Wood, Fire, & Gold

by Jackson, Pam

  The night sky was lit with a bright moon, and gray shadows from tree branches danced on the patches of snow that surrounded her as she sat on the stacked pile of firewood. Although the distinct, crisp smell of spring was in the night air, reviving all of her exhausted senses, there was still a cold breeze blowing through the leafless trees, reminding Andie of her unknown fate. Spring was confused, and so was she about her next steps.

  This was far from over, but Andie had no idea where to go next with the Atros Fallis. All of her reliable contacts were most likely being monitored by Tivoli or—God help them—dead. She lacked confidence in the FBI to secure such a valuable item as the Atros Fallis. Clay was the only one she could trust. They’d both come way too far to just hand it over to a bunch of brutish FBI agents. Paul Krause was most likely an outstanding agent and a damn good friend to Clay, but he would only see the Atros Fallis as evidence and not as a powerful weapon.

  Chapter 29

  Paul Krause smirked at Clay. He’d been needling him for the last five minutes about the look of lust in Clay’s eyes every time Andie ran her hands through her hair. “C’mon, I know you, brother. You’ve either had her already or you want her as badly as a rodeo clown wants a weekend off.”

  “Paul, I’m a professional. She’s scared and alone. Besides, she saved my ass like no other asset could’ve or would’ve.” Clay looked out of the helicopter’s bulbous front window, eyeing Andie’s shadow as she sat on the pile of firewood at the back of the cabin. He shifted his weight in the narrow jump seat to maintain a clear visual on Andie.

  “Holy shit! I don’t believe it. You’re in love with her!” Paul cracked a salty grin and pulled his hand across his face. “Clay, you know the golden rule about the asset, right? I know how difficult it was for you when Aksana ...”

  “Paul, don’t fucking go there!” Clay cut Paul off and then shook his head, disgusted with himself because he couldn’t keep his dick out of the equation.

  “Hey, I’m just sayin’, partner, be careful. Think with the big head. If the AG gets wind of you and her having relations, this whole case is shot to shit. Just use discretion.” Paul cleared his throat and shot Clay a friendly smile. “Hey, I’m happy for you, man. Truly. Just don’t lose your edge ... not just yet.”

  Clay turned to see his friend’s face grow solemn. “What is it? What’s going on with the case? When are you picking up Tivoli?”

  “Yeah, well, that’s the problem. We don’t have him yet. But we’ll find him.” Paul shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose as if warding off a nosebleed or a monster migraine.

  “What?! Really, man? That’s the best you can give me? ‘We’ll find him’? Are you fucking kidding me? Paul, you have no idea what this woman has been through!” Clay was furious, and he tried not to blast Paul at the top of his lungs, fearing that Andie would overhear his shouts.

  “Listen, I understand you’re pissed off.” Paul held his hands up, trying to placate Clay. “Hell, Clay, I’m pissed, too! But these things happen. We think there might be a snitch. Nothin’ tactical, just a low-level paper pusher with enough clearance to obtain intelligence and pass it on to Tivoli. When we went to serve the warrant today, he was gone. Poof! Not a damn trace of him. We only found his whiny servant, or whatever ya’ll high-falutin’ New Yorkers call them. And as for Tivoli, just think of him as misplaced for now. We know he’ll return. He has a meeting with Vincente Ospina in two days, and if Tivoli isn’t there, I’m pretty sure Ospina will have that sonofabitch’s balls in a jar over his mantle. We’ll pick him up then. No worries, man.”

  Clay stroked his chin and the soft stubble that was filling in nicely around his squared jawline. He knew Tivoli needed the Atros Fallis if he was going to walk away from that meeting alive. The bureau had no idea of the book’s relevance, nor would they believe the crazy legend Andie had told him about pairing it with the other book, Abraham the Jew, to spin gold like King Midas. Hell, he barely believed it, despite the fact that he was walking around with the same symbol tattooed on his back that was etched into those two books. And now with a snitch lurking around, he wasn’t trusting anyone. He would handle this by his own means. Dark justice, the Brandon Clayton way.

