Daughter of the Spellcaster

He looked as puzzled as if she’d lapsed into ancient Babylonian.

She rolled her eyes, sighed deeply. “It doesn’t matter anyway,” she said. “Bahru did mention that I would have to be present when the will was read, but he didn’t say when. So you’re saying it’s now?”

“Yeah.” He looked at his watch. “Right now. In Dad’s den.” He looked toward the house, the people wandering in and out. Then he popped the clutch and drove the car around to the back.

The wide stone deck was devoid of furniture. The umbrella tables had been put away for the winter, and the pool was sealed tight. Even so, the back of the house had a much more relaxed feel to it than the front.

“Come on, we’ll miss the crowds this way.”

Lena got out. She was feeling pretty pissed that he hadn’t yet figured out why she had left him, much less apologized for it. Or, God forbid, taken it back. But what the hell? It was water under the bridge. They had tried. And they had failed. She would never regret it. And maybe the whole thing—the vision, the fantasy, his resemblance to her prince—maybe all that hadn’t happened to fulfill their star-crossed love affair from the long-ago past lives she was convinced they’d had. Resolving that, might never have been the reason. Maybe it was all about the baby. She’d found him, been drawn to him, and he’d given her a baby. Perhaps that was the purpose all along.

He came to her side quickly, his hand on her elbow irritating her for no good reason. She jerked it away from him before she could stop herself.

“What?” he asked.

“I’m pregnant, Ryan. Not injured or weak or fragile. I’ve been waddling around just fine without you holding on to me for months now. I think I can make it to the back door without help.”

“Oh.”

He stood where he was while she headed up the three broad stone steps onto the deck and across it to the French doors. And then she paused, because she wasn’t sure whether to knock or wait or what the hell to do.

He came up beside her and reached past her to open the doors, and they headed inside. The French doors led directly into the den, which had been Ernst’s favorite room in the house. And no wonder. From it you could see the entire back lawn and the gardens, and you could walk straight out to the deck and then to the pool off the far end of it, any time you felt like a break. It was a perfect place to work.

Bahru was sitting cross-legged on the floor, eyes closed, holding on to that quartz pendant around his neck. Another man sat at Ernst McNally’s big desk, shuffling papers. They were the only people in the room.

Must be a small will.

“Ahh, Ryan, good. And you must be Lena,” said the man behind the desk, getting to his feet and coming around with a hand extended. “Ernst spoke very highly of you.”

“Thank you, that means a lot to me, Mr.…?”

“Aaron Samuels,” he said. “Please, have a seat.”

She nodded and headed for the two chairs that were situated in front of the desk. Bahru was sitting just past them. As she drew closer he opened his eyes, and they flashed red as they met hers. She sucked in a breath and stumbled backwards, crashing into Ryan’s chest. His arms came around her fast.

“Hey, I thought you said you could walk without help, sunshine?”

Turning her head, she looked up into his eyes. Her heart was pounding, and she opened her mouth but didn’t know what to say.

“What is it, Lena?” he asked.

“I—” She looked at Bahru again. No glowing red eyes. He was getting to his feet and smiling as warmly as ever. So she glanced back at the French doors to see the bright orange of the sunset beaming in through them and sighed. “Nothing, I’m fine.” And jumpy, she thought. “Good to meet you, Mr. Samuels. Hello again, Bahru.”

He pressed his hands together and bowed slightly over them.

She let Ryan keep hold of her and seat her in the first chair, and then he took the other chair—the one she’d been heading for, the one that was closer to Bahru—himself.

“I know this has been a miserable day for all of us,” the lawyer said. “So I’m not going to spend a lot of time on the minutiae.”

Lena glanced at Ryan as the man went on, and they shared an unspoken “Who the hell says minutiae?” moment. He even smiled a little.

The lawyer was still going on. “… right to the gist of it, which is really simple enough.”

“Ryan, you of course inherit the bulk of the estate. The holdings, the money, the mansion, the fleet of cars, both jets, the businesses—”

“I was afraid of that.” Ryan sighed and leaned forward a little, as if something very heavy had just landed on his shoulders.

Lena reached out and slid her hand over his, then tried to take back the intimacy of the move by patting it instead of holding it. “You can sell it all. You can let the board run it. It doesn’t have to be a burden to you, Ryan,” she whispered.

He nodded.

“As for you, Magdalena,” the lawyer went on, “Ernst was very specific. First off, the deed to your home has been marked ‘paid in full.’“

She blinked. “What? But I don’t—”

“The vineyard belonged to Ernst, Magdalena,” Bahru said softly. “He was afraid you wouldn’t want it if you knew. He’d bought it long ago, hoping to retire there one day with his beautiful Sarah. They had such plans for the place—but then she died and…”

“That’s the vineyard where you’ve been living?” Ryan burst out.

“I bought that vineyard from Ernst?” she shouted at the same moment.

Samuels held up both hands. “One of his holding companies, to be specific, but yes, that’s what it comes down to.”

“But I wanted to do this on my own.”

“Dad didn’t like to let anyone he cared about do anything on their own,” Ryan said. “Trust me, Lena, I totally get your indignation.” He tugged her arm until she looked at him. “But hey, it doesn’t have to be a burden on you,” he said, repeating her own words back to her. “You can always sell it.”

“That’s not the point.”

“I know.”

All right, all right, she knew what he was saying. Her homilies about him being able to sell his father’s empire, about not letting it be a burden, were beside the point. The man had imposed his will on his unwilling son, and it didn’t feel good. She shared the feeling firsthand now and acknowledged that with a slow nod. His expression said that he received the message.

“If you don’t mind,” the lawyer said, clearing his throat to get their attention, “there’s more.”

She sighed but didn’t sit back down. “What else?”

“Ernst collected an impressive number of books and even some scrolls on his travels. Hundreds of writings, obscure religious texts and—”

“The sacred teachings of all times,” Bahru explained. “He said you were one of the few people he had ever known who would appreciate his collection.”

Lena blinked in absolute stunned shock, and thudded heavily into her chair again. Tears welled up in her eyes. “Oh, my God. I can’t believe he did that.”

“Wait, wait,” Ryan said. “He gives you a vineyard, you’re pissed. But he gives you a pile of musty old books and you’re in tears?”

She spared him only a quick scowl before turning to Bahru. “But you should have them, Bahru.”

He shook his head. “They were meant for you. Where would I put them, once I am free to return to my endless journeying?”