Up ahead, something moved.

Bubbe stepped out from behind the gym, onto the other end of the sidewalk. Her arms hung at her side, her shoulders rounded. She looked old and tired.

She’d pulled this trick before. She didn’t fool me-not this time.

“Do you allow me a mistake, devochka moya?” she asked.

I shifted my gaze, the lump in my throat making it hard for me to swallow, the sudden pounding in my chest making it hard for me to stand there, not to run away.

Reynolds turned, but slowly, like he was afraid of startling us. I ignored him. Whether he entered the building or not, discovered what we were or not, didn’t matter. Nothing mattered.

I turned too, but away. There was nothing for me here now. No trust, no love. The shop I’d built, been so proud of, the mother and grandmother I’d believed in, none of it meant anything. The only thing left was Harmony. I was going to go get her, take her and leave.

Florida. There was a camp there, but it was a big state. We could keep away from it, from Amazons, and Harmony would like it. What teenage girl didn’t dream of living near the beach?

“Some things you can’t run from. Some things follow.”

I came to a stop. Was she saying she’d follow, like she and Mother had the last time? I turned back.

“Don’t. I won’t take you in this time.”

“I did what I thought was right. What was best. Have you never made a mistake? Done something that later you knew hurt others?”

The dead girls. One, then two. Slipping their bodies from my truck, rolling them into the grass. Zery staked out in my yard. Then Pisto taken too…dead. Were my silence, my actions, the cause?

My hands started to shake.

“I can’t take it back. I can’t do it over.” Bubbe didn’t move, and her voice didn’t change, but I could feel her sorrow…her regret.

I stared at the tip of my boot, at a brown scuff on the black rubber.

I didn’t want to understand what she had done. I didn’t want to forgive her.

Reynolds stepped off the sidewalk into the grass, moved toward my grandmother. I didn’t know what he was thinking, why he was approaching her, but suddenly I did know, angry as I was, much as I wanted to hate her with all the abandon I’d hated Alcippe, I couldn’t.

“No,” I said.

Reynolds stopped. His eyebrows rose.

“You don’t have my permission to go inside. There’s nothing in there for you. Nothing that will help you with your case.”

Then I turned to my right and walked down the steps, into my shop’s basement.

I wasn’t ready to forgive Bubbe or even talk with her, but I wasn’t running either. Not this time.

Chapter Twenty-four

I made it to my office and was in the process of shutting the door when a hand thrust against the other side, stopping its closure. My thoughts shot to Reynolds.

“I didn’t give you permis-” I jerked the door open, and stared into the chocolate brown eyes of Peter.

“You didn’t give me…?” he asked. His tone was teasing, but his eyes were dead serious. I knew instantly another shock was coming my way.

I left his question unanswered, moved to my desk, and collapsed into my chair. He followed me, reached down, grabbed me by the forearms, and pulled me back up. My chest was pressed against his and, in any other state of mind, I’d like to think I would have shoved him away, but I didn’t, I just let him hold me there, and when his lips lowered to mine, I didn’t object.

His kiss was firm, reassuring-like he knew the turmoil I was going through and wanted to make it right. I wanted someone to make it right, maybe that’s why I let him kiss me, why I leaned against him just a little, opened my lips beneath his.

His tongue found mine and my hands found their way around his neck. His hair tickled my fingers. I wanted to stand there, and forget everything for a while. Pretend I had no bigger issues to deal with than the risk of another employee or a client walking in and finding me hanging on him like an adolescent lost in her first make-out session.

He pulled back just a smidge, enough that our lips separated but our bodies were still pressed together. My breath was ragged and my heart was pounding, but this time it felt good. I felt alive, was happy I’d come back.

“I need to tell you something.”

And like that, my happiness fled.

I loosened my fingers, took a step back, ignored the sudden feeling of loss. “Why’d you do that?”

He ran a hand down my arm, caught my fingers in his. “Because I knew I might not be able to again, not after we talk.”

A ball of dread grew in my stomach. I sat down, more to get away from him, to keep myself from touching him, than to relax. There was no hope of the latter.

He exhaled and walked to the other side of my desk, to the window that overlooked the cafeteria and gym. “I know about the Amazons.”

I stiffened, but then forced myself to relax-or appear to relax. “You mean the women renting the gym? Is that what they’re calling themselves now?”

“I know about you…that you left the tribe, that you were pregnant, but never appeared with the baby.”

My fingers curled around the arms of my chair. He’d been eavesdropping.

His gaze turned on me then, and I knew it was more than that-he knew more about me than I’d ever dreamed possible; he was involved somehow in my life. “Where is he, Mel? What happened?”

I stood, didn’t think about it, just did. “Leave.”

He shook his head. “Bad start. Sorry. It’s just…we’ve wondered for so long. We’ve been able to track almost all of the others, but your child-the one we had the most interest in, he…” He looked at me. “It was a he, wasn’t it?”

I couldn’t answer, but I didn’t want him to leave. I wanted to hear what he had to say. The hand I’d raised when I’d ordered him to leave drifted back down to rest on my desk. “Who the hell are you?”

He stepped away from the window. “I’m an Amazon.”

I laughed without humor. He was crazy. “You are not an Amazon.” I’d felt the evidence of just how male he as when we’d kissed.

“A son.” He watched me then, waited.

I blinked, confused. “A son?” What he was saying sank in then. “You are the son of an Amazon?” I asked.

He nodded, his eyes still alert.

I looked at my computer screen, black and covered in a coating of dust that didn’t show when it was on. I wasn’t sure how to play this-if I should play this.

“There aren’t a lot of us-not as many as there are Amazons, but we’re growing, finding those who don’t know their heritage, bringing in those who we can.”

I leaned back and let my chair rest keep me vertical, hoped my upright posture hid the shock that threatened to send me sliding to the floor. “But why? Why would the sons gather together? What do you want?”

He frowned, an angry line forming between his brows. “Heritage. Support. Understanding.”

“But Amazon sons…” Took after their fathers. Weren’t Amazons.

“I’m as much an Amazon as you are…or”-a strange look flitted over his face-“most Amazons anyway.”

There was something about his tone, the way his eyes didn’t quite meet mine. “What do you mean most Amazons? Why single me out from the grouping?”

“You were the first.”

“The first what?” I was feeling queasy, didn’t want to hear more, but also couldn’t help myself from asking.

“The first child of a son and an Amazon.”

“What?” I couldn’t keep the confusion out of my voice, and outrage, what he was saying…It was possible, of course, the Amazons didn’t keep records of the male lines, but to say my mother…I shook my head. The odds were too great. Part of the benefit of moving around like we did was to avoid the type of inbreeding he seemed to be insinuating.

“This is ridiculous.” I shoved my chair back from my desk.

He moved forward, leaned over my inbox. “Not that. I’m not saying your father was your grandfather or whatever you’re thinking. I’m saying your father was a son of an Amazon-a different Amazon, not your grandmother or your mother, a whole different line. Telios, right?”