Fatal Charm

Woodbury, Minnesota

Fatal Charm
© 2007 by Linda Joy Singleton.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any matter whatsoever, including Internet usage, without written permission from Flux, except in the form of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

As the purchaser of this ebook, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this ebook on screen. The text may not be otherwise reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, or recorded on any other storage device in any form or by any means.

Any unauthorized usage of the text without express written permission of the publisher is a violation of the author’s copyright and is illegal and punishable by law.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. Cover models used for illustrative purposes only and may not endorse or represent the book’s subject.

First e-book edition © 2010

E-book ISBN: 9780738717920

Cover design and illustration by Lisa Novak

Flux is an imprint of Llewellyn Worldwide Ltd.

Flux does not participate in, endorse, or have any authority or responsibility concerning private business arrangements between our authors and the public.

Any Internet references contained in this work are current at publication time, but the publisher cannot guarantee that a specific reference will continue or be maintained. Please refer to the publisher’s website for links to current author websites.

Flux

Llewellyn Worldwide Ltd.

2143 Wooddale Drive

Woodbury, MN 55125

www.fluxnow.com

Manufactured in the United States of America

To Felicia Velasquez
for sharing her astral travels with me.

To Cassandra Whetstone for critique advice.

To Taylor and my cousins Courtney and Kadie.

And to all my wonderful fans
who asked for this book.

Is it wrong to hate someone simply because they were born? I wondered this as I spied on the thief who had stolen more than my face.

The gloomy gray morning suited my overcast mood. I’d gotten up early, skipping breakfast so that my empty stomach now growled at me. I hadn’t wanted to drive here, yet felt drawn to this house like a fly to sticky paper.

I had to see the red-haired girl again. I’d never spoken to her and knew little more than her name: Jade. I’d tried tuning into her psychically, but my roller-coaster emotions were short-circuiting my sixth sense, and I got nothing.

The logical part of my brain knew the girl hadn’t done anything wrong, yet I hated her anyway and wanted to hurt her as deeply as she’d hurt me. She was my enemy—the half-sister secret my father had hidden until yesterday.

Slouched low in a dark jacket with my blond hair hidden beneath a cap, I peered out my car window at the yellow house fronted by an oversized brick planter. There were no flowers in the planter, only dead-looking weeds, and morning mist glistened each worn brick with dew, as if the house wept bloody tears.

I’d parked inconspicuously under the overgrown vines of a willow and hoped no one would notice one more car in a neighborhood jam-packed with vehicles on the curbs, driveways, and even lawns. I mean, there were five cars crammed in the yellow house’s driveway.

Did one of them belong to Jade?

Leaning closer to my car window, I glimpsed her through sheer curtains as she moved in what I guessed was a living room. Golden light from a lamp sparked her red hair so that it seemed to be on fire. She cupped a phone to her ear while gesturing with her free hand. I couldn’t see her face from this distance, but her body language oozed drama, and I wondered what she was saying. Even more, I wondered if she was talking to him.

Our father.

It had been accidental—me finding out.

While Dad was driving me home (after a disturbing day that included betrayal, violence, and the police), his cell phone rang. I could tell by the furtive way Dad whispered and glanced over at me that something weird was going on, so I pretended to be asleep. But all pretense ended when Dad detoured to this house where he was greeted by a girl about my age and a woman I guessed was her mother. Except for the girl’s red hair, she looked shockingly like me. But I was even more shocked when she wrapped her arms around my father and called him “Daddy!”

My first thought was that the girl had mistaken my father for someone else.

But I’d been the one mistaken.

About my father.

Afterwards, Dad drove me to a nearly deserted coffeehouse and we faced each other across a table. Hurt and anger brewed with my hot tea, leaving a bad taste.

“Don’t look at me that way, Sabine. Let me explain. Please,” my father had said in a quiet, pained voice that would usually sway me.

But I was stone, sipping hot bitterness.

Still I couldn’t help but listen as he talked.

He explained that he’d met Crystal at the casino where she worked as a dealer before he married my mother. Crystal was beautiful, wild, and unpredictable, unlike the proper, pedigreed girls he usually dated. He thought he was in love and asked her to marry him. They were engaged for only a few weeks when she jilted him for a wealthy older man. Dad was heartbroken, but got over her quickly and went on to marry my mother. I was born a year later.

