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Gift of Fire

Page 24

by Jayne Ann Krentz


  “What’s strange? Here, put on a jacket, that passage gets cold. You’ve got to keep the baby warm.” He tossed her the parka.

  “What’s strange,” Verity said as she put of the parka, “is that two people who have a direct link with this villa have gotten into serious trouble here. Digby was murdered, and Elyssa was almost killed.”

  “You’re right—it is strange. Ready?” Jonas was already at the wall, moving aside the tapestry to operate the door mechanism.

  Verity followed more slowly. “What are we going to do tonight?”

  “We’re going to look for that room that appears in the vision of the man sitting at the desk. I’ve scoured every inch of this villa during the past few days, and I haven’t found a single room that matches the one in that image.”

  “So you figure it’s hidden somewhere in this passageway?” Verity shivered at the cold draft that swept out from the dank tunnel.

  “I think it’s possible this passage leads to it. Tonight we’ll find out. Bring along that broken sword hilt in case we need to access the vision again.”

  “I want you to know I don’t really approve of this, Jonas. Something tells me we’re making a mistake.” She picked up the rusted scrap of metal.

  “The only mistake I’m probably making is in taking you along.”

  “I won’t let you go without me,” she insisted.

  “Just be sure you follow orders. You know the drill. Stay behind me and don’t touch anything.”

  “Just like taking a little kid through a department store,” she muttered. “Don’t touch anything.”

  “When little Jonas Junior comes along we’ll get to find out about things like that, won’t we? I can see us now you, me, and the kid doing all kinds of stuff together.”

  “What if it’s a little Verity Junior?” Verity said saucily. But it warmed her heart to hear him talking about the three of them as a family.

  “I’m not picky,” Jonas said generously. “Are you okay? Seems colder than usual in here tonight.”

  “It’s gotten quite cold outside. Probably another storm on the way. I hope Doug and Oliver get back before it hits tomorrow. Jonas, I’m going to be very glad to get off this island. The bloom is off the rose of consulting work, as far as I’m concerned. I’ll have to think very carefully before I sign you up for another job.”

  “You do that, boss.”

  They followed the trail of old footprints and the ones they themselves had left as far as the entrance to the torture chamber. Jonas pointed the flashlight straight ahead and kept going.

  “Not that I wouldn’t like to stop and tarry awhile in that chamber,” he told Verity. “I’ve got fond memories of that seduction scene you pulled in there.”

  “Honestly, Jonas, I’d rather you didn’t remind me.” Verity was embarrassed at the memory of her sexual aggression. She didn’t want to admit to herself how carried away she had gotten.

  “Why not?” he taunted. Then he chuckled. “I know what’s bothering you. I’ll bet you don’t think that sort of behavior is proper for a pregnant lady. Such a little prude.”

  Verity chose not to respond. There wasn’t much you could say to a man who had such satisfied glee in his voice.

  The stone corridor wound deeper into the bowels of the villa. Verity lost all sense of direction. It was impossible to tell what wing they were in or how deep underground they were. She huddled into her parka, grateful that Jonas had made her bring it along.

  “Well, hell,” Jonas said a few minutes later. He sounded disgusted.

  Verity nearly collided with him when he came to an abrupt halt in front of her. She peered around him and saw that the passage ended in a stone wall. “Oh no!” she cried. “You mean it just ends? After all this running around down here, the passage just comes to an end? It’s not fair.”

  “Maybe things got screwed up when they reconstructed the villa here on the island,” Jonas suggested. He pointed the flashlight downward. “Ah, here we go. The footprints disappear into the wall. What we’ve got here is another door. All we have to do is find the mechanism that opens it. Stand back, honey. This should be a piece of cake.”

  But it was not a piece of cake. It took Jonas nearly half any hour to find the hidden lock mechanism. It wasn’t the same design as the others, and it had been embedded in the floor instead of the wall.

  “Here we go,” he said finally. He was down on his knees, his fingers probing between two stones. There was a grinding noise from the wall in front of them.

  Verity caught her breath as Jonas activated the mechanism. A wave of dank, fetid air burst from the slowly opening stone doorway. Jonas stepped back out of the way and pulled Verity with him.

  “Jonas, what if we’re about to uncover a pile of Florentine gold coins or a basket of jewels?” Verity asked breathlessly. “We’ll be able to send the kid to Harvard.”

  “No kid of mine is going to Harvard,” Jonas vowed. “We’ll worry about how to spend the goodies after we find them. You ready?” He moved toward the entrance and shone the flashlight into a small, square room.

  Verity came up behind him and followed the light. She was immediately assailed by an overpowering sense of déjà vu. This was the room she had seen last night when she had worn her new earrings, during the second psychic-awareness session.

