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“I can’t,” I corrected, then pulled the letter from my pocket, sealed in yellow beeswax. “However, I can give you this. It might help explain some things. And before you ask, no, I don’t know what’s in it.”
Rob Bryant frowned at the letter, then narrowed his stare at me before taking it and breaking the seal. His mouth slowly parted as he read.
He folded it back into place, then raised narrowing silver eyes to me. “Where did you find this?”
I had been prepared for this question, but it wasn’t until this moment that I had a good answer.
“I can’t tell you that either,” I answered. “Sorry.”
He lifted his chin, and suddenly I caught a whiff of a scent so enticing, so drug inducing that I found my head fogging over...
I gave it a hard shake. “I know that trick, Mr. Bryant. It won’t work on me. I’m not sure why.”
I was about to share that his own brother tried this on me a few times, then laughed at his own failure for it to make me compliant to his enticing will. I think he actually liked the fact that he couldn’t.
Maybe it was my weird genetics.
Thanks again, mom.
This startled Rob Bryant even more. I suppose I was an incredible puzzle to this man who was used to having his own way for several decades.
“Seems you’re quite a mystery, Callista,” he said, studying me with more interest now. “What can you tell me then?”
Better.
“I know where you can find the family trees of several important Arcan leaders here in the Pacific Northwest,” I began. “Which can help you identify who’s really in power around here, and how to take them out.”
* * *
After a long, blissful hot shower, a change into my own current-day clothing and full night’s rest back at my Seattle hotel, I woke the next morning, half hoping that my modern life had been the dream, and I would again wake in the arms of the wolfman I loved in our rustic log cabin in the woods.
I wiped back the tears that this wasn’t the case, then threw back the satin comforter and headed for the bathroom with all its amenities. Things I would happily give up, if only I could have my mountain man beside me again.
There were things to do today though. Lots of people to see. Lots of research to be done. No time to weep and mourn my past and dread my dismal future. There was time enough in my upcoming, boring, singular future for that.
Donning my business attire and twirling my long hair up into a proper bun, I called for a taxi to drive me to the main office of Newcastle Industries a few hilly streets away. I took the elevator up to the nineth floor, stepping out into the bustling business office and walked with purpose up to the main reception desk.
“I’d like to speak with Logan Thorne, please,” I told the older woman manning the phones.
“I’m sorry, did you have an appointment, ma’am?” she asked, clicking off her last call.
“No, but he’ll see me. Callista McEwan.”
I waited for the reluctant woman to make the call, then knew I was in-like-Flynn when her eyes widened and her smile at me broadened.
With sure steps I stalked down the carpeted hallway to the large corner office. Logan was already circling around his executive desk towards me.
“Callista! My dear, how are you? You must still be so distressed by that awful ordeal. An earthquake in the cave I hear. Very strange, there doesn’t seem to be any recordings of the event.”
He touched my shoulder, guiding me to sit on the couch by the window.
“I was so relieved to hear that you made it out safely though,” he said. “I take full responsibility for the mishap. No, really, it’s my fault. I should’ve had our engineers shore up that old tunnel before you stepped one foot inside. Did you want something to drink? Pastry or scones? I could have Chelsea bring in—”
“Nothing, thanks,” I cut him off before he reached for the call button to his assistant. “I’ve actually come here on another matter.”
His eyes widened, startling me with their familiarity. “Which matter do you mean?”
“You know, don’t you? About me,” I said with arched brow.
