Stone of Ascension (7 page)

He was a man who was used to being obeyed.

His deep blue eyes penetrated her with precision and calculation. He scanned her from toe to head and back down, a perusal that left her skin tingling under his gaze. His assessment halted to focus on the fist that had a death grip on the stone.

He stepped forward and grabbed her wrist in one lightning-quick motion. His fingers clamped around the fragile bones, firm, but not painful. The restraint only underlined his strength. Amber yanked on her arm to pull it out of his grasp, but he held firm.

“
No
.” He couldn’t have it. It belonged to
her
.

Heat seared through the thin layer of her shirt where his long, strong fingers circled her wrist. The bird mark tingled with an awareness that was almost welcoming. It didn’t burn like she’d become accustomed to. Instead it rippled with warm, soothing waves of…longing.

“Let me go,” Amber demanded. “What do you want?”

She watched, entrapped both physically and mentally by the man before her. His focus was on her hand, not the object she held within it. He didn’t lift his head or meet her eyes. Instead, he slowly reached out his other hand and pushed up the material of her shirt, revealing the stark, white bird etched into her skin.

His breath hitched, and his hand stilled a moment before his fingertips brushed lightly across the surface of her skin in an elegant caress over the bird. The touch left a trail of heat, the warmth reaching deep into her body. She was certain her imagination was running crazy because it felt like the bird shuddered in delight. The sensation rebounded within her. She bit down on her tongue to hold back the startled gasp that threatened to betray her.

“You are the Marked One,” his deep voice murmured, an edge of awe mingled with the words. His fingers still stroked the bird in seemingly absent wonder.

“What?” she croaked. Amber cleared her throat and tried again, desperate to sound coherent and unafraid. The energy poured out of the stone and swirled around them in hot, vibrating waves. “What do you want? Why are you here?”

“You are the Marked One.” His voice was stronger, more insistent.

Her breath stuck in her lungs as her mind flashed back to the alley. To the exact words the Asian said before he gave her the stone:
We are not the enemy of the Marked One.

“What are you talking about?” What the hell was the ‘Marked One’?

He jerked his head up, his eyes locking with hers to silently convey the importance of his next statement. “The one who bears the mark of the white bird will have the power to change the world.”

She broke eye contact and looked down at the bird etched on her skin. Despite the profound statement just made by the overwhelming man before her, relief flooded her system.

He didn’t want the stone. It was still hers.

She was the one.

This woman who pulled at him. Who enticed and lured him like no other.

She was the one who could save him. The one who could return everything he had lost. His family, his status, his community and most of all, respect from the people who really mattered—the Energens.

Excitement whipped through him, awakened from a long, dormant absence, forcing Damian to call on the patience that had served him so well. He had to temper the anticipation with the calm, icy reality of all that must be done. He studied his lost beauty, ignoring the heat that radiated up his arm from her wrist and the energy that was attempting to suck him in, closer to her.

Her gaze lifted from her hand to stare at him in defiant resignation. Her chin was tilted up, showing off her strong jaw and graceful neck. But it was her eyes that captured him, as they always did. They were a stunning shade of hazel and gold rimmed with long, dark lashes. He felt like he was staring at a pair of precious jewels that currently sparked with shock, fear and a touch of strength. Her eyes were a deadly weapon she wielded without knowledge.

His body responded immediately, tightening and rippling with the energy that pulled at him. He was instantly in tune with her like he’d known her forever.

As if she belonged to him.

Impossible.

Stifling the strange notion, he focused on the task. “You called me here. Why?”

“I what?” the beauty sputtered, then her eyes narrowed and her back stiffened. “I did not call you here.” She paused as if a thought just took hold. “How
did
you get here?”

Her voice held strong even as she jerked on the arm he held hostage. There was no pretense that she didn’t recognize him. No shock of amazement or fainting that might consume a weaker woman. Giving her a brief explanation could go a long way in gaining her trust.

A trust that would get him what he needed.

“The energy called me here. To you. You bear the sign of the Marked One.” His fingers skimmed over the mark of the bird once again. “The sign to all in the Energy races that the Great War is coming.” There, done. “Now, you must come with me.”

Shock flashed across her face, her golden eyes sparking with irritation. “Do I look crazy to you?”

His gut clenched, desire pulling hot against the pooling energy that built in his system. No. Crazy was definitely
not
how he would describe her.

He raised an eyebrow. “So it’s common for strange men to appear before you out of thin air?” Her suddenly still, pale face brought a small quirk of satisfaction as the question hit its mark. “I was called here for a reason. How did you do it?”

“I didn’t do anything.”

The ring of truth in her voice gave him pause. Was it possible she really didn’t know what was going on? Was she that innocent, that unaware of what she was? “You did something. The energy was clear, pure—stronger than any I’ve ever felt. It still is.”

Her fist clenched around an object in her hand. Damian flipped her wrist to see what she held. He inhaled sharply in stunned silence when he saw the stone gripped tightly within her grasp.

“Where did you get that?”

Once again she pulled on her arm. “It’s mine,” she stated almost desperately. “It’s just a stone.”

He chuckled softly. “Wrong. I think we both know it’s more than just a stone. Its beauty alone screams of power and reverence. And if that wasn’t enough, the energy it emanates is unlike anything I’ve ever felt.” He twisted her wrist from side to side to get a better look at the object. Oddly, he had no desire to take it from her.

The stone appeared almost fluid, churning in varying shades of violet, white and gold that continually climbed over each other in a persistent struggle for dominance. More importantly, it hummed with power. Old, ancient, enchanted. It was strength in its purest form.

