Part 4 (1/2)

”No, but I am still seeking information.”

Jeb released a sigh he did not realize he'd held. No news meant no body. Yet. Van was strong, and resourceful, and Jeb's visions had not shown his oldest son's corpse. So Jeb would hold on to that knowledge. There was little that he could do on the physical plane, as Idaho was thousands of miles from Paris. But working with the spirits, he could and had been doing much.

So had one of his oldest friends, Philippe, though druids did not usually go out of their way to be of service to others.

”Is this Council business then?” Jeb asked as silence lengthened on the other end of the line.

”Yes and no.”

Philippe was a cautious man, not an obtuse one, so Jeb waited, leaning against the front porch post, watching the first rays of dawn kiss Antelope b.u.t.te in the distance. This had always been his favorite part of the day, early when the sun slowly revealed herself and all was fresh and new. Jeb did not think of himself as a romantic man nor a verbose one. Aideen, the woman he loved so wildly, so dangerously, had always said he never shared enough with her. Then one day it was too late.

He had tried since then to be both mother and father to his four sons and one daughter. Tried to fill the void left by their mother's abandonment. Tried to raise his offspring, each with their own abilities and talents, to be good people.

And they were. Even Alex, who had killed a man and was still paying the price. Just as Van was paying the price for being the type of man who took his responsibility as a soldier, as a citizen, so seriously.

Jeb wasn't sure why Van had disappeared, but the minute Van did, Jeb had started searching, seeking the truth, holding the knowledge from his other children so they would not feel the empty, gaping wound that Jeb felt every waking hour. Even as he watched dawn give way to morning.

”Jebediah, we must speak.”

Was that not what they were doing? Or did Philippe wish to connect in the supernatural realm, though they both were aware there were listeners there, too. Dangerous ones.

Jeb found his tongue reluctant to voice what his soul knew. Even powerful shamans could break if bent under the burden of too much knowledge, too much pain. Yet his tone held no waver as he asked, ”You are worried?”

”Oui.”

If there was one thing Jeb had tried to instill in his children it was responsibility, whether it was accepting punishment for a childish prank or facing the consequences for choices made. Jeb could do no less. ”Tell me what it is you wish from me.”

”Come to Paris.”

The answer felt like a body blow. Jeb walked the earth of his forefathers, gained strength from his physical connection to the high desert country of his home. He rarely traveled beyond his self-imposed boundaries, unless called by the Council of Seven.

But Philippe was not the Council. One of its oldest members, yes, and that meant something as druids were known to be long lived, even older than many of the others on the Council. So why Paris? And why now?

Instead of asking, though, Jeb did what he knew his friend would do for him. ”I shall find the next flight available.”

”Bon.” Jeb could hear the relief in his friend's voice, which worried Jeb even more.

”I will contact you once I arrive.” Jeb took a deep swallow of cooling coffee.

”I shall open my home to you,” Philippe replied, then added. ”but I ask a small request.”

”Yes?”

”Tell no one you are coming.”

”No others on the Council?”

”Especially them.”

Now Jeb knew the situation was dire. Philippe took his position as senior Council member very seriously, often acting as the lone voice of reason between the various interests and factions. Since the Council included fae, s.h.i.+fters, vampires, witches and demons as well as shamans and druids, reason often b.u.t.ted heads with warring needs and ancient feuds. These seven members spoke not only for themselves but for the peoples and the beings not represented on the board, and there were many.

Juggling the needs of preternaturals made raising five children on his own seem smooth sailing in comparison. So why the sudden secrecy?

”I will speak to no one,” he said, to allay his friend's concerns. ”Until I speak with you.”

”You are a true friend, mon frere.”

Jeb knew Philippe used his word choices intentionally and being included as a brother meant a lot to both of them.

”I shall send Pdraig to meet you at Orly.”

Pdraig was Philippe's newest protege and Jeb had heard a lot about him, though they had never met. ”I look forward to meeting this young man at last,” he said. ”And we shall see if he lives up to his name's birthright.”

Philippe gave a soft chuckle, maybe surprised that Jeb would know the meaning of the Irish name. But then Aideen had been Irish through and through, her Celtic witch roots running deep.

Philippe's words broke Jeb's dark memories as the Frenchman spoke of his protege's name. ”To be born n.o.ble you mean? I think you will be as impressed by him as he will be by you. There's nothing greater I can give him than to share our friends.h.i.+p.”

Jeb was truly touched. Yet Philippe wasn't finished. He cleared his throat.

”One more thing,” he murmured, his voice suddenly lowered as if someone new had entered the room. ”The request I just made to you. . .”

”To speak to no one of my coming?”

”Oui.” A pregnant pause. ”I ask that you extend that request to your own family.”

This was asking a lot, as Jeb did not like to keep secrets from his children. Adult grown though they were, to him they were still his responsibility.

Before Jeb could reply, or even know his answer, Philippe added, ”It will not be the first time,” his voice solemn.

Jeb straightened, knowing what Philippe spoke about though neither had mentioned that event, or its cost. So why now?

”Before I placed the needs of the Council above my needs as a father,” Jeb said, each word striking his heart. ”And I have paid the price of that decision every day since.”

”I am aware of this my friend.”

But was he? Was he really?

The case the Council had reviewed was complex. The use of magic to stop a rogue Were from killing a s.h.i.+fter who was in the middle of his change and thus vulnerable to attack. One sibling trying to protect another. In a different situation a jury could hear all the details and the accused would have not only been hailed a hero, but allowed to go scot-free. But not in a world where humans must never learn of the presence of non-humans. And if the human jury could never learn of the extenuating circ.u.mstances then the verdict was a given before the trial ever started.

Jeb had been told to be happy that the death sentence had not been decreed. Scant condolence when he saw his youngest child, and his only daughter, leave the courtroom for a life sentence.

It wasn't Philippe's deciding vote cast that day on the Council last spring. The vote that sent Jeb's only daughter to prison.

It was Jeb's.