Goddess of the Sea (5 page)

CC pulled open the door and was greeted by the familiar smell of military clean. Yes, ma'am. You
could
eat off the floors, walls, ceilings and desks . . . literally. Directly in front of her a full-length mirror showed CC her reflection. She automatically read the words printed across the top of the mirror: DOES YOUR APPEARANCE REFLECT YOUR PROFESSIONALISM? CC started to grin sheepishly at her jeans and sweatshirt, then she did a fast double take.

Had her eyes ever looked so big? Entranced, she stepped closer to the mirror's slick surface. Her mother had always described her eyes as “cute” or “doelike.” CC usually didn't give them much thought beyond being glad that she had twenty-twenty vision. But today they seemed to fill her face. Their ordinary hazel color sparkled with—

“May I help you, ma'am?”

The rough voice caused CC to jump guiltily. Her cheeks felt warm as she turned around to face a weathered-looking chief master sergeant.

“Uh, yeah. Can you tell me where I'd go to pick up my dog tags?”

“Sure can.” As soon as she'd started speaking his gruff appearance softened, and he smiled warmly at her. “The office for tags and military IDs is on the third floor. You can take the elevator that's down this hall.” He gestured to the right.

“Thank you, Chief,” CC said and bolted to the elevator, face blazing.

The old chief stood for a moment looking after her.

“Now there's a pretty girl,” he pronounced to the empty air.

The ID office wasn't hard to find—it was the busiest office in the building. CC sighed as she took a number and found a seat along the wall. Orderly rooms were always ultra-busy during the lunch hour. She should have known better. Trying to find an interesting article in an old
Air Force Times
newspaper, she wished she had remembered to bring a book with her.

The room was almost empty and the black hands of the government issue clock told her forty-five minutes had passed when her number was finally called and she retrieved her new set of dog tags. Finally! CC felt like she'd been set free. She punched the Down button on the elevator, and as the door glided open she ticked off her “To Do” list on her fingers.

One: go to the Base Exchange and get a few toiletries. Two: pick up some plant food—her stomach growled. And three: some people food. She'd eaten most of the KFC last night, and anyway she couldn't handle KFC two nights in a row. Or at least she shouldn't.

She had just begun to step forward into the elevator when a woman's commanding voice spoke a single word.

“Wait!”

CC hesitated and turned. The woman standing behind her was breathtakingly lovely.

“What?” CC asked stupidly, stunned by the woman's beauty. She was tall—she seemed to tower over CC's petite five foot one inch frame. And her hair was amazing; CC had never seen anything so beautiful. It was the color of rich earth and it cascaded to the curve of her waist. Her face was regal and her cheekbones were high and well formed. But it was her eyes that captured CC in their liquid blue depths.

“Wait, Daughter.” The woman smiled, and CC felt the warmth of that smile envelop her. She wanted to ask why she should wait, and why the incredibly gorgeous woman would call her daughter, but her mouth didn't seem to want to work. All she could do was to stand there and grin inanely back at the woman like a nervous kindergarten child meeting her teacher.

“WAIT, MA'AM!”

The shout came from the far end of the hall, and she turned her head just in time to see a man dressed in a firefighter's uniform launching himself at her. The tackle carried them several feet from the elevator's open doors. As soon as they slid to a halt the firefighter jumped up.

“Are you okay, ma'am?” He was trying to help her to her feet while he brushed nonexistent dirt off her jeans.

CC couldn't believe it. The wind had been knocked out of her, so all she could do was gasp for air and glare at the man.

“Sorry, ma'am. Didn't mean to be so rough, but I had to stop you from getting in that elevator,” he said.

“W-what,” CC sucked air and wiped her tearing eyes, “are you t-talking about?”

“Well, the elevator, ma'am.” He pointed at the still-open doors.

The doors must be stuck, CC concluded.

“You knocked me over because the doors were sticking?” Thankfully she was regaining her ability to breathe and speak at the same time.

