Heart of Stone (15 page)

This house, a safe haven from the Mendukati, embodied the security she wanted to achieve for herself. And the closeness of the Montana family made her long for something she could never have—a family of her own where she belonged, was accepted for just being herself.

How could a Stone Singer ever have both? She couldn't, not as long as the Mendukati existed, and the truth shattered her, regret and grief inflaming her heart and smothering her naïve dreams.

She washed all that away in the vortex current, the past mistakes she'd made and the losses she'd suffered, and gave herself up to the healing mystical energy.

*   *   *

Darius knew Faith was somewhere nearby.

He picked his way along the pathway, avoiding rocks and tree roots in his path. He could have sent someone after her, maybe Rafe or Cara, but with Rafe's Soul Circle coming up, he didn't want to distract either of them. And Tessa was out of the question.

Which left him, not that he minded spending more time with Faith. Warnings from his father notwithstanding, ever since his mother had declared Faith his destined mate, he couldn't get the idea out of his mind. Everything seemed to be pushing them together: the attraction he had to her even in the midst of this craziness, the erotic dreams, the way he was able to lead her to safety in the chaos of the stone even when his own Seer powers were disabled.

One thing he'd learned when he'd healed himself out of that wheelchair was not to look askance at a gift from the gods.

He opened his empathic senses wider, searching for her. He felt someone up ahead, someone contemplative. He wouldn't have guessed it to be Faith except for the silver energy trail—the mate link—connecting them. After their encounter with the Stone of Igarle, the link had grown slightly stronger. He wondered if she sensed it yet. He doubted it. People tended to ignore what they chose not to see.

He came upon her in a place where several boulders had fallen centuries before, surrounded by a few trees and a stunning view of the buttes. She sat with her eyes closed in some kind of meditative state.

For a moment he enjoyed the sight of her, short dark hair gleaming in the sun, fair skin against her purple top, and the sweet curves revealed by her new jeans. His body recognized her on a basic level, tugging him toward her with an insistence he chose not to resist.

“So this is where you are,” he said.

Faith jerked her eyes open as Darius descended the incline. He didn't need the visual clue of her cheeks flaring tomato red to know how flustered she was; he could feel it. Her words came out in a burst. “Are you crazy? The footing here is uneven. Treacherous. You shouldn't be here.” She got up from the rock and went to meet him as he made it to her clearing.

“I've been walking this way since I was a kid. I know it pretty well.” Pausing on the downhill path, Darius stared out at the breathtaking view before them, giving her time to settle. “Gorgeous, isn't it?”

“Yes, a great place to be alone.”

He raised his brows at her thinly veiled annoyance. “I've disturbed you. I'm sorry. I came to tell you something, and I got distracted by this gorgeous scenery.” He inhaled deeply as he looked around, then turned his most charming smile on her. “I never get tired of it.”

“I doubt I would, either.”

He could feel her struggle to hang on to her displeasure. She was softening. “You're unhappy with me. I didn't mean to interrupt your meditation.”

She pushed her hand through her hair. Surrender. “You didn't interrupt much. Just checking out the vortexes.”

“The vortexes? I'd steer clear of them if I were you. The last Channeler who tried to access vortex energy nearly fried himself.”

“And that would be?”

“Jain Criten.” He didn't have to sense her surprise; it was written on her face.

“Criten tried to use the vortex energy?”

“Yeah, but not successfully. Apparently vortex energy is not good for Channelers.”

She raised her brows. “But it is for Seers?”

Darius shrugged. “Probably why my parents built a house here.”

“So any Channelers who came at you would find their powers compromised. Nice.” She glanced out at the buttes in the distance. “The vortex energy doesn't seem to bother me, but I'm a different kind of Channeler.”

“Oh?”

She waved a hand. “Know how you get a Stone Singer? Mate two elementals.”

“Okay, you're going to have to explain that one.”

“That's right, you don't know much about our people. A lot of Channelers have specific abilities. You saw Corinne, the lightning thrower, and I've heard that Jain Criten has the power to use energy to change matter.”

