Surrender (THE DRAGONFLY CHRONICLES) (2 page)

“Dragonfly…hmm,” she murmured to Tuto, her owl, perched motionless in the birch tree near the wall. The great horned owl turned his head in a fluid twist and pierced the night with a hoot. She smiled at her friend and stood, stretching. “Anthony is trying to lure me to Egypt again.” She sighed. She hated to disappoint her father, but nothing would get her underground again, not even death. She’d had it written that her body was to be entombed above ground or burned like a Celt or Viking. That would surely give the stuffy parlors and salons something to titter about.

Kailin exhaled and drew the pins from her long hair, letting it relax down around her shoulders. She stepped off the balcony through French doors and into her sanctuary, the only room she longed to be in. Kailin glanced at the vast number of glass windows set into her round walls, all open to circulate the breezes and give the occupant the distinct feeling of being outside.

Kailin sat down on the end of her large bed in the center of the room and glanced up at the painted mural of the sky. Several real birds roosted along the beams. Anthony had refused to install glass above her in case Kailin shattered it during a tantrum or nightmare, stabbing her underneath. So he’d had a mural commissioned for her to sleep under on rainy nights.

Kailin rolled her shoulders before willing the tiny buttons down her back to unhitch. The many ties and hooks opened with barely a thought and she stepped out of her gown and petticoat. Yes, Anthony had quickly seen that in order to keep his house in one piece he needed to create a safe haven for his unusual ward. Luckily he’d fallen in love with her as quickly as she had with him. Only his love for dusty mummies could draw him away from his beloved Cleo.

Kailin bathed with the tepid water piped up to her own en suite water closet and changed into a fresh white sleeping gown. She shook her head at the luxuries around her. After two months in the field, studying the monoliths on the coast of Scotland, her home felt like an overly plush palace.

Kailin brushed snarls from her hair and studied the night outside her balcony doors. Tuto soared by like a slice of moonlight with a mouse in his talons. Kailin left the walls of her room and stepped into the cooling, unhindered breath of darkness. The stars blinked above in the inky void. She picked out the constellations that she’d memorized growing up. Gemini, the twins; Cassiopeia, the queen; Pegasus, the winged horse; and Perseus, the hunter. She traced their forms into the legendary heroes and monsters. These were her friends, besides Tuto.

Her uncaught thought scattered old rose petals and debris in the garden below before she could completely rein in the tug of self-pity. She curled up on her outdoor bed and unfolded Anthony’s last letter. Hieroglyphs scrawled across the top border. A bird over another shape with a foot. The sign for life and then a serpent over a half circle and line.

“Life forever,” she murmured and dropped her gaze to Anthony’s smooth handwriting.

Dearest Cleo,

I’ve been so blind. The Orb of Life is more powerful than we could imagine and it seems the world around me is after it. I’m beginning to think that it should never be found. Unfortunately I’m pretty close to unearthing it. And I think it’s known. I’m being watched. I’m certain.

Cleo, you were so young when you found me. Do you remember it at all except for the parts that have plagued your nightmares? The mummy king we found robbed and without name? I believe he was but a guard, protecting his king and the orb. If I can dig my way down to him again, it will lie there. But perhaps I should endeavor to turn in another direction all together.

I miss your keen decisions, my clever girl, your logical mind over what is right and wrong. I think perhaps I will come home to you soon. My bones are weary of all this intrigue.

My love always,

Anthony

Kailin read the letter three times in the fierce glow of the oil lamp before she realized the flames were blackening the glass globe. She tethered her magic and the fire reduced to normal, but she couldn’t tether her concern. Anthony was in trouble, more trouble than he wrote. For her father was exceedingly relaxed, a happy chap who was rarely ruffled. Giving up when he was so close to finding the biggest treasure of his life?

“What have you gotten yourself into?” she whispered and turned her head toward the rose trellis. Dousing the beacon that spotlighted her in the darkness, Kailin listened. A snap, a movement? Mayhap Bruce scouted the grounds before bed. Or an animal stalked its dinner. She forced herself to breathe evenly, a trick to control herself.

