Twenty

The coffee they’d picked up at a drive through, and after having it and the muffin Genevieve felt a little more solid and able to think. She was who Mesny was looking for, but the twin thing was probably crap. How he was going to get his hands on her when the test came back saying that… 

At the hospital, Reid stepped away to speak to one of the armed men, and Avila ushered her into the building. “Creepy.” He whispered under his breath. “That’s what I think of Mesny. And having seen those videos of you in your band I’m not surprised he thinks you’re related. But my guess would be, you grew out of it.”

“Thanks. I tried.” She could feel Remiel’s amusement at the statement and his worry about her doing so much walking. He knew her side was starting to ache. He wanted her to say something about it.

“You alright?” Avila was looking at her strangely.

“My side is hurting. The bruised kidney isn’t healing as quickly as they said it would, possibly because I suck at bed rest.”

“How long has it been hurting?”

“Off and on since my a*****e ex punched me in the kidney a few days ago.”

He snorted a laugh. “You’re a live one.” Flagging down a nurse he ordered a chair. “Let’s keep you that way.”

There was absolutely nothing she had to do. Avila handled everything. Genevieve was in a room by the time Reid made his way up to them. When she balked, she was told she didn’t have to put on a hospital gown. Another change from the last time, she was hydrated enough for them to get blood from her easily. A nurse brought her a pitcher of water and a cup to help keep her that way.

Outside her room, she could feel the constant hum of people. Pain and fear were loud. Remiel was getting agitated and then he calmed. Ethan was telling him about sitting on Brandon’s couch. He started to dwell on the things he enjoyed, cooking for her, woodworking, hunting. His balance and solidity made her feel protected.

“Ms. Mesny?” The quiet voice prodded her out of her comfortable communion with Remiel.

“That’s not my name.” Genevieve opened her eyes and looked at the dark haired man at the foot of the bed. He was dressed in a suit and was looking at the clipboard with her paperwork.

“According to Mr. Mesny it is. He’s sparing no expense to make certain you’re in good health.” She could feel his displeasure clearly. 

“I don’t know Mr. Mesny, and I don’t want to know Mr. Mesny. Whoever this guy is, I’m not his sister and I want him to leave me alone.” She met his almost eerily familiar brown gaze without blinking.

“The thought of inheriting a few million dollars doesn’t give you,” he shrugged, “some incentive to get to know him?”

“No. He can keep his money. I want my life.” Genevieve watched him set the clipboard back into its place and move toward her jacket tossed over the chair.

“This life?” He picked it up like it was infested with parasites.

“That life. The one that’s mine.” She rubbed at her bracelet.

“That’s a nice piece of jewelry. Doesn’t really match the jacket.”

“It was a gift from a dear friend. He made it for me.”

Dropping the coat the man came closer. “May I?”

“No.” There was something she didn’t like about this man. “Back up please, I don’t like to be touched by strangers.”

A smile curved his mouth. He was starting to enjoy himself. “Something we have in common Ms. Mesny.”

“That’s not my name.”

“You’d rather Sybil? Or Sibulla?” He pointed at her shirt.

“Also not my name. You can call me Ms. Geary.” Genevieve kept her hand wrapped around the bracelet, Remiel was growling in her mind.

He looked as though he were going to say something but Avila interrupted him. “Mr. Mesny, I thought you were asked to stay away from Ms. Geary until the tests came back. We have our investigation to conduct and you could muddy the water by saying the wrong thing.” The hint of condescension in his voice made Mr. Mesny turn toward the door.

“I don’t need the tests. This is my sister.” Without looking he tried to touch her leg and she jerked it away.

“I don’t know you. Don’t touch me.” The words came out with Remiel’s anger resonating through them.

“You’re upsetting Ms. Geary. I think you should leave.” Avila turned sideways in the doorway, inviting him to leave.

“I’ll leave when I’ve had a chance to connect.” Mesny’s back was to her but she could feel the focus and energy coming off of him. There was no doubt in her mind now that this was the Page of Swords. 

Remiel’s anger felt like standing too close to a bonfire, he wanted to come immediately. Struggling to push back his unbearably strong reactions she missed what happened in the doorway. Suddenly, it felt like cold water washed over her, tamping down the fire and Mesny was looking amused standing next to her bed.

“The wolf at the door. I should thank him. You were hiding from me too well, Sybil.”

There was too much distraction with Remiel in her head. Genevieve knew, clear and sure, she needed to focus on Mesny. Distractions were dangerous. Focus on the threat in front of you. She pulled the bracelet off and put it behind her back. It muted Remiel in her mind.