  “Jonas, I know this room. I’ve seen it. There should be a black chest in here somewhere.”

  “Christ. You’re right. There it is.”

  A massively carved stone chest squatted in the corner of the cell-like room. Jonas went toward it cautiously.

  “It must be safe enough to approach it, Jonas. The footsteps go up to it and come back.” Verity didn’t like the look of the black chest, though. It resembled a coffin. Her earrings felt very warm against her cheeks. “It’s the chest we see in the vision, isn’t it? The one with the heaps of gold coins and gems in it.”

  Jonas reached the chest and examined it from all angles. “The lock is open. Let’s see what’s inside.”

  “Jonas, be careful.” Verity lost her nerve. A rush of anxiety came over her. “Don’t touch it. I don’t think we should open it. Forget Harvard, there are plenty of good state universities. Let’s get out of here.”

  She spoke too late. Jonas raised the lid of the black chest. In spite of her fear, Verity couldn’t resist going closer to see what was inside.

  “Empty,” she said in mingled disappointment and relief. “Damn. I wonder if whoever killed Digby cleaned it out.”

  “Probably. Still, this chest alone will be worth a fortune to some museum. Take a look at the carving. It’s magnificent. Too bad it belongs to Doug and Elyssa. All we’re going to get out of this is a consulting fee.” Jonas looked up, his features stark in the glow of the flashlight. “Let me have that sword hilt.”

  Verity’s hand tightened around the broken sword handle. “Why?” she demanded suspiciously.

  “I want another look at that vision of the man at the desk. I want to see if this is the room he was sitting in.”

  “I’m sure it is. But I’m not sure we should mess around with that particular vision. There’s something very weird about it.”

  Impatiently he reached out and took the chunk of metal from her. So much for trying to give good advice, Verity thought as the walls of the dark cell began to curve around them. People like Jonas rarely listened to good advice.

  Verity held her breath as the image shimmered and took form. Her earrings were turning hot against her skin. She started to remove them, staring at the vision of the man as she did so. Whoever he was, he had been capable of violence, she thought suddenly. She could see that much in the forbidding lines of his aristocratic features and the malevolent glare of his frozen eyes.

  The small, green, egg-shaped crystal on the desk seemed to pulse gently in the reflected glow of the flashlight. But that was
impossible, Verity reminded herself. The images produced in the psychic corridor never reacted to outside illumination. They existed independently in time and space.

  Verity cried out softly as her earrings became so hot they seemed to burn her fingers.

  And then she knew.

  “Jonas,” she whispered. “The crystal. The one on his desk. It’s still here in the villa. It’s somewhere nearby. I’m sure of it.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  “What makes you think the crystal is still around here?” Jonas studied the frozen image in front of them. The sharp planes of his face were illuminated by the poisonous green glow of the vision.

  “I’m not sure. I get the feeling the crystal on that desk is trying to connect with itself in real time. It’s as if it tried my earrings and they didn’t quite work. It sounds crazy, I know.” Verity shook her head. She was experiencing a disturbing sense of unreality. It was different from the feeling she usually had while in the psychic corridor.

  “Nothing about this image makes much sense,” Jonas said. “That’s what bothers me. It’s just not a normal time-corridor film clip. I’ve got to find out what the hell is going on here, Verity. I can’t leave this place until I know what this is all about.”

  “It isn’t even a scene of violence. You only pick up scenes of violence.”

  “But I tune it in by using an object associated with violence. That part is normal enough.”

  Verity edged backward a step. “It’s almost as if the violence is about to happen, but hasn’t yet taken place.”

  “Damn. Verity, I think you’re right. That’s it. That’s the answer. We’re looking at the scene an instant or two before the action took place. This guy was probably sitting at his desk when someone walked in and killed him.”

  “But why aren’t we catching the actual death scene? Why would we pick up on it a few seconds before it occurs?”

  “I don’t know, but I’ve got to find out. I can feel the sense of warning emanating from this thing. It’s as if that guy is just sitting there daring me to try to get at him.”

  “Or daring you to uncover his treasure,” Verity offered, glancing around at the barren cell. “Obviously he doesn’t realize someone else has already gotten to it.”

  Jonas walked to the chest and ran his palm along the heavily carved lid. “I’m not so sure the treasure is gone.”

  “Jonas, don’t do that,” Verity said, watching the image uneasily.

  “Don’t touch the chest? Why?”

  “I swear his eyes are following you again.”

  “Just an optical illusion,” he said absently.

  Verity bit her lip, studying the image. The chest was still there behind the man, filled with treasure. “Why wasn’t this room discovered when the villa was taken apart and shipped over here?”

