Stone of Ascension (17 page)

The man’s voice oozed menace. If he was waiting for a reaction, she gave him none. The dark energy stroked against her, the cold edges circling and enticing her with their lure of seduction. Of the power the dark energy could give her.

Damian pulled on her elbow, inching them backwards in a subtle evasion tactic. “Don’t let him bait you. Don’t give him what he wants.”

Tubal’s deep, sinister laugh rolled through the air. “I always get what I want. You should know that better than anyone, Damian.”

Amber shook off the cold and let her rage simmer and boil, the energy steaming and brewing within her. The culmination of the day of pain, upheaval and shock festered just below the surface of her tightly contained emotions. Now this evil asshole thought he could just poof in and take her too. Take her, use her, then kill her.

Not a chance.

Damian’s hand flexed around hers, pulled her attention and pulsed with power. Words whispered over the energy, binding with her subconscious to speak their intent. And she got it. Somehow, she understood what he wanted. The energy flowed powerful and strong between them, entwining with the stone and caressing her bird.

Damian halted their retreat and lifted his free hand over his head. The air quickly started to turn, twist and swirl into a vicious tornado focused completely around the enemy. It sounded like a freight train had entered the circle as the wind tore ferociously at their attacker, but left them completely untouched. Damian looked at her expectantly, a trickle of sweat running off his forehead and down the side of his face.

Now
. The words whispered across her mind, and slammed into her consciousness. The energy spiked hot and hard behind the stone.

Amber lifted her hand and focused all her thoughts on the tornado. She felt the anger boil higher as she thought of all that had happened. Of all she had lost in the span of twelve simple hours. In less than one day, the life she had once known was gone forever.

She let the pain and frustration flow through her. Let it simmer and fester until it meshed with the energy to unite in a potent mix of power and wrath.

Enough.
The thought roared through her mind and with it came the power. The hot, burning flames shot from her hand, burst through the tornado and blasted into her target. Their evil nemesis went flying, so focused on the tornado he had no inkling the fire was coming. The brief look of surprise that lit his face was priceless, the shock and anger satisfying, then his body slammed into the earth with a deadened thump.

The man lay motionless on the ground, a small smoke trail rose from his chest, the lingering evidence of what she’d done. Amber dropped her hand as relief flooded through her. Her knees weakened and trembled with the suppressed fear that finally surfaced at the elimination of the threat.

Damian dropped his arm and the tornado drifted away. The wind stopped, the air stilled. The energy that had been circling them—trapping them—quietly drifted down and evaporated along with the flames that had been continually burning in the small patch of grass.

Darkness and quiet settled over the street with unnerving calm. With the energy field gone, the common night sounds returned. The bark of a dog, the rustle of the wind through the trees, the purr of a car motor on a neighboring street. It was as if the energy field had blocked the sounds from entering and existing as well.

The energy slowly dissipated and settled within her. The stone cooled and her bird fluttered, turned, then rested.

A bone-deep exhaustion swamped her as she acknowledged the adrenaline drain that made her hands shake. Amber released the breath she had been holding and gulped in much-needed air. Lingering scents of smoke, burnt grass and something else she refused to think about assaulted her nose and made her gag.

Damian toppled to his knees and fell forward to brace himself on his hands. His back heaved up and down as he pushed great gusts of air through his chest.

“Damian.” Amber bent down, frantic to help. “What’s wrong? What can I do?” She tentatively placed a hand on his good shoulder, leaning forward to peer at his face. “Damian, please. Tell me what I can do.”

He lifted his head just enough to enable his pain-filled eyes to meet hers. His lids drifted closed as he breathlessly spoke on an exhale, “Kill him…I must finish him.” Damian struggled to get to his feet, pushing up before he toppled back to the ground with a low groan.

“Finish him?” Amber shook her head in confusion. What did he want? Every fiber of her body was screaming to get the hell out of there.

“I need to kill him.” His raspy voice was barely audible as he once again tried to push to his feet only to fall back to his hands and knees. His struggle was filled with pain and gut-wrenching determination despite his body’s refusal to cooperate.

Before she could argue with him, a black cloud formed next to the enemy’s fallen form. Amber jumped to her feet and quickly found the knife she had dropped earlier. She gripped it tightly in her fist, her previous exhaustion dismissed in preparation for another attack.

Her breath caught and held when the cloud dissipated to reveal the outline of a woman. The darkness hid her features, but Amber could see the wispy flow of long black hair as it curled down her back and surrounded her face.

The air dipped cooler as an undeniable wave of worry and suppressed fear hit Amber. The woman crouched and laid a gentle hand on the man’s forehead. The stranger turned her head and pierced Amber with a hate-filled glare. A quick flash of violet sparked from her eyes before the two disappeared into the night.

“Noooo!” Damian roared as he lunged to where the man had been. He stumbled forward until he stood heaving over the now empty space. His head fell back, and Amber cringed as a howl of pure torture tore from Damian’s battered body.

Unsure of what had just happened, of what was causing Damian’s pain, Amber slowly moved to his side. The look of utter defeat on his face was a deep contrast to the victory and relief she was feeling. They were alive. They survived.

But Damian looked as if he wanted to die.

She hesitantly reached out to touch his arm and held her ground when he winced and pulled away. She kept her grasp firm and refused to back off. The need to comfort, to help him, overpowered any fear or need to retreat.

“Damian.” She kept her voice low, but strong. “We need to go.” The misery that swept through the energy tore at her heart. But she wasn’t going to broach the subject of his pain right now. She knew they weren’t safe and getting out of there seemed obvious.

