“So did I.” His words snapped her attention away from her traitorous body. “But I forgot my laptop. I got home and sacked out. Then, mid-shower I realized my mistake.”
“Yikes. Well, good news for you. I’ve been the only one in here since you left.” She lifted her finger to her lip, a nervous habit from childhood, but caught Derek watching and lowered her hand again.
Derek blinked and ran his hand through his still-damp hair in an agitated gesture he’d been using more and more lately. “It was a careless move. I never make mistakes like this. I’m in security, for fuck’s sake. I know better.”
Wow. She didn’t have to feign the shock she knew had to be reflected in her wide eyes. So unlike him to open up. Did it mean he trusted her? She knew his secret now. Shared a bond, so to speak.
Suddenly, she was back in Camelot, in the small home where her father had secretly housed her most of her adult life. Arthur—her childhood-friend-turned-king after he pulled Excalibur from the stone—sat at her quaint kitchen table, castigating himself. He, too, had beaten himself up over every little thing, taking his responsibilities more seriously than anyone expected.
“You were exhausted,” she felt compelled to point out to Derek now, just as she’d done her best to soothe the man she had loved then.
“No excuse. Shouldn’t have happened.”
Guilt ate away at her usually numb emotions. Despite his tendency to play white knight, Derek was a truly decent man—hard-working, determined to do the best job possible for his employers.
Nice even.
Look at how he’d taken her to dinner to help her relax after she hadn’t been all that welcoming.
Total bitch might be a more appropriate term for her behavior.
Too bad he stood in the way of the one thing she’d been seeking so long. Would he be able to stand in the way of a power-mad sorceress? Whether the dwarves meant to do it or not, Derek had been set up to fail. Morgan held that much power, or at least she had once.
Maybe Sasha could help him with that last bit. After all, she couldn’t let Morgan get the stone either. Damn, how was she going to protect the stone by getting to it before Morgan? It was going to be more difficult to retrieve it without being seen after all the security upgrades Derek had installed over the weekend. There was no doubt in her mind that Morgan would find a way around it. If only Sasha had way to slip past the cameras and sensor undetected.
She let out a silent breath, glancing down at where her hands rested on her keyboard.
My ring.
Her final gift from her father glittered at her in deep red beauty. How could she forget? She hadn’t inherited her father’s gifts as a mage, but he’d provided the ring charmed with special abilities on her eighteenth birthday.
She could still hear his rough voice. “Someday, it will help you win that which you seek.”
Fifteen centuries later, and she’d had yet to win anything she was seeking. But maybe she could use the magic in the ruby to help her keep Morgan from winning the stone she was after.
She stared at the back of Derek’s head, not really seeing him. What could she do with the magical gift? She needed to put it somewhere close to the safe. As she watched, Derek tapped a few keys and brought up the schematic of his sensors and cameras.
She bolted upright in her seat.
Perhaps she could enhance the security measures he’d already installed around the safe to sense magical interference. Getting into Lance’s office during the day was out. But the boardroom where they were about to meet sat at the center of the floor, with the dwarves’ private offices around it in a semicircle. If she could hide the ring in there before Derek, Lance, and the others gathered, maybe it would be close enough to the safe to work.
Sasha jumped up from her seat, and Derek swung around at the clatter she made as she jostled her desk. “I have to . . . visit the ladies room before our meeting with Lance. I’ll meet you up there.”
What’s got into her?
At the door, she paused and glanced over her shoulder. “Can’t a girl just have to pee?”
Derek frowned, confusion written all over his face. “I didn’t say anything.”
What the hell? He had spoken it, hadn’t he? She could compel people to do things, not hear their thoughts. Besides, she couldn’t compel Derek to do anything.
And now he was staring at her as though she were a total loon.
“I could see you thinking. Doesn’t take a genius.” As covers went, it was subpar. Time to redirect. “By the way, you missed a button.” She indicated his shirt, then escaped before he could cross-examine her.
It didn’t take her long to get upstairs. Outside the door, she paused and listened. As far as she could tell, the room stood empty. Fabulous. Still she hesitated. Whatever she did in that room would show up on Derek’s cameras, which meant she had to find a place to hide the ring where cameras weren’t.
Think, Sasha.
The loo.
A small private powder room was attached to the conference room, if memory served her right. She hadn’t specified which bathroom she planned to visit. So even if he did see her on the camera feed, going in there would corroborate her excuse. And there were no cameras in the bathrooms.
Brilliant.
She strode into the conference room, then slammed to a halt.
In place of the broken glass table stood a massive stone table with rough-hewn wooden legs.
It couldn’t be.
She crossed to the table and ran her hand along its smooth surface. Yes, they had replaced the modern glass table Derek smashed with Arthur’s original round table. She’d never gotten this close to it. The urge to lay her cheek against it, to allow the memories of Arthur to wash over her, was a physical weight in her chest. The pain of her loss, still fresh regardless of time passed, threatened to plunge her into darkness.
