Grave Debt Read online




  Grave Debt

  A SkinWalker Novel #7

  T.G. Ayer

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Also by T.G. Ayer

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  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  It was a dick move.

  Logan knew he’d taken the coward’s way out but he hoped he’d worded his letter in such a way that Kai would know he hadn't meant it was over. Because it wasn’t.

  Not by a long shot.

  How could it possibly be over when the woman meant more to him than life itself. Though the irony that he was, for all intents and purposes, fleeing from her in the dark of night—well, not really since it was the new day was in full force—wasn’t lost on him.

  What would she say when she finally did read the letter?

  Logan wasn’t all that sure he wanted to know. He had no idea how long it would take before Kai returned home, but Logan knew he couldn't wait any longer.

  “You are such an asshole,” muttered Sienna, her dark tone slicing deep into his heart as her eyes and her body—and now too, her voice—displayed their utter disgust, disapproval and and disappointment in his actions.

  His sister’s arms were folded as she paced the carpet in what had been Logan’s room for the duration of his recuperation. Her narrow naked feet made no sound on the carpet as she strode back and forth, blue-painted toes sink deep into the thick pile, though her bearing and her expression screeched her fury, louder than any dragon-call.

  Sienna’s golden eyes were cast down upon the wool fibers in a dark glare, as though the red and green interweaving patterns were somehow responsible for the status of the asshole in question.

  Logan didn’t answer, his thoughts on Ivy who he’d crossed paths with only ten minutes ago, a crossroads at the coffee machine, where he’d asked her a question that he was pretty certain could have ended with her double espresso all over his head.

  That Logan had had the gall to rope her into his subterfuge, and and as a result would soon abandon to face her granddaughter’s ire alone, still surprised him.

  Though at first reluctant, Ivy had eventually conceded, thankfully without draping him in her morning caffeine, and was oddly enough in lukewarm agreement with Logan’s need for a quick departure. An agreement that had somehow escaped Sienna’s awareness as she now broadcasted her fury at him.

  With his mind on Grams, Logan missed a timeous response to his sister’s question, his silence now drawing a disgusted snort from Sienna. He glanced up just as she snapped, “Well, I suppose the fact that you’ve admitted what you are—and that you’re not denying your status—should count for something.”

  She huffed and paced some more, arms now unfolded, fingers flexing restlessly at her sides. As she walked, she waggled her hands near her thighs and every so often a brilliant gold-orange flame or two would spark at the tips of her long elegant fingers, followed by a cloud of tiny embers as they spun around and around then floated to the dark carpet.

  “You’d better be careful, Sienna.” Logan smirked, losing control of the urge to smile. “Keep doing that and we’ll be repairing carpets before we leave. Or worse yet, watching as the Odel home as it burns to the ground.”

  Sienna stopped pacing and spun around to face Logan, her eyes flickering with undulating fire. “I’m not stupid, Logan. If anything, that’s a label best kept for you,” she said tipping her head in the direction of the blackened wall on the other side of the bed. Sienna smirked, eyes sparkling in amusement as Logan’s cool narrowed gaze settled on the round scorch-mark emblazoned on the wall of Kai’s bedroom.

  Though Logan cast about for a suitable snarky response, his guilt made it somewhat difficult to absolve himself, even if it meant his defense against his smartass sibling.

  At last, he shook his head. “That’s what you would call being overwhelmed with emotion and lacking full control.” It was a weak argument, but Logan wasn’t lying.

  On hearing of Kai’s injuries and admission to hospital, and then the deliberate attempt to frame her for the murder of Anjelo’s mother, Logan had been filled with emotion, with such fear and rage that he hadn’t been able to control his fire, which had exploded from his hands, a flaming ball of near-destruction.

  Thankfully, he’d managed to grasp hold of the energy and reined in the full force of the power in just in time. He’d made a mess of the wall, with its tiny red-flowered wallpaper—and had seared the top half of the white-painted wainscoting, grateful the damage hadn’t been any worse.

  Sienna twisted her lips. “Pfft. Excuses. And don’t think I didn’t notice that neatly done change of the subject.” She shook her head, then blew a lock of her coppery hair away from her eyes. “Can’t you just face her like a man? Talk to her, explain what you need to do.” Sienna let out a disgusted breath—she’d stopped talking so suddenly that Logan stiffened with concern before eyeing her suspiciously from beneath his eyelashes.

  Then, after having confirmed Sienna wasn’t about to lose her shit, Logan inhaled slowly. “I know her way better than you, Sienna,” he said softly. “She won’t just let me go. She’d want to help me. She’d insist on coming with, to support me. That’s just who Kai is.”

