sedona files - books one to three

by Christine Pope

  You’re beautiful.

  So are you, I thought back at him, and he grinned and stripped off his own clothes, thus proving me right. That body looked like it should be on a billboard.

  After that I didn’t have much chance for rational thought, because he was on top of me, mouth trailing from breast to my stomach, moving lower, and he was tasting me, tongue doing things I’d never even imagined. All I could do was twine my fingers in his hair, feeling the heat in my body swirling in my core, bringing me to an orgasm that had me screaming into the quiet cabin, gasping for breath even as he moved into me, filled me once again, our bodies rocking together. And then somehow we were rolling in the bed, with him shifting the two of us so I rode on top of him, fingers tangled in one another’s, clutching with all our strength as we rocketed to a shared climax, light and shadow swirling around us, taking us with them, until I collapsed next to him and he pulled me close, drawing the covers over us.

  My weariness caught up with me at last, and I began to slip away almost at once. Even so, I thought I saw his lips moving, and I thought I knew what he’d said.

  I love you, Kirsten.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  No rest for the wicked, of course. I did sleep the sleep of the just, only to wake up to a scent of sausage that turned out to be pre-fab breakfast burritos. Better than Pop Tarts, of course, but I would have killed for some bacon and an omelette after yesterday’s…exertions. Yes, that was a nice catch-all phrase for everything I’d done.

  As before, Martin was already showered and dressed. I admired his efficiency while at the same time cursing the sloth that made me sleep through his preparations, thereby missing the opportunity to watch him walk around naked. Oh, well.

  I climbed out of bed, glad that he’d built the fire back up again, and snagged one of the burritos from the plate where it sat. “So where are we off to today, O Zen Master?”

  He only shook his head and set a mug of English Breakfast down next to the burrito plate. “We’ll go to Cathedral Rock. It’s a good place for you to learn to separate the inflow and upflow energies.”

  That didn’t sound too frightening. Also, Cathedral Rock and the area around it were some of the most beautiful landmarks in already beautiful country. I could think of worse ways to spend my day.

  I could tell from his tone that he needed me to be all business. Maybe a small pang as I imagined climbing into bed with him and snuggling all morning, but we didn’t have time for that. I’d just have to hold last night’s memories to me and hope for a repeat this evening.

  “Sounds good,” I said, my tone deliberately neutral.

  After that I ate quickly and hurried into the shower, right after I pulled my phone and charger out of my purse and plugged them in. It was true that there was no reception up here, but I had a feeling there would probably be a ton of messages waiting for me once we got into town where I could pick them up. Having a dead phone would only make matters worse.

  Lather rinse, but no repeat, because I’d washed my hair the day before and didn’t have time. Quickie toothbrush, blow-dry, mascara, lip gloss, underwear, jeans, T-shirt, sweater.

  Thus ready for the day, I left the bathroom and checked the charge on my phone. Seventy-two percent. It would have to do.

  Martin didn’t exactly smile as he saw me, but I thought I saw a certain light in his eyes as I came toward him and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, then wiped away the smear of lip gloss I’d left behind. “Okay, ready.”

  Instead of opening the door, though, he bent down and gave me a real kiss, one that tasted of hot chocolate, and said, “Today should be easier.”

  I knew he meant to reassure me. In my mind I couldn’t help wondering if he was taking it easy on me today because the big showdown was going to take place in less than thirty-six hours. All I said, though, was, “That’s a relief,” and I let myself out of the cabin.

  The sun was up, the clouds of the day before mostly gone, and with the rising of the sun most of the snow from last night had already begun to melt. I trudged along the muddy path to the car, then scraped off my boots as best I could on one of the large rocks that bordered the parking lot. Martin went around to his own side of the car and did the same before he got in.

  I glanced at the clock on the dashboard. Eight-thirty. Not too bad. There weren’t many cars passing us headed north as we drove down into town, and I wondered if the snow from the night before had closed the highway.

