When Shaw left, Lorcan had looked up to see, through the large leaded glass windows, the garden courtyard beyond. It was beautiful this time of year, and Zada had done her duties as his consort well. She had hired landscapers who had replaced the neglected and dead trees and plants with new trees, and lush new flowerbeds, a fountain with brightly colored koi fish, lovely outdoor furniture, exquisite magical nighttime lighting, windchimes, and peaceful décor largely made from jewel toned colored glass and semiprecious stones. It had a very Zen feel about it. It had become one of Lorcan's favorite spot in the entire estate.
It had been there, out in the garden courtyard, where he had last seen or spoken to Alexis. She had been delighted by the addition of the koi. The artist in her had loved the flashing brilliant colors as the fish swam in the fountain, with the light sparkling off their shimmering scales.
Had it really only been this morning? Or had it been longer than that? But she had been sketching. Or, rather, finishing a sketch. He remembered her large sketch pad and her sketching pencils, her watercolor pencils, all scattered about her, and her intense dedication to finishing the sketch.
He remembered her little girl excitement when she said it was almost finished and she had been determined to finish it that morning. He loved her work, but that morning, when he had asked to see what she was working on, she had become secret and had drawn the sketchpad up to her chest, her bright smile flashing across her face with childlike excitement.
"Noooo! It's a surprise, Daddy!" she beamed.
"Is that for me, then?" he'd asked hopefully. He had yet to get one of her sketches. It had been a bit of running banter between them. He had asked for every sketch he'd seen her work on, and her response had always been that when she did a sketch for him,she wanted it to be the sketch of a lifetime.
"Is everything alright, Daddy?" the voice called from the doorway. Alexis. So Shaw had been wrong. It had been a lie. She was home where she belonged.
"Ale..." he turned and then stopped short. It wasnt' Alexis. It was one of his other beautiful daughters--Raine. He might not have been a decent father when his children had been small, but he truly delighted in them now. "Raine," he smiled. "I'm sorry. I was..preoccupied, my dear."
He felt like his mind was blank, and that was rare. Lorcan was usually able to pull himself together, to always look like he was in control. But how? How was he supposed to tell his children that their sister had been murdered by Jack Dyllan? And Raine was so much like him that he already knew that her rage would burn hot, like an unquenchable fire. The best he could hope for was to try to keep her from going over the top with it. He did not want to have to bury two daughters.
"Come in," he said quietly. "We need to talk. Its important. Tell me, Raine, how much do you trust me to take care of this family? Of you and your siblings, no matter what? Be honest."
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