He hadn’t even known Crystal had a child, not until her husband died four years ago, owing so many creditors that his wife and daughter were bankrupt. That’s when Crystal sought out my father and introduced him to thirteen-year-old Jade: his eldest daughter.

“Jade’s resemblance to you left no doubt she was mine.” My father sighed deeply, his hands folded around the coffee cup as if clinging to a life preserver. “She’s missed out on so much. I couldn’t make up for the lost years, but since then I’ve done my best to be a supportive father.”

“But what about us?” I asked softly. “Your real family?”

“You haven’t lacked for anything.”

“Except you.”

He closed his eyes as if I was the sun and looking too closely would steal his sight. And he said nothing. This lawyer father I’d idolized my whole life and who could sway a jury with skilled eloquence offered no words in his own defense, only slumped his shoulders with the grim acceptance of my guilty verdict.

A waitress came over with a coffeepot, refilled Dad’s cup, and asked me if I wanted more tea. I shook my head, my gaze fixed on Dad, not looking up. When she turned to the next table, I asked softly, “Does Mom know?”

“No. And I’d prefer it remained that way.”

“You want me to lie for you?”

“I hope you’ll respect my privacy.”

“What do you know about respect?” My hands tightened around my teacup, and I was tempted to fling more than words in his face. I thought how his face lit up when he described “wild and unpredictable” Crystal. Add to that the growing tension between my parents and all the nights Dad was “working late.”

Ohmygod! This was about more than Dad discovering another daughter. He’d fallen in love with Crystal again and was cheating on my mother. It all made sense. The next step would be divorce—which would rip apart my family. My younger sisters, Amy and Ashley, would be devastated.

“This hasn’t been easy,” Dad said gravely. “It’s complicated, torn between all the people you love. You wouldn’t understand.”

Why did adults always say that? As if they knew everything and thought that being young meant being stupid. But Dad was wrong—I understood more than he knew. He wasn’t the only one with secrets.

I’d been keeping a big one from Josh—my sexy and sweet boyfriend who trusted me. Josh had been unavailable a lot lately so we hadn’t been together much. Maybe we were growing apart. I wasn’t sure, but unless we broke up, it wasn’t right for me to lust after another guy. Yet that’s how I’d been feeling about Dominic (the handyman/apprentice employed by my grandmother Nona) since we’d been working together to find a remedy for Nona’s illness. Even worse—in a fireworks life-or-death moment, I’d kissed Dominic and enjoyed it. Now I couldn’t stop thinking about him.

How could I judge my father when I was just as guilty?

So I agreed to keep Dad’s secret. Not to protect him, but to protect my ten-year-old twin sisters who deserved more, and even for Mom who had her faults but was still my mother and I didn’t want her hurt.

But I won’t be like you, Dad, I thought with resolve. No more lying to Josh and lusting after someone else. I will make it work with Josh. I will forget all about Dominic.

So what was I doing spying in this rundown neighborhood where weeds thrived more than grass, miles from my parents’ upscale home? Did I want to find out more about Jade? Was I jealous of this half-sister who seemed to be getting more than half of my father’s attention? Did I want revenge or to get to know her? Or maybe I was here to prove to myself that she didn’t matter; that my family was still intact and everything was fine with my world.

Shadows stirred in the living room and a man walked toward Jade. But he didn’t stop and she didn’t put aside her cell. Then the front door opened and the man stepped out of the house.

For a second I thought I was going to catch my own father sneaking out after spending the night with his girlfriend. But that wasn’t possible. Dad’s car had still been in the driveway when I’d left over an hour ago. Besides, this man was much older than my father; heavy-set, gray-haired, and wearing awful tweed slacks with a mustard yellow, long-sleeved shirt. If my best friend Penny-Love were here, she’d want to shoot him for fashion crimes.

Tweed Man glanced around surreptitiously and I wondered if he sensed me watching. Quickly, I ducked down low. I cautiously peeked out the window again. The man kept his head low, as if he was hiding something, as he crossed the lawn to a midsize burgundy pickup.

Who was he?

I leaned forward for a better look until my nose bumped against the glass.

As Tweed Man turned to open his car door, silver flashed off a round object hanging out of his back pocket. At first glance, it looked like a silver bracelet dangling from a chain. But realization struck, and I gave a soft gasp.

Handcuffs.