“Sybil isn’t my name. What is it you want from me?” 

“It is actually. But… I can feel you don’t believe me.” Pulling the room’s chair closer, he sat near the bed. “I really don’t spark any sort of familiarity in you? You don’t… have a sense of who I am?”

“You’re the Page of Swords.”

“Well, that’s something at least.” He laughed and bowed his head for a brief moment before lifting it with a peculiar smile. “I expected you to be more,” his eyes raked over her, “accomplished. To hide like you have, you should have a grasp on your gifts. But you used salt and smoke to fend me off. That’s the weakest defense you could have tried.”

“The witch things I learned, I learned from normal people.” She watched him carefully. “I wasn’t hiding, I didn’t know I was being hunted for. Not by someone I hadn’t dated, anyway.”

He smiled and looked down at his hands, “I see. You never had the feeling that there was a family waiting for you? Another piece to you?”

“I accepted that I’m broken long ago.” At her words he looked up with interest. “Even the sturdiest things lose pieces when they get bounced off the pavement time and again. Trying to get those pieces back is a waste of time. The only way through is forward.”

“Acceptance isn’t my strong suit. I’ve felt your absence all my life. I want you to come home, Sybil.”

“You attacked me. Twice.” Genevieve watched amusement and dismay fighting for a place on his face.

“That wasn’t an attack, not really. If you knew how to use our gifts you’d know that. I was trying to find you. I thought I could make you sleep and stay put until I could get to you. The second time you were terrified, I didn’t do anything but try to talk to you.”

“You might be able to persuade me if you hadn’t gone after Sage, Ethan, and the witch.”

“I could have hurt them, I didn’t. I just tried to make them unable to interfere.” He spread his hands and gave her what was clearly intended to be a disarming smile. 

“I might be persuaded to believe you if I didn’t know that you hurt them and made them unable to remember it.”

He laughed and nodded. “I didn’t permanently harm them. I could have.” She watched him bite his top lip thoughtfully and the hairs on the back of her neck raised. “I was going to ask how you’ve managed to stay so sane without being taught control as I was, but I think I’d rather ask why you just had that flash of recognition.” His smile was wide.

“You bit your lip.” She swallowed, looking at him dubiously.

“Lots of people do.” Mesny tilted his head.

Biting her top lip she took a deep breath and watched his eyes widen. “You bit your lip like I do.”

Leaning back in the chair he grinned, “Father always said I got that from our mother. He hated it.”

“It seems to bother people.”

“Because we’re biting the ‘wrong’ lip.” He ran a hand over his face, “Just one of the many reasons people say I’m creepy when they think I can’t hear them.”

“Oh, they tell me to my face.” She couldn’t help but smile just a little.

For a brief moment he looked and felt like a boy who desperately wanted to be accepted. “You have a lovely smile.” He took an even breath and she could feel he was putting his defenses back in order. “You haven’t asked my name.”

“Mesny.” They sat staring at each other for a long moment.

“You don’t want to have to introduce yourself, do you?” He sounded speculative. “Why is that?”

“I don’t introduce myself to people who already know my name. If you call me by it I might be more willing to ask yours.”

“I’m not going to call you by the name you shouldn’t have had, Sybil. I’m willing to compromise and call you Sibulla, it’s similar enough.”

“Sibulla was the band name. I was referred to as ‘The Sibyl’,” Genevieve shook her head with a sigh. “You never said what it is you want from me.”

“I want my sister. I want what was taken. I’d be lying if I said I didn't want the Sibyl to advise me, to stand by my side and…” He looked at her carefully. “I dropped my defenses, more than once now and you haven’t tried to attack. Is that because you don’t know how?”

Adjusting herself on the bed, she felt the bracelet pressing into her back. “I know how. I don’t,” she took a breath and bit her top lip thinking before she continued. “I don’t hurt people. It’s a choice. I’ll shield myself but I don’t hit back.”

“Why? With our gifts…”

“They’re not loud to you?” She looked at him feeling the pain and anger swelling inside. “You don’t hear it when you hurt them? They can’t defend themselves from the type of things we can do.” The way he leaned forward with a half smile she knew he was going to say something patronising. “Are you deaf?” 

He blinked at her. “No, but Sybil-”

“How can you hear them and be willing to harm them? They suffer enough! How can you endure the agony of being surrounded by it all and still-still add to it?” She was shaking as she pulled the bracelet back on. Balance, she needed balance so badly.