  After that I didn’t have much time to worry about it, because we came down into Sedona proper, and immediately my phone started chiming, alerting me to all the emails and text messages and phone calls I’d missed the day before. I shot Martin a brief apologetic look and waggled the phone next to my ear, signaling that I really needed to get my messages. He gave a philosophical shrug and returned his attention to the road, which luckily wasn’t that crowded, since the stores weren’t open yet.

  Oddly enough, the first voicemail message was from Persephone Oliver, of all people. “Hi, Kirsten. I know you have a lot on your plate right now, but I need to talk to you in person. Call me, please.” She hung up after that — no explanations, no clarifications. Just weird. Something in her voice told me I’d better call her, though.

  Later, I told myself. She might not even be up yet. Which was probably a cop-out, but I didn’t know Persephone well enough to guess whether she was a morning person or a night owl. Considering she was married to an astronomer/astrophysicist, I would guess more the latter than the former, but you never knew.

  After that I had a call from Kara, of course, urging me to further caution and telling me I should really come by and talk. Why, so she and Lance could both dog-pile me? No, thanks. I had the feeling she would really flip out once she discovered Martin and I had taken our relationship to the next level, as it were, and I had enough to deal with as it was.

  That was it for voicemails, thank God. Texts from my friend Lindsey, wanting to know if I had time to go shopping this weekend.

  Yeah, sure, Linds…let’s get together Sunday if the world’s still here.

  I thought that probably wouldn’t go over very well, so instead I just texted back: Working all weekend. Rain check? and sent it off. Then I remembered the “Closed for family emergency” sign stuck to the door of the UFO Depot and hoped Lindsey was busy enough that she wouldn’t come by to check on me. That could be bad.

  Nothing from Jeff, of course. I wanted to be relieved, but underneath my irritation toward him I did worry…a little. Brilliant he might be, but his emotional development left a lot to be desired. I couldn’t help feeling guilty over the way we’d left things, especially with him stuck there at Michael’s place with not a lot to do. I could only hope that his work on cracking the aliens’ transmissions was keeping him busy enough that he didn’t have much time left over to mope about me.

  And after that were a bunch of junk emails, and a couple of questions from my client whose project was outstanding, along with a query from someone else who wanted a site done after the first of the year. My calendar was getting pretty full. It would be nice if I were actually around to enjoy the fruits of all these commissions.

  “Everything all right?” Martin asked as I shoved my phone back in my purse.

  “More or less. Persephone wants to see me about something, though. Think we’ll have any time today?”

  “Is it important?”

  “She sounded like it was.”

  “Then we’ll make time.”

  That didn’t reassure me quite as much as I’d hoped it would. So was the work we were doing today not as important as Martin had made it sound?

  I glanced at the clock again. Five minutes until nine. I knew that once we got off the main highway and started hiking back toward Cathedral Rock, the phone would most likely drop out again. I’d have to risk calling and hope for the best.

  Persephone picked up on the second ring. “Hi, Kirsten.”

  She didn’t sound particularly worried or stressed
out, but that didn’t mean much. Psychic she might be, but she’d been a therapist before that, and so I knew you couldn’t always tell what was going on with her just from her tone of voice.

  “Hey, Persephone,” I said. “You wanted to see me?”

  At that she did pause. “Yes. I’m glad you called me back. Do you have any time today?”

  I pulled the phone away from my ear and shot a questioning look at Martin. “Time?”

  One o’clock, he responded silently.

  “How about one?” I asked Persephone.

  “That sounds great. I’ll see you then.”

  “Okay. I’ll be there at one.” I ended the call, wondering what exactly I’d just signed up for, then shifted in my seat so I more or less faced Martin. “You’ll need to drop me at Persephone’s. Is that all right?”

  “Of course it is,” he replied, sounding amused. “I like being your chauffeur.”

