See Part One For Disclaimers

Chapter Three

It was early in the morning when he left . . . the sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon, and his children were asleep.  His eldest daughter was in California, beginning her final year of college.  He wouldn't have to worry about her . . . she was twenty-one years old, a grown woman.  She would be fine.  At least, that was what he kept telling himself . . . had to keep telling himself.

It was his two younger daughters who concerned him.  And as Douglas Barton stared at his sleeping sixteen year old daughter, his fear rose up once more.  What if he failed?  What if he was discovered, and the Legacy took action against his children for the quest he had chosen for himself?  He no longer held the illusion that the Legacy would protect the innocent.  That illusion had been destroyed years earlier.

He looked again at his second daughter.  Valerie was now a high school senior. . .the attack which had killed her mother also damaged Valerie's own spine.  She had decided that when she returned to school, it would be on her own two feet, rather than in a wheelchair.  She had almost no friends, and wanted friendship, not pity.

When she wasn't in physical therapy for her spine, she was reading.  Studying.  Leo Herzog continued his visits to the House, teaching her ancient Hebrew.  In addition, Valerie began learning Greek . . . fitting, Douglas thought, since she had been born in Greece.  When Mel was home for the weekend, she would tutor Val in math, and let her read her college books while Mel was taking care of Kerry.  Knowing how much his second daughter loved books, Douglas also knew it was the happiest she could have been under the circumstances.

When she returned to school the following year, it was discovered she was at the same level as a high school sophomore.  Valerie was only thirteen years old, but eighth grade didn't challenge her mind sufficiently.  After an involved conversation with the ever-present Nathaniel, Douglas had enrolled her in high school.  Initially resented by her classmates, the girl gradually won them over during the next few years.  Oh, she wasn't the most popular girl in school, but she had won acceptance and respect.

That, he knew, was small comfort to his middle daughter.  In the four years since her mother's death, he had heard her crying at night.  And he knew Val had been unable to forgive herself.  She believed there was something she could have done to save her mother.  But that had been taken out of her hands, the hands of a defenseless twelve year old girl.

By three men.  Jonathan Boyle, Derek Rayne, and Edmund Tremain.  Two precepts, and a simple Legacy member.  Not so simple, however, for Boyle had attacked and beaten a pregnant woman . . . Deirdre . . . and her twelve year old daughter.  He deserved to pay for what he had done.  His attack had sent Deirdre into premature labor, and caused her death.  But Tremain and Rayne hadn't seen it that way.

According to them, there had been no crime.  With that decision, Douglas had made a decision of his own.  He was through with the Legacy.  Oh, he would still fight the good fight.  He would still protect the innocent from the shadows and creatures who hated the light.

But he would do it on his terms . . . not the Legacy's. The Legacy had allowed his wife's murderer to go free.  The Legacy had allowed his children to be threatened.  The Legacy was nothing more than a sham, an illusion.  His faith in the Legacy was no more, and while he would have never said so to his best friend, a priest, his faith in a loving God had been destroyed along with his faith in the Legacy.

So, even as he pretended to keep faith with the Legacy, he began to move away from the organization which had cost him so much.  The time had come for Douglas Barton to mete out justice.  He would start with Jonathan Boyle, for it had been Boyle who had knocked over the first domino.  He would take justice, since the Legacy would not.  

But to do that, Douglas Barton had to die.  He had to make the Legacy believe he was dead.  He had made that decision a few weeks earlier . . . it was the only way he knew to protect his daughters.  If he was dead, the Legacy would never think to blame him . . . and would therefore leave his daughters alone.  Let them find their own ways, and their own truths.  Which was why Douglas was leaving early.

He watched Valerie sleep . . . he wouldn't see her graduate from high school in June.  He wouldn't see her get married, or have children.  That was his sacrifice, his punishment, but it was worth it.  She was worth it, Melanie was worth it, as was little Kerry.  My God, he thought, gazing at his middle daughter, she's beautiful.  I never told her how beautiful she is.  I should have told her.