He nodded, then swayed. Amber shoved the knife into her coat pocket then tucked herself next to his side to hold him steady. Supporting two hundred and thirty odd pounds of man was no easy feat, but she pulled on the last of her strength and kept him standing. He groaned under his breath and grimaced, but stayed on his feet.

He had kept his word and risked his life to save her. She owed him.

“The tower,” he mumbled low and husky against her ear.

“What?”

“Newport Tower,” he said on an exhale. “Go there.”

“Can’t you port us out of here?”

His head shook. “Too weak…”

Great. “Why Newport Tower?” Even as she asked, she realized the question was irrelevant. Damian had done nothing but protect her since he’d pulled her out of the council chamber. He had to have a valid reason for going to the strange circular structure. Amber got her bearings and calculated where the city landmark was located. “This way.”

Together they shuffled down the street, his weight pressing down on her shoulders. The night was silent, the shadows offering both protection and danger. This time she stayed out of the light, aware that Damian’s barely conscious and beat-up state would draw too much attention if they were seen.

The energy pressed on her, blending with the wind and pushing at her back. Nudging her forward, shoving its will alongside her resolve and forcing her onward. Amber stumbled, and Damian followed, his weight throwing them forward and close to tumbling headlong into the cement sidewalk. Bending deep, she forced them upright, knowing she wouldn’t be able to get him back up if they fell.

The sweat ran in steady streams down the side of her face and soaked through the back of her shirt. Her hair, a constant cause of annoyance, hung around her face in limp, sticky strands.

A movement in the darkness ahead of them had Amber slowing, then she stopped, her senses alert. Fear gripped her even as she gathered her courage. Her limbs quivered and strained under Damian’s weight, and she wondered how she would make it to the tower.

A figure moved within the shadows, definitely a person.

The energy slipped through her, sluggish, drained, but desperately trying to vitalize and prepare her. Her bird circled, swooped and arched, claws extended.

She would fight. She would defend.

Or she would die.

Chapter Thirteen

The wind gusted icy and cold down the deserted street causing a can to clatter against the pavement, pushed along by invisible fingers. The sound rankled Amber’s already frayed nerves and only served to highlight just how alone they were. The empty tree branches swung and bobbed against the pressure of the wind, their shadows dancing over the ground, shifting and swaying in a rhythm set by another.

Amber brushed her hair back from her face, tightened her jaw and waited.

She tensed as the silhouette moved. Coming closer, the sound of boots clumped on the sidewalk. She had no idea how she would defend them, but she’d already done so much that day that she’d never thought herself capable of. This was just one more hurdle she would manage.

Joseph stepped out of the shadows into the dim light of the overhead streetlight, a deep crease of concern pressed into his furrowed brow. Amber’s breath expelled in a deep gush of relief, causing her knees to sag under Damian’s weight.

“Will you let me help?” Joseph’s seemingly odd question caught her off guard and gave her pause.

“Do you mean us harm?” She didn’t feel that he did, but then she’d learned so brutally today that impressions didn’t mean anything. Her bird—the intrusive mark that had come to life so vividly that day, the one she had intuitively begun to listen to—tucked its wings in rest.

“No, child. I would never harm you.” He cast his gaze over the slumping form of Damian and took a step closer. “I will help, if you allow it.”

Her limbs shook under the strain of holding Damian upright, and the shaman’s offer of help seemed like a gift from the universe. She nodded.

Joseph stepped up and tucked himself under Damian’s other arm, mindful of the gaping wound on his shoulder and upper chest. Damian groaned in protest and tried to pull away.

“It’s okay, Damian,” Amber soothed. “Joseph’s going to help. I don’t think I can get you to the tower by myself.” Her words must have registered because he stopped his struggles. She knew Damian was still semiconscious because she wouldn’t have been able to hold him up if he had been completely passed out. As it was, her legs and back sighed in relief when Joseph took some of Damian’s weight.

Together, they moved slowly through the city blocks, Joseph silent the entire way. He never even asked where they were heading. Amber had a hundred questions for the shaman, but it took all her effort and concentration to keep Damian upright, to keep her feet moving. Each step felt like a giant leap with cement blocks tied to her feet as they hiked up the hill toward the tower. The physical strain kept her mind blessedly blank.

Finally, they made it to the park where Newport Tower was located. The circular, stone structure was ancient and had been the topic of speculation and research for many years. Amber had never given it much thought, but now the anomaly of a building pulled at her. It seemed to welcome her with a warm rush of belonging.

The tower itself was about two stories tall and made entirely of stone. The intricate masonry work was stunning and amazing given the time period when it had been built. The best guess was sometime predating the 1400s, thus the questions of who had built it and how.

It had eight cylindrical columns that formed symmetrical stone arches around the base with smaller windows along the upper portion above the arches. The top, if there ever was one, had long ago toppled, leaving the building open to the environment.

Amber paused at the edge of the park to catch her breath and process her next steps. The tower was completely enclosed by a high, black, metal fence. It was also lit up like a flaming Christmas tree. Big floodlights were situated around the perimeter of the structure in an effort to keep vandals out. Which was all good and nice, but didn’t help her at all.

“Come, child,” Joseph prompted as he started moving toward the tower. Amber had no choice but to trudge along with him. She didn’t even question how the shaman seemed to know that was her destination.

The stone on her chest warmed and began to pulse in time with each step she took closer to the tower. And with each step, Amber felt the energy thicken around her. It brushed against her cheeks in soothing caresses and hovered around her mind in acknowledgement.

All around them the darkness stretched into the silence. The unusual quiet was unsettling given that it was still early evening. The wind blew strong and hard into her, blowing her hair off her face and out of her eyes in a helpful stroke of assistance.