Visions (Cainsville #2)(118)



As I looked for a reaction, I realized how eerily still he was. People are rarely still. They blink or they shift or they twitch or they tap. Patrick stood perfectly motionless. No sign to tell me that I was on the right path. But no denial, either. He just waited.

“When I mentioned the man that Seanna wanted Gabriel to stay away from, you said, ‘Perhaps he gave her a gift she didn’t want. It happens, between men and women.’ That was my hint, wasn’t it? Or maybe you were just amusing yourself, presuming I was too clueless to get it.”

“I would never underestimate you, Olivia.”

“But you won’t tell me anything, either. You fear the others.”

Did I hope that would spur him to talk, like a child proving he isn’t afraid of the bullies? If so, I needed to remind myself that he wasn’t human. I couldn’t expect him to act like one.

He shrugged. “I fear the loss of a comfortable life. But I do believe there are exceptions to rules, times when rules ought to be broken. It would be better for all if you understood more. Safer. For you, in particular.”

“No, for Gabriel in particular, because you’re the one who gave Seanna that so-called gift. You gave her a son.”

He said nothing.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” I said.

“Is that your question?”

Yes, it was, and he didn’t even need to answer. I could see it in his reaction—or his lack of one.

“How old was she?” I said.

“Old enough.”

“So you impregnated a drug-addled—”

“Seanna’s problems came later. At the time, she was a promising young woman.”

“Until she was, what, eighteen and saddled with a baby?”

He eased back. “Yes, I seduced her. For my own amusement. The outcome was not intended, but it’s the risk you take. And there were signs.”

“Signs?”

“Yes, signs. Portents, your area of expertise. And I’ll say no more on the matter or I really will get myself in trouble. I seduced Seanna. She became pregnant. While charms were enough for her to forget exactly who the father was, she clearly retained enough awareness to not want Gabriel associating with me.” He got to his feet. “And with that, I should take my leave—”

“Like you took your leave of Gabriel?”

He looked at me.

“You abandoned him,” I said. “You watched him grow up. You had to know what happened later, when she died and he was alone. And you did nothing.”

“What would you have me do, Olivia? Find him a better family? That’s what they wanted. The other elders. I refused. He needed to stay with his mother.”

“The drug addict who neglected him. Who made his life such a hell that when she disappeared, he never even thought she might be dead. How bad does a mother need to be for her fifteen-year-old to presume she’d abandon him?”

“So you think I should have let them switch him?” His brows lifted. “We are monsters for what we did to the Conways’ child, giving her to a troubled family to make way for our own, but if it was Gabriel who’d have gotten a better life . . . ?”

“I only meant that you should have done something. You were responsible for him, Patrick. For creating him. For creating the situation. And when it all went to hell, you turned your back—”

“Do you know how they temper steel, Olivia?”

“I don’t care—”

“The application of controlled heat. As strong as the metal will withstand. That produces the most resilient steel. Too much and it will break. It must be tough, yet slightly malleable. Adaptable to the greatest number of situations. That’s Gabriel. He’s been tested and tempered and—”

“And he is a person!” I roared, unable to hold back any longer. “He is not a sword. Not a tool. I don’t care what the hell you had in mind for him. You screwed him over, and now you tell me you were tempering—”

The sound of footsteps cut me short. They came from the walkway to my apartment, as a figure ran down the path. It was too dark to see more than a shape, but there was no question who it was. Gabriel didn’t slow until he’d emerged into the moonlight and saw who I was with.

“Sorry,” I called. “Everything’s fine.”

He glanced at Patrick, then at me again. “I’ll wait . . .” He motioned back toward the path.

I nodded, and he retreated between the buildings, far enough for privacy but not letting me out of his sight, either.

I started walking away. I had what I’d come for. The rest was just anger, futile rage.

Before I could open the gate, Patrick caught my arm.

“Look at him, Olivia,” he whispered.

I did, in spite of myself, glancing at Gabriel, backed into the shadows now but still visible, the set of his shoulders and his jaw, the glitter of his pale eyes, fixed on us, watching for trouble.

“You know what kind of man he is,” Patrick said, his voice low. “You know what he’s capable of. His intelligence. His strength. His resourcefulness. That is the result of the choices I made. Would you really have him any other way?”

“Yes.” I met Patrick’s gaze. “I would have him happy.”

He didn’t miss a beat. “Maybe that part is up to you.”

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