Chasing the White Lion James Hannibal (essential reading TXT) 📖

heard a noise in the night. I crept down to the wine cellar and saw Papa standing over a bloodied man while our chauffeur beat him senseless.”

The brush Talia had been running through her hair paused and came down to her side. “Why are you telling me this?”

“I assume the man who dedicated me to God was also christened as a child. And yet he became the devil himself. What does that say of me?”

All sense of teasing and sarcasm had fled Val’s features. What remained was a skeptic struggling to face something that cut deep into her soul. “We all make our own choices, Val. You. Your father. This baptism was a symbol of my choice to accept the forgiveness and salvation bought with the blood of Christ.”

“But you are going to heaven.”

A portion of an unavoidable smile tipped up the corner of Talia’s mouth. “Yes.”

The smile did not help Val’s mood. “And I’m not going to heaven, right? I mean, let’s face it. That’s what you and your church friends believe.” Her arms were crossed, shoulders hunched. If Val could see herself, she would tell Talia that she—the mark in the language of thieves—was now seeking a reason to be offended, another defense mechanism.

Talia remembered a passage from 1 Peter she’d learned in the newcomer’s class. For those who refused to believe, Christ the cornerstone would be a stumbling block and a rock of offense. A battle lay ahead. Was Talia up to fighting it? She put the brush in her purse, flattened her skirt, and opened the kitchen door for them both. “We believe heaven is open to everyone. It’s simply a matter of accepting the gift.”

THE REST OF THE CREW waited in the parking lot. As Talia came out with Val, the grifter and Tyler exchanged a glance, and only then did Talia realize Val had entered the changing area at his behest—for Talia’s protection.

He never stopped hovering.

“You can go now,” Talia told him, hurrying up to the Jag before Jenni or Bill came over and made frank conversation impossible. “I’m having lunch with my family. I’ll ride with them.”

Tyler scrunched his nose. “Why wouldn’t you ride with us?”

“Because you’re not having lunch with my family?” The implications of the statement hit her, and her stomach flipped. “Oh, Tyler. No.”

“Wendy invited us. Sweet lady.” He patted the roof of the car. “Hop in. I told her we’d pick up some fish on the way.”

LUNCH STARTED at awkward and went downhill from there.

Wendy had bitten off more than she bargained for with Uncle Tyler and his entourage. Talia could see it in her eyes as Mac ducked through the front door. Talia felt like Jack bringing the giant home for dinner.

Tyler caught her at the edge of the living room. “Stop looking so worried. Darcy left her explosives in the car.” He shoved a bag of fresh cod into her hands. “Take these to your foster father. He’s on the deck firing up the grill.”

The dining room table did not fit all nine of them, so Bill set up a folding table at one end. He offered to sit there with Wendy, but Talia wouldn’t have it. “Eddie and Darcy will take those places. Right, Eddie?”

“You’re putting me at the kids’ table?”

Tyler intervened. “Tell me you haven’t read a comic book in the last twenty-four hours and you can sit with the grown-ups.”

Eddie frowned and sat down.

A cat burglar in the kitchen and a grifter at the grill turned out to be the least of Talia’s worries. Once everyone had gathered at the table, with platters of blackened cod and corn on the cob between them, Bill rang his glass with a spoon. “Excuse me, everyone.”

They all looked up. Tyler swatted a roll out of Mac’s hand.

“I didn’t expect such a large audience, but I’m going to do this anyway. I have an announcement, or better yet, a presentation.”

He was looking at Talia as he spoke. What presentation? she wanted to ask but couldn’t find her tongue.

Her foster father produced a flat red box, wrapped with a silk ribbon. “Wendy and I prepared this a couple of weeks ago, but you can’t imagine how hard it is to get Talia over for a meal.”

Finn raised a fork. “Sure we can. Right, princess?”

Talia kicked him under the table.

Before she knew it, Bill was at her side, laying the box on her empty plate. “During the baptism, I referred to Talia as our adopted daughter, not our foster daughter.” He squeezed her shoulder. “She may have noticed.”

She had. For a foster kid, it was a sharp distinction.

“I should have remedied this disparity long ago. Go ahead, Talia. Open it.”

Tingles shot through her arms, so strong that she struggled with the bow. When she finally pulled the top away, she found a short stack of papers inside. “These are . . . legal documents.”

“They’re adoption papers,” Wendy said, hope in her voice.

“But I’m not a minor anymore.”

“It doesn’t matter to us.”

“This is expensive.”

Bill took his wife’s hand, and they both smiled at Talia. “It’s what we want.”

Eddie sniffled, which might have been the cold, but Talia heard Mac sniffle too.

Bill kneeled beside her chair. “We understand. This is a big step. It’s okay if you want to think about it. Right, Wendy?”

“Right.” Wendy’s hand slipped out of his, quivering a little. “You don’t have to take our name, if that helps.”

Everyone at the table watched her, none more intently than Bill and Wendy. Talia could feel their disappointment. They had expected a different reaction. But how could they have sprung this on her today, in front of people they hardly knew?

“I . . .” The truth rolled through her mind. I have to check with the CIA first because legally tying myself to you puts you in danger. Oh, and by the way, the boss I have to ask is trying to have me killed. “I do need a little time.” She replaced the lid and set the box under