel it here, but it ain't right! He's gone because of you!" Her eyes blazed her
condemnation. "I want him back. I want my heart back, but it ain't coming back."
She shook her head. "What lays in your path…what lays in your path…"


She stumbled back, unsteadily, down the stairs. She only held herself upright
by the handrail.


Kai watched her go and then turned her doe-like saddened eyes on me.


A soft, peaceful, smile came to her face as she tucked a strand of her
light-brown hair behind her ear and I crumbled.


I fell back to the bed and Kai threw herself inside.


She clasped me to her chest and cried out, "Maya! Oh…Maya!"


And then Cherry was with us.


All three of us huddled on the bed, crying on each other's shoulders.


I tried to talk. I tried to deliver my apology to Cherry, but she shook her
head, blinded with tears and just hugged me tighter.


We stayed there for what seemed like forever.


Cora found us and she was welcomed into our embrace.


All four us cried together throughout the night. And we slept that way. Or to
be more exact: I shed my tears. I stayed there, grateful to still be welcomed
back into their circle as Cherry and Kai shed theirs. Cora even had a sheen of
tear on her eyelids, but she just huddled with us.


When we woke, dried tears clung to our skins, but we woke tangled around each
other. We had needed each other and it was dark when the first one woke.


Cora whispered, "I have to pee."


And that woke the rest of us up.


Kai had hiccupped, laughed, and then cried.


Cherry huddled in her arms and hugged me to her chest.


I had thought I'd be handed my deliverance papers by my best friend. I had
not. I'd been welcomed into her arms.


She cried on me as I couldn't shed mine on her—not yet. Not anymore.


A soft tap came to the door and Steve was there.


He lifted Cherry into his arms.


Kai's boyfriend was next.


Jake was behind him and he nodded to me before he left to search out
Cora.


Jace should've been next, but he wasn't.


I heard his voice downstairs and I braved the trip back down.


Everyone had gone to bed, but Jace and I didn't sleep.


We weren't held to the same rules.


And so I found him, his head bent over some papers with two detectives, and a
thermos of coffee in their hands.


Jace looked up, assessed me, and nodded to the two detectives, "This is
Officer Huebchs and Detective Mullins."


They were both tall and broad-shouldered. One looked like he was in shape
while the other looked questionable to run a mile. Huebchs had sandy hair and
Mullins was dark with trimmed hair. Both had cop eyes and they watched me
intently.


I nodded to them, silent, and bypassed the group into the kitchen.


I poured myself a cup of coffee and joined the group again.


Jace waited until I took a sip before he murmured, "Marcus took Gray a day
earlier than we thought. He must've done it the second that he told Merit I was
back in town."


"These days seem to melt together." I murmured.


"Yeah…" Jace looked up and watched me. I knew what he wanted to ask so I said
instead, "I haven't been able to think anymore about where the book is. I just
spent a day with my two roommates and one of them is the mother of my
nephew—remember? The child that was taken because of me!" I bit out, harsh.


Jace tapped the table and said at each tap, "God." Tap. "Father." Tap. "Holy
Spirit."


I cringed at the last tap.


"So what? He's psychotic. That's been proven."


Jace closed in on me, "Each word means something to where the books are.
Marcus was God and Father for the last two—the books were with him. Not this
one. This one was planned. He took time to figure out where to put this last
book. I think it's connected with Munsinger's ring—"


I whirled on him and hissed, "Shut up. Just…shut up about that for now." I
looked around, but—.


"She left for a hotel awhile ago." One of the detectives murmured. "She's
been staying there ever since she arrived."


"Oh." I cupped my coffee mug.


"He's told us, Maya." Jace pointed to the piece of paper. Marcus' riddle was
written on it. "Where is it?"


I couldn't…I had to… "I can't." I whispered. "All I see when I look at that
is 'he is gone. He is gone. And he is still gone… I can't, Jace."


Officer Mullins cleared his throat and shifted. His hands rested on his belt,
with his badge and gun both prominent. "Listen, we can have our team look at
this. We're cooperating, but you need to know that we ran your badge. You've got
some…questionable items on your file. Our boss is telling us to just take this
one from you."


Jace whirled on him, narrowed his eyes, and promised, "You do that and you'll
lose. I'm not going to list out my resume, but you know that you'll lose. That
should be enough for you." He turned his back on them and regarded me.


I met his eyes.


The wind crashed into the house in the background. The trees scratched
against the window and the darkness just seemed to be a mockery.


It was if it were Marcus. As if Marcus sent that wind and those branches to
scratch their cruel taut. As if he really was who he proclaimed himself to
be.


"A night." I whispered. I pleaded. "We need a night, Jace."


Jace watched me. He gauged me. And then he nodded, "Okay." Jace took my hand
and led me downstairs.


I saw a bed in the back corner, behind the exercise bike and between the
dusty weight-stand.


The clothes washer and dryer sat parallel across the room of us.


Weak, I removed my shirt and asked, "How many places have we slept?"


Jace sat on the bed and caught my hand in his. He pulled me to him and
scooted back. He curved a hand around my hip and lifted me to straddle him, with
all my weight on him. He smoothed a hand down my back in a comforting
motion.


I sighed, wrapped my arms around him, and turned my head into his neck.


We sat there in a simple embrace.


Jace kissed the inside of my jaw and replied, "We've been awake for four
days—I don't know. I don't know when we last slept."


"How many places?" I asked.


Jace lifted me and moved us both underneath the covers. I was still wrapped
around him. He laid us both on our sides and pulled the covers over us.


"Too many."


I closed my eyes and snuggled closer. I murmured, drowsily, "Oscar's cabin.
Your other cabin."


"Rafe's place."


I grinned at that thought. The hidey hole.


Too many. Too many places and too many people.


I breathed out, "Munsinger's home."


"Yeah." Jace pulled me closer and kissed my neck.


"She didn't hate me." I whispered. "I thought she would, but…she didn't. I
used to have a journal, you know. I'd write things in there…"


Drowsily, I decided to write in that journal the next day. Maybe I'd take it
to a park. Maybe…


Jace laid on his back and pulled me with him.


I fell asleep, but I wouldn't know that he stayed awake. When I drifted off,
I wouldn't know that Jace held me for another hour and then he moved me to the
side, made sure I was curled tight underneath the blankets and then he went back
upstairs to work.


He worked and his eyes burned from his banked rage.