Blood Debt (Touched Series Book 1) Read online

  Isaac, her father, indulged Angela too much as a child, coddling her, constantly accusing me of abuse. They deserved each other; let her join him in the pasture. Until his death I had always wondered if he had hidden her from me. Once he passed into the spirit world and I still could not locate Angela, I knew that he hadn’t betrayed me after all. I never believed Isaac’s denial until his death proved his words true.

  With that knowledge I was at a loss as to who could have protected her. I wondered if my worthless brother Zethus was involved. He swore the arrow didn’t exist. All these years I wondered if it was his arrow that cloaked Angela from me, but if that were true, Camille would still be under its protection. Once Angela passed, I felt Camille, I knew she existed. I had zeroed in on Southern California, and in a few more days, I would have found her apartment. I was close. I knew I was close. But why can’t I feel her brother?

  I listened to her phone call with William Strayer – she was already in Charleston by now. He would let his guard down. He wasn’t a protector. The fool didn’t stand a chance against me. It was only a matter of time. I needed to be patient, as patient as I had been the last twenty-eight years - I needed only be patient for a few more days.

  Chapter 4

  Camille

  As I looked around the yacht, I had to wonder: was Will a billionaire or something? My mom wasn’t wealthy. I could remember growing up and for weeks eating nothing but Ramen Noodles, macaroni and cheese, and hot dogs. I could feel a twinge of jealousy in me, not begrudging that they had so much, but disappointed that I came from almost nothing. I wouldn’t have traded a day with my mom for all the nice cars and beautiful boats in the world, but I had to wonder why my mom never contacted Will to tell him about me. He could have surely helped enough so that we could have had better food. I couldn’t think of any good reason for us to struggle the way we had. Now that she was gone, I’d never be able to ask her why.

  We climbed onto the yacht, and an employee from the club untied the ropes and handed them up to Brent. “Mr. Strayer, good to see you again.”

  “Hi, Josh, any chance you wanna ride along today?”

  Josh blushed at the offer, “Thank you, Mr. Strayer, but I’m working today.”

  “Oh, come on. I’ll go in and clear it with your boss. It’ll be fun.”

  “Mr. Strayer, thanks, but I’ll have to decline. Besides, you’ll need me here to tie her off when you return.” Josh gave a kind of salute with his hand, and turned to walk away. We powered out into the harbor, headed for blue water, with Beau at the helm. As stifling hot as it had been when we got out of the car, the breeze out on the open water was wonderful.

  I’d gone to school with kids like my brothers – at least from the wealth perspective. But there was something about these five: they were almost magnetic. Aside from their obvious good looks, their demeanor was welcoming, their words to others were thoughtful, and each looked others in the eye when they spoke. In a word, they were “genuine,” not at all like the pompous stuffed shirts I’d become accustomed to tuning out.

  Everyone seemed to be having a good time, telling stories of stunts they’d pulled when they were younger. Each seemed to tell a story that was more brazen than the last – laughter erupted in all directions with each new story. I tuned out for a while, wondering if any of this could seriously be real. I found myself wishing for a way to let my mom know that I was going to be okay. I’d miss her for the rest of my life – but something I never thought possible, until that moment, I was no longer alone. Beau was the sweetest, his eyes were kind; whenever someone spoke, he looked them square in the eye, giving them his full attention. Bruce seemed to be the comic with an easy smile that reached all the way to his eyes. Bart was the quietest of the five, happy to be Bruce’s audience. Ben wore glasses and had an intelligent look about him, but barely spoke more than Bart. Brent was by far the most outspoken; he was the youngest and seemed to be comfortable being the center of attention.