“I saw him change flowers into knives. That what you mean?”

“Yes.” She nodded. “Those are normal sorts of channeling powers. Now, elementals are Channelers whose abilities lie with the four basic elements: wind, fire, earth, air.” She indicated herself. “Obviously I identify with earth. My mother was a Wind Chanter and my father a Son of Poseidon, a water elemental. Elementals are rare, and when they produce a child, it is always another elemental, often a Stone Singer.”

“What about fire?”

“Michael's mother—Ben's late wife—was a Flame Walker.”

“Michael. He was your husband, right?”

“Yes. He died three years ago.”

“I read about it. His heart stopped, right? Strange for a guy still in his twenties.”

“That's right.” She kept her gaze level with his, but her sudden alertness hit him like red pepper flakes on the tongue. His empathic senses tingled with a hint of something beneath the surface, something dark and sticky and raw. But she suppressed it too quickly for him to read it. Secretiveness, maybe. Or shame. Guilt?

Damn it. There was something she wasn't telling him. Something about her husband's death. “Was he sick for long?”

“Not a day in his life. He had an accident.” She glanced away at that, another trickle of that stickiness filtering through to him. He didn't want to believe his father's speculation was right, but something had definitely happened on that ridge. Something disturbing. Was there any chance she was a danger to them after all?

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really.” She sent him a look, and her suspicion pricked at him. “So tell me, Darius, why is it always you handling me? Were you elected or something?”

“Something.” He stroked his goatee when she raised her eyebrows at him. “I'm the oldest, right? I'm also the family … um … diplomat.”

“Ah.” She folded her arms. “The peacekeeper.”

“I used to be. I have to admit, I've lost my patience with people since my accident. Just ask Rafe. He'll tell you I've been an angry guy lately.”

“You seem fine with me.”

“That's another story.”

“I bet.” She let out a long sigh. “Look, I'm kind of in new territory here. With the stone. With you … and your family,” she added quickly. “Not quite sure what I'm doing.”

“Solving a mystery.”

“A mystery that's going to take awhile. It's been centuries, maybe thousands of years, since that stone was cleared out and tuned properly.”

“Then we've got the right person to handle the job.” He sat down on a boulder, rested his chin on the hand covering the head of his cane and looked her straight in the eye. “I'm glad you're here.”

The thrill that he felt from her did a lot for his masculine ego. She tried to play it off. “Well, like you heard, I'm the only game in town.”

He didn't smile. “This isn't a game, Faith. My cousins were killed just yesterday.”

Her mirth faded. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to seem so cavalier about all this. Of course I know it's not a game.”

“My idea to bring you here … well, it wasn't an easy decision. I had to talk everyone else into it.” He stretched out his bad knee with a slow, controlled move. “Yesterday wasn't the first time my mom's family was targeted by the Mendukati—”

“I know. Cara mentioned it.”

He nodded. “Right. Your association with them was a concern. But we didn't have a choice, and I didn't know what to expect.”

“I—”

“I'm not finished.” Faith closed her mouth, and he continued. “Like I said, I didn't know what to expect from a Stone Singer, especially one who had been associated with the same people who keep trying to kill my family.”

“I wasn't with them for that long. And when I realized what they were doing, I got out. You can't think—” She pressed her lips together, but he could feel the sting of her hurt feelings. “Of course you do.”

“Don't put words in my mouth. I don't think you intend to hurt anyone.” He let out a long breath. “Look, this is getting way more intense than I intended. I came looking for you to tell you about the barbecue.”

“A barbecue?” She indicated her clothes. “I don't have much to wear to a party.”

“It's just the family. My dad's been itching to get some burgers going, and he thought tonight would be a good reason to get everyone together. You're invited.”

“I am?”

“Yes. He told me specifically to ask you to come.” When she didn't respond, he said, “Come on. Is that the act of someone who thinks you're the enemy?”

“I guess not. What time?”