A face appeared over the balcony rail. A man! Without conscious thought, Kailin jumped out of bed and hurled her magic at him. She gasped and forgot to exhale as she stared in terror. Not at the man, not at the possible consequences of acting on impulse, but at the unconceivable fact that the man continued to climb over the rail as if nothing had hit him. He jumped down onto her balcony and held out his hands, open palms forward.

“Whoa there. I’m not going to hurt you.” His voice was deep, with an American drawl. “I’m just a messenger.” He wore brown trousers, a white linen shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and a wide-brimmed hat that had slipped to hang against his back. Moonlight glinted off his tawny hair. Broad shoulders tapered down along muscled arms to narrow hips. He must be over six foot two. Kailin’s blood pulsed energy through her.

She drew in a breath and funneled her magic toward him. Leaves and small bits of debris blew past his form, but the man’s wavy hair didn’t even ruffle. Good God! He took a step toward her and she backed up, legs hitting the edge of the bed.

“What are you?” she whispered and glanced around to find a manual weapon.

He stopped, eyes narrowing just slightly like he was trying to understand her question. Then his mouth turned up at the corners as his eyebrows rose. “What am I? Well that’s a new one.” He shook his head. “I’m from the States but I’m a treasure hunter, mostly in Egypt.” He extended his hand as if to shake hers. “I am Jackson, Jackson Black.”

Kailin stared as his words sunk in. Not a devil, not a proclaimed wizard of any type, but still able to block her powers. She tried once more to move him, but he stood there immune. Never before had she encountered someone or something that could stand against her magic. When she didn’t react he withdrew his hand and pulled a piece of paper from his back pocket. His smile vanished.

“I don’t usually sneak into ladies’ bedrooms.” He eyed her outdoor bed but didn’t ask. “But your butler said you’d retired for the night and I couldn’t speak with you until morning.”

“He was correct,” Kailin snapped.

Jackson offered her the folded letter. “But this is something you’ll want to see right away.”

“A letter?”

He placed it in her hands. “You are Kailin Whitaker, daughter of the renowned Dr. Anthony Fitzgerald Whitaker?”

She opened the parchment while funneling her magic into the oil lamp behind her. It flared, casting a splash of light along the crinkled paper.

Kailin’s eyes dashed across the typed words. Her chest gripped hard, holding her breath and her magic in a painful crush of panic. For a moment she forgot about the massive man invading her balcony. Her entire being focused on the horror spelled out in boxy script: Anthony had been kidnapped.

She glanced at Jackson. “Who? Do you—”

He shook his head before she could get her words in the right order. “I don’t know where they are keeping him. We’re friends, your father and I.”

“He’s never mentioned you,” she said and scanned the letter again. Orb? They, whoever they were, wanted the Orb of Life in exchange for her father.

“We dig together. Peers you could say. He talked about you a lot, Kailin. His intelligent, beautiful Kailin.”

Jackson’s mouth formed her name like a caress, but all she could do was stare back at him. “Do you have the orb?” she asked.

He shook his head. “We were hot on the trail of it. Close, but then he just gave up. Said he didn’t want to find it. The next day he was gone and this letter was in his room, addressed to you. I owed it to him to deliver it.”

“Why?” she asked. “Why do you owe it to him?”

Her question made his mouth tighten. “He’s been good to me, let me help him.”

Kailin turned toward her double doors and walked through. Jackson leaned against the door frame but didn’t enter. “I will go.” She yanked her duffle bag from under her indoor bed.

“At first light,” Jackson suggested.

She turned to him, back straight, mouth tight as her shock wore off. “And where will you sleep?”

His eyes took in her bed and his mouth turned up into a lopsided grin that made Kailin’s pulse jump. She frowned over her reaction. No proclaimed devil, but powerful enough to make her heart pound.

“I’m used to camping outside,” he said, tipping his head toward the darkness beyond her oil lamp. “I’ll make do in the gardens.”

She stared for an exaggerated moment, as if his gaze held her captive.
Ridiculous
! She blinked hard and returned to her bag. “I will expect you at dawn, at the front door,” she stressed. His She heard his chuckle faded as he jumped back over the rail.

For once Kailin locked her double doors. She’d sleep inside tonight, not trusting the man lurking in her gardens. Jackson Black. Her eyes narrowed as she ran over his words. A friend of Anthony’s? Not likely. Could she trust him? Absolutely not. The man was immune to her powers. She frowned. But even worse, the man was a liar.