  When I tuned back in I heard Bruce saying “. . . then Dad said, ‘I’m sorry, Your Honor, I’m sure my son was temporarily insane. He gets it from his mother’s side of the family.’ Of course, Mom was right there beside him, and she glared at him pretty good. Remember that time when he melted down her best silver to make doubloons for a scavenger hunt at Halloween? Yeah, she glared at him just like that! Then he said to the judge, ‘I can assure you, he will not display such poor judgment in the foreseeable future.’ I was staring up at the judge, praying it would just be a fine or maybe Dad could buy a fire truck or something for the town and all would be forgiven, you know? The next thing I heard was, ‘Mr. Strayer, I understand sons can be a handful, but there are to be no concerts without the proper permits. Even with proper permits, they are not to host, encourage, or sponsor wet t-shirt contests in the courthouse square. Am I clear?’”

  Beau jumped in, “You know why you got busted, right? The judge’s daughter was one of the girls you sprayed down, and I heard pictures of her got posted on Facebook.”

  All five brothers were laughing at Bruce’s story. I had missed the first part and wasn’t sure about asking Bruce to repeat the beginning. It was obvious that these five were no angels. After I don’t know how many stories, Beau asked, “So, tell us about California. Do you have a boyfriend?”

  I smiled and shook my head, “No, no one special.”

  He dramatically wiped his forehead, “Well, that’s a relief. We were all worried we were going to have to fly out and give him the big brother talk.”

  I was confused, “Big brother talk?”

  “You know the one, ‘If you hurt her, I’ll hunt you down.’ That type of brother talk.”

  “Well, you can rest easy. No need to hop on a plane anytime soon. I dated a guy for a while, but we broke up a few months ago. No big deal.”

  Brent looked shocked when he confirmed, “You broke up with a guy?”

  “Yeah, it wasn’t some epic romance or anything.”

  Brent asked again, “You dated him and then broke up?”

  Surprised by his sudden interest, I could only answer, “Well, yeah.”

  “What happened to him?”

  I laughed, mostly because Brent had a way of looking so serious. “Happened to him? Nothing, it was mutual. We just weren’t cut out for each other.”

  Beau must have noticed the strange reaction in Brent because he said, “Geeze Brent, it isn’t a big deal. People date.” I couldn’t help but notice Beau’s emphasis on the word people, and he gave Brent a look that told them all to leave it alone. I got a weird feeling that there was more to the question that Brent wanted to ask, but after Beau shut him down, he never circled back to the topic.

  We spent another hour together before we pulled back into the slip. Josh was waiting on the dock as Brent tossed him the rope, and he had us tied off before Bart had cut the engine. We’d only been out for a couple hours, but the rocking of the water, maybe the sea air, the heat or the sun beating down had me worn out. Josh offered me a hand onto the pier and asked, “Did you have a good time, Miss?”

  “I did, thanks for asking.” Josh was handsome in a geeky way. He was about my height, just slightly shorter, light green eyes, and deep tanned skin - no doubt his golden bronze skin was the result of working outside all day.

  Brent, of the five, was the closest to my age and was the brother who had talked the most to me since my arrival. Brent stepped off the boat behind me as Josh asked, “Miss, which Mr. Strayer was your escort today?”

  Josh winked at Brent, logically making the assumption that if he trailed me getting on and off the yacht that I must have been his date. Brent didn’t miss a beat, “Josh, I should have introduced you earlier. This is our little sister, Camille. She’s visiting this week from California.”

  Josh gave a slight bow, “Miss Strayer, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  I held out my hand, “If I can cal
l you Josh, the least you can do is call me Camille, or better yet, Cami.”

  “Sorry, Miss Strayer, house rules.” A part of me thought I should correct being called, “Strayer,” but my new family was obviously well engrained in the community. I was, after all, the illegitimate little sister, no sense giving people anything to gossip about. I gave Josh an awkward smile and followed Brent down the pier.

  As we climbed into the car for the trip to the house, I felt the softness of the leather seats, the cool air blowing on me after being out on the ocean in the heat of the day. I had flown all night and was more tired than I realized. The excitement should have kept me from dozing off, but I must have completely passed out in the car.

  *****

  I awoke in a brightly colored bedroom, a sunny yellow color on the walls, darkness clouding the windows. I had been sleeping in the softest bed I’d ever felt, wrapped by a four-poster mahogany frame. The room was meticulously decorated, from the beautifully framed prints on the wall to the fresh flowers on the dresser. I looked at my watch and couldn’t believe the time: it was 10 p.m.

