The Fugitive Legacy by LMBPN Publishing (diy ebook reader .TXT) 📗

much you love your family. You are devoted to them and to Kindred. You love your father and you are loyal to him, a fellow Kindred legacy. Your sister, Maggie, your family mage. Your brother Isaac, her blood match, and your legacy brother, and your little brother Bobby, who has great mage potential that must be protected at all costs. They are your Kindred blood family. You love them all, especially your little brother Bobby.”

When she thought about her little brother Bobby, she knew she loved him with all her heart. The name rooted itself in her mind.

“When I’ve left,” the counselor added, “you won’t remember I was here today.”

She returned to her room, confused and hurt, but told herself that everything would be better when Bobby got home.

Half an hour later, Maggie called. “Lexi, it’s your turn to help with dinner and Bobby’s home.”

Yes, Bobby! She knew that all she had to do was see her little brother and everything would be okay. Quickly, she left her room and walked quickly through the house. Bobby watched Maggie hang his coat on a hook.

Lexi smiled.

Maggie turned. “Lexi, look—our little man’s home.”

Bobby’s face lit up. “Lexiiiiii.” He ran to her.

Everything began to crumble. She hugged him and knew she loved him so much, but also knew in that moment that she’d have to leave. She couldn’t wrap her head around the fact that the boy they’d convinced her belonged with them was the same one she’d rescued had never been returned to his parents. All that ran through her mind was that she didn’t have a brother called Bobby.

Two: After Kindred

Lexi shouldered the door open and pushed out the drunk who was at least a foot taller and probably three times wider than her. She released his arm—which she’d twisted behind his back—and put a boot to his ass to move him away from the door.

“No means no, you prick. Go ask your mother where you went wrong with how you treat women.” She slammed the door.

As she turned toward the bar, the drunk began to pound loudly on the door.

Jeanette, one of the servers, approached her with a denim jacket. “Kyle left this.” She looked at the sturdy door as it shuddered. “Did you lock it?”

“No.” She took the jacket. “He’s pushing instead of pulling.”

The other woman barked a laugh but her face became serious. “Be careful.”

She pushed the door open and the drunk’s huge fist came through the gap. Lexi had expected it. She grasped the wrist and yanked hard to use Kyle’s momentum against him. His forehead thunked into the door and he sagged, and she threw his jacket on top of him. When she raised her hand again, she noticed the shielding chain she always wore around her wrist was missing. Her heart skipped a beat and her gaze darted about the floor until she saw it glint a few paces away. She pulled the door closed again and retrieved it. The clasp was broken.

Is the shielding spell broken? Can I be tracked?

In the three months since she’d left Kindred, she had worked the door at various bars as she traveled around, always in smaller towns that were unlikely to garner much attention from a Kindred Unit. This one in Peoria, Illinois, was no different, except that it was a shifter bar. She assumed their money was as good as anyone else’s. A few dollars for a night’s work usually gave her enough money to get by.

Lexi tied the chain into a knot, but she felt suddenly exposed. This wasn’t a good time to work in a shifter bar. She stepped into the owner’s office.

While she had barely any legacy abilities, if she was unshielded, there was enough to be scented by a shifter. Mike leapt to his feet and looked behind her in the doorway for a couple of seconds before he leveled his gaze on her.

“I need a witch,” she blurted without preamble.

He stared at her and his eyes flickered to amber. “You’re Kindred.”

She sighed. “I was but I’m not now. Unfortunately, my charm’s broken and I think they’ll be able to find me. I don’t want to bring them down on you. If you could recommend a witch who can fix this with a shielding spell, I’ll go now. You don’t even have to pay me for tonight.”

The man stared at her for a moment before he snatched the keys from the little dish on his desk. “Get your jacket.”

“I left my bag—”

“Leave it for now. I don’t want you to walk through the bar smelling like that.”

They drove north out of town. Lexi looked for possible dangers and went through various fight scenarios in her mind, mainly because it calmed her. When they reached the country roads, it occurred to her that he might be driving her into the middle of nowhere to kill her. She glanced at him.

He glanced at her. “Oh, please! If I intended to kill you, I’d have done it in my office.”

Lexi raised an eyebrow. “What, you read minds too?”

“No, your heart rate increased and your face has fight or flight written all over it.”

She cocked an eyebrow. “If we’re being honest, I’ve known you a week and I can see what a neat freak you are. There’s no way you’d have ripped me to pieces in your office.”

Although he kept his eyes on the road, he smiled.

The car slowed and Mike turned into a private road. They approached a single-story home with a porch running along the two sides of the house that she could see.

“Is this where the witch lives?”

“No, it’s my kill room.” He parked the car and looked at her as he wiggled his eyebrows.

Lexi rolled her eyes and climbed out of the vehicle.

He looked at her over the hood. “And he goes by the name of Louis.”

A tall, gray-haired African American man stood slowly. He’d been seated in the dark but she had noticed him from halfway up the drive. In silence,