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Authors: Cyndi Goodgame

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BOOK: Yield
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EMMA

 

“How...”

I couldn
’t form words.

“Let us sit and I will tell you everything I know.”

Ames chuckled behind me, so I threw him a “What’s that for?” look.  He drew in his mouth and mouthed an “I’m sorry” to attempt to tame me.

When I didn
’t let up, he leaned in and whispered beside me, “I only thought it was funny because when someone says that it usually means it could take a long time and well, we don’t have it.  So I couldn’t help thinking maybe the short version would be helpful.”

I couldn
’t figure him out sometimes.  That wasn’t at all what I thought he might be laughing at.  I, of course, thought he was laughing at my grandmother as if she knew nothing worth being here for.  Venus and Mars!

My grandmother stepped back into the room from where she disappeared with a tray of cookies and mugs of something steaming.  I recognized my customary blue tag hanging from the side of the mug.  Earl Grey. 

“You watch me?”  That sounded strangely like I was calling her a stalker.

“My sweet girl.  I have watched over you for many, many years.  If I could have told you who I was, I would have brought you under my wing long ago.”

“Then why didn’t you?”  She headed straight for honest truth, so I hopped on board.

Pushing back a stray strand of silver, she pointed to the cookies with her other hand.   “
Cookies?”

No.  Answers.

“Why couldn’t I know you?”

“Take a sip of your tea and sit back.  I will tell you.”

I obeyed and leaned back onto the pillows not realizing I was clawing my knees with my fingernails even with Ames hand on top of mine.

Ames.  I almost forgot he was with me.

“Your mother was a strong-willed girl who grew into quite the high-spirited woman.”

Ames squeezed my hand.  I gave him a smile to show I found that a good trait and very proud of it.  He grinned back.

“She grew up knowing she was different than others with very much the same color eyes you possess as is known in our family.  She never had very close friends at school because they were all afraid of what she could do.”

She was describing me and she knew it.  My mom grew up sad too.  That just made me feel worse.

Grandma Ryman sipped her tea again.  “When school was over, she went to the junior college on the other side of town to avoid the same kind of people who would say they knew her, but never really
knew
her.  It was there, she met your father.”

I gasped a little bit feeling unable to control of my emotions.
              “Do you need a break?” Ames asked me.

“No.  I
’m fine.”

“No.  He
’s right.  You just arrived and already we are into the sordid details.  Why don’t we talk about the painting for a bit before we move on?  I shouldn’t be so hasty.”

I nodded in agreement still not finding my tongue but managed out, “I
’ve read about the painting too.”  I was hoping she’d give me a clue to knowing if my hunch was right about the treaty.

My grandmother smiled sweetly at me.  “I really admire the courage you show at school to those who show so little mercy for those of us who are different.  Your mother would be very proud.”

She said
us

I
’m not saying thank you for it though.  For a second I was picture flicking through the times I helped someone and she was there…staring at me…knowing who I really was.

Ames spoke up.  “I found the same painting buried at the bottom of a pile of rubble in the cave where my people were—lived before the attack from King Warren.  I couldn
’t ever figure how it managed to get there since it was our home but I kept it safe.  Why do you have one?”

The long skirt my grandmother wore moved with her graceful legs even with her age.  She sat forward in the seat and tilted her head up to see the same painting in question.

“It was given to you by your mother.  You, my dear, have part of this already figured out.  You have already found my letter to your mother.”  She was looking at Ames when she said this indicating Ames’ mother gave a picture of
my
family to
his
family.  I knew last night that the “it” in question was safe somewhere. However, she looked at me when she mentioned the letter.

Ames and my grandmother both looked at me. 

“I wanted to tell you this morning when you came to get me, but I was still upset you never came back last night.”  I turned from his hurt expression to my own older version of myself.  She had the same smile.  “I reread the letter
you
wrote to my mother and I figured it out.  I think I know where the treaty is hidden.”

“Clever just like your mother.  Now you see why you were hidden for so long.  Yes, the goblin realm might have initiated the hidden identity, but they weren
’t the only ones attempting to keep the two of you safe.”

Ames squeezed harder making my fingers hurt. 

“Do you happen to have the letter with you?”

AMES

 

Emma leaned up and pulled a folded piece of torn paper out of her back pocket.  Hearing her tell me she kept a secret from me because of my inability to remain a gentleman in her presence didn
’t set well with me.  I wanted to grovel at her feet and tell her just how bad my need to have her naked body wrapped around me was, but every guy on this earth knows what that would accomplish.  Sleeping alone.

Mrs. Ryman read the letter to herself, smiling and frowning at different stages.

“You are very clever indeed.”  She removed her glasses setting low on her nose.  “Your mom was very concerned with your future after you were born.  When I found out she was pregnant, I was forced to tell her for the first time about the ancestral curse the females in my family seem to have held.”  Her eyes twitched and she forcefully straightened her face to continue.  Did she feel guilty?  Emma felt it too.  Her panicky feeling worked its way to me. 


I had intended to tell her long before, but she was so happy with your father and what mother can bring herself to say to their daughter their life would end in a matter of years before she had really lived.  Anyway, after that, she cut me out of her life.  For two very long years I heard nothing.”

The sadness in her eyes made her age set in.  When she smiled, she looked so much younger.

She continued on.  “When she came to visit me with you, it was the happiest I’d felt since finding out about you.”

Emma asked, “
You weren’t there when I was born?”

“No.”

Emma pulled her hand from under mine and shook it out like it had fallen asleep.  I waited patiently wanting to grab the other and even wrap my arm around to comfort her.

