43. Jamison

Shower. Talk. Sex.

None of it went exactly as planned.

But nothing with them ever did.

After finishing in the shower, they continued to talk, with Liam giving her more details. "We nabbed cops out of Port Michaelson, and a doctor in Hollingsdale. All of them new to the area over the last year."

"Was the doctor another fertility specialist?"

"Pediatrician."

According to Liam, the doctor didn't know what he was doing and only attempted to access their security system when Michael panicked.

"Sinclair wasn't expecting the jammer, and he sure as hell wasn't expecting Rowan to go so hard."

They brushed their teeth together, sharing the mirror and sink. It was the most basic task, but the intimacy in the act had her heart close to bursting.

He finished first and gave her butt a squeeze. "Stay naked."

She didn't linger, but by the time she finished her skin care routine, Liam had already entered a comatose state and was in the bed snoring loud enough to wake the dead. With a smile, she got in and curled next to him, ready for a long night of rest.

His sister.

Why would Michael risk her?

Why would Michael risk the kid?

Something wasn't right.

An hour passed, her mind racing. The idea that the sister had drawn Michael into Zanmi was a sound theory. This whole thing could be one big family drama, which was honestly relatable.

Another hour ticked by, and her tired brain begged her to give up. Getting nowhere fast and knowing she wouldn't be able to rest on her own, she rummaged through her nightstand for the bottle of melatonin.

The gummies worked in minutes, and she settled next to Liam again, the flow of thoughts slowing as she drifted off to sleep.

"Do you understand yet?"

Jamison blinked, her eyes adjusting to the bright light. She was crouched on the ground just off the side porch, her bare feet sinking into the green grass on Haven's lawn.

"Do you understand yet?" CeCe asked again, standing above her, and blocking the sun. "Jamison?"

Damn those gummies.

Not wanting a repeat performance from the last dream, Jamison held her hand out to keep CeCe back. Out from under Haven's haint awnings, she was vulnerable, and should CeCe go batshit again and transform into that fresh out of the grave look, Jamison wanted a head start.

"The sister."

"No." CeCe's shoulders slumped. "This is so hard."

Wind shook the surrounding oaks, whipping the low-hanging moss about. Way out in the center of the yard, a man stood with his shoulder propped against the trunk of the largest tree. He turned to the side, and when she caught sight of his profile, Jamison pushed CeCe out of the way.

"Ty!"

He didn't move, and she called out again, hurrying over while CeCe followed.

"Jamison, listen to me," CeCe hissed, the material of her long white nightgown swishing in the wind as they went."He's lost and angry."

"Ty?"

"Ugh, no!"

Another person manifested around the oak the closer she came to Ty. A striking woman with shoulder-length brown hair and a thin frame. She kept her hands tucked into the pockets of her fitted slacks, and her eyes on the forest.

"Is that Samuel's mom?"

"Miranda visits us sometimes." CeCe sounded relieved. "On big days like today, when Samuel will need her."

Jamison stopped. "Why will Samuel need her?"

Under their feet, the ground vibrated. A rhythmic bass rumbling from somewhere deep in the earth. It stretched the length of the estate all the way to Haven House, and Jamison glanced behind her, doing a double take when she saw Simone on the front porch.

"She dreams of us," CeCe said sadly. "It makes her sad."

The rumbling at their feet grew, and Jamison continued to Ty. A second man had joined the gathering, one she recognized from pictures.

"And why is Devon here?"

"He sticks mainly to the trees and likes it when Annabeth comes outside to sit and read under them."

CeCe pointed to the darkened doorway of the last cottage near the forest. In it stood the silhouette of a woman gazing out over the scene. A pulse of amber light beat at her center, thumping in time to the vibrations.

"There's my mama. She's always here. Never leaving. Never moving on. Haven House will forever be hers."

"That's not really fair, is it?"

CeCe's features softened."Life isn't fair, Jamison. Not for anyone, but especially not for the Fairweathers. That curse you feel hanging over your head is real."

A puff of air swept past Jamison's lips. Icy and cold, it formed a perfect cloud as she spoke. "I don't believe in curses."

"You don't have to believe. It's there either way. If it weren't, you and I wouldn't be standing here. Our lives would be different. We would have grown up knowing what it was like to have mothers." CeCe's eyes drifted lower, landing on Jamison's stomach. "To be mothers."

Not wanting to hear anything else her imaginary dead cousin had to say, Jamison trudged across the lawn.

Oh, look!" CeCe chased after her. "There's your mama."

From around the oak, Laura Jean twirled into view. She danced to the growing music seeping up from the earth, through the forest, and the very air around them. All eyes were on her. All eyes except the ones belonging to the little girl with blonde curls and a sweet smile running over.

"Fancy meeting you here," the girl joked when she reached them.

"Livy is our comedian." CeCe spun her sister by the hand. The odd pair giggling as they danced together. "She keeps us entertained."

"Do you still like to dance, Jamison?" Livy asked. "We used to watch you sing with your hairbrush when you were small."

Jamison didn't like the sound of that. "You were in my room?"

"No, silly. We can't go in the house." Livy gazed up at the balcony. "But sometimes we can see everyone through the windows."

"We can also see the things that happen when the balcony doors are open." CeCe and her sister giggled harder. "I like him."

While the sisters chatted excitedly about Annabeth's love life, Jamison remained hypnotized by her mother. Rebecca might forever remain at Haven House, but the magic of Laura Jean would always rule here.