“You have a very tender heart, sister. You’re stronger than I am, this close I can feel it. They’re louder to you and you never learned how to make them quiet. I can teach you.” He pulled the chair closer and laid his hand palm up on the bed. “You need to learn.”

Remiel was trying to give her the balance she needed but he felt guilty for making her separate herself for her safety. It made him slightly unsteady and she struggled to find her feet. “Back up, please. I need quiet and balance and you’re not helping.”

“Quiet, I can give you.” He stood up and moved to the window. What he did, she couldn’t see but the icy quiet descended on the room and he turned smugly to see the expression on her face. “Better?”

“Much. How did you do that?”

His brown eyes lit up as he smiled. “Just a little spell with breath and light put on the glass. How do you do it?”

“Salt, smoke, and crystals.” Genevieve watched as his eyebrows rose. “I’ve been told it’s not the most effective way but it works well enough if I have time to set up the room.”

“The rooms you were hiding from me in, that was salt, smoke, and crystals?” He was smiling like she was telling a mystifying joke.

“Yes. Black tourmaline and sardonyx.”

He started to laugh incredulously. “That isn’t just less effective, Sybil. It shouldn’t work to keep me out at all.” He bit his top lip. “Your defenses haven’t wavered. Not when you took off the protective bracelet, not when you got upset…”

“Kyanite is protective, but that’s not why I’m wearing it.” As soon as she said it, she could feel Remiel warning her to stop talking.

“You’re wearing it to talk to the wolf.” He nodded. “What else are you wearing?”

Ethan’s energy came through loud and clear as he touched Remiel to steady him, Genevieve decided to use it. “That’s not a question a brother asks a sister.”

Mesny laughed and sat on the foot of the bed. “Spells are a way of focusing, the form is important, like grooves that have been worn into the-” He stopped and shook his head. “Any witch can use them no matter how strong or weak. But you, what you’re doing, instead of spells, Sybil, you’re focusing through the crystals to try to get the same effect. That’s raw power.” He looked at her admiringly.

“Tell me Sybil, what do you do when you can’t set up a room? Surely sometimes you need to catch your breath?” He was riveted.

His interest was so focused she couldn’t keep herself from answering. “I usually wear something to help keep people from overwhelming me. Even then I have to go inside and sit in the quiet sometimes.” 

“Inside? Inside your house?” 

“Inside.” She tapped her chest. “The same place I went when you were trying to drain my energy.”

“Inside. I wondered how you managed to slip away so effectively. I didn’t mean you harm, Sybil, I just didn’t want you to be able to run.” He was looking into the middle distance. “Father always said I should learn that. Maybe you can teach me?” He looked back up at her speculatively.

“If you don’t go inside what do you do?” Genevieve hated the fact that she was curious, and she could feel that Remiel wasn’t thrilled with her either.

“I use these.” He pulled a carved disc out of his pocket. “In an emergency they work well.” Offering it he looked at her curiously. “You can look at it if you’d like.”

Remiel was insistent that she shouldn’t but he didn’t feel like he intended her harm. She took the offered disc and turned it over in her hands. Wood with strange carvings, inlaid metals and stone. 

“Quartz is a good stone. Obsidian and silver. I don’t know much about wood but it feels good. How often do you clean it? It’s a little… sticky is probably the best word.”

“I throw them away when they no longer work. There’s no way to make them work properly again.” He swallowed and looked away at her disapprovingly incredulous look. “Father used to give me that look.”

“He should have taken your credit card away. You have more money than sense. To throw this out would be stupidly wasteful!”

“And now I’m glad you don’t want to know my name.” His lips were twisted with uncomfortable amusement. “You sound just like him. You’d probably spit my name just the same as well.”

“If you ever tell it to me, I’ll try not to. You kind of flinch like I do when someone calls me Ginny in just the wrong tone.” The pain he’d felt at the memory was as familiar as the brown of his eyes.

“You think you could reclaim it?” He smiled wistfully.

“I know I could. It’s not hard. You just wash it in smoke and recharge it with your own energy while keeping the purpose in mind.” She tilted her head as he began to laugh.

“‘It’s not hard.’ You have no idea what’s hard for others, Sybil. That’s like saying it’s not hard, you just need to walk on the ceiling.”

“It was the way I learned it! Normal people can even do it.” Genevieve was almost sure he was messing with her. There was too much amusement coming off of him for it to be anything else.

“No, they imagine they can.” He reached out and squeezed her leg. “Raw power, Sybil.” The look on his face when she jerked her leg away was surprised and hurt.