“Your mom was desperate.  She
’d let worry eat at her and couldn’t take the pain any longer.  She wanted to know how to save you from the same fate.  All the books, letters, journals of the past couldn’t disprove what was inevitable. She knew this and just wanted to protect you.”

She eyed me and gave a wearied glance that made me feel like I made her uncomfortable. 
The last of her tea and a cookie later she kept on, “I thought it was the right thing to do, Emma.  You have to understand.  I didn’t know what else to offer.  On one hand pressure was coming my way from your mother to save you while others were hounding me about not breaking the blood you carry.  You’re the last of our line if you perish. Only I knew you would be leader to more than just one. I thought I was doing the right thing.”

“But you
’re a witch,” Emma snipped out.

“Yes.  But not all of us can stop death.  In fact, no one person can.  Only one person do I know has the knowho
w of that secret and she is unattainable.  Many of our kind have known, but if they exist now, I haven’t found them.”

“So you told her to have an arranged marriage,” Emma asked with a disgusted voice.

“It was the only thing I could think of.”

Emma sighed. 
“Okay.  So what now? I don’t want to marry the guy you picked out so I need other options.  And not the ones that end with me dying.”

“Short of not being a witch or him dying and being born again as a human, there isn
’t any.  The kiss is set now.  You’ve set it in motion.   Ames isn’t fully like the men of our past ancestors though few know this.  And it was intentionally kept from me when I made the announcement of the curse.  He has the capability of breaking this curse if the option were there.”

How am I so different?  She said every man before who married into her ancestors were full goblin. 
The old woman’s nervous energy made me think she was offering her own suicide mission to tell us, but if it would save Emma, I wouldn’t worry with that till after.  Chance had a way of changing destiny...or was it really chance.  I sure wanted to find out.

“What is it?  I
’ll do anything.”


I don’t know how to help you.  I can’t fix this.”

Cryptic grandmas hiding ghosts in the closet was just a damn suckster way of showing the girl you love you
’ll eat live snakes to save her soul.

“Then who can?” I all but screamed at her.

“You need to go see someone.”

“Tell me who and where and I
’ll be there.”

Mrs. Ryman
’s smile wasn’t in earnest.  “A Mrs. Virginia Clark.”

 

EMMA

 

The word that came from Ames mouth was new to my vocabulary and not very clean.  I
’d rarely heard the following type of words come from his mouth either. 

“Uh, sorry,” he said running his hands through his hair.

“What is it, Ames?  You’re scaring me.”

“It
’s the curse of the damn grandmothers.  Virginia Clark is my mother’s mother.”


I don’t see the fear in this?”  I sounded like a Shakespeare character.

“His mother was human
, Emma.”  Mrs. Ryman was filling in gaps where Ames was not.

“SO!  I knew that.  I had a hunch.  Something wasn
’t adding up right so I asked Ames to research where he originated.  He just hadn’t gotten back to me on it.”  I stared at a frightened Ames.  “Why see her though?”

I was interrupted, even though I finished, by a screaming, pacing man.  “You knew her all these years.  You knew Emma.  My grandmother.  Who else?” He half stomped in front of the sofa getting angrier.  “Both of you are in on this.  You sabotaged our life for your own gains instead of finding a way to let Emma live a longer life with someone she loves.  Did you once even try to find a different way?”

There was that word again, but not said to me.  The word
love. 
A word that  powerful couldn’t be used lightly.  Or at least not by us.

“Mr. Cahn, I most certainly tried to find a way to keep my granddaughter from dying,” her voice was harsh and direct unlike the sweet little old lady from just moments ago.  “Don
’t pretend to come in my home and go all postal like your father.  That hot temper will get you nowhere.  And for the record, I opposed him too one hundred percent, but when little sparkly hearts are blocking one’s vision, one doesn’t tell their only daughter the one thing that makes a mother lose her forever.”

I waited for the shotgun to come out of the closet and aim down his throat. She was no grandma to mess with.  And it was obvious she spent time in today
’s teenage world of drama because she spoke the lingo way to well for her age.  What grandma says the word “postal”?

Hotheaded, he was.  Ames pulled the standard clump of hair from his head in a futile attempt to refrain from hitting something.  Boy did I know him well.

“Ames, listen to me.”  I grabbed his shirt and pulled him to me.  “You need to calm down.  I can’t help when the two of you talk in circles.”  I pressed my hand into his chest and he latched onto it causing more pain then he meant to so I bared it quietly.

“She knows more than I do.  She would never tell me more.  Maybe she will talk to you,” shared Mrs. Ryman.

“I’ve never even met the woman.” Ames pulled on his hair and my hand at the same time.

“A poor mistake on her part like my own mistakes.  She refused to let your mother marry a man who would take her away from her mother.  She told her daughter she never wanted to see her again if she married him.  And sadly, she didn
’t know you existed till after your parents were dead.”

Ames buried his face in his hands and sat on the edge of the sofa leaving his face showing me at least that he wasn
’t crying.  I’ve never seen him cry.

He rested both elbows on his knees.  “Then how did she know?”
              “I told her.”

You know when you get one of those creepy hair on the back of your neck feelings like something bad was coming or something worse was about to be said?  That was one of those moments right now.

“And how is it you came to know Ames mother?”  I asked not sure I really wanted to know.

The nice old lady turned dark eyed secret keeper looked hard into my face and said, “I
’ve known her all my life.”

Crap a brick.

BOOK: Yield
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