Page 37 of Dark Rebel's Mystery

Max studied Boris's face, seeing now how the years of carrying this burden had carved deep lines around his mouth and eyes.The man had lost his wife and had probably lived in fear of her family coming after Jasmine. He had pushed his daughter away not only because she reminded him so much of Kyra but also because he was afraid that if she was taken from him, he would break apart and never come together again.

It was a cowardly notion, and Boris should have been stronger for the sake of his daughter. He should have showered her with love to compensate for the mother she'd lost. Instead, he had remarried and hoped his new wife would fill the void Kyra had left behind.

He could have done better, but he was just a flawed man, and Max still felt compassion for him.

The revelation that Kyra's family had taken her changed everything they'd thought they knew. If her relatives had initially taken her against her will, perhaps she had later chosen to stay with them to protect Boris and Jasmine.

As Brundar moved closer to Boris and started whispering soothing words that Max was surprised the Guardian was capable of, Jasmine walked over to her mate and sat down beside him.

When Ell-rom wrapped his arm around her, she turned her face into his chest and cried.

It seemed that Kyra's story was much more complex than they had expected. More pieces of the puzzle had been discovered today, but, regrettably, none that pointed toward where she could be found.

24

JASMINE

Jasmine wiped tears from her cheeks as the four of them walked from the rental car toward the restaurant. She probably had raccoon eyes from her running mascara. It was supposed to be waterproof, but tears were not made of just water. Emotional tears contained stress hormones and proteins in addition to water, and those could dissolve any kind of eyeliner or mascara.

"Are you okay?" Ell-rom asked.

She nodded. "My father's breakdown shattered the image I held of him through all these years. In a way, it's a relief to know that the cold, unemotional man who seemed to take pleasure in criticizing my every choice was a sham. But it's hard to see that the real man underneath is still grieving. Still bleeding."

Her father was drowning in grief and guilt. He'd lost the love of his life and couldn't bear to fully love the daughter who reminded him so much of her. Maybe his attempts to force her into a conventional career path hadn't been about control but about trying to protect her in the only way he knew how.

"He loved your mother very much," Max said softly as he held the restaurant door open. "He's still heartbroken over her loss so many years later."

"I know." Jasmine sniffled, following him inside.

When they were seated, she looked at Brundar. "I'm glad you made my father forget. How did you do that? Did you plant new memories in his head?"

She expected a nod or a shake of his head, but for a moment, Brundar didn't react, maintaining his usual silence. Just when she thought he wouldn't answer her at all, his pale blue eyes met hers. "I made him forget that you were there. That's why I took the empty whiskey bottle you brought for him. I didn't want to leave any trace of your visit." He paused. "I also planted a mental suggestion for him to accept that it wasn't his fault that Kyra had been taken, and that he couldn't have done anything to prevent it."

Jasmine frowned. "Does he blame himself for it?" Her chest tightened at the thought. "Why would he?"

"Your father believes he should have taken Kyra more seriously when she warned him about her family. He thought that she was being melodramatic and that the worst-case scenario would be her family disowning her. They were affluent and influential, and he refused to believe that they would stoop to the barbaric custom of what is called honor killing in that region." Brundar paused, probably feeling out of sorts after having said so many consecutive words. "He blames himself for not taking her somewhere safer, like South America or some other place where information about people wasn't so easily obtained. He's carried that guilt ever since. I hope I eased his burden."

The Guardian fell silent.

"Poor man," Ell-rom said, squeezing her hand. "I understand why he would feel that way. If someone took you from me because I wasn't vigilant enough, I would blame myself as well."

Max was still staring at Brundar in amazement, no doubt surprised by the stone-faced Guardian's show of empathy. It seemed that like her father, Brundar was projecting a certain image to protect a softer inner self.

Had he also lost a loved one?

Empathy was often the product of suffering. There was a powerful connection between personal adversity and one's capacity to understand others. While people could develop it through observation, there was nothing like personal experience to gain visceral appreciation for the pain of others.

"Let's order." Max lifted the laminated menu. "I'm starving."

"We should call Kian," Ell-rom suggested. "Let him know what we discovered."

"It can wait." Max was still scanning the menu. "As emotionally earth-shattering as today was, we didn't learn anything that will help us find Jasmine's mother."

"I've always thought he resented her," Jasmine said quietly. "That he blamed her for leaving us. I even read about how people's grief often turned to resentment, blaming the deceased for not taking better care of themselves or for being careless. I thought that was how he was dealing with her death. Then, when I started to suspect that she was still alive, I thought he was angry because she'd left him."

Ell-rom wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "He did an excellent job of bottling up his feelings, and I'm sure he thought that he was protecting you by shielding you from his pain."

The same had occurred to her. "In his own misguided way, by pushing me toward a 'safe' career and being critical of my choices, he was trying to make sure I would be okay if something happened to him. The funny thing is that despite my questionable career choices, I took care of myself and never asked him for financial help or any other kind. I've been independent for years." She sighed. "I was also so angry about the way he judged me. It feels good to let go of this anger."

---