Ben chuckled. “I just showed him what he didn’t know to look for.” He picked up his water bottle and downed the last sip. “Adrian, would you please get me another bottle of water? All this talking’s making my mouth dry, and my doctor wants me to stay hydrated. There’s a soda machine out in the hallway.”
“I don’t like the idea of leaving you alone.”
“You’ll only be gone a minute.”
“A minute is all it takes for someone to grab you.”
“I’m not taking this lightly, my friend, but we can’t both go over there together with all my work on display. Please, would you just get me another bottle of water? Or maybe get a couple so we don’t have to do this again.”
“I still don’t like it.”
“Look at all these people.” Ben indicated the crowd. “Certainly one of them will sound the alarm if they see me in trouble.”
“Unless they don’t notice you’re in trouble.” Like if a Whisperer tells them they don’t see anything.
“Adrian, in the time we’ve been arguing, you could have gone to the hallway and come back again.”
“Fine. I’ll go get water. I will be back in two minutes.”
“Thank you.”
Scowling, Adrian headed for the exit.
* * *
Azotay watched the Warrior walk away. What a fool to leave his charge here, unguarded. Anyone could infiltrate the crowd and take the old man by surprise before the bystanders even noticed anything was wrong. Had Azotay been assigned as Wakete’s security detail, such a breach would never occur.
Luckily for them, he had no intention of taking the old man here. Should the carver go missing in the middle of the show, it would attract attention. Should one of his team bungle the grab—entirely possible with the band of misfits he had to work with—then that would also attract attention. No, Azotay had a plan for capturing Ben Wakete, but that was for a different time.
Today was all about finding out more about the Warrior who guarded his prey.
Azotay wandered closer to Ben’s table, stopping here and there to admire this trinket and that.
The Warrior returned and handed a bottle of water to the old man.
“Thank you, Adrian,” the carver said.
Adrian? Not the name he’d expected.
Azotay wandered closer. He had to time it just right in order to get what he needed.
“As you can see,” the old man said, twisting open his water, “I am still here.”
“Pure luck.” The Warrior’s voice sounded somewhat familiar.
“You are a cynic, Adrian Gray,” said the carver. “You always see the worst in people.”
“That’s my job, Ben.”
Azotay slid closer and bumped into a woman who’d stopped in the middle of the traffic flow to rummage through her purse. She squealed. Toppled.
Adrian swept forward and caught her before she hit the floor. He remained bent over, assisting her in finding her footing. Which was exactly what Azotay needed. He veered closer to the couple, just another passerby checking out the commotion.
He saw it.
His breath caught, his heart skipping to double time. Could it be? Could it really be after all this time?
Adrian stood and glanced around. Azotay timed it that when Adrian’s gaze slid over him, Azotay turned at that moment to look at another display. But not before he’d gotten a good look at the face of the man who called himself Adrian Gray.
Dark brown eyes of a Warrior. Black hair. Olive skin tone. Nothing unusual there. Even the tiny mole behind his left ear could have been dismissed. But the scar—the small, hook-shaped scar that cut across the bottom of one eyebrow and curved along the edge of his eye, faded now but still visible up close. The hair would never grow over that pale line again. No one would even notice it if they weren’t looking for it. But with that and his fighting technique, and the distinctive kick that had felled his opponent … Add all that together, and the truth could not be denied.
After more than twenty years, he’d finally found Atlas.
CHAPTER TEN
As soon as they entered the cabana, Darius went to the storage cabinet, pulled a set of keys from his pocket, and unlocked it. He slid the familiar wooden box off a shelf and set it on the small table.
“The stone is still here?” Faith asked. “I thought you would have had it under armed guard.”
Darius shrugged. “Since we’re going to be working with it all the time, I moved it down here.”
“I just thought you’d have it in a safe or something. I mean, this is the Stone of Igarle, a stone of incredible power. Everybody’s after it.”
“Normally we keep it in a vault, but I think it’s fine to leave it here while you’re working with it. Besides, with the security in this house, no one could get past the gates to make it this far, even if they knew it was here.”
“I’m surprised your family lets you get away with that.”
“They trust me.” He smiled. “And I trust you.”
A simple statement, yet warmth flooded her body. She glanced down at the box, more to compose herself than anything. “Your sister might disagree.”
“Don’t worry about her. My family put me in charge of this project, and besides, I’m the oldest. Baby sister has to do what I say.”
She glanced at his face. The mischievous glint in his eye and the way his lips curved in that little-boy-with-his-hand-in-the-cookie-jar way made her insides go all squishy. They had work to do with this stone, and it was no time for melting glances, but she couldn’t deny the lift in her confidence at his support in the face of his family’s suspicion.
She stood on tiptoe, cupped his face, and kissed him.
His cane hit the carpeted floor with a muffled thump, and he grabbed her hips, tugging her closer. Her brain shut down, her body flaring to life at his touch. What started as a gesture of gratitude quickly exploded into something more. He took over the kiss with a mastery that made her shiver all the way to her toes. He knew what he wanted, and he wasn’t afraid to demand it. Yet she knew she was safe with him. Knew she could trust him. Knew that if they dropped to the floor right now and made love, that it would be more than just mindless sex.
