Guardians of Stone (The Relic Seekers) (36 page)

“I don’t know,” Jake said. “I don’t believe in vampires or werewolves. I’m hoping he’s a mad scientist working on a secret potion for superhuman strength.”

“I’d rather he was a vampire.”

“Creatures with fangs...No thanks.” He looked at her and raised an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you seriously believe in that stuff?”

“My mind is open. I’ve seen things I can’t explain, not counting my own abilities and the odd ghost here or there.”

“One ghost was enough, as far as I’m concerned. Guess I’d better go. I don’t want to keep the fish waiting. If you change your mind—about anything—call me.” He walked to the door and turned back to her. “How do you feel about friends with benefits?”

She picked up her pillow and threw it at him. He caught it and threw it back. With a wicked grin, he disappeared out the door.

Kendall flopped back on the bed with a sigh.

“I
T’S YOUR OWN
fault for pissing him off,” Kendall said as they waited to go through security. It seemed every tourist in Italy had decided to leave at the same time. Behind them, a child cried nonstop, not improving Jake’s lousy mood.

“And you think he’s happy with you? I don’t see you on that private jet.”

“We both know I’m just here as babysitter,” she said. Which was a pain. She hadn’t flown commercial since she’d started working for Nathan. She hadn’t realized until now how spoiled she had become. “I guess it can’t get any worse.”

It could. Both of them were pulled aside and searched. Jake’s pack was given intense attention.

“I’d bet my last dollar he told airline security to do it,” Jake grumbled, stuffing his arms into his jacket so hard he ripped a sleeve.

“Nathan wouldn’t do that,” Kendall said. But he had been pissed. She’d seen a whole new side of Nathan in the past week. “You shouldn’t have driven the Lamborghini without asking.”

“You two were off on a damned date. What did he care?”

“It wasn’t a date and you know it. We were at the museum. I work for him, remember?”

“Looked like a date to me, the way you were dressed.”

“What’s wrong with the way I was dressed?”

“Nothing, if you’re a call girl.”

“Jackass. You’re in a bad mood because you know it was wrong to go for a joyride in his favorite car.”

“So I borrowed a car. It’s not my fault a goat ate part of the upholstery.”

They finally boarded the plane and shoved their duffel bags into the overhead compartment as the child continued to wail.

Jake settled his large frame into the cramped space. He glared at Kendall then closed his eyes.

“I told you we’d find another flight,” a loud voice said.

“It’s your fault we missed ours,” replied a quieter, irritated voice.

“I can’t help it that I got diarrhea when it was time to board.”

Jake’s eyes flew open. “Hell no.”

“Kara! Jason! Look, Gilbert. It’s our honeymooners. And our seats are right across the aisle. Can you believe our luck? What did I tell you? Things always work out for the best.”

Nathan leaned against the sink in the bathroom of his private jet. He stared at himself in the mirror, watching as the amber faded from his eyes. The pain in his stomach was easing. This time it had hit him for no reason. He splashed water on his face and dried it with a monogrammed towel.

There was a tap on the door. “Are you all right?”

Nathan opened the bathroom door and walked out. Fergus watched him, frowning.

“You’ve had another episode, haven’t you? They’re coming closer together now. You must see a doctor.”

“What kind of doctor, Fergus? A witch doctor? A voodoo priestess? Someone from Area Fifty-One? I don’t know what the bloody hell is wrong with me.”

Fergus tilted his head, making the line of his nose almost parallel with the floor. A testament to his strict upbringing. “I would start with your regular physician, sir.” He poured Nathan a glass of wine.

Sir?
Fergus wasn’t happy. What now? “What’s the latest on Marco?” Nathan asked.

“He’s still in a coma.” Fergus paused before handing Nathan the glass. “He saved Kendall’s life, you know.”

“I know.” It didn’t help the pain in his stomach to think what might have happened if Marco hadn’t been that close. Nathan should have been there beside her. “Let me know if anything changes.”

“Certainly, sir.”

He gave Fergus a sharp glance as he took the glass. “What have I done to displease you now, Fergus?”

