Read Preda's Voice (Guardians of Vaka Book 1) for Free Online Page B

This was tough to do when she was still convinced this wasn’t real. “Gentlemen, I don’t know what danger you perceive me to be in, but what you likely don’t know is that my father made it his life’s business to ensure no one ever knew me well enough to care who I was.”
    “He should have done better,” Mr. Scott burst out. He suddenly stood and started pacing the room. “This is all happening the wrong way. This is not how she was supposed to find out, Tamron.”
    Tamron Fox had his head in his hands and sighed in exhaustion. “That man was not your father, Preda. Your father was a good man. He was someone worth following.”
    Preda’s heart skipped a beat, and she sat up straighter. “Look at me,” she pleaded.
    Mr. Fox lifted his head and locked eyes with her.
    After a few seconds she gasped. “You’re not lying to me. This isn’t a dream, is it?”
    He shook his head slowly. “The reason you can speak to us is that we are already devoted to you. We have been since you were born. I could never lie to you, but you can’t control me against my will.”
    “But you lied to me today. You’re not a detective.”
    “I never told you I was. You believed what you wanted to believe.”
    Preda’s mind quickly backtracked over her time with Mr. Fox, and she couldn’t think of a single time he had directly deceived her. Something else he said struck her then. “I can’t control anyone against his or her will. I can only hurt people.” Her father had told her this, and she had always known it to be true.
    Mr. Scott chimed in then. “No, Preda. We will teach you how to control it, but you can do so much more than you think with that voice of yours.”
    Preda looked at Mr. Scott and felt a little hurt. “Why didn’t you tell me I could talk to you?” she asked. “I had no one.”
    She knew she was feeling sorry for herself then. Preda could see how Mr. Scott was struggling against her words, but she didn’t care. Tears were running down her face, and she picked Fiver up and held him against her chest as she stood. This was too much to process.
    Mr. Scott wore an injured expression. “We should let her sleep. We can tell her more tomorrow,” he said.
    Mr. Fox made as if to object, but he could see Preda was instantly relieved at the thought of going to bed. It was, however, the thought of being alone that she really looked forward to.
    “Fine, but we are getting up at dawn, Preda. We are leaving tomorrow,” Mr. Fox said.
    Preda nodded. She knew she wouldn’t have a choice. There was nothing else left in her life except these two men and her cat. Preda made to pick up the tray after Fiver had carefully balanced himself on her shoulders.
    Mr. Scott stopped her with a gentle hand on hers. “I will take care of this. Your room is the second one on the left at the end of the hall. There are pajamas on the bed, and there’s a toothbrush by the sink in the bathroom next door.”
    Preda straightened and numbly nodded. She wanted to thank him, but her voice was tired. She hadn’t spoken this much, except maybe to Fiver and a tomato plant, in her entire life. She turned and left them both without saying good night.
    When Preda entered the bedroom, she gasped. The pajamas on the bed were soft, and the bed itself looked brand-new and comfortable. That wasn’t what caught her attention, though. On the windowsill was a familiar ceramic pot with a crack down the side that her hands had repaired with glue. She walked in to the room toward the pot, and Fiver hastily jumped off her shoulders and onto the bed.
    Preda picked up the pot in her hands and inspected the delicate purple orchid growing inside. Who was she to Mr. Scott that he would save a broken pot for her?
    She had so many questions. If Phillip Torrance wasn’t her father, then why had she been with him for her whole life up until now? She felt sure this must be a mistake. Why would he have moved her all around the country if he wasn’t even related