“About six o'clock.”

She glanced at her watch. “That only gives me an hour! I should shower.”

“You look fine.”

“Leave it to a man to say that. I'll see you at six.” She started up the path but then paused. “Do you need any help getting back?”

“No, I'm good. I'll see you there.”

She hesitated, then nodded and hurried up the incline.

Darius watched her go. She was hiding something from him, something to do with her husband's death. How did a healthy twenty-eight-year-old man drop dead without a mark on him? She could just be feeling grief. Or maybe survivor's guilt because she hadn't been able to save him. He hoped that's all it was. Because his attraction to her was getting stronger.

According to what he knew about destined mates, the sexual tension built with speed and intense heat no matter what obstacles might lay in their path. Eventually they simply would not be able to keep their hands off each other.

Then again, maybe he was already there.

*   *   *

The soldiers he had were inadequate.

Azotay stared out into the night from the front seat of the lead SUV. The failed attempt to extract the Stone Singer, allowing her to escape with the Seers, of all creatures—a very poor showing. And now the rumored involvement of the Temple of Mneseus. Clearly he would have to see to every aspect of the mission himself. This Mendukati encampment had no idea what power the Stones of Ekhia could bring, the glory to be found for those who brought the new era to life. Their level of preparation fell far below what was expected by President Criten … and himself.

How on Earth had a Stone Singer come to exist in such a ragtag group as this? The sheer improbability boggled the mind.

Still, Azotay had gathered the best of them, sorry group that they were, and led them himself to Santa Fe to track down Ben Wakete. Once he had the carver in his grasp, he would have the perfect leverage to obtain the cooperation of the Stone Singer.

And he could see for himself if the rumors about Mneseus were true.

Wakete was not hard to locate. The exhibition hall holding the art show in which he would be participating had advertised well, and Wakete had a reputation as a skillful fetish carver, a good draw. They located Wakete's hotel, and a call to the front desk confirmed he had checked in, but his car was not in the lot. Probably out to dinner.

It was a simple matter to send teams out to find the car, and simpler still to launch an offensive on a lonely stretch of road … provided he did not have an unexpected bodyguard.

*   *   *

Faith came downstairs at 5:45, showered and dressed in a turquoise blouse spotted with flowers and a new long black skirt. She wore inexpensive black sandals on her feet and dangling gold earrings that featured clear fake crystal gems in her ears. She'd also dipped into her new makeup and had a sweater hooked over her arm.

The first person she saw was Tessa, dressed in white capris and a white top, a dark blue sweatshirt, and tennis shoes. She turned away before the blonde could see her and caught sight of John Montana in a T-shirt and faded jeans behind the barbecue. Maria laughed beside him as she held a platter of burgers. Her dark hair was pulled in a haphazard up-do held with a large clip, and she also wore a turquoise shirt with her jeans and flip-flops. Rafe lay on a lounge chair, also garbed casually, as he joked with Tessa. Darius sat nearby, dressed in jeans, brown sandals, and a white T-shirt with an open, button-down shirt of slate gray over it that no doubt accented his eyes. His long dark hair looked damp from the shower.

She was overdressed. She wondered if there was time to sneak back to her room and change before anyone saw her. She had just slipped back through the kitchen doors when Cara came into the kitchen. She, too, seemed casually dressed in jeans and a pink top with a gray hooded sweatshirt over it, her hair in its usual ponytail. She was pushing buttons on her phone when she looked up.

“Hey, Faith. Where you going?”

“I'm just going to run up and change,” Faith replied.

“Why? You look great.”

“No, I'm overdressed. I was going to slip upstairs and put on some jeans.”

“Nah, you look pretty.” Faith grinned. “Dress for anyone special?”

“Of course not.” But Faith couldn't help looking out the door at Darius.

“Uh-huh. Pull the other one.” Cara slipped the phone into her pocket and followed Faith's glance. “You can't fool a woman in love. Since I doubt you're ogling my man, I'm thinking you're checking out Darius.”