Keeper(47)

“I know,” I said. “The big, bad wolf will come after me. But who—” A knot formed in the pit of my stomach. “Wait.You just said I’m the only one left with DuCarmont blood. Serena said the same thing. But that’s impossible. What about you?”

All the blood drained from Gareth’s face.

“Gareth,” I tried again, louder this time. “You’re my uncle. You were her brother. You’re a DuCarmont, too . . . aren’t you?” I searched his face, anxious to see recognition of his mistake, but there was nothing but guilt. That look said everything.

“I’m gonna throw up.” I pushed out of the chair and crossed the room. A worn bucket sat in the corner, and I snatched it up, gripping its sides while my stomach pitched and rolled.

Gareth walked up behind me but didn’t say a word. I waited until I was certain I wasn’t going to hurl before I turned to face him. “You’re not my real uncle.” It wasn’t a question.

“No,” he confirmed, “I’m not.”

I took a deep breath and turned back toward the trash can just in case. I squeezed my eyes shut, refusing to spill the tears of frustration that were forming.

I gripped the can for a moment before finally shoving it away. It fell to its side with a loud clatter, and I whirled around to face Gareth, my chest heaving. “Was anything real?” I spat. “God, how many more secrets are you keeping from me?”

“None,” Gareth replied. “I swear.”

“How can I even trust you anymore?” I demanded, trying not to let the hurt show on my face. “I don’t even know who you are.”

Gareth grimaced. “Lainey, I will explain everything if you’ll give me the chance.” He took a hesitant step forward. “Please, you have to understand, everything I did, all the secrets, it was to protect you.”

I stepped backward, away from him. I wasn’t going to forgive as easily this time. “Start talking.”

With a heavy sigh, Gareth began to speak. “Your mom, Serena, and I were friends; more than that, really. We were family. We grew up together, did everything together.” He swallowed. “So when things got bad and your mom had to go into hiding, Serena and I went with her. We thought it would be safer, that the three of us would be strong enough to protect each other.”

Gareth broke off, his voice choked. He took a few deep breaths and kept going. “Everything was fine for a few years. Your mom met your dad, and they had you. It was the happiest I’d ever seen her.”

Gareth walked back over to the table and sank down into one of the chairs, as if the burden of his story weighed heavily upon him. “After your dad was killed, she knew it was only a matter of time. She knew she had to leave, to run, so that you would be safe. She made me promise to take you away, to hide you from everyone.” He looked up at me, his eyes full of grief. “You were calling me Uncle Gareth from the time you learned to talk. It was just easier.”

He sniffed. “I loved her, Lainey, and I swore to look after you, to keep you safe. And that’s what I’ve tried to do these last sixteen years.”

My head was swimming. It made sense, and I even understood why he’d kept so many secrets from me, but it still didn’t diminish the betrayal and anger boiling underneath my skin.

“I was planning to show you this place,” Gareth said, his voice breaking through my thoughts. “I can’t help you with your magic, but I can show you how to protect yourself.” He stood up and walked over to the weapons wall. He retrieved the bronze sword he’d been using earlier, as well as a sheathed dagger the size of my forearm.

He walked back to me, the smaller sword in his outstretched hand. “I’m good with most weapons, but long swords are my specialty.” He had a sheepish grin on his face; this was a side of Gareth I’d never seen before.

“I don’t understand,” I said, staring at the sword in Gareth’s hand but refusing to touch it. “Why can’t you train me to use my magic? If the pulses are the problem, I have to learn to control them, to keep my magic in check.”

Gareth’s face flushed, and he smiled sheepishly again. “Witches are incredibly secretive about their magic.” He motioned for me to take the sword. “My expertise is elsewhere, I’m afraid.”

I stared at him. Even though I knew the truth, it was still hard to fathom that the man in front of me, the man who had taken care of me my whole life, wasn’t who I thought he was. The ache in my chest nearly crippled me.

“And I’m guessing the reason you don’t know much about magic is because you don’t have any, right?” It seemed a logical enough question.

“Oh, I have magic,” Gareth replied. “Just not your kind of magic.” He pointed to the ceiling. “I created this room, for example.” He chuckled at little at the confusion on my face. “I’m one of the Fey. Warping dimensions is a specialty of ours.”

“The Fey?”

Gareth nodded. “Lainey . . .” He leaned in closer, resting his hand on my shoulder and looking me in the eye. “I’m a Faerie.”

I blinked. “A Faerie?

“A Faerie.”

“What the hell?” The words tumbled out before I could stop them. Everything I knew about Faeries involved clapping, pixie dust, and tiny shimmering wings. As I stared at Gareth, tall and broad with muscular shoulders and a menacing sword in his hand, I was having a hard time reconciling the two images in my brain.