Stone of Ascension Page 3

  Tears stung her eyes as she sniffed back her frustration. She needed to get rid of the box. Put the whole stupid night behind her. But her heart clenched and balked at the thought.

  She couldn’t get rid of it.

  The slight creak of the floorboards overhead spurred Amber into motion. Her aunt was awake.

  Shaking her hand in an attempt to relieve the odd soreness that remained, she looked around for a place to hide the box. The urgency to stash it away increased with each squeak and groan on the stairs as her aunt descended to the shop.

  Spotting an old sewing trunk in the corner, Amber rushed to stow the box inside. She didn’t question her actions or why she had to hide the stone. She just did.

  Throwing some old blankets over the box, she closed the trunk then pushed it back behind a tall china cabinet, stacking random objects and trinkets on top of it.

  “Amber, is that you?” Her aunt’s firm, flat voice drifted through the shop. Crap.

  “Yes, Aunt Bev. It’s me.”

  Silently, she moved back to the counter, stiffening her back for the confrontation to come. She wiped her damp palms on her jeans, took a deep breath and froze.

  On the back of her hand along with the lingering sting of pain was an elegantly sketched tattoo of a white bird rising in flight.

  No way.

  Hastily she rubbed at the image, frantic to remove it. It stayed. How?

  No way. No, no, no. No.

  She scratched at the etching, prepared to gouge the image off her skin. Anything to get it off. Anything to make it go away. To make it all go away.

  Her skin turned red with welts that marred the thin flesh on the back of her hand. But the bird stayed unscathed.

  It was beautiful in its simplicity. Haunting with its stark color. And taunting her mercilessly with its refusal to disappear.

  Aunt Bev stepped into the room. A deep frown creased her forehead and matched the curve of her thin lips. Amber shoved her shaking hands into her coat pockets and tried to still her quaking nerves.

  The old, pink bathrobe was cinched around her aunt’s plump girth like a protective shield. The slightly bed-messed silver hair did not deter from the overall aura of superiority that always emanated from her aunt. Technically, she was Amber’s great aunt, but since Aunt Bev was Amber’s only living relative, the distinction never mattered.

  “So you’re back.” The icy chill of the words matched the hard look of disapproval that sparked from her deep brown eyes. “I hope your little trip was worth the worry you caused me.”

  Amber bit down on her bottom lip, letting her aunt’s anger pool around her. Any reply would be wrong.

  Her aunt stepped forward until she stood a mere foot away, completely invading Amber’s personal space in a practiced move of intimidation. Amber held her ground. At five foot ten, Amber was taller than her aunt. The fact her aunt had to look up to meet Amber’s eyes was an advantage she secretly relished.

  “Your foolishness could have cost you everything.” Flames of determination flashed in her aunt’s eyes, her face a hard mask of controlled fury. “You have no idea the evil you play with. I have tried desperately to keep you protected. To keep you safe. I have given up everything for you. Yet you still resist me. I thought you were better than your mother. I raised you to be better.”

  Shame—her own this time—clogged her throat. She had disappointed her aunt, the one person in the world who actually loved her. “I’m sorry you feel that way. I didn’t mean to cause you worry.”

  Which was true. Her aunt might be overbearing and protective, but she always meant well. When Amber had found herself alone in the world at the age of nine after her mother was murdered, it was Aunt Bev who had taken her in without question. Despite her aunt’s many faults, Amber had never doubted the love she felt from her adopted parent.

  Aunt Bev’s gaze searched Amber’s face before the stiffness slowly left her body. Her voice softened, the concern now evident in the faint curl of her lips. “Are you okay, Amber?” She reached out to cup Amber’s cheek. “When Joseph called looking for you, I panicked.”

  Amber swallowed and forced her voice to stay even. “The shaman called here looking for me?”

  “Yes. He said it was important that you get home.” Her eyes drilled into Amber, putting an edge on the low currents of her voice. “Why?”

  “I don’t know,” she hedged, ignoring the sudden burning pain on the back of her hand. She could tell her aunt didn’t believe her. But she couldn’t tell her what had happened.

