15. Chapter 15
“Nadia gave me something,” I said to Isla as we walked into her apartment. My flight was in a few hours, but I had to see what was on the drive. “Albert doesn’t need to know about it.”
“What is it?” She asked as I placed my laptop on the counter and slid in the flash drive. I opened the folder and scrolled through the files inside. There were hundreds of photos, docs and spreadsheets, and I randomly clicked on one of the images.
Fuck.
“Who’s that?” Isla asked as she perched on a barstool and stared at my screen.
“My father.” The photo had been taken a few years before he died and even though his face was obscured, I recognized him, the sandy hair, the shit eating grin that I’d inherited.
I clicked on a few more, the final picture a young boy, dressed in overalls and nothing else.
Barefoot, comfortable in the swamp as he yelled at someone out of frame. “That’s me.”
“Cute,” Isla said with a grin as I continued going through the files. “Maybe Gus was holding onto them, you know, family mementos.”
“Possibly, but why would Nadia know about them?” I opened one of the spreadsheets and stared at the chart inside.
It was our family tree, my dad’s name had a strikethrough and I shook my head as I looked at the others.
Ray, Gus and I were at the bottom. There was a question mark next to my name and an asterisk beside Ray's.
Most of the rest were crossed out, my Uncle Billy wasn’t, that made me happy. He had been my father’s most loyal beta, an absolute rock, and I remembered how much I loved him as a kid.
I scrolled up, looking at my other relatives — grandparents, great uncles, other great-greats I never knew — until I reached the top of the tree. It was the originator of our pack, my fifth great-grandfather, Thomas Graysonne.
“He came from France,” I said. “Settled in New Orleans for a few years, set up a mercantile, but the locals wouldn’t stop harassing him, so he moved just outside of Baton Rouge.
Our family lived there until…” I left it, there was no need to rehash.
“But I still don’t understand why they have this, and why Nadia would have known about it. ”
Isla stared at the screen as I opened another family tree, immediately recognizing the names listed.
“Holy shit. That’s the Three Lakes Pack.
They controlled the territory next to us.
My father and Graham Kincaid, their alpha, were always at each other’s throats.
” I explained as I scrolled through the rest of the information — family trees, addresses, contacts, photos.
Some of it was familiar, all of it detailed.
A few of the files contained technical information, most of it simply tracking and genealogy.
Nadia wanted me to have it, but why?
“Maybe we should tell Albert about this.” Isla said and I shook my head.
“Absolutely not. Albert wants to kill Gus, but my brother could’ve been coerced into this, lied to.” I sounded more confident than I felt. I’d always had suspicions that Gus had something to do with the raid on our compound, but had never said it out loud. “I have to talk to him.”
“I understand, and I’ll support you, but there’s something else going on here. Something that could change everything.” I waited patiently as she pulled her work tablet out of her bag and scrolled through the files.
“I looked more closely into that pentagram you sent, the symbol in the center. The same one that was on the necklaces.” I nodded and stared at her screen as she pulled up the image.
“I recognized a name that was associated with the rune.” She sounded excited.
Isla lived for research, loved making connections between seemingly unrelated events and this information was right up her alley.
“Who?” I couldn’t imagine that any of my family would be involved with witches.
My father had always called them scammers, charlatans.
We knew a few backwoods wise women who claimed to sell love potions, spells, charms — mostly voodoo mixed with false promises.
His disdain ran deep and I’d always felt the same way.
“Emmanuelle Graysonne, that’s it. I knew I recognized that name. She was the most famous, infamous really, witch in New Orleans. Her family name was Roubaix and she married Thomas to escape some…legal issues.”
“What? I’ve never heard of her.” I took the tablet from Isla’s hands and scrolled through the information. Her life was extremely well documented — born to an aristocratic family in France, fled to America during the reign of Terror — “Convicted of murder?” I said aloud and Isla shrugged.
There was a painting of her near the bottom of the biography, wearing a necklace with a similar symbol to the one Nadia had been given. “Christ. What does this mean?”
“Can lycans breed with non-lycans?”
“Occasionally, but it's rare. I've heard of a few instances of human females having half breeds, but I always assumed it was a rumor. My father said it was impossible.”
“Your father was wrong and he's the result.” Isla sounded confident. “Thomas and Emmanuelle only had one child together, correct?” I glanced at the family tree to confirm.
“Yeah, but…”
“And he was your fourth great grandfather?”
“Okay, fine, but I still don't understand what difference it makes. Am I a witch or a warlock or whatever?”
“No, you're a lycan, but you said your younger brother never shifted, right?”
“Yeah, but he was young…”
“Magical ability can skip generations, sometimes many generations. It's possible that it manifested in him, but you didn't know what you were looking at. Someone else might have known exactly what they were looking for.”
“You're saying Ray…” Maybe it wasn't me they were after. Maybe it was Ray, and I left him. All these years I'd assumed I'd done the right thing, but the suspicion that I was wrong was crushing. “We still don't know if or how he fits into this.”
Isla paced, lost in thought, connecting dots — all of it sounded too crazy to be true.
I looked at the family tree again. Thomas had three sons, but only one with Emmanuelle.
His second wife was lycan, but those lines died off years ago.
Ours survived, flourished. Had they been hiding something all those years? Something they didn’t want me to know?
I had one week to figure it out.
“My flight leaves soon,” I said as I shoved my things into my bag and leaned down to kiss her. “Please keep an eye on Nadia, and let me know the second she wakes up.” I hated that I wouldn't be there for her, but I trusted Isla. “Tell her I had to leave, that I didn't have a choice.”
“I will, but promise me you'll be careful. I don't want to regret my decision to stay.” Her eyes softened and I leaned down to kiss her again, hoping that I'd at least be able to give her that. “There’s a coven in Baton Rouge who should be able to help. I’ll get in touch. I have a feeling they’ll be very interested to know that you’re on your way. ”