Chapter Twenty-Six

Within another couple weeks, the comfortable routines of a rural southern autumn drowned out most of the ache in Melody’s belly until even that started to feel commonplace. Her mother had waited two decades for Alec. If she could do it, Melody could manage for the short term.

There were more pressing concerns at the moment, anyway. Alec continued evading Melody’s questions about whether he intended to “make an honest woman” of her mother. Now that she had a clearer picture of what that really meant for both him and her mother, she was surprised by his hesitance.

“You said you were going to do it the night I showed up. Don’t let me stop you,” she told him after the novelty of being home again for the first time in years had finally worn off. “You know you shouldn’t wait.”

“No, but I am going to. Just a little longer. We will have all the time in the world when I do it.”

“Are you waiting on my account? Because if you are, I really wish you wouldn’t. I want to be able to tell her the truth, for once. I’ve been lying to her since I got home—I hate it.”

They were taking a half-mile walk down the dirt road to the Merritt house to return some tools they’d borrowed from Anya and Viki, the women who had been her mother’s neighbors for the last two years.

“Everything in its own time, Melonhead,” he said. “You may have given up hope for yourself, but I haven’t. I’ve been around awhile—guys like me don’t exactly like to rush things.”

Melody snorted. “Not when you have forever. You’ve never actually told me—how old are you, anyway?”

“He’s older than you’d think,” a female voice said from behind them. Melody turned to see Anya, her dark hair coiled into a messy knot at the back of her head. She was really a striking woman, Amazonian in stature. She and her partner, Viki, had been the friends her mother needed during the last few years. She held her hand out for the tools.

“How old do you think he is?” Melody asked, wondering if the woman somehow knew more than she let on. She had a strange sense that there was more to her than met the eye, the way she always sensed about certain people, yet Anya wasn’t quite the same as Alec or Garen and Skye. Simply different in a way Melody believed was something a little more than human. The rest of the conversation confirmed it.

Anya gave Alec a wry look. “When did we first meet? Was it in Italy when my people invaded and your parents defended the countryside? You were such a wild boy back then. War was much more fun, too.”

Alec laughed. “I’d never seen a Turul before. I knew you existed, but I guess there were creatures out there even my people considered myths back then.”

Melody blinked. “You invaded Italy?”

Alec waved a hand. “Ancient history, literally. I’m close to a thousand years old. When I was young, we had bigger reasons to remain in our true forms. I’m just glad the Turul are our allies now.”

Anya turned her dark, slanted eyes to Melody and gave her a once over. “She’s got the look of a marked human, but she’s no more yours than her mother is. Except that is definitely your magic underneath those webs of the other two. And yours has been there a lot longer. Tell me you’re not trading in the mother for the daughter. Viki might take issue with that. But then your kind has never had any qualms about taking more than one mate, have you?”

Alec grabbed Anya’s arm and hauled her away, but not far enough that Melody couldn’t hear them. “You know damn well Julia is the only woman I love. Why else would I have had your people watch over her the last two decades?”

“And you still haven’t claimed her, yet you’ve done something to claim the daughter. You’ve always flouted convention, Alec. By their laws you should be dead now. What are you up to coming back like this? Did you come back for Julia or for Melody?”

Melody’s jaw dropped at the suggestion. She stomped through the grass and stabbed her index finger at Anya’s chest.

“Alec’s always been like a father to me. He ~loves Mom~. And you can bet that if he doesn’t do what needs to be done, she’ll know the truth from me.”

“Jesus, Mel. You can’t tell her.” Alec looked stricken.

“Are ~you~ ever going to?” she asked, emotion tangling in her stomach. She’d spent a week with only a vague idea about Garen and Skye, patient because she knew they were working up to sharing the details of a secret she already knew. She could forgive them for their reluctance, but her mother’s peace of mind was far more important than her own.

Something caught Anya’s attention and she looked away from their argument. “Looks like you might not have to,” she said.

A split second later, a piercing female scream carried through the air from the direction of her mother’s house. Without even blinking, Alec took off at a dead run, disregarding anything in his path. A split-rail fence stood between Anya’s yard and garden, which he vaulted over like the earth was a springboard and kept going.

“Oh God, Mama!” Melody yelled, but there was no way she could keep up with the blur that was already retreating into the distance, dodging tree trunks in the stand of hardwoods that separated the two properties.

Anya clutched her shoulder. “She’ll be fine. I’m guessing these particular guests aren’t unexpected, or they wouldn’t have shown up the way they did. C’mon, I’ll give you a ride home so you don’t have to chase the west wind.”