  Clay gave Paul an agreeable nod and promised that he would bring Andie into FBI protective custody the next morning. He somehow convinced Paul that it was safer for Andie to spend the night at his mountain house rather than in a cheap motel with two shivering agents positioned outside her door. But he figured Paul knew the truth: Clay wanted Andie to himself before the feds had her for the long haul of questioning and sequestration. He owed Paul, big time.

  Chapter 30

  “So where’s the book, Andie? Did you think I wouldn’t notice your sticky fingers act in there? I might’ve had a good crack to my skull, but I’m still sharp.” Clay glared at Andie, towering over her as she sat on the woodpile. He crossed his arms over his broad chest, and she was astonished that he wasn’t shivering, wearing nothing but his T-shirt and cotton pants.

  “I’m not going to deny I took it.” She wanted to, but she needed him to finish this labor of insanity with her. Lying to him would be tragic, especially with everything they’d shared over the past few days. “And I’m not handing it over to the FBI; the Atros Fallis stays with me. You can arrest me if you’d like, but I will not testify for your case—not until I see the evidence that you have on Tivoli and Ospina to put them away forever. I’ve seen Tivoli get to people who were supposed to be protected by the law. He’s a master, and I don’t have the confidence in the FBI to protect me or the Atros Fallis.” But she did have confidence in Clay—that’s why she prayed he would see this through to the end.

  She watched him smirk with playful confidence as he took a seat next to her on the woodpile. She felt the warmth radiate from his body as he pulled her close with a bulging bicep and placed his lips against the cool skin of her ear. “Andie, you are mine,” he murmured, “and I meant it when I said no one will ever lay a hand on you again. Keep the book. We’re gonna need it ... for bait.” His whisper was divine, and his confident words rekindled the fire that would always burn in her for his magnetic touch. She turned to face him, her lips close to his. “Why do you need it for bait, Clay?”

  “Because, Andie, I’m going to kill Tivoli,” he rasped against her lips. He kissed her as tenderly as he could, trying not to punish her split lip. His mouth pulled and pushed against her yielding lips. His warm tongue prodded hers, reminding her of how he had entered her sweet sex just several hours before in the confines of Claudius’s cave. She released a low moan of pleasure from deep within, and she felt his cool palm skim over her throat until he reached the curve of her silky jawline. His other hand cradled her head as his kiss became more fervent. He was firm on her lips, his urgency rising.

  “Baby, we need to leave here and head back to my place or else we’ll be putting on a show for these punk FBI agents. I can’t bear to share the sight of you naked with anyone else,” he said, dragging his lips down the curve of her neck.

  Her mind was jelly from his powerful kiss and from his words, but she gathered her thoughts. “Wait, what did you mean when you said you were going to kill Tivoli? Clay, does the FBI have him in custody or not?”

  His seductive kisses stopped, and he pulled back to meet her demanding gaze.

  Boom! And there it was. Tivoli wasn’t in custody, and she realized why Clay was being easy on her about taking the Atros Fallis from the cabin. He knew that she wasn’t safe, and as long as they had the book, Tivoli would madly pursue her until he had the Atros Fallis and his revenge. Tivoli had nothing to lose.

  “We do not have him in custody. He will not hurt you, Andie. I swear that on my life. This ends now, and it ends my way.” His fists were clenched and his expression grave.

  There was nothing more she could do about it; her life was in Clay’s hands. They were bonded by the past, brought together by the Atros Fallis. Her fears drifted away because of the trust she had i
n him. She knew he was going to kill Giovanni Tivoli.

  Clay pulled her gently from the woodpile, and they began to walk to the back end of the helicopter, where a cargo door was open with a small ramp leading to a cramped cargo bay.

  She’d seen all types of helicopters from her days of living on military bases, but this was a smaller, custom transport craft, and she could see the outline of a quad all-terrain vehicle pushed against the back of the helicopter jump seats.