It was a power that would be sought by many. Just like the Marked One would be.

With reluctance, he let go of her wrist and instantly felt the missing connection. His fingers stung like they had fallen asleep and were trying to reawaken. But then he realized his entire body felt that way. His blood pumped and hummed with renewed vitality.

The urgency pushed at him. They needed to move before others arrived. He picked up the small wooden box that sat open on the counter, extracting the simple gold circle that rested within it before closing and pocketing the box.

Damian stepped forward and pulled her into his embrace before she could protest.

“It’s time to go.”

The simple words were the only warning she received before he dissipated out of the small shop with his beauty clamped firmly in his arms.

Chapter Seven

Amber felt oddly free and light. She held on to Damian like he was her lifeline. Hell, he
was
her lifeline. Letting go was not an option.

In a flash of light, the world solidified, and her feet landed on solid ground. Her arms continued to grip the strong body in front of her. Within his sheltering hold, the energy—that fiery sensation that burned and tingled as it raced through her whenever he touched her—encased her.

For just a moment, she embraced that elusive feeling of being protected and safe. Slowly, her stomach settled and her mind responded to the surroundings.

It was
freezing
.

A cold wind pummeled them in its furry and blew through the thin layer of her cotton shirt like it was tissue paper. She shivered and fought the disturbing desire to stay huddled against the large frame that was providing the only source of warmth. But sanity snapped back into place.

Amber pushed hard upon the solid chest in front of her and stepped out of his arms. Instantly, she felt the sudden emptiness as the fire ceased. She was aware that he let her go. He might be the executive of some big company, but the solid muscle under his expensive clothing was proof that he was no pencil-pushing figurehead.

She wrapped her arms around herself in an attempt to retain the receding heat and block the icy wind. She shivered again and shoved her clenched fists under her armpits to keep them from becoming popsicles.

He stood there guarded and silent—watching her.

“Where are we?” Her anger quickly pushed back the rising panic and overtook the original shock that had numbed her.

He reached up and extracted the violet scarf from around his neck. “North Dakota.”

“What?” Her mouth hung open in disbelief. Her misfiring brain cells held her in place as she tried to process his words. Slowly, Amber turned her head and took stock of her surroundings.

They were standing on the front porch of an old farmhouse in the middle of nowhere, North Dakota, if she was to believe him. There was nothing but drifting snow banks and open fields broken up by the occasional tree line as far as she could see. It was harsh, brutal and eerily empty.

Taking advantage of her frozen astonishment, Damian stepped forward and wrapped his scarf around her neck. With surprising tenderness, he carefully pulled the length of her hair out from under the scarf so the soft material was tucked against the skin of her neck.

“Why did you bring me here?” she asked numbly. She would ignore the question of how for the moment. There was only so much information she could process at one time.

Damian stared at the nondescript wooden door of the farmhouse. “This is the eastern entrance to my…” He bit back his words, a brief flash of pain crossing his face. “The enclave.”

“Here? In the middle of nowhere, North Dakota?” She whipped out her arm and motioned at the barren landscape to emphasize her point.

His lips curled in a quirk of humor. “Yeah, doesn’t seem like a very smart choice.” He scanned the empty, cold land, a blank look holding his face. “When we first came to this land, it was wild and free, nothing but open space. Two thousand years ago, the entire continent was unclaimed. The location was chosen because of what it provided.”

She stifled a shiver. When he didn’t continue, she prompted, “And?”

He looked back at her. “And it suited our needs. Here,” he said, removing his long, wool coat and holding it open for her.

She lifted an eyebrow, doubting his sudden kindness.

“You’re freezing.” He lifted the coat slightly. “Please, put this on. It is not my intent to freeze you to death.”

Reluctant to trust his motivation, she was too logical to stand there shivering when a warm, winter coat was being offered. She turned and quickly shoved her arms into the waiting coat and tightened it around her. Instantly the shaking in her limbs stilled. His lingering warmth surrounded her and brought with it the faint hint of pine that she was beginning to associate with him.

Once again, he gently, almost reverently, pulled her long hair out from where it was trapped between the coat and her back letting it run through his fingers until it hung free. The soft caress sent whispers of pleasure coursing over her scalp and down her spine.

Unnerved by his kindness, she jerked away from his touch and spun back around, eyeing him warily. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his pants, but otherwise showed no outward effect of being exposed to the cold weather. Evidently, the black wool suit jacket was warmer than it looked.

“Where did you get the stone?” he demanded softly.

She hesitated, her fist clenching tighter around the object in question, before admitting, “It was given to me.”

“By whom?”

“Does it matter? It’s mine,” she reasserted.

“Yes, it matters.”

She remained silent since divulging all of her secrets didn’t seem smart. After a second, he sighed.

“We need to contain the energy before it calls more—” He paused abruptly and looked around. He reached into his pocket and extended the gold ring that he’d pulled from the box earlier. “Here.”

Her confusion must have shown on her face. He pointed to the chain dangling below her fist that clenched the stone. “Put it on.”

“What?”

“The stone is attached to a chain. Put it on.”

“Why?” Her eyes narrowed, her suspicion rising.

“To keep it safe.”

With slow, hesitant movements, she grasped the chain then lifted it over her head, the whole time keeping her gaze firmly on him. When the chain was around her neck, she reached back to lift her hair out from under the links then adjusted the scarf until the chain rested gently against her neck, the stone nestled between the rounded swell of her breasts.