"Can I talk to her?" she asked, but no one answered as the clouds rolled rapidly across the sky to wipe away the sun. CeCe and Livy faded, the others going with them, gone in an instant as night descended on Haven House.

Left alone, Jamison stared at the one who remained. The shadow with her amber heartbeat.

"Do you remember this song, princess?"

The question carried over on a breeze, the wind winding around her as if curious.

"I guess?"

Suddenly at her side, Laura Jean formed on the spot where CeCe had once stood. "It's a favorite of mine, but it was playing that night." She frowned, lost in her sadness. "I couldn't hear. None of us could until it was too late."

The song ended, the music replaced by a chorus of crickets and other nightly vermin. "I don't remember anything," Jamison told her mother. "I don't remember that night. I don't remember the nights before it. And I don't remember you."

"But you feel me?" Laura Jean laid a hand on her cheek, and Jamison leaned into the touch, breathing in what smelled like vanilla and patchouli. "When you're scared or happy, you feel me around you?"

Jamison wasn't sure if it was the gummies or her own sick brain torturing her, but none of her dreams ever had them talking about the past. "Sometimes," she admitted. "Do you know who I am?"

"Of course, I know who you are."Her mother looked offended. "My baby, I would know you anywhere. In this life and in the next."

Laura Jean pulled her in for a hug, and Jamison took the opportunity, resting her cheek on the top of her mother's head. She was so small. Like she would break if squeezed too tight.

On the cottage porch, the dark figure twitched unnaturally, agitated. The others reappeared, encircling Jamison and her mother.

CeCe stepped forward. "It's time."

The announcement had Laura Jean reluctantly letting her go. "We can't stop it."

"We try every time he comes here," Ty said, his face tight with strain. "But revenge is a poison that rots the soul."

"Pain can be purged for a time but never erased." Miranda joined them. "You can understand, can't you, darling?"

A void of smoky dark grew on the cottage porch, engulfing the figure of Rebecca. Everyone turned to look as it scurried into the trees, issuing a warning wail as it went.

"They're here," Devon said grimly.

Weaving through the pines of the deep, dark wood, a cluster of glowing orbs approached the forest's edge.

"Who is that?" Jamison asked.

The white stayed low to the ground, not very high at all.

"They're mine," CeCe replied, openly crying as Devon held her. "We'll take them to the beach. They'll like it there."

Jamison frowned, her brows snapping together. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, my." Her mother turned away from the flittering orbs. "You look like Ben when you do that."

How did she put into words her father's endless suffering? Jamison didn't know, and could only think to say, "He misses you."

Laura Jean's bottom lip trembled. "Remind him that living is hard, but he has to take his time. He has to stay. We have a deal." Her mouth scrunched tight. "Tell kitten I love her, and remember that I love you too, princess."

"Listen to me," Ty said over his shoulder, not taking his eyes off whatever was coming. "Don't be brave, Jamison. Not tonight."

The escalating panic among the group had her stepping past them to see better. "What the hell is happening tonight?"

Waking with a start, Jamison sat up in bed, disoriented and breathing hard. Her room. Her things. Checking the spot next to her, she found Liam snoring.

Her man.

The echo of the dream faded, leaving her drained. As her eyes adjusted, she squinted at the melatonin bottle, swearing off them forever.

Lightning flashed through the open balcony curtains, and she got out of bed. A storm was coming in off the bayou, and since her section of balcony overlooked the entire estate and inlet, they would be treated to a strobing light show if she didn't close them.

Liam rolled over, his snoring reaching top volume. She grinned, thinking she might record the moment for evidence. It would be wrong, but…

Snatching her phone from the vanity, she cackled softly as she started filming. "You're the one who snores, Jamison," she whispered, mimicking his voice. "I don't snore at all."

Out of the corner of her eye, something moved on the lawn, and turning to see what it was, she froze, the video of Liam forgotten.

A woman dressed all in white glowed under the full moon as she walked out of the forest and made her way to the house.

Recognition struck, and Jamison sucked in a sharp breath. "Jan?"

Liam said they hadn't been able to locate her since the costume party. Several well-check patrols had gone to her house or to her family's homes, but none had come up with any new information on her whereabouts.

Jamison tried the handle, but the balcony door wouldn't budge, held in place by a gust of storm winds.

"What the hell?"

The phone in her hand pinged with a message from an unknown number.

You have something of mine, and I want it back.

Michael.

He must have sent Jan to intimidate them, and Jamison furiously texted a reply.

You're getting nothing back.

Hitting send, she returned her focus to the lawn, expecting the security detail to escort Jan off the grounds at any moment.

But no one came.

Another text message hit her phone.

Have it your way.

Jan's slow trek to the house picked up speed, and Jamison beat on the balcony door, shouting to distract her from whatever she was planning to do.

The noise woke Liam, and instantly alert, he shoved on a pair of pants and ran over. "Get away from the window."

She didn't listen and kept yelling, but this time, her attempt worked. Jan stopped, her gaze finding Jamison in the window.

"Jesus," Liam whispered. "Is that Jan?"

"Yeah."

With a blissful smile on her lips, Jan slowly raised an arm, pointing the long blade in her hand directly at where they stood.

There was no time to react.

No way to stop it.

The knife sliced downward, and Jamison screamed.