Reckless Road (Torpedo Ink 5) - Page 167

“Don’t let go of each other,” Anat counseled.

At first, it seemed, no one was on the other side.

“Be patient. If he isn’t right there, the portal will summon him with a sound. If he’s anywhere near, he’ll come. He’s most likely got it in his private den or somewhere the rest of his family won’t see it,” Anat said. “Please stay connected.” There was eagerness in her voice she clearly tried to suppress. She hadn’t seen Amir in seventeen years, other than in pictures on the Internet. This would be the closest she would come to him in person. “He goes by François Marcellus Sanchez. It’s his legal name now.”

A figure slowly began to take shape, the eyes first. He was a distance away, clearly guarding his identity.

“François,” Anat called out to him. Her voice dripped with tears. “My son.”

“Maman?” There was a wealth of emotion in the voice. The figure crept closer until a face with dark brown eyes was centered in the middle of the picture frame. He had dark hair, and as he got closer, they could see the web of scarring that ran along his face and neck, cutting along the dark shadow of his jaw.

Anat reached up with trembling fingers as if she could smooth those scars away. “François. I didn’t think I would ever be able to talk to you. To see you.”

“Seventeen years, maman,” he whispered. “I had made up my mind to come to you. I know I gave you my word that I wouldn’t, but I feared I would lose you before I could see you again. Zyah grew up without knowing me. You were lost to me. She was lost to me.”

“We’re here,” Anat assured.

“They don’t care about us now. They don’t even think about us,” François said. “I want to get on a plane tomorrow and come to see you, and I intend to do just that.” There was absolute conviction in his voice, as if she might dare to contradict him. If she did, he was going to refuse to listen to her. “Someone opened the portal. I can see now, it must have been Zyah.”

“She didn’t know what she was doing. It was an accident. It scared her. You scared her. Her man, Player, is like my Horus,” Anat explained. “They moved the drawing from my house in order to protect me, not realizing I knew what it was. Player was afraid the bomb might go off and kill me.” She smiled affectionately at Player.

Player felt that smile right through him, like an arrow to his soul. Zyah’s grandmother had taken the club, his family, into her home, into her heart, welcoming them in the way Blythe had. He tightened his hold on Zyah, feeling he was lucky to bring not only Zyah to his family, but Anat. For so long, he had felt unworthy of the others, apart from them. His mind defective and even dangerous to them because of his strange talent. Sharing Zyah and Anat had more than made up for any shortcomings he might have.

“I was recovering from a brain injury,” Player explained. “The drawing was in front of me, and I could clearly see the plans for the bomb. My brain works on things like that, and it did. The next thing, Zyah and I saw you and you scared the crap out of us. We were terrified for Anat and had no idea what to think. I asked my family for help. They’re very good at finding people. Fortunately, Zyah, my family and I all believe so much in Anat, that before we did anything, we asked her. She told us how this all came about. It’s pretty incredible.”

“Unbelievable is what you mean,” François said. “The things Horus and Ken thought of and then proceeded to do were beyond this world. Out of a science fiction movie. If I tried to tell someone about them, people would think I was crazy.” He hesitated. “What do you mean, your family? Maman, this kind of technology is extremely dangerous. If it fell into the wrong hands, it would be a disaster. No one else knew about this. It was kept a secret because it was so dangerous.”

“Horus was well aware of that. He honestly didn’t think it would work. None of us did. Ken and Amara tried first and couldn’t open the portal. Ken was the one who had designed the portal, so naturally we thought they could open it. Even for Horus and Ken, the idea was too farfetched. You can imagine how shocked we were when it worked for us,” Anat said.

“Zyah and—I’m sorry, I don’t remember your name,” François said.

“My family calls me Player,” he supplied.

“Player, then. If it got out about this, any government or terrorist group would come after both of you in a heartbeat. You know that.”

Tags: Christine Feehan Torpedo Ink Romance
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