With a deep breath, Sasha stepped away and drew her shoulders back. She had to put a stop to this endless merry-go-round that was her life. Spinning on the stiletto heel of her boot, she headed directly to the door built into the white-painted wood paneling that decorated the walls.
Granted, the bathroom was situated at the opposite end of the room from where Lance’s office sat, but it would have to do. The space was lovely in a formal way, with Chevalier’s standard marbled flooring and a matching countertop. A gilt mirror glittered at her from above the more modern, raised-glass sink with an added step for the dwarves’ use.
This was a shared room, though the dwarves were probably the only ones who used it on any regular basis. However, the cleaning staff would come in daily, which meant the drawers and cabinets around the sink were out as hiding spots. She’d need a screwdriver to access the vents overhead. Her glance fell on the toilet.
Sasha sighed.
Shit happens. Get over it.
Determined to get the job done quickly, she pulled the lid off the water tank to the toilet. Good, no freshening products had been added, which meant the cleaning staff wouldn’t mess around with the tank unless the toilet stopped working.
Still, she didn’t want her gorgeous, antique ring knocking about in there or run the risk of its getting sucked into the toilet bowl. She flipped up the hem of her cream sweater and checked the underside seam. Sure enough, extra decorative buttons were sewn in there, in case she lost one. With extreme precision, she removed both buttons, careful not to break the thread.
Not an expert on toilets, first she fiddled with the tank, checking to see which parts moved and which seemed to stay still. Using the strings, she tied her ring to a part inside the tank that didn’t seem to move and was farthest away from the water valve. To be sure, she flushed once, watching closely. The ring did not knock against the tank sides. Excellent.
Those threads wouldn’t last too long in water, as flimsy as they were. At a guess, it would take her a week to plan and a week or two to prepare. This would work that long, right? Then the Immortality Stone would be hers, and she’d retrieve
her ring.
Now for the magic.
What had her father said? “Close your eyes and simply tell the ring what to do.” His deep, scratchy voice echoed inside her head, and an ache centered in her heart. Centuries later, and she still felt like a powerless little girl without him at her side.
She took a deep cleansing breath, willing away the sting of the tears that battered at the back of her eyes.
“Magic ring . . . ” Damn, she sounded like a silly duffer. She cleared her throat and continued anyway. “Use Derek’s security to protect the Immortality Stone from all magical ills.” She paused. “Oh! And prevent those systems from detecting me.”
That should cover it. She hoped.
With one final glance at the only object still connecting her to the past, she lifted the porcelain lid and covered the water tank.
Chapter 9
“What the fuck?”
The words burst from Derek the moment he walked into the boardroom. He couldn’t have stopped them if he wanted to.
“Where did you get this table?” he demanded as he strode to the center of the room.
This couldn’t be real. The table looked exactly like the one he’d seen in his flashback or dream or whatever the hell that had been when he’d kissed Sasha two days ago.
Impossible. No way could it be the same one. This had to be a coincidence.
Right, and a stone didn’t just glow, and you didn’t smash a glass table with an electric charge in this very room either.
Derek squashed the voice in his head. He reached out and ran his hand over the tabletop’s time-worn surface. A surprising warmth radiated from the stone, heating his palm. Within seconds, a sense of peace flowed through him. He closed his eyes, trying to recapture the memory from the other day.
Yes, this was the same table. It had to be. Before he could fully comprehend the fact that an object from the past—from his past?—now lay under his fingertips, he once again saw the man from his earlier vision. The stab of betrayal combined with the pain of heartbreak stunned him with its intensity. Derek wanted to hit him, hurt him back.
His eyes whipped open and clashed with Lance’s. Derek’s fists clenched. Lava flowed through him. He took one step toward the smaller man; then a hand landed on his arm.
“Derek, don’t.”
He wrenched his gaze from Lance to Sasha.
One word.
One single word had been enough to pull the red haze from his vision, cooling the anger that nearly made him hit a client.
Fuck, how had he almost lost control? He never, ever lost control in battle.
“I’m fine.” He shook his arm free of her hold. His gaze tracked back to the table before locking with Lance’s. “What are you doing with my table?”
My table.
Not the words he’d expected to come out of his mouth. But nothing could change them.
“Your table?” Lance scoffed. “I’ll have you know we’ve had this table since we started the company. It’s always been in our family’s possession, which means you have no claim over it. Now I suggest you sit and tell us how you’re going to prevent another burglary.”
Derek’s claim had been summarily dismissed. Such an asshole.
The familiar buzz of energy slowly sunk its talons into him. Instead of fighting it, for the first time ever, Derek accepted the power. Would bolts of lightning now sizzle from his fingertips, or would the power remain invisible as it had always presented itself? He was about to find out. Now.
He looked directly into Lance’s impenetrable, blue gaze. The CEO of Chevalier showed no emotion. No fear.
Mentally drawing in on himself, Derek maintained the eye contact but directed the energy building inside him to the intricate pendant light shining down on the stone table.
Ping.
Ping.
Ping.