There were so many things he had left unsaid.  I should have told her she was beautiful, he thought, I should have told her so many things.  But I can tell her now, while she sleeps.  He walked silently into the room and tenderly kissed her forehead, murmuring, "I love you, my beautiful Vally girl, and I am so proud of you.  Take good care of your little sister.  And maybe one day, you'll be able to forgive me.  For everything."  He kissed her dark hair, then left the room.  He still had to say good-bye to Kerry.

His final legacy from Deirdre, their four year old daughter Kerry Isis, named by her two older sisters.  She was sleeping in the room which adjoined Valerie's.  The sixteen year old had insisted . . . she and Melanie were the little girl's mother figures.  And Kerry would need her if the toddler had a nightmare.  Douglas closed the door behind him, only to find his youngest daughter already awake.

"Daddy, daddy, daddy," she chanted, holding out her arms to him.  Douglas swept her up into his arms, holding her tightly.  Valerie had given her a bath just before bedtime, and Douglas could still smell the shampoo in his daughter's hair.  It was Valerie's favorite shampoo, and Kerry insisted that her sister use the same on her hair.  Lilac . . . funny, now that he thought about it, lilac had been one of his wife's favorite scents as well.  Or not so funny.  There were times when he would swear Deirdre's soul lived on in Valerie.

"I have to go away, my little one," Douglas whispered to his daughter, amazed at the strength in her tiny body, "I have to go away.  But I want you to know . . . never forget . . . how much I love you.   How much I love your sisters."  He pulled away to look into Kerry's brown eyes.  She looked like her mother, she looked like her sisters.

"Where are you going, Daddy?" the little girl asked, cocking her head to one side.  To the best of his recollection, his youngest daughter had never spoken baby talk, but he had been so consumed with his plans these last few years, he couldn't have said to be sure.  Kerry continued, "Why are you going?  Was I bad?"

Tears formed in her big brown eyes, and Douglas immediately reassured her, "Of course not, sweetheart. . .you're a good girl!  You're my very best girl.  But that's why I'm going away.  Sometimes, Kerry, sometimes we have to do things.  Things which will hurt other people.  Things which other people won't think are good, but really are.  I'm going away so I don't hurt you, or your sisters."

He could tell from her glazed expression that she didn't understand what he meant.  Kerry asked again, "You're not going because I was bad?  Then why are you going?"  Douglas realized that he would have to do what he hated most.  Lie to his child.  He lifted her from her bed and carried her to a nearby rocking chair.  

"I won't be gone long, princess," he told her, sitting down in the rocking chair.  She looked up at him trustingly, and Douglas forced himself to continue, "I just . . . sometimes, I'm afraid that if I leave the House for even a few moments, I'll never see you or your sisters again.  The last time I left your sisters alone, your mother died.  And I'm afraid of losing you all.  That's the only reason I said what I did."

"Then you'll be back?" Kerry asked, blinking back her tears, and Douglas nodded.  He was close to tears himself, but for a different reason.  He had never lied to his children before, had sworn to himself after Deirdre's death that he would never lie to his children, not even to protect them.  They had encountered too many lies from the Legacy.  And now here he was, becoming that which he hated most.

"Do you promise?  Pinkie promise?" the little girl persisted, and Douglas cursed himself.  He had frightened his daughter with his talk about loving her and her sisters forever, and made this that much more difficult.  If he had kept his mouth shut, this wouldn't be happening.  Stupid, weak fool, he raged at himself, you don't deserve any of them!

"Pinkie promise," he answered, despite the lump in his throat.  Kerry relaxed, resting her head against his chest.  Of course she would relax.  He had never broken a promise to her before.  Not before today.  And it was killing him to break this promise, but that would be his punishment to bear, not his daughters.  But even as that thought crossed his mind, he knew it to be a lie as well.  He knew his daughters would bear this punishment.  The only question was, which girl it would affect most.  Douglas shook his head, determined to follow this through.