  “You do? Because I could probably pick up the van — ”

  “No, it’s fine. Really.”

  I had to be content with that. What he’d do with himself while I was making this secret but apparently important social call at Persephone’s, I had no idea, but her place wasn’t too far from some shops and restaurants. He could always put his feet up at the nearby pub and hang out until I was done.

  By then we were at the extreme south end of Sedona proper. We pulled onto Back O’ Beyond road and followed the signs to the trailhead. I’d done this hike before, but never in the winter, so I had no idea what shape the trail would be in after the snow of the night before. Well, I supposed I’d find out soon enough.

  As he’d done the day before, Martin brought along a small backpack with bottled water and some trail bars. I wondered if that was all I’d have to live on until I went over to Persephone’s. Or maybe he’d told me one o’clock because he planned to feed me after our excursion to Cathedral Rock. A girl could hope, anyway.

  Since the trail was steep, I didn’t have a lot of breath left over for talking. I trudged along behind Martin, watching my breath puff out in the chilly air, trying to hold the memory of last night’s warmth close to me. It seemed as if that ecstasy had happened long ago, to some other person.

  As we climbed, I did begin to feel what Martin had been talking about, how the rock was a vortex for two different kinds of energy. Upflow, because of the spires of rock that seemed to pierce the sapphire sky, but I could sense how the power moved downward as well, channeling itself through the saddle cut into the enormous formation.

  Those twisting energies were beautiful, but difficult to track, whispering and winding around me from all directions. It didn’t help that I had to keep most of my own energy focused on the treacherous trail. Ahead of me Martin moved forward, each step deliberate and sure. Obviously he was having no problem negotiating the difficult ground. As the trail veered ever upward, though, he reached back and took me by the hand, lending his strength to me. I clung to his strong fingers, glad of the assistance. Actually, I was mostly glad that he’d noticed my difficulty and had reached out to help me without a second thought.

  At last we reached the second saddle point between the upthrust spires of rock. Here the energies were stronger than ever; my whole body seemed to buzz with them. It was good that we’d stopped, because I needed to catch my breath if I was going to have any hope of sorting through those intertwining streaks of light and power. As I concentrated, I could see that the upflow energies were the familiar white-gold I’d seen at Bell Rock the day before, while the downflow energies had a cool blue tinge, as if they’d picked up some of the inky shadows between the rocks.

  “You see it, then,” Martin said quietly.

  “I-I think so. But they’re so knotted up together!”

  “Focus on the upflow energy. That’s what the aliens will be attempting to harness.”

  I did as he instructed, closing my eyes, letting that inner sense or power or whatever it was follow the upward movement of the gold-hued light. In a way it almost reminded me of the time when I was ten and a friend of Grandpa’s had brought in some illegal fireworks from New Mexico. There had been cones that sent out showers of starry sparks in shades of the palest wheat, and that’s what I saw now.

  These fireworks would be even more deadly in the wrong hands than those illegal ones.

  But now that I had something solid and real to latch onto, it was easier to let the bluish light flow downward and away, out of my field of vision. It had its own power, of course, just not one the aliens apparently meant to tamper with. It seemed almost to fade out, while the white gold light grew stronger, sparking and sizzling.

  “I think you’ve got it,” came Martin’s voice, warm with approval.

  I opened my eyes and grinned. “Really?”

  “Really. I told you today would be easier.”

  The actual energy work, sure. The hike? Not so much.

  It didn’t help that we were far more exposed here than we had been in our little grotto on the leeward side of Bell Rock. The wind blew strongly from the north, and although I’d bundled up and the sun shone brightly above, we were mostly in shadow here, and it was cold. Really cold.

  “Th-then c-can we get down now?” I asked from between chattering teeth.

  His answer came in the form of him pulling me against him, holding me close, lending me some of his warmth. “Yes. It’s almost lunchtime anyway.”