“I don’t know you. Don’t touch me.” She half tossed the disc back to him.

He cradled the disc carefully for a moment. “I thought we were getting along so well.”

“We were, and then you touched me.”

His eyes dropped to the bracelet. “The wolf has a problem with other men touching you. I remember reading that they’re possessive. They also protect their pack above all else. Let him know that if he tries to make you hate me I’ll destroy them all.” He gave a vicious smile. 

“Stay away from my pack. I love them, even the ones that don’t like me.” Genevieve could feel her heart beating faster.

“I wouldn’t have to go near them. I’ve learned things about them, Sybil. I wanted information on,” he gave a short laugh, “on an evasive business rival. I discovered the man and his company are… much more interesting than I expected. I also learned that a pack can be destroyed, not from the outside, they bind together when you do that. But from the inside, weaken the Alpha, drive him mad.” Mesny snapped his fingers. “With my gifts that would be child’s play.”

“Stay away from my Alpha, Mesny. These are good people-”

He clapped his hands, startling her into stopping. “He’s not yours. You’re not one of them, Sybil. You’re a Mesny. And I’ll leave them alone as long as they leave you alone. If they leave you to me I won’t give them any trouble. If they don’t I’ll make that de Santos debacle look like a small family squabble.”

Remiel’s response to that sent a blaze of pain across her senses so strong she leaned over the side of the bed to vomit. Panting to catch her breath she heard Mesny call for a nurse and felt Remiel’s agony at having shared his pain at the same time. 

The admonishment not to apologize for things he couldn’t help was on her lips and she felt him hear it without her needing to actually speak it. “I’m fine. I’ll be fine. I just need a cold rag.” She half spoke to Remiel and the nurse at the same time.

After the mess was cleaned and she was laid back with a cold rag on her face, Mesny moved the chair close again. “I take it they got my message.”

“Yes.”

“Good. You can take off the bracelet now and we can keep talking. I’m enjoying getting to know you, Sybil.”

“I need to rest. Unless, you were lying about wanting me in good health, Mr. Mesny.” Genevieve didn’t open her eyes.

“I wasn’t.” He sounded almost contrite. “Sybil, I don’t want to leave until you ask me my name.”

“My name isn’t Sybil.” Her words were followed by a long silence. 

“You are stubborn aren’t you. It runs in the family, Sybil. I’ll stay here while you sleep.”

The quiet inside was inviting, especially with Remiel’s growing upset at the thought of Mesny staying with her while she slept. He didn’t want her to sleep with that man in the room, it was dangerous, but he could feel how badly she needed the rest. Genevieve tried not to nod off completely but sleep pulled her down.

The diner wasn’t one she knew. Alpha Germain and Rob were sitting in the farthest booth with their backs to the wall. They weren’t happy to be there. And then the man and woman walked in together. Genevieve wanted to laugh and clap. Alpha Germain stood up like a man in a dream moving toward the woman and Rob followed on his heels, his eyes on the man. The Pure and the Golden. It was exactly as it should be.

She was startled awake by someone taking away the now warm rag. 

“I told you to leave it.” Mesny spoke sharply. “You woke her.”

“A warm wet rag on her face wasn’t doing her any good and it’s time for her to have her vitals checked and try to have something to eat.” The nurse was frowning at him as she lifted the water pitcher. “How many pitchers have you had since you’ve been here, Ms. Geary?”

“None. I’m actually feeling thirsty now. Please leave it.”

No wonder they put an IV in you to keep you hydrated. The nurse’s sharp thought was as clear as glass. “I’ll get you a fresh one.”

Genevieve tried to bring her hands up to rub her face, forcing Mesny to release her hand reluctantly. She rubbed her bracelet before rubbing her eyes. “What were you doing?”

“I want to feel connected to my sister. Is that so wrong?” His wry smile was almost transparent.

“You were poking around in my head.” 

“I was getting to know you. You’re connected with them in a way I envy. All through,” his lips twisted bitterly, “your angel. Why would you let a thing like that put his filthy paws on you?”

“His paws aren’t filthy, and even if they were I’m still getting the better end of the deal. He’s beautiful, loving, kind. He’s good with his hands, most of the time he’s calm and solid. I’ve never loved anyone like I love him.”

“Ms. Geary, have you been to the bathroom at all?” The nurse bustled back in. “If not I want you to try now. There’s a sample container on the sink.”