  “Camille?” A low, gentle voice asked.

  I looked off to my left to see someone sitting on the other side of the room, on what I was sure was an antique loveseat. I sat up quickly, realizing that today hadn’t been some amazing dream. I was really in South Carolina and had spent the day with my five brothers. The room was dimly lit with two lonely lamps illuminating the room. I couldn’t be sure who was sitting across the room, as I wiped the sleep from my eyes. Everyone had been so welcoming that I wasn’t creeped out by someone sitting there in the dark. I answered, “I guess I was more tired than I realized.”

  “I’m glad you’re here. I trust the boys were tolerable today?”

  It was my father, right here in the flesh. I knew from the way he asked the question. My heart began racing, pumping so fast I thought it might beat right out of my chest. I sat up a little straighter, realizing this was really the day I had waited for my whole life. Trying to keep my enthusiasm under control, “They were great. You didn’t mention them when we talked yesterday.”

  We had coordinated every aspect of the trip by email and phone. I’d talked to him several times, but he never once brought up that he had sons, that they would be picking me up, or entertaining me. As I watched him sitting on the love seat, questions flooded into my mind: Why didn’t you tell me about them? What’s your wife think about me staying in your house? Why did you have an affair with my mom? Why did she never tell me about you?

  Chapter 5

  William looked at a loss, and I knew I couldn’t toss all my questions at him at once. He started off apologetically, “I should have prepared you. I was . . . your call was . . . unexpected. I’m sure I neglected to tell you lots of things. They can be a little overwhelming at first, but they’re good boys.”

  I nodded my silent agreement. All those years of badgering my mom for a brother or sister, I had five brothers the entire time and didn’t have a clue. Rather than dwelling on the past, I opted to stay firmly planted in the present. “I can’t believe I’m here. I’ve always wondered who you were.”

  “You must have many questions for me. Ask me anything.”

  I never knew I even had a father, well, logically I knew he existed. How do you tell someone you don’t have the words to even ask the right questions? It was all a little overwhelming. I asked a question that I already knew the answer to, “So, what do you do?”

  “By way of profession? I am a financial advisor. Nothing exciting, but it pays the bills.”

  I caught myself looking around at the room, “You must be good at it.”

  He nodded, “My clients are all very happy with the services I provide.” When I didn’t say anything right away, he broke the quiet with, “Your mother. I’m so very sorry, Camille. It is difficult to lose a parent, and I’m sorry you went through her death alone. If I had known, I would have been there for you.”

  I stiffened a little, “For me. Not for her?”

  “If she had wanted me to be there - yes, for her, too.”

  “She never told me about you, not until just before. . . you know . . . right before she died.”

  “That makes two of us. I wish I would have known about you, Camille. I don’t want to be insensitive, but I have so many things I’d like to know about you.”

  “Ask away. What do ya wanna know?”

  A huge smile enveloped his face, “Everything, Camille. I want to know everything about you.”

  “Hmmm, well, I work as a cashier in a department store. This is my first trip to a state outside of California, but I’ve been to Mexico. Today was the first time I had ever been on a yacht and an airplane, and I’m still a little surprised that I was on both in the same day.” I stopped, trying to gauge what he was looking for.

  “Hobbies?”

  “Nothing major. I love California because one day you can be at Big Bear skiing, the next you can be at the beach surfing, and the next you can gamble at Tahoe. I’m usually on the go, but I don’t have one big interest that I’m tied to.”

  “Boyfriend?”

  I snickered a little, only because this was the same thing Brent had asked me just a few hours ago. “No. No one special.”

  “So your mother did tell you?”

  I turned my head slightly, “What do you mean?”

  “I was worried you might be unaware of your heritage. I didn’t know your mother well, but she had abandoned her herd. When I happened on her, she wanted nothing to do with our kind.”