  Clay held up his palm, signaling for Andie to stay put as he ducked into the cargo area. He maneuvered around several tackle boxes labeled FORENSICS KIT that were stacked and secured in a rack. He grabbed a navy polyester jacket with the letters FBI printed on the back from one of the jump seats, and then he edged to the side of the compartment where the ATV was sitting. He silently unfastened the nylon straps that were anchoring it down and backed the vehicle out. The engine started with a wild roar that sent a full nest of birds fleeing from a tree.

  “Get on, sweet angel,” he said as he shrugged into the jacket and left it unzipped. “And I promise it won’t be a crazy ride like last time. Hurry, baby, before Paul figures out that we just stole government property.”

  “Which one? The Atros Fallis or the quad?” She managed a playful tone to break the tension of the situation and then mounted the vehicle snugly behind his body, wrapping her arms around his waist. She placed her hands under his jacket for warmth, and also to feel Clay’s taut abdominal muscles through his fitted T-shirt.

  “Both,” he said, and turned to face her. His sexy smile became a soft laugh. “And if your fingers move any lower, we might not make it home, darlin’.”

  He pushed the throttle and they maneuvered past the cabin’s back entrance and onto an open trail that led them into a deeply wooded dale toward Clay’s house.

  # # #

  The cool breeze became a sudden hard gale, and the stranger’s fur-lined hood blew from his head to rest at the back of his neck. He grabbed and pulled at the soft, dark fur mantle of his winter coat to cloak his pale face, illuminated by moonlit patches of snow. This was not the place to expose his identity. The FBI agents were still rummaging through the cabin and taking pictures of footprints and samples of DNA around the perimeter.

  It was his sworn duty to the Jesuit Brotherhood to follow the Atros Fallis and to make sure it was secure until the timing was right to retrieve it. As he watched from behind a wide maple tree several meters past the cabin’s clearing, he was grateful the blonde antiquarian and her military friend possessed the book. The FBI was not to be trusted. The brotherhood’s intelligence had recognized that Giovanni Tivoli had a paid informant inside the government who was feeding him information on the ongoing investigation—and surely by now, Tivoli had been tipped off about the raid here at the cabin, as well as about his imminent arrest.

  It was best for the stranger to keep his position secret and radio Father Thomas of this new information. Three agents from the brotherhood were monitoring the triangular area of the cabin, Claudius Smith’s cave, and the mountain house of the agent who was escorting Andrea Brown. The brotherhood had had its eyes on her for some time, and when they had discovered through their covert network that an antiquarian working for an illicit antiquities dealer was inquiring about the location of the Claudius Smith den, they had immediately begun their surveillance.

  Although there were only three Jesuit priests tracking Andrea Brown’s every move on this mountain, they were all trained in military survival and combat skills—and they were just as deadly as any special ops soldier. The Vatican considered the Jesuits to be the “Soldiers of God,” and this exclusive sect of priests had been given the privilege of protecting the Atros Fallis and all of its divine properties for more than four hundred years. If their covert operation were to be discovered, the special order of the Brotherhood of the Divine Properties would no longer be acknowledged by the Pope. In fact, the last time the Atros Fallis had surfaced among nonpious men, the Jesuits had been exiled by the Vatican on the pretense that their knowledge of science and their intellectual research went against church dogma. The Brotherhood of Divine Properties had kept their sect hidden for the last two and a half centuries, protecting it from exposure to the corruption of church and state. To this day, its existence was unknown to top-tier Jesuit cardinals. His holiness, the Pope, knew of the existence of the order but not the nature of their operations. Only the descendants of the first generations of Jesuits involved in the brotherhood could be given the commission of protecting the Atros Fallis—and they all bore the mark of the wolf and peacock ouroboros between their right thumb and forefinger.