  Her aunt dropped Amber’s hand and turned back toward the stairs. Her voice drifted quietly through the room. “I love you, Amber. I’ve always tried to do what was right for you. I’ve tried to do my role as Joseph ordered when he brought you to my door. But, more than that, I’ve guarded and protected you. Kept you safe—as I was told to do. I’ve…” Her breath hitched, her shoulders stiffened then relaxed, before she continued. “It is time for you to keep yourself safe. The time is coming when your life will be in your hands alone. I can only hope that you are prepared for it. That you make the right choices…that you can handle it.”

  “What are you talking about?” Amber stared dumbfounded at her aunt’s back. “Protected me from what?” The questions tumbled through her brain, the confusion causing her thoughts to scramble in a futile attempt to understand what her aunt was saying. Her fingers itched to reach out and touch her aunt. To reassure and comfort her, but the burn on the back of her hand reminded Amber she couldn’t.

  “There’s no need for you to protect me anymore, Aunt Bev. I appreciate all that you’ve done for me. I love you, but I’m old enough to take care of myself. That’s why I went on the trip to New York even though you told me not to. It wasn’t defiance that made me go, but a desire to expand, to explore the world and try new things. And nothing happened. Everything’s fine. I’m back safe and sound.”

  Her aunt sighed, a big breath filled with more than just air. “You can lie to me, but I hope you don’t lie to yourself.”

  Thankful her aunt couldn’t see the flush that heated her cheeks, Amber fumbled for words, looking for solidity in her suddenly tumbling world. What was going on?

  “I don’t understand what you mean,” she finally mumbled.

  “And that may be my greatest failure,” Aunt Bev whispered before she shuffled away.

  She gaped at her aunt’s retreating back until it disappeared around the corner. The stairs creaked as she made her way back to their apartment. Amber ached to go after her and ease the rift between them, but now wasn’t the time.

  The burning sting on her hand began to fade with her aunt’s retreat. She pulled a shaky hand from her pocket to stare again at the mysterious bird scored into her skin.

  How? Why? What in the hell was happening to her life? To her?

  Her eyes were pulled to the corner where the sewing trunk sat. Her fingers absently rubbed the mark on her hand, and she was surprised at how smooth the surface felt. They were linked—the stone and the mark—that was obvious. It wasn’t logical. It was too weird and unbelievable.

  And definitely not meant for her.

  Maybe it was all a mistake. And maybe there really wasn’t a bird branded into the back of her hand. Her gaze drifted down to stare at the proof that it wasn’t all a dream or mistake.

  The bird was on her hand.

  Her chest constricted as an overwhelming feeling of doom settled in for a long, unwanted visit. She could no longer deny that somehow she was getting the adventure she so foolishly wanted.

  Now, if she could only give it back.

  Chapter Four

  Eight weeks later

  Amber stared at the gathering crowd from the safety of her car. It was a dank, cold morning that threatened snow and had most people, smart people, huddled warmly in their homes. Exactly where she wanted to be. Instead, she sat soaking up the last bit of heat and forestalling the inevitable.

  She spotted Kayla weaving her way through the g
roup of people, chatting with some, smiling at others, comfortable in her surroundings. There were a number of members from the Indian tribe attending the mayor’s speech. All coordinated by Kayla in protest of the wind turbines that were being erected in Nantucket Sound.

  In the eight weeks since the awful trip to New York City, Amber had managed to evade and dodge Kayla’s repeated attempts to contact her. Avoidance was her primary objective. Denial her mantra. The longer she could ignore everything—pretend nothing was different, nothing had changed—the better. She hadn’t touched the deceptive little box since she’d stuffed it in the sewing trunk, had blatantly ignored the bird mark, and had sighed in relief when the shaman had remained quiet—when everything had remained quiet and normal.

  Which made her think that maybe she really was being paranoid. Even if there was an unwanted bird etched onto her hand. She needed to get out, and the rally seemed like the perfect way to mingle without having to answer questions. There would be too many people around for a deep conversation.

  At least, that was her plan.

  Amber glanced at the clock on the car’s dashboard then took one last look through the crowd. No Nate. She still wasn’t ready to face him. Her stomach curled just thinking about him.

