Chapter 3

• “Where is she?” A man that looked identical to Troy, except with a goatee, came running in. He was barefoot, clad in dark jeans with a white dress shirt hanging open, his hair looking like he just climbed out of bed. He ran toward me then stopped at the end of the bed. Squinting his eyes, he studied me for a moment.
• “Chase.” A tall woman with black hair ran in the room. She stopped and huffed out a breath. “He ran all the way here.” She held her hand over her chest and tried to catch her breath.
• “I don’t see it.” Chase waved a hand erratically toward me. “No resemblance whatsoever.” He snorted, “Which is a blessing for her, he’s ugly as…” the hand waved some more, “just ugly.” Moving to the side of the bed, he bent down and looked at me with a strange look on his face. “What-what is your name?”
• Hesitating, I looked around, no one seemed concerned with this strung out man standing there. “Paisley Roan.” I said slowly.
• “Roan! Yes.” He spun around and went toward his twin. “The fates wouldn’t be so cruel as to bring her here and it not mean something.” He nodded and then pointed to the woman in the corner, Crissy, I think someone called her. “She saw it. She saw it. So it must be…” Jolting, he paced away then paused and looked at the man with the towel around his neck. “Arius why are you standing there dripping wet?”
• The serious grey eyes finally moved from me to look at this Chase man. With a jerk of his head he motioned to me. “I pulled her out of the bay. She jumped off the cliff to get off the island.”
• “Right.” He rushed over and grabbed his face between two hands. “Bless you.” When the grey eyes glared at him, Chase jerked his hands away then he spun and came back toward me. “Do you know your parents? Uncles? Aunts?”
• “My parents died.” I glanced around the room and all eyes were on him, not me.
• “Oh.” His face briefly showed sadness. “That’s—I’m sorry.” Jerking, he paced to the end of the bed. “When?”
• Scowling at him, I pulled the large robe tighter around me. “When I was a baby. My grandmother raised me until she passed away.” I looked at Bethany, hoping she’d offer some insight as to what was wrong with this man. She stood there with her eyes wide staring at him.
• “Your grandmother.” He moved quickly to the other side of the bed and leaned down. “What was her name?” He waved a hand at me, “other than gramma, or granny or whatever?”
• “Melissa Roan.” I said with hesitation.
• “Roan! Yes.” He straightened and crossed his arms over his chest. “Did you know your grandfather?”
• I shook my head, hoping if I answered his strange questions he’d go away, and I could figure out how to get out of here. “He disappeared before I was born.”
• “Disappeared.” He threw his hands up in the air and looked at his twin. “Vanished!”
• “Chase…” Troy stepped toward him.
• Chase waved it off then went toward him. “For two hundred and sixty years he’s looked at me—us, like we were some sort of parasite.” He turned and gave me a stern look. “King not bug!”
• He laughed and went to the red headed man with the soft brown eyes— that were filled with shock right now.
• “And now—now I have something to jam in his face that will knock him off his Elder-high-horse-never-stepped-out-of-line-in-his-perfect-life. Ha!” Pulling his phone out, he waved it around then spun back to me and shook it. “Now here she is in all her beautifully splendid existence-ness.” He smiled at me. “His…great, great…I don’t know.” He turned and looked around at the others. “I need a mathematician.” Tapping his screen, he continued to pace. “Michael. I need a genealogist and one of our historians.” He paused. “Do we have a historian genealogist? I need one of those. Now.” He waved his hand around. “In the girls’ room.” With a sound that was close to a growl he looked around the room. “In recent months whenever one of us have referenced the girls’ room, which room did we mean?” He shook his head. “The Huntress’s room. No. Not Troy’s!” He spun around and pointed to a door. “The one with the mall closet—just get here.” Hanging up he turned around, looking very excited then turned again and ran out the door.
• “Alona…” Troy looked at the tall woman with the black hair.
• She had her hands over her mouth, her eyes huge and was shaking her head. Dropping her hands, she backed toward the door. “I’m sorry.” She looked at me. “So, so sorry.” Her eyes moved over everyone standing there gaping at her. “I’m afraid this is my fault.” She looked back to me. “I’m an empath—he’s an emotion feeder,” she shook her head, her face blushing, “we were experimenting—he’s a little excitable right now.” She grinned, “Sorry.” Turning she ran into another large man with short black hair and a scar down his face.
• “Alona, what the hell is wrong with Chase?” He dropped his hands from her arms. “He orders me here and now he’s running down the hall with his arms in the air doing a victory lap?”
• She laughed.
• “Where is my queen?” Chase’s voice boomed from the hallway.
• Laughing the Alona woman ran out after him.
• The dark-haired man looked around. “What did I miss?”
• Troy shook his head and looked at me. “I apologize for that—whatever that was.” He smirked, “even though I’m going to play it on a loop in my head, over and over, for the rest of my life.” He turned his hand slowly beside his head.
• The less serious looking redhead hugged Bethany. “I don’t know what he had, but I’ll take two.” He laughed, and she smacked him. “Sorry, but that was funnier than the time we tried…”
• Troy cleared his throat.
• “Never mind.” He finished.
• “You men are all ridiculous.” The blonde woman said. “As if Paisley isn’t traumatized enough after what she’s been through.” She pointed to the door. “Out. All of you! Out.” She looked at the one with the towel around his neck. “You too Arius, before your eyes get stuck in that position from staring at her.”
• The men gave me a look, then started for the door. Definitely not associated with those people on the island.
• “We’ll talk shortly.” Troy smiled at me. “Rest and warm up.”