"Now," he said, kissing the top of her head, "now, I'm putting you back to bed.  Let your sister sleep as long as she likes today.  No, don't pout, that's not what a big girl does.  I'll see you when I get home."  He rose to his feet and carried the child back to bed, tucking her in.  Douglas kissed his daughter's forehead, murmuring, "Sleep well, baby.  Happy dreams."  He caressed her dark hair, then quietly slipped from the room.  There was no more time.  He had to leave for San Francisco.  Now.

*    *    *

The flight from Vancouver to San Francisco wouldn't take long at all.  Douglas had been the precept for Vancouver House for only a year, and he fully trusted his people to take care of his two daughters.  They were so young . . . so very young . . . and so very idealistic.  That idealism would protect his daughters in the months ahead.  He paused just long enough to call Boston House.

Justin Adams had been his college roommate, and Douglas wanted to leave a message for his old friend.  While he knew that Nathaniel would take care of his daughters, Douglas wanted a back-up plan.  Justin was that back-up plan.  If anything ever happened to Nathaniel, that he couldn't look after Mel, Valerie, and Kerry, Justin could.

And if he couldn't, perhaps his wife Madeline could.  She was already raising their two children, Kristen and Ethan.  If the worst happened, she would get two more children, but Valerie could help her with the younger children.  Kristen, herself just barely a teenager, was already helping Maddy with her little brother.

It was unfair, since Justin didn't even make time for his own family, but Douglas understood the reason for that.  Ever since his infant daughter Claire had been killed, Justin had driven himself blindly.  His work with the Legacy was his way of dealing with the pain and the guilt of being unable to protect Claire from her kidnappers.  That had been thirteen years earlier.  There was no way Claire was still alive.

Once he told his old friend good-bye, Douglas left for the airport.  Within two hours, he was on the flight bound for San Francisco.  He tried to relax, but the images kept parading through his head.  Valerie at twelve, after the attack of Jonathan Boyle almost killed her, lying in her hospital room.  Melanie at her mother's funeral, barely able to hold back her tears as her mother's ashes were scattered on the wind.

Deirdre in life, as he had seen her that last time before his departure for that damn conference.  Laughing, only weeks from giving birth to their youngest daughter.  That youngest daughter herself, Kerry, as Douglas had seen her only a few hours earlier.  He wondered how long it would take his people to realize that he wouldn't be coming back.  

Not that long, he was sure.  While they all seemed so terribly young to him, Douglas knew none of his people were stupid.  As soon as they learned of Jonathan Boyle's death, it wouldn't take them long at all to put the pieces together.  He had never made a secret of his hatred of the man.  Not even to the members of other Houses, such as Justin Adams, and Justin's colleague at Boston House, Jane Witherspoon.

The question was, would his people in Vancouver tell the Legacy hierarchy?  And even if they did tell them what they knew, would the hierarchy realize that his people were innocent, just as his daughters?  Douglas doubted it.  That was why his people knew nothing of this mission.  He had to protect them somehow.  It seemed to him that he was making things worse for himself, and for those he loved most, but it was too late for him to turn back now.

At long last, he landed in San Francisco.  Three days from now, Jonathan Boyle would no longer exist.  Three days from now, the payback would begin.  The countdown to retribution had begun.  And Douglas knew he had a lot of work to do in those three days.  He gave a harsh laugh.  Three days to death, three days to life. . .it was almost Easter.

*    *    *

"It took you long enough," the being said as Douglas Barton entered the house.  The truth was, the entity never had any doubt that Douglas would show up.  There was too much hatred in the man for him to back out, no matter how much love he had for his daughters.  Three and three, it evened out quite nicely.  Three daughters . . . three men to destroy.

But the only one who concerned him now was Jonathan Boyle.  He really was becoming a pest, and the entity realized that he had a goal in common with the former Legacy precept.  Douglas Barton wanted to kill Boyle for the death of his wife.  The entity who called himself Bryan Crenshaw wanted Boyle to stop nosing around things that didn't concern him.  It worked out beautifully, all things considered.

"We have two days yet.  You knew I would fulfill my end of the bargain," Barton answered and Cranshaw nodded.  Yes, he had known that.  Faith wasn't his cup of tea, but he would use it when he found it necessary.  Barton continued, sitting down in a chair opposite his own, "So what exactly is it that you want me to do?  Lure him here?  That would be kind of redundant, don't you think?  He's already coming here, to track you down.  Besides, what makes you think that he would trust me?  He knows I want him dead."