  “And what’s so bad about that?” Sienna folded her arms again, her chin jutting out as she spoke. She lifted an eyebrow. “I have it on good authority that the walker in question is pretty reasonable and understanding. It’s what I like most about her—straight talker, no beating around the bush and no hiding away truths.”

  Logan shook his head. “Firstly, Kai has enough on her mind. The High Council nonsense is enough to twist anyone up with all their rules. And now the setup?”

  Sienna snorted again. “So, you’re running away because some stupid council said you and Kai can’t be together?”

  Logan swallowed the urge to snap at her, to tell her to leave him alone, but he forced the urge away, knowing that her first concern was for Kai. The two had grown close, with Sienna having the utmost respect for Kai, the fact that Kai had been the one to help Sienna use her ability to shift probably only adding to the reasons.

  Now Logan smiled. “It's not a matter of running away. Kai has her responsibilities, and right now I'm the distraction. I've been that for her ever since I went into that coma. And Kai gives her all when it comes to people she cares about. With me out of her hair, Kai may be able to see things a little clearer. Without her emotions—and mine too—clouding her decisions.”

  “And you? Are you leaving her because you need a clear head, too?” Sienna asked, her tone part curious,
part critical as she turned to face him, body and eyes waiting.

  Logan nodded. “Partly. I'm not sure what we're going to be facing when we get to Drakys...home.”

  “So what exactly are you expecting?” asked Sienna after a brief pause, one eyebrow raised.

  “I'm not entirely certain what to expect. What if they don't accept me? You they know already, you've had the way paved. But me? I'm still not even sure I understand why I'm needed.”

  Sienna took the three steps over to Logan and put her hand on his arm. “I've told you as much as I already know, but there is a whole lot of knowledge that is kept exclusively for the ears of those on the throne. They'll tell us everything before the ceremony, of that I'm pretty sure.”

  His sister’s eyes held a confidence that seemed to rub off on him, and he prayed that she wasn’t just spouting embellished truths for him in order to make things easy for him

  Logan put his arm around his sister’s shoulders and gave her a squeeze. He was sometimes surprised at how much he cared for her—this seemingly tiny slip of a thing—and, given that he'd spent the majority of his life entirely ignorant that she existed, it surprised him too to understand the depths of his love for her.

  He'd also spent half his life believing he'd been the one who'd murdered the man and woman he'd believed were his parents—not to mention all the other live’s he’d taken on that fateful day.

  He'd struggled for almost a decade, bearing the burden of being a mass murderer who also bore a notch in his belt held the name Sonia—Sonia Odel who had been Kai’s sister in law. Iain’s wife.

  Only, that burden hadn't been Logan's to bear, a truth he was not well aware of, although it was a truth that he had no intention of revealing to Sienna yet.

  Or ever, if he could help it.

  More secrets.

  Logan had to wonder at the wisdom of keeping the truth from Sienna, but her recollections of her childhood were filled with pleasant happy memories. Could he really destroy that by handing the soul-crushing weight of his guilt over to her?

  The door opened and Darcy entered, swiping her long blonde hair out of her face. She'd taken to wearing it open in the last few weeks and Logan had to wonder how much of that had to do with Kai's brother Iain, who had at last found in the MindMelder, a woman capable of grounding him.

  “Hey, you two,” Darcy said as she walked over to them, fingers gripping the strap of her handbag as she stared from one face to the other.

  “I'm assuming you want Logan?” asked Sienna softly. Her interactions with the Darcy had remained polite, perching on the fence between neutrality and mild affection, as though she constantly hesitated to move toward friendship, preferring the freedom of not committing to something as tangible as a friendship. Logan had promised himself that he'd uncover the reason for Sienna's distance from Darcy, no matter what stood in his way.

  “Unfortunately I have to do one final check on Logan before you two leave,” said Darcy, her expression serene, no hint at all that she was aware of Sienna's almost-indifference. “Your brother thought he’d be able to leave without my final assessment just because he was disappearing from the face of the Earth at the ungodly hour of nine in the morning. And I wasn’t going to let that happen,” the mindmelder said, throwing an arch look at Logan.

  Sienna nodded at Darcy though Logan didn’t miss the smirk that she half hid as she took a handful of steps backward, then spun on her heel, heading for the door.

  “I'll go finish packing,” she said to nobody in particular as she left the room. She closed the door gently behind her, leaving Darcy and Logan with full privacy.

  Darcy sighed, the sound a low rush of air tapering off into a soft growl that broadcasted her weariness and the status of her almost non-existent patience.

  “Does my professional opinion not matter at all to you?” An eyebrow quirked, eyes darkening for lack of humor.

  Logan snorted. “Are we going to do this again?” She was right; he had wanted to sneak off without an examination, but, despite his guilt, he didn’t want to waste time rehashing his reasons.