One by one the lights extinguished, and the table became shrouded in darkness. Satisfaction washed through him. He’d done it. For the first time in his life, he’d harnessed his power and aimed it directly at the globes. He’d consciously thought about extinguishing them, rather than it happening spontaneously.
“If you check your emails, you’ll see an encrypted email from me. With the passcode I texted five minutes ago, you will be able to access all the information about the security updates I’ve either put into place or will by the end of day tomorrow.” He stared at the group of men, at the shock on all of their faces, barring Lance, who was stoic as always.
He’d had enough. He’d worked solidly since Saturday. If he lost the contract, he didn’t care. He was taking the rest of the damn day off.
“I’ll be back tomorrow,” he declared as he turned and walked out of the room.
“Derek, wait,” Sasha called to him down the hallway, but he ignored her. A million sensations swirled around him, buffeting him all at once. He’d controlled his power. But he’d also let Lance’s words and demeanor get to him.
He took the stairs to the ground floor, then strode back up to the floor housing their shared office.
But their office was empty. Well shit, had he really thought she’d follow him when he’d ignored her?
Yes.
Since when did he care what a woman did or didn’t do? He needed to get out of the building. Scooping up his backpack, making sure his laptop was in there this time, Derek slung it over his shoulder and walked out of the office.
Time would tell if harnessing his power was a fluke or a new norm for him.
• • •
Derek paced around Sasha’s office like his mother’s Pomeranian patrolling around the kitchen with his favorite toy hanging out of his mouth—a destination in mind but nowhere to go. He didn’t so much as have a destination, more like a sixth sense trouble was brewing. If he had any idea what that trouble was, he’d be able to stop it. Only he didn’t, and so he had no plan of action.
It had been three weeks since he’d spectacularly cleared out of the Chevalier boardroom. He’d spent that day taking his frustration out in the dojo. He had to leave a couple hundred dollars to replace a glass window he’d broken when his attempt at controlling his energy again failed miserably. Fortunately for him, his Kenjutsu master had assumed he’d lost his grip on his wooden jo. Derek hadn’t said anything to contradict his assumption.
Derek had turned up for work Tuesday morning, and it had been business as usual. Even Sasha hadn’t questioned him about what he’d done. The whole situation had a surreal quality about it, like every damn thing that had happened to him since he’d been contracted to provide security to Chevalier.
Meanwhile, nothing unusual had happened in the last three weeks. That alone set him on hyper-alert. Prior to him coming on board, little things had occurred on a regular basis. It had started off with items being moved around Lance’s and a couple of the other executive’s desks. Then stones that should’ve been in the vault, weren’t. Since the large uncut stone had been stolen, peace had reigned around the office.
Other security types would tell him the thieves had gotten what they’d wanted. Only Derek didn’t believe it.
Sasha sighed loudly. “Oh my God, will you stop? I’m trying to work here, and I can’t with you trolling around the room.”
“Sorry,” he muttered but continued his pacing.
“Why are you still here?” she persisted. “The workday finished a while ago.”
He scraped a hand down his face. “Yeah, I know but I—” He paused. “I can’t explain it, but I have a feeling something’s going to happen.”
She lifted a single, unimpressed brow. “Well, that’s enlightening.”
Usually, he’d tease her back. Her snark was more bark than bite, maybe even her odd way of teasing, but not this time. “It’s a military thing. You wouldn’t understand it.”
“Try me.”
He huffed out a breath. Sasha probably would get it, considering she’d accepted his issue with electricity without raising an eyebrow.
“It’s an i
nstinct that danger is looming. Most of the guys who’ve been deployed will tell you that, time after time, the back of their neck got itchy. Or the hairs on their arms stood on edge. No one ignored it, and nine times out of ten, that early instinct saved them from being seriously hurt or dying.”
“Did it save you?”
“More times than I can remember.”
“And you’ve got this feeling now?”
He began pacing again. “Yeah. It’s been too quiet since the robbery.”
“Perhaps the thief got what he wanted.”
“You’d think, but I have a feeling that was just the beginning.”
“You worry too much.” He tracked the soft sway of her hips as she approached him, and shoved his hands in his pockets to stop from reaching out and pulling her tightly against him.
His desire for Sasha had flowered and grown the longer they worked side by side. She had a wicked sense of humor, which explained her snark. She might act aloof around her staff, but she cared that they succeeded in their jobs, advising them on how to cut the gems. She gave out pointers along with an encouraging smile.
Every smile from her ruby-red lips enticed him to sample her again. Her skin begged to be touched. But he probably wouldn’t stop at kissing her. Many nights she’d visited him in his dreams, and he’d woken sweaty, hard, and in need of a release that only sinking into her body could achieve. His hand was a very poor substitute.
However, the bizarre memories that bombarded him when he kissed Sasha were yet another reason he should stay away from her tantalizing lips. A seed of anger germinated in him every time he thought about the stone table in the boardroom. And he didn’t believe the explanation Lance had given him. That table was Derek’s; he just didn’t know why he felt that way. So he’d let it go. For now.
Either that or check himself into a mental hospital.
White Knight Page 7