"Lure him?  No . . . confirm his suspicions, however . . . that would be helpful.  You could tell him that you've been tracking me as well," Cranshaw suggested.  He paused, smiled darkly, then added, "In fact, you could tell him that I killed one of your daughters, and that's why you're tracking me.  Tell him, that he owes you."

Barton raised a brow, then said, "You think he gives a damn?  He threatened my life four years ago, to try to get my middle daughter to change her story about her mother's death!"  Cranshaw inclined his head to acknowledge this point.  Barton continued, "However . . . that gives me an idea.  Would you agree that most abusers feel threatened somehow?"

Cranshaw looked at the former Legacy precept in astonishment . . . Barton was asking HIM?  Barton added hastily, "Okay, wrong person to ask!  But truly, you gave me an idea.  As an abuser, Boyle feels threatened by anyone who challenges his perceptions.  That's why he killed my wife, because she was a witch and because she challenged his manhood.  So . . ."

Cranshaw was sure there was a point to this drivel, and he waited patiently as Barton murmured to himself, then finally asked, "So, what you're saying is, you'll contact Boyle and challenge his manhood to get him to the ambush.  Clever.  But how exactly do you plan on doing that, my dear Dr. Barton?  Boyle is no fool.  Neither of us particularly like him, but he isn't a fool."

Barton smiled grimly, answering, "Oh, but he is.  That's the beauty of it.  Say for instance, I call him . . . perhaps at home, or at the Legacy House.  Better the Legacy House, especially if Derek Rayne is there as well.  Besides, I don't want Boyle's wife or son to get involved with this.  They've done nothing to me.  I tell him that I've been tracking you as well, because you killed my daughter, Valerie.  I remind him that he tried to kill Valerie himself, and tell him that by helping me, he's being given a chance to atone for what he did."

Cranshaw blinked, asking, "And as you so eloquently put it a few moments ago, why would he care?"  His companion laughed softly, and Bryan Cranshaw cocked his head, looking at Douglas Barton.  Once more, he wondered if he could fully seduce the former precept to the Dark.  He was, after all, halfway there.  He had sought out and made a deal with the devil to avenge his wife's death.

"Because, that's the beauty of the plan.  I remind him that he tried to kill Valerie, and tell him this is his chance to atone for what he did.  Men take responsibility for their actions, after all, or so I was taught.  Let's see if Boyle is man enough to atone for what he did to my daughter," Barton answered.

Cranshaw took only a few moments to think this through.  The man was right . . . Boyle would never be able to resist that challenge to his masculinity.  That was something Cranshaw had learned just in his few skirmishes with the man.  Then he nodded approvingly, saying, "Do it.  Make the call . . . you know what to say."

*    *    *

Back in Vancouver, a storm raged within the Canadian Legacy House . . . once Valerie Barton had awakened on the day of her father's departure, she knew what had happened.  She had always known a day would come when she would wake up to chaos because her father had left unexpectedly, without a word to anyone else in his House.  She had just hoped she was wrong.  The question now, what would she do about it . . . if anything?  Was there anything she could do?

After some thought, Valerie decided her first priority was her younger sister.  Kerry had been the last one to see her father, and he had assured her that he would come back.  When the day ended without their father's return, the little girl realized that he had lied to her.  Not that she would admit to this at first.

But Kerry was devastated, and Val knew that the child would be questioned by the Legacy hierarchy.  She had encountered Sir Edmund Tremain's attempts to get at the truth in the past, and she didn't trust him in the least.  And so, for the first time in her young life, Val consciously made a decision to lie.  And to keep her baby sister away from the Legacy hierarchy.  That wasn't the only decision she made.

The second came at the end of the second day.  She called her older sister Melanie in San Diego, and told her the news.  As she had been taught by both her father and her godfather, Val had obtained a secure channel first, before calling her older sister.  And then, she waited . . . waited for the sky to fall on them all.

Continued

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