Chapter Two

The breeze blew cool from the west off the Sahara as the sun sank below the banks of the Nile. Soon the scorching temperatures would plummet. Predictable, familiar, accepted. Jackson breathed in the unfettered air that reminded him of the unhindered wind off the prairie land back home. Except at home he could smell thunderstorms from far off, sliding across the flat land. Not something he usually noticed in Egypt. Frogs chirped and water birds rustled near the water’s edge. A small herd of gazelle picked skittishly at the shore, ever watchful of crocs.

He leaned against the outside wall of the main cabin of the small sailing
dahabiah
. The mid-sized vessel blew toward Luxor as fast as possible. The steamer from Alexandria would have been quicker without the wind, but there hadn’t been a cabin available. And although he didn’t mind sleeping on deck, a gentlewoman should. He chuckled darkly at the stars that twinkled above him. At least a normal, needlepointing, bustled-up gentlewoman should.

Jackson’s gaze trailed after his thoughts toward Kailin Whitaker where she stood against the low rail, her bare face in the breeze. Bathed in moonlight, the golden glow on her cheeks paled into a smooth alabaster. She stared up at the stars, much like when he’d seen her that first night on her balcony. Straight and long, her back led up to her slender neck. Kailin’s golden hair twisted in a neat coil at her nape. She’d removed her simple sunhat and gloves at dinner, performing her role with perfect aplomb, the ever rigid Ice Princess of England, every bit as solid and unyielding as the monoliths she studied.

Jackson ran a hand along his stubbled cheek. He suspected that there was a flame burning within the ice, one that if stoked could shatter her practiced reserve. Though she’d only spoken to him when necessary, he’d seen fire in her blue eyes along the trip. How he loved a challenge.

The trek south had churned by rapidly. Jackson smiled at the memory of Kailin’s flight from the house the morning after he’d leapt upon her balcony, the flustered butler trailing her with a scone. The man she called Bruce glared, making it perfectly clear that Jackson would have seen the end of a Browning rifle if Kailin hadn’t insisted that she must leave to save Anthony. She’d also insisted on riding her mare instead of lounging in a carriage. Her small trunk and hearty pace made their departure from England nearly as fast as Jackson’s arrival.

The flap of a wing caught Jackson’s attention as the speckled owl that had followed them along the road shot down through the air to land near Kailin at the rail. She ran one finger down the feathered head. It tipped and tilted sporadically as if listening to the night. She whispered something to it, her musical lower-octave voice, like thick velvet, sending a sizzle down Jackson’s body. The purr of her timbre was seductive, though he doubted she appreciated it. She laughed lightly and the great raptor took off into the darkness. Jackson watched her turn and lean against the rail, and her eyes fell on him in the shadows.

Not to be caught spying, he stepped out, his worn boots striding casually along the weathered planks. “Miss Whitaker.” He inclined his head as he approached. She met his stare and inclined her head before turning back to stare out at the dark, churning water beneath them. A large snap along the shore stirred up a rustle of wings and a few frantic calls as several large herons took off for safer nesting.

Jackson leaned against the same rail, his elbow just a small space away from Kailin’s. “Aren’t you worried”—he indicated the shadowed reeds where the croc had yanked a bird into a death roll underneath—“that your owl will make a meal for a croc?”

“Tuto can take care of himself.” She paused and turned to him so that the wind pushed the stray curls back from her eyes. “He’s as invincible as the pyramids.” She laughed softly as if at some private joke.

The moonlight reflected in her eyes and revealed the silvery curve of her lips. Jackson hesitated. So the ice princess possessed a sense of humor.

“Tuto. Greek, for owl?”

She nodded and turned back to the coursing water. “My father named him when I was a child.”

“When he found you?” he asked softly.

Kailin’s face snapped toward him. Not many people knew that her origins were as mysterious as her seclusion, but he made it a point to find out everything he could when starting a project. It seems he’d struck a chord.

“Yes, Tuto found me and my father,” she purposely misinterpreted. Jackson let it go with a nod. “He’s been with me ever since.”

“He follows you,” Jackson mentioned, his gaze flickering to the owl’s silhouette against the nearly full moon.