“No, ma'am. Not 'cause the doors are stuck.” As if on cue the doors closed. “Because the elevator is stuck.” He paused, letting CC absorb his words. “On the first floor.”

“That can't be,” CC spoke woodenly. “I just rode it up here.”

The firefighter made a scoffing sound. “Sure, and an hour ago it was working. It just stuck 'bout five minutes ago. We were running an exercise next door for some new recruits when the First Shirt asked us to give him a hand in posting the warning tape and being sure that everyone on this floor knew about the problem.”

For the first time CC noticed that clutched in one hand he had a roll of yellow warning ribbon much like the tape civilian police used to secure crime scenes.

“I don't believe it,” she said.

“Take a look for yourself. Just be careful.” He stepped out of her way.

CC approached the elevator and pressed the down button, just like she had only minutes before. The doors swung smoothly open and CC peered down into a dark shaft of nothingness. She felt dizzy.

“Good thing I saw you. I'd hate to think what would have happened if I'd been a second later.” The firefighter shook his head and pursed his lips.

“But it wasn't you,” CC said shakily. “I
was
getting ready to step into the elevator.” CC looked wildly around the hall, ashamed it had taken her so long to acknowledge the woman. “It was the woman standing behind me. She warned me—that's why I hadn't already walked into the elevator.”

CC felt a wave of nausea. She hadn't been paying attention to her surroundings; she'd been too busy tallying errands.

“Uh, ma'am,” the firefighter said gently. “Are you sure you're feeling okay?”

“Of course. I'm fine.” CC was still looking down the hallway, trying to catch a glimpse of the beautiful woman.

“Maybe you should sit down for a while.”

“What are you talking about?” CC snapped. First the guy tackled her, then he was trying to analyze her. She checked the stripes on his arm. Yep. She even outranked him. “I just want to find the woman who warned me so that I can thank her.”

“That's what I mean, ma'am. There was no one else in the hall with you.”

A chill shivered through CC's body. She shook her head in disbelief. “Yes there was. She was standing right behind me. I was talking to her when you knocked me over.”

“Ma'am,” he took her arm and eased her down the hall away from the open shaft. “You weren't talking to anyone. You were just standing there getting ready to step into the elevator.”

“She was right behind me,” CC repeated.

“No one was there. No one is here now.” His gesture took in the rest of the hall. “There's only one way out besides the elevator, and that's the stairwell, right there.” He pointed at the doorway from which he had emerged. “She would have had to walk past me to get there, and she didn't.”

“You didn't see her?” CC asked numbly.

“No, ma'am,” he said quietly. “And people don't just appear and disappear like magic.”

Magic
. . . The word echoed in CC's head and she had to struggle to pay attention to the rest of what he was saying.

“Maybe you hit your head. You know you could have blacked out for a second. I knocked you down pretty hard. Our guys can take you to sick call at the clinic and have you checked out.”

“No!” CC swallowed, regaining her wits. “See, I'm fine.” She ran her fingers through her close-cropped curls and around her head, pushing and prodding without cringing to show there was no tenderness.

The door to the stairwell opened and another fireman appeared and yelled down the hall. “Hey, Steve! Got that tape run yet?”

“I'm working on it,” CC's fireman answered.

“Well, hurry it up. We don't have all day to play with pretty girls.” He smiled and tipped his helmet to CC.

Steve's face colored, and CC took the opportunity to make her retreat.

“I'll let you get back to work.” She headed quickly for the door, which the second fireman held wide open for her. “And I do appreciate you saving me from a nasty fall.”

She ducked into the stairwell and Steve's “Don't mention it, ma'am” drifted after her, but CC hardly heard him. She was too busy repeating a single sentence that she could see clearly in her memory. It was written in her concise cursive on blue ink against plain white paper.

I want magic in my life
.