Fergus cleared his throat. “Well, if you must ask. You know I never intrude in your business—”

“Fergus, you’ve intruded in my business at least twice a week for the past decade. If there’s an afterlife, I’m sure you’ll find your way there so you can torment me as well.”

Fergus straightened his shoulders and gave a sound of disapproval. “I didn’t agree with your kidnapping Kendall and Jake.”

“I know that, Fergus. You made your opinion very clear, but I had my reasons.”

“Yes, you care for them, even if you won’t admit it, sir. I understand that, but what you’ve done now is surely going too far. This man isn’t your family. Have you stopped to think of the ramifications this could have? This could cause an international incident.”

“Stop calling me sir. Do you mean Marco?”

“No, I don’t mean Marco...sir. You know very well whom I mean.”

How the devil did Fergus know about that? “How did you find out?”

“I see things,” Fergus said, his shoulders stiffening.

Nathan’s hand tightened on the glass. “I had no choice, Fergus. He could be the answer to my problem. I have to know who he really is.”

And why his eyes look like mine.

“One day your money is going to be your doom,
sir
. Now if you’ll excuse me.”

Fergus closed the door, leaving Nathan alone. He took a seat and looked out the window of the jet, watching as Italy grew smaller on the horizon. He set the wine down and rubbed a knuckle over his chin. Had he gone too far? He didn’t know what else to do. He had to figure out what was wrong with him. What these bloody dreams were about.

He pulled the piece of paper he’d found in the secret room from his pocket and laid it on the table in front of him. Then he took out the journal, staring at the familiar leather cover stained with years of hopes and dreams. He didn’t know who it belonged to or why Thomas had had it, or where Jake had gotten the page of sketches, but Nathan would bet his soul that the sketches were somehow connected to the curse.

He opened the journal for the hundredth time, staring at the words written in code. Pulling out the loose page he’d found in Jake’s pack, he laid it beside the first paper and studied them side by side. The first sketch on both pages appeared to be a knife. But now he knew it was a spearhead. He moved on to the other sketches, comparing each one. He felt excitement stirring his blood. These must be the four relics. He was one step closer to his goal. His phone rang and he picked it up.

“We’ve arrived,” his security chief said.

“I’ll be there in a few hours,” Nathan said. “Keep him under guard, but don’t hurt him.” He turned to the panel of monitors and touched the one labeled “Virginia.” An image popped on the screen. Five guards were on each side of a tall, muscular man,
escorting him inside the lower level of the estate. The man turned and looked at the camera, amber eyes locking with Nathan’s for several seconds, as if he could see him watching from thousands of miles away. The man’s tattoos looked dark, his face even more hostile than it had seemed in person.

“OK, Raphael,” Nathan whispered to himself. “Let’s see how you managed to come back from the dead, and then you can tell me where the other three relics are.”

T
HERE ARE SO
many people I need to thank for helping me as I wrote this book. My family, of course. Without their support, I wouldn’t be writing at all. Dana Rodgers, my critique partner and friend, for her wonderful help with brainstorming, revising, and editing. Keep those pancakes coming! Lori McDermeit, a beta reader who has an excellent understanding of my stories. Tamie Holman, another beta reader who has eyes like a hawk. Nancy Barone Wythe for her “Italian” help. Clarence Haynes for his creative insights. Marcus Trower for the expert copyedits, my agent, Christine Witthohn who has helped me get this far, and finally Kelli Martin, my wonderful Montlake editor and the entire Montlake team. Thank you!

Photo credit is Barbara Woodward

N
EW
Y
ORK
T
IMES
and
USA Today
bestselling author Anita Clenney writes mysteries and paranormal romantic suspense novels, including the bestselling Connor Clan series. Clenney grew up an avid reader, devouring Nancy Drew and Hardy Boys books before moving on to mysteries and romance. It was only after several successful but wildly different careers—including work as an executive assistant, a real estate agent, a teacher’s assistant, and a brief stint in a pickle factory—that she discovered her untapped passion for writing. Clenney’s first novel,
Awaken the Highland Warrior
, won the Single Titles Reviewers’ Choice Award. She lives with her husband and two children in suburban Virginia.