Unbroken Vows

Chapter 1-2

Caleb was silent for a moment, surveying her in a fashion that seemed almost pitying. That stare made her go cold all over, mostly because she guessed if a demon — or part-demon — was looking at you in such a way, you were probably about to get some spectacularly bad news.

“You sure you don’t want to sit down?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said icily.

A shrug. “All right. So, it seems you met your father in Indianapolis?”

If her body had felt cold before, now it seemed as though liquid nitrogen was being pumped through her veins. How the hell had Caleb found out about her father? Those meetings had been, if not secret, then definitely held in places that were far away from the watchful eyes of the Greencastle, Indiana, demon horde.

However, Rosemary realized there was no point in expending mental energy on the “how” of it all. What mattered was that Caleb seemed to know about John McGuire and the way he’d reached out to his daughter after allowing her to think he’d been dead for the past ten years.

“What if I did meet him?” she asked, her voice guarded. There didn’t seem to be much point in denying the meeting had occurred, not when Caleb already knew about it, but on the other hand, there was also no reason to go volunteering information.

For a moment, he didn’t reply, only stood there, still with that almost sympathetic expression in his dark eyes. Then he said, “He’s not who he says he is.”

“Oh?” she responded, doing her best to indicate with her tone that she wasn’t about to believe a single word Caleb said. “Who is he, then?”

“One of us,” Caleb said simply.

Rosemary didn’t bother to ask him what he meant by that phrase. Instead, she let out an incredulous laugh and said, “A demon? Give me a break.”

“It’s true.”

Once again, she looked over at the clock. Five minutes until five. Please, Will, she thought. Please come home and stop this so I don’t have to listen to anything else Caleb Lockwood has to say.

But there was no sign of Will, and so Caleb went on, “I know you don’t want to hear this. But how else do you explain these powers of yours suddenly manifesting out of nowhere?”

Even though she knew she should have kept her mouth shut, shouldn’t have allowed Caleb to goad her into a response, the words tumbled out anyway. “There is an explanation. But it’s not because my father is a demon.”

The smirk returned to Caleb’s mouth. “I suppose he told you he was an angel.”

Her knees suddenly felt weak. How could he have known about her father’s true origins? Unless….

No, she told herself, these demons obviously have ways of digging up all kinds of information. It would be easy enough for them to find out about Dad, especially when he’s apparently been watching them for decades. Know thy enemy, and all that.

Apparently, Caleb was able to guess the reason behind her lack of response, because he said, “I know you want to think that I’m lying. It would be a lot easier for you, wouldn’t it? But I’m not. You’re not some magical half-angelic being. You’re a quarter demon, same as I am.”

Although her mouth was parched, dry as desert sand, somehow she was able to make herself reply, “That doesn’t make any sense. Why would my father be working against the rest of you if he was supposedly on the same side?”

“Don’t be so naïve, Rosemary. What makes you think he’s working against us?”

She stared at Caleb, wondering what sort of game he was playing now. Something crooked and completely rigged, as befitting a demon, no doubt. In fact, she was starting to believe that he’d initiated this entire conversation in order to continue messing with her head. “I don’t know…because he basically gave me everything I needed to go into your house and steal that damn hard drive?”

Caleb grinned. “Did you ever stop to think he might have done that precisely so you’d have a reason to be in my house in the first place?”

None of this was making any sense. Even though she’d adamantly insisted she didn’t need to sit down, she realized then that she really did need to take a seat. Otherwise, her rubbery knees might have given way completely. Without responding to his question, she went over to the chair next to the couch and lowered herself onto it, then perched at the edge of the seat cushion, hands grasping the arms so they’d provide some additional support.

Staring at Caleb, at the satisfied smile that tugged at his lips, she made herself say, “So…why did you want me in your house?”

“Actually, it was my father who wanted you there. He wanted to see you in person, to have a chance to find out how strong you actually were. I’d told him about the way you warded off my attack, and he needed to know whether that was a fluke or whether you really were as strong as I’d said.”

As much as Rosemary hated to admit it to herself, she had to recognize that Caleb’s explanation made some sense. She couldn’t help thinking that hers and Will’s getaway from the Lockwood mansion had seemed almost too easy, even though she’d done her best to tell herself she was being paranoid and that it had been a simple case of her angelic powers being stronger than Daniel Lockwood’s demonic ones.