  What the heck was he talking about? Herd? Mom had never abandoned anyone or anything in her life. We had a stray dog for years that was mean as a snake, but she wouldn’t turn her back on it. She kept feeding the vicious thing even when I begged her to let it starve. “Her herd? What do you mean our kind?”

  Will took on a nervous look, like he’d said something he desperately wanted to take back. “Camille, what did your mother tell you about me? About your family?”

  “Nothing. . . I mean, she wouldn’t tell me anything about you. . . not ‘til the night. . . you know. What do you mean she abandoned her family? Her parents died when she was very young.”

  “Your mother was Angela Chiron. She left her family long ago.”

  With more resolve than I felt, “Her name was Angela Benning and her parents died when she was still a teenager.” Even as I said the words, I remembered the old plane ticket I’d found in my mother’s closet, carefully tucked away from prying eyes, but purposely left for me to find after her death. The name on the ticket had been Angela Chiron. I’d dismissed it at the time, but now. . . who had she abandoned? Did she have other kids?

  Will abruptly changed the subject, “What about school?”

  I answered his question, even though I wanted to know what he meant by she left her family. “I graduated high school, but never had the money to get into college. Maybe someday.” The fact that I’d opted to skip college had never been a sensitive subject for me. After high school I didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life, and Mom had never pushed me.

  Will must have thought more of a degree than I did because he immediately volunteered, “Camille, what’s mine is yours. If you want an education, money isn’t a problem.”

  I turned my head, not sure how to say it without sounding like a jerk, “I’m not asking you for anything.”

  His features were warm and his voice thoughtful, “You needn’t ask. It’s your birthright. I have been blessed with good fortune, and yesterday I found out I was also blessed with a daughter. I’d like a chance to be your father.”

  “I’ve only been your daughter for,” I looked at my watch, six p.m. on the west coast, “less than twenty-four hours. Maybe offering to pay my way through college is something we can hold off on for a few days?”

  Will nodded. I got the feeling that he was
just as nervous and maybe even more excited than I was. He asked, “Are you hungry? We could find something in the kitchen if you are.”

  I hadn’t eaten since lunch. I could only imagine what the kitchen looked like. As we stepped out of my room, I saw this was one doorway in a hall filled with doorways on either side. I didn’t want to gawk, but it looked like six rooms lined the hall. The floor was a highly polished wood that felt cool on my feet. Remembering the heat of the day, it felt good to be barefoot on the floor. I was kicking myself for falling asleep on the way back. I had no idea what the house looked like from the outside, where it was or how I got to my room.

  We found my brothers all huddled around a television. Brent looked over his shoulder and gave a hearty, “Camille! We were wondering if you were down for the count or what? Glad you got up. Dad thought we’d drugged you or something.”

  “I don’t even remember the ride here. Are you sure you didn’t drug me?”

  “High on life, little sister, high on life.”

  Brent and the others turned their attention back to the television as my father motioned me toward the kitchen. I’ve been to Lowe’s, the Home Depot, I’ve even caught myself looking at some majestic kitchens on the “Do-it-Yourself” channel, but I was not prepared for this: granite countertops, stainless steel appliances, enough cabinets to stock a convenience store, and two sinks. My father’s idea of a quick snack and mine weren’t the same.

  I thought we’d be rummaging around the refrigerator for sliced meat to make a sandwich when he pulled a casserole dish out of the oven that was still warm, poured me a glass of wine, and motioned for me to have a seat at the table.

  In awe, I could only ask, “Where’d all this come from?”

  “Gretchen makes the best manicotti in the world. When you were still sleeping, she made a second dish for you and kept it warm. I promise you’ve never tasted anything like it.”

  He was right. I had had some incredible Italian food in my life, but nothing held a candle to this. Conversation was easy. It turned out my father’s parents had lived in this very house. They gave it to him when he started his family. In addition to being a financial wizard of sorts, he was an avid hiker and loved to sail. I was grateful to have some one-on-one time with him, to learn more about him. It seemed odd that my brothers were keeping their distance, and I still hadn’t met his wife. No one so much as peeked through a doorway.