CHAPTER FOUR

CC drove quickly to the Base Exchange, glad it was situated between the Personnel Building and the base's north exit. She could run in, grab what she needed and get right out—and then she could hurry back to her apartment. She needed to be alone to sit and think about what had just happened.

She hadn't imagined the woman; she was certain of that. But that was all she was certain of.

She pulled into the crowded Base Exchange parking lot, and as she drove by the main entrance she noticed an empty parking spot—the closest spot to the front doors that wasn't reserved for high-ranking officers. CC parked with a growing sense of wonder.

“I am having some seriously good parking luck today,” she murmured.

The Base Exchange, known by military personnel as the BX, reminded CC of a weird cross between an upscale department store and a flea market. Tinker's BX was no exception. Just inside the front doors, but before she entered the body of the Exchange itself, was scattered booth after booth of sales people hawking everything from deli sandwiches to “designer” handbags and jewelry. CC hurried past the colorful area and impatiently let the BX worker check her ID. She almost sprinted to the section of the store that sold toiletries and haphazardly chose the necessary travel items. Then she had to stop herself from screaming with impatience as the cashier seemed to take forever to ring up her purchases.

Rushing back out the door, the scent of food and the insistent growling in her stomach made her pause. Why not get something for dinner right there? That meant she wouldn't have to stop again on the way home. She followed her nose down the row of kiosks until she located the deli sandwich stand and ordered a hot Italian sub.

While she was waiting for her order to be filled, the back of her neck began to itch. Like someone was staring a hole into it. Brow wrinkled in irritation, CC turned to find the woman at the jewelry stand directly across from the sandwich booth smiling graciously at her. She was wearing a flowing dress made of sapphire velvet. She raised a well-manicured, bejeweled hand and gestured for CC to join her.

“Come!” she said.

CC opened her mouth to decline the odd invitation, but the woman spoke again.

“No. Do not think. Just come.” Her thick accent rolled the words.

“That'll be five dollars,” the sandwich man said.

CC paid him, and then she did something unusual, something outside her mold. Without thinking, she let her feet carry her across the aisle to the jewelry stand.

“Ah,” the woman said, taking CC's right hand in both of hers and turning it over so she could study her palm. “I knew it. She has touched you.”

“She?” CC asked.

“The Great Mother.” The woman didn't look up from CC's palm, but kept speaking matter-of-factly in her richly accented voice. “Yes, I saw it in your aura, and I see it clearly here. You are beloved by her.”

“How—” CC started to ask, but the woman wasn't finished.

“But your journey will be long and arduous.” She squinted at CC's palm like she saw something disturbing there.

“Well, I am leaving for a ninety-day TDY to Saudi Arabia tomorrow,” CC said.

The woman's gaze lifted from CC's palm.

“No, little daughter, I do not mean a journey of distance. I mean a journey of spirit.” CC was struck by a sense of familiarity as their eyes met. Then the woman abruptly dropped her hand and turned.

“Where is it?” The woman muttered to herself as she searched through a nest of hanging necklaces. “Ah, here you are.” Triumphantly she held the necklace out to CC.

It was lovely. The silver chain was long and delicate, and suspended from it by a latticework of silver ivy was a glistening cinnamon-colored stone. It was about the size of CC's thumb and shaped like a perfect teardrop.

“Amber,” the woman said. “It was formed by resin fossilized in the bosom of the earth.”

“I've never had any amber,” CC said. “But I've always thought it beautiful.”

“This piece is the same color as your eyes.” The woman smiled.

CC thought she was doing one heck of a sales job. “How much is it?” CC asked, returning the exotic woman's smile.

“This necklace is not for sale.”

CC frowned. Was the woman trying to get her to look at a more expensive piece?

“This necklace is a gift.” In one motion the woman placed it over CC's head.

“But, I can't accept this!” CC sputtered.

“You must. It is meant to be yours,” she said simply. “And I sense that there has been a recent event for which a gift is appropriate. No?”

“Well, it was my birthday yesterday,” CC admitted.