“I can do that, ma’am.” Gingerly, Genevieve climbed out of the bed, waving off help. In the bathroom she rubbed the bracelet again as if trying to wake someone. He’d done something to it that kept her from reaching out. She had her doubts Remiel could even still hear her. Worse would be if he’d been hurt.

It was possible that Alpha Germain had pulled him back somehow. It would be better for the whole pack to let Mesny take her. Remiel could find someone else eventually… once she was dead. Despite Mesny’s apparent sincerity, he was going to kill her. He was going to chain her and burn her. It was so clear she could feel the weight of the chains if she closed her eyes.

If she were dead he’d have a second chance eventually. She wanted to take comfort in the thought but it just left her heart aching. He’d be in agony until he found the next one.

She rinsed the sink and left the cold water running with her bracelet under it. Salt and smoke were better, but running water would do in a pinch. Genevieve took her time preparing her sample and washed her hands and face in the shower. 

The bracelet should really have longer but she needed it now. Turning the water off, she clasped it in her hands and took a deep breath, using energy and intent to bring it back to purpose. It was as if Remiel had been standing and waiting for it. If he had been in the room he couldn’t have been more clear with his love and the adamant insistence that it was not better if she left.

Remiel knew Mesny had done something. He’d been able to feel it when the Page was trying to pry apart their connection. Ethan had helped him keep his feet and he’d suggested sending up Brandon and Sage, maybe even a few packmates to visit.

The thought made her shiver. Mesny was too dangerous for that. She’d been too distracted to see what he’d done to the FBI agent, but he could push people, and she knew he could hurt them. “Stay away, please, stay away. I can’t have any of you hurt,” she breathed wanting to turn on the sink and run her face under the cold water.

Knocking at the door made her jump. “Ms. Geary?” 

Genevieve took a deep breath, time to go back out into the lion’s den. Time to pretend to be normal, pretend everything is fine. The bracelet went back on her wrist and she picked up the sample cup before stepping out. “Yeah. Just collecting myself a little bit.”

Avila gave her a dirty look, “A pun? And don’t you even say just a wee one.”

“It was actually unintentional.” Seeing him again was like a weight off of her chest. “I’m glad to see you back.” 

“Has Mr. Mesny been bothering you?” 

“Not-not exactly.” Genevieve glanced at him and saw the Page’s icy face soften just slightly. “We’re at an impasse. He won’t call me by my name and I won’t ask him his until he does. You wouldn’t want to step in would you?”

Mesny started to laugh. “I hope he doesn’t, I’m actually enjoying myself. I want to see which one of us is more stubborn, Sybil.” He grinned at her broadly. That you want to know my name is comforting. Even though you think I’m more of a dangerous animal than the wolf.

In answer, she tilted her head. If he’d been in her head enough to hear and speak to her like Remiel could, that was really dangerous. But if he’d seen things the way Remiel could… She studied his face for a sign his intentions were plainer, he would know she’d seen her death and that he was the cause.

His eyes widened slightly, before he glanced back to Avila. “Would it be possible for you to come back tomorrow? I’m getting to know my sister.”

“No. Ms. Geary, you didn’t answer me. We can do our interviews in the psych ward, you might need some support afterward.” He was trying to be conscientious.

“No, I’m fine. How much of my horrible childhood do you need to revisit?”

“Did the woman who raised you go by any other names that you can recall? Other than Demi Geary?”

Genevieve settled onto the bed, eyeing the water pitcher. Talking first. “Demi Young, and Thomson. Denise Sharp, Wooten, and Moore. Daisy Shaw, Green, and Clay. I think there were others when I was younger. Those are the ones I remember since I was about six. She always came back to Demi Geary.”

Avila let out a surprised exhale. “That’s more than I was expecting.”

“Seeing her just pick up new names like they were nothing baffled me. It’s part of what gave me an interest in names. And a huge part of the reason I’m sticking with mine, Mr. Mesny. I never had much certainty in my life, but I had my name.”

“That’s wretchedly sad, Sybil. What’s in a name if it's not a link to your family?” He got up to pour her a cup of water. 

“Your identity, Mr. Mesny. The very first block you built yourself on.” She took the cup and nodded, “Thanks.”

“Ms. G-” Avila came to stop as Mesny waved his hand.

“If I acknowledge you have another name and an identity you’ve embraced will you consider acknowledging that you were born with another name and that it means a great deal to your brother?”

There was no mistaking the earnestness in his eyes and tone. It was a reasonable request even if it made her feel uncomfortable. “I can do that.”

He smiled and took his seat again. “Farrin. My name is Farrin.”