  Chapter 31

  Clay’s fingertips trembled slightly as he traced them over the tarnished copper of the Atros Fallis. He stared with amazement at the fine detail of the wolf and peacock ouroboros and wondered how in the hell he’d been able to convey those exact details to the tattoo artist who had drawn it onto his back several years ago. As his fingers glided along the raised metal edges of the serpent, he swore he could feel a slight electrical charge gently penetrating his skin and surging through his battered and tired body. He would never admit to Andie that he was exhausted and shaken by this op, and he knew his fatigue was more emotional than physical. Almost losing her to Eberstark had been as painful as any battle wound he’d ever received, and he wasn’t sure how he was going to keep her safe from Tivoli and his many slimy tentacles that reached around the law.

  His thoughts were interrupted as he heard the shower turn on in the upstairs bathroom. He was pleased that Andie would soon be enjoying the hot water of his newly renovated shower. She’d been through so much, especially today, and he was concerned that she would break down if she didn’t take some time for herself to come to terms with it all.

  He quickly checked the locks on all the doors and windows and returned to the kitchen, where he’d left the Atros Fallis on the counter. He was prepared to make hourly perimeter checks so Andie would be at ease.

  He found himself staring at the ancient book sitting on the counter. His gaze lingered on the turquoise hue of the cover plate and the raised appearance of the ouroboros. Time had crusted the soft copper in a hard, green veneer, making the symbol more distinctive. His curiosity was getting the best of him, and he began turning through the copper plates of the book. There were images and symbols he’d never seen before, definitely not a language he knew or had ever come across in his travels. He remembered Andie telling him it was written in an ancient language known as Phrygian, once spoken in ancient Turkey.

  Again, with a light touch, he traced the swollen ridges of the symbols, but this time he was positive he felt the tingling of an electric charge through his skin and through his body. It wasn’t painful or threatening; it was more like a warm blanket pulled over cold limbs, and now he began to feel emotion from the charge, a state of euphoria that refreshed his dulled senses.

  With every turn of a copper plate, he felt stronger and more in tune with his body. His pulse ticked faster, and the blood drummed in his ear with a blurred staccato rhythm. He was not out of breath—in fact, his breathing was shallow and relaxed. His muscles flexed, and the heat of adrenaline circulated through his limbs, leaving him with a rigid pressure at the small of his back and the base of his dick that only could be soothed through sexual release.

  Raw emotion flooded his mind, and he felt a sharpness that could only be compared to training like hell for a mission that finally came together flawlessly. But that tension needed an outlet—something to burn off the jagged edges of impatience, intensity and passion. He loved feeling this way—alive with the thrill of his own command—and that was probably why he always volunteered for the deadliest missions. He needed adrenaline like a junkie hooked on a designer drug.

  The pressure was compounding along the length of his tight back muscles, and his engorged cock ached for hard fucking. His means of release was upstairs, naked in his shower. You’re mine, baby, all mine.

  He st
epped away from the counter and peeled off his T-shirt. He stripped off his shoes and pants. He was burning with desire, and Andie was all he wanted and needed. Having her the way he wanted was the only way to tranquilize the beast that cried out for freedom inside him.

  He knew she wouldn’t protest. In fact, he could read her thoughts as she showered above him in the master bath. He could see her hands gliding with silky soap over pink, drawn nipples and down the soft curve of her hips, her wet fingers moving to the perfectly waxed, pale skin that led to her slick, warm cleft—all while thinking of him.

  She needed him, too. He could hear her internally calling his name as she touched every sensual area on her body. They were of one mind, one soul—and the Atros Fallis had everything to do with it.

  Instead of collecting himself and figuring out why this strange book stirred these raw and powerful feelings deep inside of him, he moved steadily up the stairs and into the bedroom. His selfish sexual appetite needed to be fed.

  He was dripping with perspiration as he stalked into the travertine tiled bathroom with an air of conceit. With a slow, forward stride he stepped to the steamy shower door and entered the wide stall. He caught Andie off guard. Without a word, he met her lips and kissed her under the flowing warm water. His mouth worked hers, thrusting and pulling as he plunged his tongue against hers and then playfully teased the seam of her lips. She returned the kiss with the same passion.

  She moaned against his mouth and spoke in between kisses, “I thought you’d never join me. I’ve been waiting for you—I’ve been waiting for you for all these many, many years. I’ve been waiting to love you.”