  “D-damn.” More of that weird time dilation that seemed to happen whenever I went inward to work with these new powers of mine. I pushed my sleeve up a fraction and saw that it was ten minutes until twelve. Good. I still had almost an hour. I shot a hopeful glance up at Martin and asked, “Did somebody say lunchtime?”

  * * *

  We couldn’t go too far for lunch, since I’d promised Persephone I’d be at her place at one, and it took us almost twenty-five minutes to get back to the car. But we grabbed burgers at the Irish pub off 179, and nothing had ever tasted so good. Or maybe it was just getting something warm inside me after standing out in the cold for hours I didn’t even realize were passing.

  Afterward, Martin drove me to Persephone’s house, and said, Call me this way when you need me to come back.

  I will, I promised, and leaned over and gave him a hearty cheeseburger-flavored kiss. Hopefully, this won’t take long.

  He squeezed my hand, then watched as I opened the car door and got out. After waiting for me to cross the driveway and approach the front door, he slowly pulled away from the curb and turned the car around, heading back down to 179.

  Taking a breath, I leaned over and pushed the doorbell. A wreath of fresh pine boughs, topped with a red ribbon, hung from the door, and a potted poinsettia stood sentinel to either side. Somehow the trappings of the holidays felt jarring, what with everything that was going on.

  Persephone opened the door at once. “Thanks for coming, Kirsten,” she said, and stepped out of the way so I could move past her into the foyer.

  That house was truly a thing of beauty. If I were going to be completely honest about it, I was a little envious of the way Persephone and Paul had gotten settled here so quickly. I’d say it felt like a model home because of the furniture and the way everything always looked just so, but it was too warm and cozy for that. I also liked that Persephone had gone for a sort of Tuscan farmhouse feel instead of the ubiquitous Southwest vibe that seemed to dominate interior decorating in this part of the world.

  She indicated that we should go into the living room, so I followed her lead and sat down on the overstuffed couch. A couple mugs of spiced cider sat on coasters on the coffee table, adding their perfume to the holiday-scented potpourri she had out in several small bowls. All in all, it was a wonderful, welcoming atmosphere.

  So why did I feel a shiver of apprehension run down my spine?

  I asked, as we both sat down on the couch, “How’d it go with the Discovery Channel people?”

  Something tense in Persephone’s face seemed to relax a little.
“Great, really great. It sounds like it’s a go. We won’t get the formal word until after the first of the year, but…” She trailed off, and I could tell she was wondering if they were even going to be around to get good news after this weekend.

  “Everything’s going well,” I told her, hoping she’d be a little more receptive to my work with Martin than Kara had been. “Martin — that is, Agent Jones is really impressed with how I’ve been doing. He’s…hopeful.”

  My words were meant to reassure her, but that tension I’d noticed earlier returned to her mouth and jaw. “Well, about that…”

  Again she hesitated, and then shook her head, her heavy curls sweeping over the dark green wool of the sweater she wore. When I first met her, I’d envied that hair a good bit, since it seemed to have a life of its own, instead of my own pale, straight locks.

  “Look, it’s probably better if we both acknowledge that this is a little weird,” I told her. “But obviously you have something you need to say, so…just say it.”

  She folded her hands over her jeans-clad knees. The big diamond Paul had given her sparkled in the pale wintry sunlight streaming through the windows. “It’s — well, I’ve heard from Otto.”

  “Oh, really?” That surprised me. From what I’d heard Kara say, dear old Otto hadn’t been very available to our resident psychic lately. And now, knowing what I knew about Martin and Otto, I had a feeling his latest contact with Persephone wasn’t exactly a coincidence.

  “He’s…well, he’s concerned.”

  “He should be,” I said. “Considering our reptile buddies are going to attempt the mother of all hostile takeovers this weekend.”

  Her eyes widened a little. “So that’s who they are.”

  “You didn’t know?” That surprised me. I’d sort of figured, being psychic, she had access to all sorts of inside information that the rest of us didn’t.