“Farrin. That’s an unusual name. Which meaning do you lean toward? English, Gaelic, or Afghan?”

Farrin’s eyes lit up and he leaned forward, “I prefer the Afghan, but I’m almost certain our father intended the English. It’s a family name.”

She desperately wanted to tease, ‘No oxen at home?’ or make a crack about servants, but her sense of humor might not be well received and they were seeming to get along well… Instead, she asked, “And Sybil?” 

He was beaming, “Also a family name. I thank you for not teasing me about the oxen.”

“You’re welcome.” Finishing the cup of water she tried to figure out why she was feeling so strange. Maybe because she’d been called by the wrong name all day.

“You’d be more comfortable if I called you Genevieve?” Farrin spoke the name as if it had a bitter taste.

“It has a ton of nicknames if that’s any consolation.” It did feel better to hear her own name.

“If I’m going to call you by a nickname-” he sat back in annoyance before the wheels started to turn. “What about Sibbi?”

“It’s better than Sissy, I suppose.”

“Sibbi. Perfect.” Farrin’s eyes were bright. “We’ll work on the rest later. I’ll let him finish, it’ll help that strange feeling you’re having.” He waved his hand again.

“-eary, which name is the earliest you can remember? Do you remember being called anything other than Genevieve Geary?”

Genevieve shivered. She hadn’t realized… Avila was looking at her as if she were the odd one. “Um, Demi Geary. And-and no. Are you feeling ok?”

“I’m fine.” Avila looked puzzled. “You said this morning that you were sure your mother was your mother?”

“Yes. If she didn’t have to keep me around she wouldn’t have. When the courts took me away she was more pissed about having to go to jail.”

“She said you refused to speak to her in jail and when she got out you had vanished.” Farrin moved the chair closer to lean on the bed. “What did she do?”

“Her newest boyfriend had tried to climb into bed with me. I raised hell… That was one thing I could count on her for, she didn’t want to share her boyfriends. She dragged him out and he slapped the s**t out of her. I was not going to deal with one more psycho in the house so I called the cops.” Genevieve rubbed her arms and looked at Avila who nodded encouragingly.

“This wasn’t well received. This guy was on parole and calling the cops meant he was probably going back to jail. She started screaming at me while I was on the phone and they both came after me while I had the phone in hand with the dispatcher on the other end. And, uh,” she let out a long exhale remembering how afraid she’d been. “She’d had oil on to make fry bread. I was trying to run away so I don’t know who threw the oil at me. But I have a decent sized scar on my back.”

“You didn’t lash out at them?” Farrin reached out and brushed her arm. I would have. I have for less.

“No. I just wanted to get away.”

“Lashing out would have gotten her hurt worse, Mr. Mesny. Trying to get away was exactly right.” Avila gave her a reassuring smile. “Calling the police when you’re being screamed at like that was pretty brave for a kid with a medical history like yours.”

“Medical history?” The dawning realization on Farrin Mesny’s face wasn’t pretty. “Abuse?”

“I’m not…” Genevieve winced, “really fond of talking about it. Brandon’s family was a lot better. His parents were great. They took in an angry, squirrelly, injured kid and in about four years managed to turn out a young adult who could function in society and had some marketable skills.”

“Marketable skills?” Farrin arched an eyebrow with a half smile.

“I learned how to do stained glass from Brandon’s dad, and his mom is the one who started teaching me crystals and generally getting me into the New Age stuff she put a lot of stock in.”

Farrin covered his face. “You can do so much more, Sibbi. Why didn’t you go to college?”

“I tried it. It wasn’t my thing.” She jumped as Farrin slapped the bed.

“Your thing?!” He was appalled. His father had done that to startle him into sense, she could almost see the older man sitting at his desk bringing his hand down.

“Mesny!” Avila barked. “Out.” 

“I apologize, I just-” Farrin hadn’t thought before he’d done it. It had just come naturally. He hadn’t meant to harm or scare her.

“Out.” Avila sat stiffly in his seat with a scowl like Alpha Germain’s. 

“I’ll bring you back something to eat, Sibbi. And some clothes.” Farrin stood up slowly and squeezed her arm. We’ll talk about what you saw when I get back. I don’t intend you any harm, Sibbi. Please believe me.

She gave him a tentative nod. The fact that she wanted to believe him made her feel strange. It didn’t get better when he bent and kissed her head. 

“I’ll be back soon.” The smile Farrin gave Avila was predatory.

After he left the room, Avila looked at her with an apologetic frown. “Like I said, creepy.”