She could fall in love with this man. Maybe was already halfway there.
She broke the kiss. His quickened breaths swept her damp lips, his eyes burning like blue fire. His arousal pressed against her, but he had control over his body. And patience. He was waiting for her, letting her set the pace. And she tumbled the rest of the way into love with him.
She laid her hands flat against his chest, putting inches between them. “The stone.”
“Yeah.” He closed his eyes and leaned forward so their foreheads touched. “Like I said, a hell of a chaperone.”
His heartbeat thudded beneath her palm, strong and vital. She curled her fingers as if she could capture it. “The sooner I get the stone stabilized, the better.”
He opened his eyes, and that intense blue gaze sent a ripple straight to her core. “Guess we’d better get to work then.”
He stepped back and slowly bent to retrieve his cane. Tilted forward
“I’ve got it.” She steadied him with one hand on his shoulder and crouched. She looked him in the eye as she straightened, handing him the cane. “Just for the record, this has nothing to do with pity and everything to do with the fact that if you go down, you’re too darn big for me to pick up.”
The frown that creased his brow smoothed away, and his mouth quirked in a grin. “Is that so?”
“Of course it’s so. Look at you. You’re this big muscular guy, and I’m this skinny girl. No way I’d be able to get you up, not without a crane or something.”
He laughed. “I suppose you’re right.”
“Glad you realize that.” She propped her hands on her hips. “And while you’re feeling so agreeable, there’s something else I want to say.” She leaned in. “Just because people feel badly that you got hurt does not mean they thi
nk any less of you, or find you lacking.”
He shrugged, his expression closing. “Some do.”
“Then they’re idiots.” She rolled her eyes. “I saw you kick some Mendukati ass, cane and all. You’re a scary dude. And that’s all I’m going to say.”
That startled another laugh from him. “Okay.”
“Now we have to clear room for a circle over here.” She gestured toward the area where he’d clearly worked his healing rituals a couple of days ago. “Do you want to take the chair or that wooden chest?”
“I can take the chest. You grab the chair.”
“And slowpoke gets the candles.”
He raised his brows. “Oh, is it a race?”
She grinned. “Do you want it to be?”
“Scared I’ll win?”
She hooted. “You’re on, Montana. Loser has to clean up the candles.”
“Deal.”
They moved into position. She grabbed the back of the chair with both hands, and he bent to grasp the handle on the side of the chest. “Ready, set … go!” he said.
She tugged the large, armless chair backward across the carpet. The piece was clearly well made and matched the couches elsewhere in the room. And was heavier than it looked.
He tilted the wooden chest up on its edge, pushed a button with his thumb, and began to drag the thing across the carpet. Its wheels left grooves in its wake. Wait … wheels?
Having only moved about a foot, she dropped the chair back on its legs with a thump and propped her hands on her hips. “Hey, that’s cheating! You didn’t tell me that thing had wheels.”
“You didn’t ask.” From the far side of the room, he grinned. “But just to show you what a good sport I am, let me help you with that.” He walked over and gripped the chair just under the seat. “You lift your side, and I’ll lift from the bottom. One … two … three!”
She lifted the chair with her hands on either side of its back, and he hefted one-handed from the bottom. She stepped back several steps, the chair much lighter with his help. They set it down at the edge of the room. “No wonder you took the chest. I thought you were crazy.”
He shrugged and tapped his bad leg. “Since this thing, I’ve had to make tasks easier so I can manage them by myself. I’m strong enough to drag that chair, but not to lift the chest, which would normally take two hands and balance. Not to mention the box is full of stones. So I got one with wheels, like luggage.”
She chuckled. “Why you think anyone would pity you, Darius Montana, is beyond me.” The arrested look that crossed his face made her want to hold him, but they had work to do. “I lost the race, so let me move those candles, and I can set up my safety circle.”
“How ’bout we both grab the candles?”
“No, no.” She held up her hands. “Not only did you win our little race, but you had to come back and help me with my part. The least I can do is collect some candles.” She pointed at the chair. “You can sit over there and lord it over me while I toil.”
“Toil, huh?” But he sat.
She started gathering the candles.
* * *
Darius leaned back in the chair and admired the view of Faith’s butt as she bent down to gather the candles. The past few minutes had been one surprise after another, not the least of which was Faith dragging his demons about pity into the bright morning sunlight.
And that kiss.
He didn’t know which threw him more, the fact that she’d made the first move this time, or her declaration that his injuries didn’t lessen him as a man in her eyes. He wanted to believe her words, and her freely offered kiss—not to mention her enthusiasm to his response to that kiss—seemed to back up what she was saying. But he still couldn’t connect to her empathically.
How had she blocked herself from his empathy? Was the stone guiding her actions? Had it not retreated after all?
Finished with the candles, Faith fetched the box Ben had sent her and brought it to the space they’d cleared. “I need to sit on the floor and make a circle. But first I need to make sure I can connect here.” Setting down Ben’s box on the carpet, she slid off her sandals and sat cross-legged in the middle of the space. Then she removed her silver ring, placing it on top of the box.
