Wildfire

Edward closed his eyes and breathed in, deeply.

The azalea bloomed harder, as if trying to comfort him.

“Put the guns away,” I murmured.

The security chief slowly lowered his weapon.

“He nearly killed his own children, the fucking moron,” Edward snarled. “He almost murdered his wife. He almost killed me. He ruined the future of our House. Now, when people talk of Sherwoods, they’ll think of murder, treachery, and conspiracy.”

His eyes snapped open.

“Fourteen years. Fourteen years I kept BioCore afloat. I pulled it back from the brink of bankruptcy after our senile asshole of a father drove it into the ground. I kept it afloat when Brian’s research stalled, because he needed time for himself, because he was too overwhelmed and under too much pressure. That little fucker, what the hell does he know about pressure? We all shielded him from it since he was a baby. I kept the creditors at bay. I made deals. I put my own future on hold to keep the House afloat. Olivia was only marginally connected to us, and the effect on our business was catastrophic. Olivia’s betrayal hurt us, but given time, I would’ve pulled us back from it. But now it’s over. He is the fucking Head of our House. His involvement will get out. Rynda’s already a social pariah. With her husband and her mother connected to this mess, nobody will believe she’s innocent. There is no way to overcome the taint. It will strangle the future of his children. He’s finally killed us. We’re done.”

I didn’t know what to say. That was decades of resentment spilling out.

The room was quiet as a tomb.

“Colin,” Edward said.

“Yes, sir?” the chief of security asked.

“Inform my mother that in light of the recent events, I’ll be assuming leadership of the House. What’s left of it. Explain to her that the golden child has driven us into the ground. Also, advise her to prepare for the BioCore bankruptcy filing.”

“Yes, sir.”

The security chief stepped out into the hallway.

Edward looked at me.

“I need to find out why,” I told him. “Could he have done it for money?”

Edward shook his head. “Rynda is independently wealthy. Last night she offered to bail out the company. She views all of our current problems as her fault.”

“Did you take her up on it?”

“No.”

True.

“Not only that, but I made sure that our personal wealth was at least partially shielded. If . . . when BioCore goes under, Brian will still have ample funds to live his life in comfort. Not extravagantly, but in comfort.”

“Is it possible that he did it to keep BioCore afloat?”

Edward laughed.

“I take it that’s a no.”

“No.”

Brian had very few ambitions. That left only one possible motive. “Did your brother ever express dissatisfaction with his marriage?”

Edward sighed. “He came to me about a year and a half ago and told me he wanted to divorce Rynda. He said his children were defective.”

Well. “What did you tell him?”

“I told him I would pretend I never heard what he said. Then I explained that Jessica and Kyle were his children and that as a father, he was supposed to love them unconditionally. He was supposed to protect them and take care of them. That they couldn’t be discarded or traded in for a new model like last year’s car. If he couldn’t bring himself to be proud of them, because they didn’t have the kind of magic talent he was hoping for, he still couldn’t abandon his responsibilities. I also reminded him what a charmer our father was, and how tragic it would be if Brian turned into our old man.”

“What did he say?”

“He asked me what would happen if he did it anyway. He said that the marriage was stressing him out.” Disgust dripped from Edward’s voice. “I reminded him that Olivia Charles had powerful friends. The effect on BioCore and his social standing would be devastating. I also told him that if that idiocy ever came out of his mouth again, I would retire and leave the running of the company to him, so he could fend for himself. That last one did it.”

“Is social standing that important to him?”

“Yes. Our parents made sure we had clearly defined roles. He is a brilliant researcher, and I’m his older brother, destined to be his caretaker. He doesn’t like when people talk about him in any way other than his assigned role. He tolerated Jessica because she is, in all likelihood, a Prime empath like her mother. But Kyle conflicted with Brian’s view of himself. Brian was a gifted Prime herbamagos, therefore his son would also be a gifted Prime herbamagos.”

If Rogan and I ever married and our children weren’t Primes, would he resent me? My heart squeezed itself into a tiny painful ball.

“My brother isn’t stupid. He knows perfectly well that his position as the Head of the House lets him float through life. Doors open. The maître d’ always finds his reservation, and if one hadn’t been made, a table is miraculously found anyway. People treat him with respect. Everyone minds his feelings. He doesn’t have to deal with investors and creditors. He doesn’t have to make painful decisions about firing people. He delegates his problems to me and his wife. Kyle threatened that. What happens when Brian retires? Who takes over? Does BioCore even have a future? It calls the very essence of who Brian is into question. There is nothing worse than a failing vector. The stigma of it is like poison. It stains the whole House.”

I’d heard the term before. A failing vector meant a person whose ancestors possessed potent magic, but who fails to pass it on to his children, so the family’s magic grows weaker with every generation.

“Do you think Brian is a failing vector?”

“I don’t care,” Edward said. “But no. I think Kyle will come into his own. And even if he doesn’t, he’s a bright child. Anyone who talks to him for longer than a minute can see it. My mother never cared much for children, even her own, but Olivia saw it. She adored him. She framed every painting he made.”

“Thank you for your time.” I rose.

He looked at me, his eyes haunted. “Have you told Rynda?”

“Not yet.”

“It might break her. I want to be there.”

“I’ll do my best to make sure you’re there, but I can’t promise anything. I don’t know what will happen.”

I left the room. Leon trailed me.

I wanted to take a shower to wash the stress off.

“He’s in love with Rynda,” Leon said. “His whole face lit up when he talked about her.”

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t he marry her? Why did she marry Brian?”

“Probably because Brian was the Head of his House, and Olivia Charles wouldn’t have seen Edward as a winner. She was very proud.”

We took the elevator down to the lobby.

“If we become a House, you’ll be the Head of House Baylor.”

“Yes.” And what joy that would be.

“We’d be a serious House,” he said. “You’re a Prime, Catalina is a Prime, Arabella is probably a Prime. Bern might be a Significant. We’d have four higher-tier magic users.”

“Mhm.” He’d obviously given it some thought.

“Are you going to marry Mad Rogan?” Leon asked. “You’d both be Heads of the Houses.”

Um. “He hasn’t asked me.”

I walked through the doors outside and blinked against the bright sunshine.

“Maybe you should ask him,” Leon said.

If only it were that easy. We headed to my car. The parking lot was half-deserted. I had parked on the side because the lot at the front entrance and ER was full.

“You just want to be related to Mad Rogan.”

“No,” he said, his dark eyes serious. “I want you to be happy.”

“I’m sorry?” I stopped.

“I want you to be happy,” he repeated. “He makes you happy.”

“Rogan and I may not be compatible.”

Leon looked like he had bitten into a lemon. “Like . . . sex . . . ?”

“Children, Leon. He’s a telekinetic and I’m a truthseeker. Our children might not be Primes. You saw how Brian dealt with it.”