  Biting the bullet, she opened the door and exited into the frosty air that gusted off the water. It was a stupid place to hold a rally, but then she suspected the mayor’s publicity committee had hoped March would roll out like a lamb instead of the lion it was.

  She quickly crossed the street, tucking her head against the wind as she followed the small path through the park to the assembly area. The back of her hand prickled beneath her glove, reminding her why she had been avoiding everyone.

  The mark wasn’t easy to hide.

  Make-up, which seemed to fade quickly, extra-long sleeves and fingerless gloves had worked so far in keeping her dirty little secret hidden. Her aunt had remained silent and distant since her quiet outpouring of…what? Guilt? Anger? Resentment? Amber still wasn’t sure what it had been, but she’d left it alone, uncertain how to bridge the rift that had opened between them.

  Kayla, however, was more persistent, and Amber hadn’t been ready before now to dodge her questions about New York, Nate or her new fashion choices.

  The snow crunched beneath her boots, the low chatter of the assembling crowd growing louder but indistinguishable over the harsh brush of the wind. Amber kept her head down, her shoulders hunched against the cold that attempted to sneak around the collar of her coat.

  Her mind was busy rehearsing her words to Kayla, silently orchestrating the meeting, preparing herself to deflect any questions and act casual. The hard smack of wool against her forehead jolted her out of her thoughts right before her nose met the same unmoving wall.

  She jerked back in surprise. The bird mark burned under her glove, matching the odd sensation that scorched through her. Amber stared at the black wool as she caught a whiff of pine scent and realized she’d just rammed into someone.

  “I’m so sorry. I wasn’t looking…” The quick, embarrassed apology that tumbled off her lips died when the person turned to reveal the deep, crystal blue eyes of the man she’d just plowed into. Her breath caught.

  Damian Aeros. This time, she wasn’t imagining him.

  “No problem.” His deep voice glided through the air in rich baritone notes. “Are you okay?”

  He looked her over while she struggled to find her voice. “I’m fine. I’m sorry. I didn’t see you.” The jumbled garble of statements came out sounding just as flustered as she felt. Great. She took a deep breath and tried again. “I’m the one who ran into you. Are you okay?”

  A slight smile curved over his firm lips and lifted the hard set of his features. “I’m fine.”

  “I should watch where I’m walking,” she said in a lame attempt to hold a conversation. He was even more attractive up close, and her tongue suddenly felt thick and foreign in her mouth. “Then maybe I wouldn’t crash into innocent people.”

  “An incident that has allowed me to finally meet you,” he said smoothly. A light danced in his eyes as they held hers. The blue depths entranced her and reminded her of the sky just before sunrise when the purity of color was at its deepest.

  Heat flushed through her. What did he mean, finally meet her? She felt her cheeks burning and knew the blush was giving away her secrets. She smiled and hunted her blank mind for a witty reply.

  A punishing gust of wind pummeled her back in a surprise attack that forced her forward to within inches of his chest. He flicked his hands up to catch her arms, holding her steady. The tattoo seared and fluttered under her skin as a staggering flash of sensation consumed her.

  Her eyes widened as his face hardened.

  “What…” Her words trailed off under his rigid gaze.

  He dropped his hold on her arms and stepped back. His lips thinned removing the warmth from his expression.

  “Excuse me,” he snapped, before turning away to move toward the stage.

  What was that about? Amber shook off the sense of loss, and absently rubbed the tingling from her fingers as she watched him greet the mayor and shake hands with others assembled near the base of the platform. He radiated power, from the expensive cut of the black wool trench coat that accentuated his tall frame and the broad breadth of his shoulders to the crisply folded violet silk scarf that was wrapped around his neck and tucked neatly into the collar of his coat. The unique color added to the pure sense of unchallenged male that emanated from him.

  She shoved her shaking hands in her pockets and turned away, dismissing the lingering tingle that raked her body as nerves.

  Damian Aeros, CEO of a global wind turbine company. Of course it was nerves that had her acting so foolish. The strange feeling of rightness that had overcome her when the wind had pushed her toward his chest was silly and stupid. It was nothing but wishful thinking once again and wrong on so many levels.