But if he’d always intended for her to get away….

She swallowed, then said, “And was I?”

Caleb’s smile broadened. “Oh, yes. He was quite impressed. That was why he sent me here to talk to you, to make you understand what your true place in the world actually is.”

That comment sounded ominous. Rosemary had thought she’d finally begun to figure out that very thing, knowing the truth of her feelings for Will Gordon, realizing how right and good it felt for the two of them to be together in this house, planning a shared future. But if Caleb was telling her the truth…if demon blood really did flow in her veins…then how in the world could she possibly be involved with a man of God?

Her hands were shaking. She knotted her fingers together and hoped Caleb hadn’t noticed. “Why should I believe a word you’re saying?”

“I know you don’t have any reason to,” he said, his tone casual. He sat back down on the sofa, this time at the end closest to the armchair where Rosemary was perched. In that position, his knee almost brushed hers. Almost. If either of them moved, they’d definitely touch.

She resolved to sit as still as a statue. It was hard enough to even have Caleb that close to her; the last thing she wanted was any physical contact with him.

“But,” he went on, “although I know I haven’t been entirely truthful with you in the past, I am telling you the truth now.”

He sounded sincere. He even looked sincere…which meant absolutely nothing where Caleb Lockwood was concerned.

“It doesn’t make any sense, though,” Rosemary protested. “How could my father be a — a cambion? And if we’re all part demon, why don’t my sisters have the same powers I do?”

For a few seconds, Caleb didn’t reply. His silence seemed ominous, since during their entire conversation, he’d appeared only too happy to answer her questions. He released a breath, eyes not quite meeting hers. True reticence, or more play-acting? She couldn’t begin to guess, although something in her gut tightened, as if anticipating yet another terrible revelation.

When he spoke, his tone was gentle…too gentle. That couldn’t be good.

“Because they’re only your half-sisters,” he replied. “Their psychic powers are purely human powers, the ones that were passed down from your mother and grandmother. As humans go, they’re very strong. But they’re not like you.”

“That’s impossible,” Rosemary told him, forcing herself to make the argument because to do otherwise was to accept the unimaginable things Caleb was telling her. “Our father wasn’t a half-demon — he was just someone who worked in finance!”

Her protest elicited an ironic eyebrow lift. “And yet you were only too willing to believe he was an angel. You can’t have it both ways, Rosemary.”

As much as she wanted to argue that point, deep down, she knew Caleb was right. She hadn’t made that same argument when told her father was an angel. Learning he wasn’t quite human had been unnerving, but it wasn’t the same as having to acknowledge that the same black blood flowed in her veins as the beings she and Will — and Michael and Audrey — had been fighting for the past six months.

But something in her forced her to continue the debate. “That’s different. Not because he was an angel, but because he never claimed not to be Isabel and Celeste’s father. He’s been the same man all along — I mean, how could my father be one of you? The whole thing is impossible.”

“Oh?”

And before Rosemary could reply, Caleb’s appearance shifted again, this time to that of his own father. The change was so abrupt — and so frightening — that she began to launch herself from the chair where she sat, only to have his hand close on her wrist and pull her back down. As he did so, his face became his own again.

“That’s how,” he said quietly. “Your mother had no idea the man in her bed wasn’t her husband. John McGuire traveled a lot for his job, didn’t he?”

Mutely, Rosemary nodded. She wasn’t sure she could trust herself to speak.

“And sometimes he came back early from those business trips?”

Again, all she could do was nod.

“Well, then,” Caleb said, as if he knew he’d proved his point. “One of those times when he returned sooner than expected, that wasn’t your mother’s husband. Or I guess, several of those times. I don’t have all the details. I just know that the man she was married to wasn’t your biological father.”

This was a nightmare. No, not a nightmare, but a night terror, one of those horrible dreams where you felt as though you were immobilized and couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything except lie there helplessly as horrible visions bombarded you and every limb in your body felt as though it had turned to lead. Rosemary clung to the armchair, cold sweat trickling down the back of her neck. She wanted to argue with Caleb, only she wasn’t sure whether her protests would be of any use. Everything he’d said had sounded completely, horribly plausible.

