Chapter 12
“Shelly, honey, is everything all right?”
It was her father’s voice. Someone she never would have expected to call her so late—or after such an event. Had he known? Was he somehow watching her house?
“All good here, Dad. How are you?” she asked, not really sure how to come out and ask him what she really wanted to know.
Had he placed—or hired someone to place—the ward, as Mark had called it?
No. It was too ridiculous to contemplate.
Then again… “It’s kind of late for you to be calling. What’s the matter?”
“You should probably be telling me that, don’t you think?” A heavy sigh came over the line. “Something happened at your house tonight, didn’t it?”
“Uh…yeah…something. How did you know?” She toyed with a loose tendril of her hair while she talked to him, feeling like a child all over again. A child who had never quite known what he wanted her to say.
“Maybe you’d better tell me what you saw first,” he backpedalled, slipping into a quieter tone meant to coax her to talk. She remembered that well from her childhood, but she didn’t mind. She loved her father, even if she’d never fully understood him.
She blew out a frustrated breath. “You’d never believe it in a million years.”
“Try me,” he replied gently. “But first, you should know two things. One—your landline is totally secure. Nobody can eavesdrop on our conversation through conventional means. And two—I’ve been waiting for this day for a long time.”
“It’s the middle of the night.” She said literally the first thing that popped into her mind. Her father’s warm chuckle on the other end of the line touched a chord inside her as she sat down on the sofa and tried to figure out how to describe what had just happened.
“Start at the beginning. That always works best,” her father encouraged.
“Well, I was working up in my studio when I looked out the window. No, wait, there was this chill and then a buzzing sound in my head.” She paused, trying to recall the exact sequence of events.
Over the next five minutes, she managed to tell him about everything that had happened up to the point where Mark had emerged from the woods and onto her driveway.
Then, she faltered. How to explain Mark?
Could she even talk about his presence here?
His secret was sacrosanct. It was up to him to decide who knew about him and his people.
It was not her secret to share. She couldn’t make that decision.
But it was okay. Her father picked up the thread of the conversation when her story petered out. He’d been silent the whole time, but it was an encouraging sort of silence, not a condemning one.
She hoped.
“You saw the ward?” her father asked finally, making her question her perception of reality.
That question, right there, indicated he not only knew about the magic shield around her house, but that he knew a lot more about magic than she ever would have suspected. Dear Goddess! He knows about magic?
“I saw the ward,” she said mechanically, stunned by this entire exchange.
“And you shot sparks out of your fingers? Enough to hurl him across the driveway and into the trees?” Her father’s voice continued in that patient, encouraging tone.
She nodded, even though he couldn’t see her. “Yeah, I did, Dad.”
“Oh, Shelly, I’m so proud of you.”
Had his voice just cracked with emotion? Sweet Mother of All. What was happening here?
“I’m getting in the car, and I’ll be right there. Watch for me. It’ll take about fifteen minutes, and then, we’ll talk, okay? Just hold on for another fifteen minutes and don’t step beyond the ward. There might still be danger out there, lurking in the trees.”
“Uh, Dad?” How to explain Mark and his friends prowling in the woods? It was probably okay to at least mention their presence. He’d see them anyway when he got here. Probably.
“Yes, honey?” She could hear him moving around as if he was getting into the car. He must be on his cell.
“There are some people in the yard around my house, but they’re friends. I met someone last week at that fundraiser, and he and I have been working together. He stationed some of his friends around my house, to sort of keep an eye on things after…well, after what happened at the dinner.”
“You mean the dinner where some jackass took a shot at Mark Pepard?”
Her father might not have as much money as he used to, but he still kept up with current events in their social circles. Plus, that had been front page news, though her involvement had been kept mercifully out of the papers. Probably thanks to Mark, she realized now.
“Yeah. Mark asked me to design some structures for a project he’s involved in. We’ve been working together pretty closely for the past couple of days.”
“Mark Pepard?” Her father’s voice took on a serious, low tone. “Honey, do you know what he is?”
“Um…”
“Oh, dear Goddess,” her father breathed over the line. He paused then seemed to gather himself. “Is he there now?”
“Uh…yeah.” She felt safe to say that much, though it certainly sounded like her father knew exactly who and what Mark was. How in the world…?