  The thought of Kayla’s reaction to her blunder made Amber smile when she finally reached her friend’s side. At least she had something to distract Kayla with.

  “Hey, guess who I just plowed into, literally?” Amber interjected before Kayla could start asking questions. “Mr. Aeros himself.”

  Kayla laughed. “Good move. I wish I could have seen it.” She cocked a smile at Amber. “In fact, I wish I’d thought of it myself. Did you give him a good kick too?” Her laughter bubbled over and infected Amber.

  “No. It was embarrassing. Really,” Amber said, shaking her head. There was no way Kayla could know about her hidden fascination with the CEO. Kayla saw him as the ultimate villain and held him personally responsible for the wind turbines being erected in the pristine waters of the Sound.

  A sharp, piercing squeal reverberated from the speaker, causing everyone to cringe. Kayla shot Amber an assessing look before the mayor’s political advisor stepped up to the microphone and began to speak.

  “Don’t think this gets you off the hook. We still need to talk,” Kayla leaned in to tell her.

  “About what?” Amber played the stupidity card.

  “Why you’ve been avoiding me for two months.”

  “I haven’t been avoiding you,” Amber insisted, but she couldn’t meet her friend’s eyes. “I’ve just been busy.”

  Kayla gave her a dubious look. They both knew that Amber’s life wasn’t that busy. Kayla softened. “I just want to be sure you’re okay. I was worried about you after New York.”

  Now the guilt kicked in. Why was everyone so worried about her lately?

  “Nothing happened,” Amber deflected again. “I’m fine. Really. Aunt Bev was a little mad, but we both knew that was going to happen. Did your grandfather ever tell you why he ordered us home?”

  “No, of course not. You know his eccentric crypticness. He only reveals what he thinks you need to know. Evidently, the why of leaving New York is something we don’t need to know.” She gave a shrug of dismissal and held Amber’s gaze. “Do you
know why?”

  Yeah, she’d walked right into that one.

  Amber smiled and blatantly ignored her friend’s question. “So what were the chances of me running over the head honcho like that out of all the people here?”

  Kayla’s eyes narrowed, but once again, she let Amber do the duck and dive. A reprieve Amber feared wouldn’t last for long.

  “About as probable as the wind turbines all magically tumbling into the ocean,” Kayla countered.

  “Or the sun suddenly appearing to warm us the hell up.” Amber chuckled, waving her hand dismissively at the cloud-drenched sky. The laughter died from her lips when the clouds separated in an unnatural move. The golden rays of the sun rained down on the small gathering, making it seem like Amber’s action had parted the clouds.

  Kayla stared at the sky in stunned amazement. “Yeah, maybe,” she mumbled, all amusement gone, the lame attempt at a lighter mood wiped out by the eeriness of the moment. She looked to Amber, her soft voice raspy in a way that had the damn hairs rising on Amber’s neck once again. “And maybe there’s a reason why you ran into Damian Aeros.”

  Chapter Five

  He stood still and rigid. Waiting. Observing. Assessing.

  Patience. Damian Aeros was tempered with it—a thousand years’ worth of finely cultured patience. The kind that enabled him to stand stoic and placid as the overly boisterous voice droned on, trying to entice the gathered crowd.

  The harsh wind snapped over the podium, ripping at the papers and compelling the esteemed mayor of Newport, Rhode Island to clutch at the fragile pieces in a frantic attempt to maintain control. The mayor’s voice faltered as the wind rushed against the microphone, forcing its own harsh voice to roar over the speakers in a glaring demand for attention.

  But Damian’s focus wasn’t on the words of the mayor. No, his concentration was centered on the tall, raven-haired beauty bunched in the middle of the small crowd.

  The one he always found. She was striking in her simplicity—make-up free, lips naturally red, cheeks rosy from the cold. Her long, unbound hair glimmered like silk in the light and flowed around her head like waves of dark water. She appeared distant, almost lost, clearly not focused on the mayor’s words as her gaze veered off to stare at the turbulent waves on the Sound.