She stood at the foot of the bed where she and Jake had slept, unsure what had drawn her here. Was she subconsciously hoping to see the ghost? Or looking for answers about the portion of a letter she’d found underneath the desk the last time she was here? She looked at the faded brown covers and remembered the blood she’d seen. She walked the room, trying to connect with the feeling that had drawn her here. After a few minutes without getting anything, she started to leave, when she heard a cry. Whirling, she saw a woman lying on the bed, her belly large with pregnancy.
A monk sat beside her, holding her hand. His body blocked the woman’s face. He leaned over and wiped her forehead. “You should have let me know sooner. I just got your letter.”
“I wanted to. But it was a mistake between us, and they would have cast you out.”
“It wasn’t a mistake. I love you. I would have taken care of you and the baby.” He touched the woman’s belly. “You should have waited for me to come to you. It’s dangerous to travel in your condition.”
“It’s more dangerous there.” She gripped his hand. “He’s trying to kill me.”
The man’s shoulders stiffened. “Kill you? What do you mean?”
“There have been two attempts already, accidents that weren’t accidents. And someone is following me. I know it’s him.”
“Did he follow you here?” The man’s voice sounded breathless with fear.
“I don’t think so. I didn’t know where else to go, and I had to let you know about the baby in case you didn’t get my letter. In case he… in case he succeeds. You have to take care of her, find a home for her.”
“It’s a girl?”
“Yes.”
He touched the woman’s belly. “I’ll protect you. You and the baby.”
“I don’t deserve your help, not after what I did. I’m sorry I betrayed you. He used me to get to you.”
“That’s what he does. Don’t worry about him now. We have to get you to the hospital. You’re bleeding.”
Red stains were spreading underneath her. She was hemorrhaging. If she didn’t get to the hospital soon, she would die.
“Get to the hospital,” Kendall said, forgetting that she was talking to the past. She couldn’t see their faces. She wanted to move but was afraid the vision would fade.
“There’s no time,” the woman said.
“No, we can get help.”
She cried out in pain and clasped her hands over her stomach. “It’s too late.” Her hands moved from her stomach to grasp the man’s hands. “Please, take care of the baby. Promise me you’ll take care of her.”
“I promise.” His voice was rough as if he were crying. He leaned down and put his face against her stomach. His shoulders were shaking. She cried out again and he lifted his head. “I’m going to get Marco.”
He knew Marco? But of course, the scene was happening here, and Marco said there had been a woman here once, but they didn’t speak of her. Why? Who was she?
The man stood, turning slightly, and Kendall saw his face for the first time.
Her father.
CHAPTER THREE
THE SHOCK HAD just registered when the woman’s face came into view. Her features were twisted with pain, but Kendall recognized the woman from the one grainy photo she possessed. Her mother. Kendall’s legs shook as she started toward the bed. She stretched out her hand and the vision faded.
“No.” She grabbed the footboard, but the bed looked just the same as it had when she and Jake escaped the castle. Messy covers, but no woman giving birth. No mother. No father. “Come back.” Kendall crawled on the bed and grabbed fistfuls of covers, trying to reconnect with the vision. Still nothing. She touched every part of the bed, and when that didn’t work, she lay on the bed in the same spot her mother had lain twenty-eight years ago. She forced her heartbeat to calm and took slow, steady breaths. Still nothing. “Please come back. Please. I need to know what happened.”
“Kendall?”
She sat up and saw Jake in the doorway.
“What are you doing? Are you crying?” Jake strode to the bed and sat, assuming much the same position that her father had when he’d sat by her mother. He brushed a damp cheek. “What happened?”
“I had a vision.”
He looked apprehensive. “Want to talk about it?”
“I saw my dad. And my mother.”
“Here?”
“The woman who gave birth in here was my mother.”
Both eyebrows shot up. “You saw her.”
She nodded. “I was born in this bed. My God, I killed my mother.”
“What was your mom doing here? Women weren’t allowed. What was your father doing here for that matter? You said he was an archaeologist. Was he working here?”
“He was dressed like a monk, and he said he was going to get Marco. I think my father was one of the Protettori.”
“Damn.”
“The scrap of paper we found underneath the desk was a letter she had written to tell him about the baby.” About Kendall. “But she was afraid she would be killed before he got it.”
“Killed?”
Kendall told Jake everything she had seen in the vision. “Who would try to kill a pregnant woman?” she asked.
“A jealous husband. Maybe she was married and he found out she was pregnant by someone else.”
“I don’t know. I guess I’ll never know.”
“What do you know about your mother?”
“My dad said she died when I was young. He didn’t talk about it much. I was curious, but he seemed so bothered when I asked, I stopped asking. I can’t believe he hid all this from me.”
He slid his hand underneath hers and linked their fingers. “You were a little girl. How could he have told you? We’ll ask Marco when we get back. Maybe he’ll have some answers.” His eyes were dark as they studied her face. “You look wiped out.”
She nodded. That was one of the worst things about visions. They sucked the life right out of her. She wanted to lean against him and rest, and after a second’s hesitation, she did. She laid her head against his chest and closed her eyes. With each beat of his heart, she felt herself regaining strength. He was strong. Protective. A good man, despite that sarcastic, rebellious armor he wore to keep people at the distance he wanted. His arms moved around her back, his head resting against hers. Sometimes she just wanted to be normal, to know only what everyone else knew, the things normal eyes saw and normal ears heard.
He held her for several minutes, until the shock of her vision faded. His fingers moved lower, rubbing small relaxing circles over her spine, and she wished she could forget about the past and questions without answers. She wanted to feel the things a man and a woman who were hugging on a bed might feel. She wanted to feel him, all of him, outside, inside. Without really thinking it through, she lifted her face and touched her lips to his. “Thank you,” she whispered against his mouth.
He put a hand behind her head, holding her close when she would have moved away. “For what?”
“For being a friend.”
“What if I want to be more?” he asked, his mouth hovering over hers. Then he lowered his head. His mouth was hot, and she grabbed him and held on. The feel, the smell, the taste of him was almost overwhelming. After a minute, she pushed away to grab a breath and clear her senses, but he didn’t let up. One hand ran down her back and moved along her hip to her thigh.
She gave up on breathing and gripped the back of his head, pulling him closer. “Take your clothes off,” she said.
He lifted his head and gave her a smoldering look. “You’re sure?”