  A sharp roll of Darcy’s eyes followed his words. “If I thought it would make any difference, I would,” she snapped. “But I think I know you well enough by now, so I won’t bother.”

  A wave of ragged laughter bubbled free from Logan, though the sound grated even on his own ears. “Aren't you the one who said you know me better than I'll ever know myself what with getting all up close and personal with my mind?”

  Her eyes narrowed, lips pursing as though she was considering some form of suitable punishment. “And that won't change until you're fully healed and all your memories return. Also, I have to say that leaving now may be detrimental to your progress.”

  Darcy’s eyes darkened, now with worry, as she studied Logan's face, her head tilted upward, neck exposed, the action trusting in that it made her so very vulnerable to him.

  Sighing, Logan ran a hand over his face and felt the fatigue simmer within his limbs. “I wish I could do as you want, Darcy, but it really is time to leave.” His words rang in his ears, a loud accusation that they were just an excuse to get away.

  He ignored them.

  “What?” asked Darcy, her expression clouding with concern. “Did you get some sort of summons to return home?”

  “Something like that.”

  At his clipped response, Darcy let out a huff, shook her head and grabbed a hold of Logan's arm. She led him to the bed and pointed for him to sit, her expression stony as she dropped her bag on the floor and seated herself primly, then waited in taut silence.

  Logan blinked, well aware he had little choice but to obey. So he did, seating himself as he mentally threw his hands up in the air. It seemed, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get rid of the people who cared about his well-being.

  And was that really such a bad thing?

  Chapter 2

  Logan decided to obey as resistance was futile if Darcy meant business.

  Which she did.

  The stiff finger pointing like a dagger had been more than a hint, and the cold stony expression had sealed the deal. Logan convinced himself that having the mindmelder give him the all-clear before he left for Drakys would only be an advantage to him—never mind that such an all-clear would be one of the temporary variety.

  He submitted as Darcy held her fingers to his temples and joined her mind with his. He used to marvel at her ability, but that was back when it had been new. Now he was so used to it that he barely even thought about the fact that it was unusual to have another person rooting around inside his mind.

  After a few long and silent moments, Logan said, “So? Am I cleared, or am I still a basket case?”

  Darcy smirked, fingers still in contact with his skin. “Unfortunately, I never did guarantee I could cure your crazy.” Then she sighed and let his temples go, dropping her hands to her sides. “When do you plan on telling her?” she asked, her voice low and almost conspiratorial.

  Logan stiffened and glanced at the closed door, the movement instinctive—and all too revealing—as he saw that Darcy hadn’t missed his guilt in action. “I'm not sure what you mean,” he said, innocently.

  She clicked her tongue. “Logan. I've been inside your mind, dude. You really think you can pull off lying to me?” She raised an eyebrow, well aware that her invasion of his mind tended to be a sore topic with Logan behaving as though she was standing in his room, watching him dance around naked.

  He wasn’t far wrong especially since he was of the opinion that a naked body revealed infinitely less than ones naked thoughts. Now, he met her eyes, hesitating for a moment.

  Darcy shook her head and said, “Fart bombs.”

  Logan groaned. “Fine. You win. Nobody wants to be reminded of that.”

  She chuckled. “Only a boy would think it's a good idea to try to light your farts on fire.” She shook her head and gave a giggle-snort.

  “Ugh.” Logan rolled his eyes. “Don't remind me
, okay. I couldn't sit for a week after that.”

  Darcy’s eyes widened. “Did the flames get a little too close to your butt?” she asked, smirking, eyes sparkling.

  “If only. No, my dad nearly flayed me alive. Whipped my ass well and good.” The mention of Karl Westin—who was most emphatically not his dad—erased Logan's mirth.

  He’d fallen silent but Darcy shook him by the arm. “Hey. Stop it. You'd think by now you'd be able to forgive yourself, especially with what you know.”

  Logan shifted his head, lifting his chin to meet Darcy’s eyes. “All those years carrying that knowledge was painful enough. But knowing the truth? It makes the burden all the more hard,” Logan shook his head, saying no to the thought that one day Sienna would have to learn the truth.

  Darcy was waving a finger at him now. “Which brings me back to my original question. When will you tell her?”

  Logan let out a silent growl and got to his feet. “When she's stronger, and when we're both settled into our duties, know the lay of the land better. She's still fragile. I want her to be stronger before she has to face this. I know the weight of this burden, Darcy. It’s a weight I’d rather she didn’t have to carry.”

  Exhaling slowly, the mindmelder asked, “Have you considered that Sienna may not suffer beneath that burden as much as you did?”

  Logan stiffened at the question, understanding that it held more than one implication. “What do you mean by that?”