Page 97 of Touched By Destiny

“She’s good,” Richard answered, his blue gaze filled with concern. “Sit. Eat your potatoes. Mari’s sleeping. She was up about an hour ago and ate. Not surprisingly, she’s worried about you. How are you doing?”

Eric exhaled and let go of Gabriel’s hand as he sat so he could dig into his meal. “I’m going to be fine. And the better Mari is, the faster I’ll heal emotionally. I hate that she put herself in such a vulnerable position. But I’ll be honest, I never thought Alden would shoot her.”

“I’m so fucking sorry,” his father said, hanging his head. “My own brother.” He lifted his eyes and swallowed thickly ashe glanced briefly at David. “Betrayal is worse when it’s close to home.”

David hopped up and hugged Clark as he cried.

“It’s not like Ezra,” David whispered so softly Eric nearly missed the words.

“I disagree. Pain is pain, David. I can’t forgive Alden any more than I can Ezra.”

It was neither the time nor the place to ask the questions Eric had about Ezra and what had happened before he was born, but someday he hoped to learn the story.

“Don’t apologize, Dad. The only people responsible are Alden and his friends, who are in jail right now.”

“It helps that the girlfriend is fully cooperating with the police. They think she may be a little afraid of her brothers, but she knew what Alden was up to,” Eric’s mother said. “He was the mastermind.”

“And we should only be talking about it if that’s what Eric wants,” Richard remarked, his mouth pinched.

“We aren’t going to pretend it didn’t happen,” Eric stated emphatically. “But no guilt. No blaming yourselves. We thought it was Arwynn, and we were wrong.”

Gabriel shook his head between bites. “What that man must be thinking. I can’t count the number of times I called him.”

“At least he just ignored you and you never got to the stage of confronting him about anything,” Eric teased.

“It would appear that Arwynn really was just after putting together some kind of alliance,” Eric’s father said. “I wish him luck. I’d love to discover what happened to his father and why he’s even more secretive than us, but I also understand his desire for privacy.”

“Yes, having the Marwood name splashed across the news isn’t the smartest way to protect our secrets,” his mother added. “One more thing to heap on Alden’s head.”

“David, I appreciate the comfort, but go finish your dinner,” Clark gently told David, who was still embracing him.

With a small smile and one last squeeze, David returned to his seat, and Eric’s mother patted his cheek.

“What can we do for you now, Eric?” Richard asked.

“Just be my family as you have my whole life. I still feel like this entire thing was a horrible nightmare. But I also saw Mari get shot. I know it was real. I was terrified. And I can’t understand why Alden turned on me and my kind. But I have to say, I’m growing sick of the way necros blame the destiny-touched foreverything.”

“That’s understandable,” Gabriel said, resting a hand on Eric’s thigh. “The destiny-touched are always the scapegoat for the problems of necromancers.”

“Our job is to convince necros to revere the destiny-touched just as they do inspirits like Gabriel,” Eric’s father said.

“Gabriel doesn’t consider himself an inspirit,” Eric replied with a smile for his soulmate.

“I think I separated myself because I wanted to dwell on the guilt and circumstances of my past. To be an inspirit was a far more honorable life than I thought I ought to have,” Gabriel responded, his green gaze thoughtful but no longer haunted by Samael’s life and death. “I thought everyone secretly blamed me for Samael’s death. How dare someone resurrected murder their own summoner? I had to face the truth. Like Alden, Samael made choices. And he deserved to pay for them.”

“It’s so wonderful to hear you say that,” Eric’s mother replied, patting Gabriel’s shoulder. “You’re a fantastic inspirit. Each inspirit brings such wonderful joy to the lives of every necromancer they know. We’re the ones who are grateful foryou—and for your forgiveness since we resurrected you without your permission.”

“There are inspirits capable of dishonor and hurt,” Eric’s father stated firmly. “But they are rare exceptions, not the norm.”

Eric finished up his steak and demolished the last of the potatoes on his plate. He finished his meal with a thick piece of bread that he smothered in butter.

“Speaking of inspirits, where is Takoda? I’ve barely had the chance to thank him for following me and helping everyone find me.”

His mother sighed. “He insisted on having his own room. He’s one floor down and refuses to come upstairs to the suite. You’ll have to convince him to visit us tomorrow if you want to talk to him in person.”

“I will, Mom. Even if I have to go to his room, I want to talk to him. I’m grateful he was there for me.”

Richard stood and grabbed plates to stack them on the cart room service had provided. “Are you going to get some rest, Eric?”

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