What Remains, Bailey Bradford [classic romance novels .TXT] 📗

from this coven or not. As Chris said, he could have missed something, or there could be people missing. I didn’t check to see who all arrived today or how many there were now total.”

“Twenty-two,” Chris answered before Laine could. “I don’t know how many there’s supposed to be, but that’s how many were here.”

Miriam nodded. She frowned as she looked out at the tents. “I’ll have Vincent go around and do a head count in a few minutes. After that, he and I will start doing our thing to find out what kind of magic was used, white, black, something else entirely…”

And why that sent a chill down Laine’s spine, he didn’t know. It lodged there at the base, though, and stayed with him the entire drive home.

Chapter Seven

“…and this one, what’d you do on it?”

Sev looked at the inch-and-a-half-long article in Rogelio’s album and wished he could groan without hurting the kid’s feelings. Rogelio really did have an album that contained, as far as Sev could tell, every single mention of Sev on the Internet—which wasn’t much—as well as the cases where he’d been able to fly under the media’s radar.

He figured Alma must have helped Rogelio even though she hadn’t said so. She knew what cases he’d worked on because he’d always called to let her and his other siblings know where he was.

“Rogelio, stop pestering Severo. I’m sure he doesn’t want to go over all that horrible stuff,” Alma scolded as she walked into the living room.

Alma was right—he hated going over ‘all that horrible stuff’. Murders were not something he cared to recount. It was bad enough he could still remember clearly the faces of each victim he’d ever seen a photo of. Talking about their deaths was well beyond unpleasant.

“Sorry, Uncle Sev,” Rogelio mumbled. “You could have told me to stop. I wouldn’t have gotten mad.”

Sev smiled at his nephew. Rogelio looked enough like him that he could easily pass for Sev’s little brother. Rogelio had the same shaped face, right down to the pointy chin. The only glaring difference was his eyes, which were brown like his father’s rather than the pale green of Sev and Alma’s.

“It’s okay, I don’t mind…”

Rogelio arched one fine black eyebrow.

“Much,” Sev added. “I don’t like talking about the crimes, the victims, but I have enjoyed spending time with you.”

Rogelio’s grin about melted Sev’s heart. “Cool. We can do something else, maybe—”

Alma brushed her hand over her son’s head. “Maybe you should let your Uncle Sev spend some time with Adela and Martin, too.”

The younger two kids looked up at him from where they were sitting on the floor playing their handheld games. Sev didn’t think either of them looked eager to spend time with him.

“Grandpa says he’s a bad man,” Martin said, glaring at Sev. “He said you’re going to—”

“Martin Eduardo Martinez! You watch your mouth, young man!”

Martin cringed at his mother’s reprimand but he didn’t look any less angry to Sev. “But Grandpa says—”

“Your grandpa says a lot of mean things that aren’t true,” Roger said as he got up from his chair. He walked over and sat on the floor between his youngest children. “You heard him say I wasn’t good enough for your mom. Do you believe that, too?”

Martin looked at his dad and shook his head so hard Sev was surprised it didn’t come right off his thin little neck. “No, but—”

“No ‘buts’,” Roger said gently, “Grandpa is a bitter, angry man. Your grandma is a bitter, angry woman. They say a lot of mean things, but you need to get to know your uncle on your own and form your own opinions, you and Adela both. Do you think your mom and I would hang around with bad people?”

“Y’all hung around Grandma and Grandpa,” Rogelio said bitterly.

Sev leaned over and whispered, “You’re not helping!”

Roger’s lips quirked as he glanced at Sev, then his expression turned serious when he looked at his youngest son. “Rogelio’s right, we did, and that’s how we learned that hanging around with people like your grandparents wasn’t a good thing. They don’t like their own son because he can do something they don’t understand. Do you think that’s right, for a parent to treat their own child like that?”

“And ’cause he’s gay,” Adela piped in, “they were yelling about that, too, and in school the nuns say—”

“What do they know?” Alma put a hand on Sev’s shoulder. “They just repeat what someone else said, they don’t think for themselves. And we told you, you, Martin, and Rogelio will not be going back to that private school! Your grandparents won’t be paying for it anymore, and we can’t afford it—and your father and I don’t care for a lot of what they are teaching you.”

“Thank God,” Rogelio muttered. “I hated that stupid place.”

“What’s gay?” Martin asked. “Why would it make you go to Hell if it’s not bad?”

Sev stood up slowly and patted Alma’s hand, still on his shoulder. “I think I’ll let you and Roger talk to your kids about this. I’ll just…” He gestured toward the front door. “Go water the plants, it’s about that time. I also need to see how much damage the frost did.”

“I’ll come with you,” Rogelio volunteered, bounding off the couch. “I already know all this stuff anyways. It’s just that Grandma and Grandpa have their claws sunk into Adela and Martin more than they ever did me.”

Sev cast a glance over his shoulder at Alma. “Well, if it’s okay?”

Alma’s expression shifted into one of concern but she nodded. “Yes, I think…I think Rogelio wanted to talk to you alone anyway.”

“Mom!” Rogelio yelped.

Sev’s head swiveled around at Rogelio’s indignant exclamation. His nephew’s cheeks were darkly flushed and his eyes were nearly bugging out of their sockets. Hm. What’s this? Maybe there’s more to the whole story than what Alma’s told me.

“Come on, let’s go check the gardens.” Sev caught Rogelio’s elbow and tugged. They grabbed their jackets and went outside.

When