Page 49 of Seduce Me in Shadow

Some of the uncertainty leaves her eyes, and I see a flash of the Sydney I know. “All right. But that’s not personal. You know all about my parents, but you’ve hardly spoken of your own.”

“As I said, they’re elderly and frail. They live outside of York.”

“Are they able to visit Lucan?”

“They don’t know about his condition.” That’s another thing that makes me feel like a shit. “I don’t dare tell them. I fear them knowing their elder son is…unwell would be too much at their age.”

She nods sympathetically. “What will you do if the worst happens?”

“Lucan is receiving care from experts. He’s strong, and I’m by his side. I can’t lose faith that he’ll pull through.”

“Thank you for sharing that. I’m sorry about your brother. Tell me about his condition.”

Some part of me wants to open up to Sydney, share my burden with her. The urge is nearly as compelling as my need to make love to her again.

“His disorder is mental. They’ve put him under because he’s a danger to himself and others.”

“Oh, my god.” Empathy softens her dark eyes.

“That’s why I haven’t wanted to talk about his condition.”

She nods, her fiery hair sliding over her bare shoulders. “I’m sorry. I have a nasty habit of prying. The curse of being a reporter.”

“I understand.”

“While I’m prying, I wonder if you’d answer another question for me.”

I stiffen. Already I’ve said more than I should. With Sydney, I’m walking a tightrope. Using her leaves a bad taste in my mouth, but staying by her side until I get the information necessary to help my brother is critical.

“I’ll try.”

“Why move to the States? Why leave for so long if your parents are elderly? Why join the U.S. Marines? Why?—”

“One question at a time.” I hold up a hand to stay her with an indulgent glance. “I moved overseas at eighteen. Went to school for a bit where I met some Marines and decided to join them. I obtained a green card, quit school, went to basic.” I shrug. “My parents and I…didn’t see eye-to-eye about my future, and a dozen years ago, putting distance between us seemed like a good idea.”

A huge understatement. My mother, once a gifted seer like many witches in her line, insisted that I would someday embrace my considerable magic and distinguish myself as a champion. Rubbish!

By the time she started making such predictions, Westin was dead, and I swore to disavow magic. After leaving home, I avoided magickind and made a home for myself in the States among humans. I haven’t wanted life another way since.

“So you moved to another country?”

Put like that, my decision sounds extreme. “They had Lucan to carry on the usual traditions. I wasn’t interested.”

“A family business?”

“Something like that,” I hedge. “Anyway, I joined the Marines because it was far, far from home, and I wanted to fight—something my parents were against.” At least in the human sense.

“You were a rebel.”

“Quite. I don’t regret anything, and I’ve made some great friends.”

While a Marine, I felt as if I fit in for the first time in my life. No one knew about my magical family or had expectations of me becoming a wand-waving Superman. Sure, my platoon ribbed me about being British and having a teacup up my ass and the like, but they respected the fact I was a crack shot, could wipe thefloor with most in hand-to-hand combat, and was without peer when it came to explosives. I bloody miss them like hell.

I’m happy to help Bram and the Doomsday Brethren learn those skills. But lending my magic to their cause? I don’t have any. Nor do I want it.

“Are you still friends with them?”

Pain is a stinging reminder, like a wound that just won’t heal. “Sadly, many died in Afghanistan. A few committed suicide after coming home. Another went to prison. One is missing. I’m one of the few left standing.”

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