And his empathic senses exploded with the essence that was Faith.
Happy. Secure. Determined and focused. A bright citrusy tang on the tongue tempered by the warm, cinnamon-like notes of arousal. He glanced at the ring. Wondered.
She leaned forward, laying her palms flat against the floor, and closed her eyes. A quiet hum erupted from her throat. The same echoed in his mind. Then she nodded and glanced up at Darius. “The closer I am to the earth, the better. I’m going to set the circle to give me a buffer, but not enough to block the stone completely. That thing has been acting like a spoiled kid. As soon as I can clear some of that negative emotion, I should be better able to talk to it. But I’m going to need your help.”
“Whatever you need. Except sitting on the floor.”
“No, you can stay in the chair. I’m the only one who needs to be close to the Earth. The last couple of times the stone trapped me, you were the one who led me out. I need you on standby to do that again. If something happens where I am not responsive, and even you can’t find me, put this ring on me.” She picked up the ring and held it out to him.
He got to his feet and took the ring from her. “What does it do?”
“Offers me a layer of protection. It’s never failed me yet.”
That she was trusting him with this knowledge set her on edge. He could taste it, like Texas chili searing his tongue. But like cool sour cream, her faith in him tempered the worry and soothed the assertive fear. “Okay.”
“Once I’m set up here, I’ll need you to bring me the stone.”
“You got it.”
“You might as well have a seat. This is going to take a little while.” She reached into Ben’s box and pulled out the packets of crystals. Opening the plastic pouches, she set out the various stones in a wide ring around her.
Setting her ring on the table beside him, Darius sat back in the chair and prepared to follow her into the chaos of the stone.
* * *
Connected to the Earth’s energy, Faith tuned the stones surrounding her so they formed a filter of sorts. She’d been thinking about this since the incident last night. Since the Stone of Igarle was a stone of incredible power, she would need a matching source of power to help her clear the negative energy from the crystal. The only thing even close was the vortex energy all around her.
Since she’d first connected to it the other day, she’d sensed the vortexes humming constantly in the background of her mind. In the hands of a normal Channeler, the energy would be unstable. But under the direction of an elemental Earth Channeler like herself—a Stone Singer—she should be able to funnel enough energy in a controlled stream to help clear the Stone of Igarle.
If her plan didn’t work and she got sucked into the stone again, she had Darius as a backup. And in the event he was compromised like last night, she had Ben’s ring, designed to block her from any Atlantean power, corrupt or otherwise. If she could wear the ring to work stone energy she would, but in addition to blocking her from other Atlanteans, it also stopped her from using her abilities, as if she were sealed up in a plastic bubble. No power in, none out.
As she wore the ring this morning, the short walk from her room to the cabana had seemed eerily silent without the familiar murmur of the ancient rock around her and the constant hum of the vortex energy.
The gems around her vibrated on their own frequencies that only she could hear. Her tattoos flared, the minerals in the ink joining the choir. She reached deep into the Earth and anchored herself, Earth song surging up through her roots and erupting from her throat to blend with the other harmonies. She wove protections for herself in case the Stone of Igarle tried again to suck her into its dark places. Opening her eyes, she continued to sing but sent Darius a
mental message.
Bring me the stone.
He got up and removed the stone from its box. He crossed the room to her, and by the time he’d reached her, the bloodred pyramid had turned completely clear. He handed her the stone.
She gripped the pyramid between two hands.
Seer, it whispered, before tendrils of crimson swirled into it, like blood dripped into clear water.
He is a Seer. I am the Stone Singer, she sent.
Singer. Once again, it tried to connect with her mind, but with the vortex energy behind her, she was able to hold it back.
Shadows consume you, she said. I can help.
Ja-Red, the stone whispered. The name of the Stone Singer from Atlantis.
Ja-Red is no more, she said. I am Faith. I can help you.
So much to say, no one to listen.
I am listening, but first I must clear the path.
So much to say!
You can say it to me … after the path is cleared.
She waited what felt like a very long time before the stone answered her. Very well.
Clearing the negative energy was like trying to bathe a squirming dog with one hand while attempting to scrub an oven with the other. She sang the shadows away, scraped at the black despair and negativity that coated everything, illuminated the dark corners with light. The stone shied away from her sometimes, like a small, muddy child who did not want to wash, but she forced it to her will.
It seemed like forever, but finally she had removed a couple of layers of negative emotion, enough that the tarlike muck had faded to half of its previous volume.
Ja-red, the stone lamented.
Tell me about Ja-Red. Tell me about the last day of Atlantis.
Images slammed into her mind. She became Ja-Red.
* * *
He rose from the bed of his mate, awakened by the shaking of the Earth and the cries of the frightened. Leaving his beloved Kindin wrapped in the bedclothes that even now smelled of their loving, he grabbed his garments from the floor and hurried out of his dwelling to the street.
Agrilara, he mind-spoke, what’s happening?
To the temple! Even her mind-voice sounded frantic. Selak is trying to perform the Sortu-Ka!
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