“Okay. Sit tight. I’m on my way,” her father told her. She could hear his car moving in the background. He was already driving. “Nobody will be able to cross the ward until I reset it. Don’t let him try.”
“He did, but it didn’t shock him. It just didn’t let him in,” she told her dad.
“Really?” Now, her father sounded intrigued. “Hmm. Well, that’s a good sign. You said there were more of his people out there with him?”
“Yeah, and some local…um…friends, who’ve been supplementing his security team. They’ve been here a couple of days.” She could still hardly believe this conversation. Not only did her dad know about magic, but he seemed to know about Mark.
“Good gracious. What in the world did you get mixed up in?” He seemed almost as if he was talking to himself, so she didn’t answer. “Never mind. I’ll be there in a few minutes and we can sort this all out. Shelly, did Pepard see the sparks? Did he see you use your magic?”
“Yeah, Dad. He saw.” If Mark hadn’t seen it this time, he’d certainly gotten a good view on the island. Mark had been the one to recognize the magic for what it was, while she’d still been in denial.
Her father sighed again. “I guess it couldn’t be helped. No matter. Pepard has enough secrets of his own. I doubt he’ll be spilling yours to all and sundry.”
“No, Dad. He wouldn’t do that,” she felt compelled to defend him.
“Oh, bright Lady, you’re not involved with him, are you?”
Shelly cringed. She wasn’t sure what her dad was going to say to this, but she had to tell him the truth.
“Um… Yeah, I guess you could say we’re involved.”
“Dear, oh, dear.” That was an expression her mother used to use. To hear her father say, it now brought back memories. “Do you know if he’s serious?”
“Yeah, I think he is. But I guess you can talk to him when you get here. He’s outside again. I’m going to walk to the door and let him know you’re coming so he can tell his guys to expect you, okay?” Shelly got up and took the phone with her to the door.
Mark had reappeared at the barrier, buttoning the shirt he must’ve discarded in a hurry when he’d seen she needed help. He was dressed again in no time, and she was glad he would be presentable when her father arrived. The situation was complicated enough.
“Hold on for a minute, Dad,” she told her father, then leaned out the door to talk to Mark.
“My dad is on his way in. You might want to tell your friends. He’s probably driving an old silver Rolls.
He says he will reset the ward when he gets here but that I shouldn’t step outside the boundary until everything is secure.
” She could hardly believe she was having this conversation—talking about magic as if she was discussing the latest news. Could her life get any weirder?
Mark’s eyebrows rose as she delivered that last bit. Yeah, he’d figured it out. Her dad knew about magic.
“Sounds like we’ll all have a lot to discuss,” was Mark’s only comment.
William Howell the Fourth was nothing like Mark had expected.
If he’d had the time or inclination to read the detailed dossier he was certain his people had put together on the entire Howell family, complete with photos, he probably would have been better prepared.
Mark had wanted to learn about his mate and her family more naturally, through interaction.
Of course, circumstances had conspired against his plan, and events had accelerated the natural progression.
The man who drove up in a vintage Rolls looked a lot younger than Mark had anticipated.
He gave the appearance of being a much older brother, not the father with the rather intimidating name.
He stepped out of the Rolls easily, his gait that of a much younger man. He had energy to spare, it seemed. And the warning twinkle in his eye as their gazes met wasn’t entirely friendly. Oh, yeah. There was the protective dad side, for sure.
Mark met him in the driveway, holding out a hand in greeting. “You must be Mr. Howell. I’m Mark Pepard.”
“Call me Bill,” Shelly’s father said in a firm voice as their hands met. And there it was. The telltale tingle of magic.
Mark tilted his head in an inquisitive motion but said nothing about the little spark that had just passed between their hands. “Please call me Mark,” he said, instead, hoping to keep this first encounter with his mate’s father on friendly footing.
Bill stepped back and looked at the house. Shelly stood in the entry, and he winked at her, Mark saw. The man had very expressive sparkling blue eyes. He saw now where Shelly got at least part of her good looks from.
“Stay right where you are, sweet pea,” Bill told Shelly. “This won’t take but a moment.”
And with that, he lifted both hands in the air and chanted a few words under his breath that even Mark with his shifter hearing couldn’t distinguish. He felt the rising magic, though. It was powerful and intense.