But still, she had to try.

“Why my mother?” she demanded. “Why her, out of all the women in the world?”

“Because she was so psychic,” Caleb said simply. “We — or rather, the other demons of my father’s generation — wanted to see what the child of such a pairing would be like. I guess they were kind of surprised when your mother had a girl, though. That was unexpected.”

Somehow, Rosemary was able to force out the words past the dryness in her throat. “Because all of the Greencastle demons are male.”

“Exactly.”

This had all been horrible, but an even more terrible thought had begun to surface in her brain. If this was some sort of demonic eugenics experiment, then it made sense that they would have used the strongest half-demon to stand in as her father. And that would mean….

She stared at Caleb in horror. “Is…is your father…my father?”

To her relief, he shook his head. “No. I think the thought crossed his mind at one point, but he decided he didn’t want to be unfaithful to my mother.”

“How noble of him,” Rosemary remarked, her tone acid. Although she was very, very glad that Caleb hadn’t turned out to be her long-lost half-brother, she wasn’t sure she entirely believed Daniel Lockwood’s reason for not being an active participant in their little breeding experiment. However, she didn’t bother to argue. Maybe Daniel had told his son that because he wanted Caleb to believe that his parents actually did care about each other. Their messed-up family dynamic was their problem, not hers.

Because she hadn’t gotten a response to her comment, she went on, “So…who is my father?”

Caleb smiled, a genuine one this time…or at least, a smile he wanted her to think was real. “Why don’t you come meet him for yourself?”

“‘Come….’” Rosemary repeated, then let the word trail off as she realized what he was asking. “You want me to come to Greencastle with you?”

“Yes.” He rose from the chair and extended a hand to her. “It’s time for you to meet the other half of your family, don’t you think?”

Her head was swimming. Rationally, she knew she should refuse, should either keep him talking until Will showed up or, failing that, get rid of Caleb before she did something really stupid.

But…so much of what he’d said sounded so plausible. In a way, it made far more sense than the original story the man she thought was her father, John McGuire, had handed her, although she had to remind herself that the man she and Will had met in that Indianapolis restaurant hadn’t been John after all. Just a cambion wearing a dead man’s face, albeit one that had been cleverly aged to make it seem as if he really was the man she’d known as her father.

“I’m not giving you the footage,” she said, and Caleb smiled, as if he’d realized the comment was a signal for her capitulation, even if she hadn’t intended it as such.

“I’m not asking for it,” he told her. “I just want you to come with me. And you can come straight back here after you’ve met your father. Will doesn’t even have to know that you’ve gone.”

Will. How in the world was she ever going to explain this to him? She didn’t know, but she supposed she could figure that out later. For the moment, though, she needed to get to the truth…no matter what.

“I need to leave a note for Will,” she said, and Caleb gave the slightest lift of his shoulders.

“Go ahead. Just don’t be too specific. You don’t want to frighten the guy.”

No, obviously not. Rosemary sort of doubted that Caleb’s solicitude had anything to do with actual concern for Will, though. Most likely, he just didn’t want her to say anything that would send Will chasing after her. And there was no reason for that, right? Caleb had said this would be a quick trip…if she could even believe him at all. That was a pretty big “if.” On the other hand, she needed to know the truth. If there was even the smallest chance that the man who’d approached her in the restaurant in Indianapolis wasn’t an angel at all, but a half-demon cambion, then she needed to find out, needed to confront him and have him tell her to her face why he’d thought it was okay to hand his daughter so many lies.

This could be a trap. But if that turned out to be the case, at least she was only endangering herself.

As Caleb watched, she went over to the antique table by the door and pulled out the notepad and pen Will kept in one of the drawers. I decided to take a walk, she wrote, figuring that would explain why her car was still in the driveway. Be back soon. Love you. Then she tore the piece of paper off the pad and laid it on top of the table, and placed one of the ubiquitous books that were scattered around the house on one edge of the note so it wouldn’t get blown off by a stray breeze. That way, Will should see it the minute he walked in the door.

“All right,” she said as she turned back toward Caleb and pulled in a breath. “Let’s go.”