  “Who knows? Digby says in his diary that his relative had huge chunks of the villa left intact and transported that way. This room is small enough that it might have been shipped as a single unit. Maybe no one was even aware there was an opening behind these walls. It could look like a solid block of stone from the outside. Or it’s possible Digby’s crazy relative did find the room and the chest, and ordered it reconstructed exactly as it was. In which case, he’s probably the one who got the treasure, although he never admitted it to anyone. Eccentric was a mild term for Digby’s side of the family, apparently.”

  “But the rest of the furnishings were all sold off. I can’t believe someone would have overlooked that valuable chest.”

  “Digby didn’t know about the chest. At least not until the end of his life. Then again, maybe the chest is still here because someone wanted it left alone.”

  “Who?”

  “The guy in the vision?” Jonas suggested softly. “Digby came to the conclusion that the treasure, whatever it was, might be protected with a curse. It was one of the last entries in his diary.”

  Verity closed her eyes. “Jonas, don’t talk like that. We’re not in the business of removing curses from haunted houses. You’re a consultant, not a ghost hunter. You authenticate things. You do nifty little articles on the historical significance of old weapons and villas, and maybe an occasional treasure. That’s it. End of job description.”

  “It’s here, Verity. I know it is.” Apparently Jonas was not paying much attention.

  “What’s here?” she demanded, scowling in the darkness. “The treasure.”

  “Are you nuts? It’s gone. The chest is empty. Someone has already been in here and scarfed up the lot. And then he casually knifed poor Digby on the way out the door.”

  “You said you knew the crystal was still around,” Jonas reminded her softly.

  Verity was still holding her warm red crystal earrings. She glanced at the crystal on the desk in the vision and it seemed to wink at her. “That’s different,” she said with great certainty.

  “No, it’s not. You know the crystal is still here in the villa and I know the treasure is still here. Whatever that guy was trying to protect is still locked away, safe and sound.”

  “You’re a tough man to argue with,” Verity said with a sigh. She knew he was experiencing the same sense of certainty as she felt. There was no way to contradict such a feeling with logic. “Okay, for the sake of discussion, let’s say you’re right. What do we do now?”

  “I’ve got to talk Doug Warwick into letting us stay here awhile longer,” Jonas said, moving back across the room to stand beside her. They both gazed at the image. The menacing man at the desk gazed back implacably. “I have a strong hunch he’ll want to call a halt to everything when he returns tomorrow.”

  “Can’t blame him. As you said, he’s got what he wants, an authentication and a professional description of the villa for his buyers. Now that Elyssa’s more or less out of the picture, Doug’s not going to want to spend any more time humoring her interest in psychic phenomena.”

  “I’ve got to find out what’s going on here, Verity. I need to know what that guy in the vision thought was so important he had to lock it away in time.”

  Verity turned her head to stare at Jonas. “You think he’s locked it in time? That he found a way to store it here in the time corridor or something? Jonas, do you realize what you’re saying? You’re implying the man in the vision had psychic talent.”

  Jonas nodded slowly, his eyes on the old man. “Maybe the same kind I have. Verity, there’s no reason to think I’m the only man on earth who was born with the ability to enter this time tunnel. What if that guy could access it, too? What if he found a way to leave something hidden in it?”

  Verity felt chilled. She clutched her parka more tightly around her. “Now that’s a thought that could very well keep me awake nights.”

  “I have to know, Verity.”

  “Even if it’s dangerous? What if you’re right about the sense of warning you get from this vision?”

  “Booby traps.” Jonas’s half-smile was grim. “The man liked to set traps. A real Renaissance type.”

  “I don’t think I want the father of my baby springing any of those traps,” Verity said.

  “I’ll be careful.”

  “Oh yeah?” She didn’t believe him for a moment. “Jonas, I think we should call it quits.”

  “I have to find out what this is all about. I have to know the truth.”

  She knew that further argument was hopeless, so she stopped wasting her energy in that direction. “Do you think you can talk Doug into letting you stay?”

  “I’ll find a way.” Jonas spoke with absolute conviction. “Come on, let’s get back to the room. We can’t do any more tonight. We’re going to need that crystal.” Jonas handed the broken sword hilt over to Verity. The vision and the psychic corridor vanished. “Can you realty sense it?”

  “The crystal? Yes.” Verity thought about it as she followed Jonas out of the small
room. “I don’t know where it is, though. I just got the strong feeling that it’s here in the villa.” She fingered her earrings. “There might be a way...”

  “How?” Jonas cut in eagerly.

  “Oliver knows a lot about crystals. When he and I worked them together I could feel things. Jonas, I don’t know. I honestly don’t know what I’m doing. But it’s just barely possible that Oliver could help me tune in to that missing crystal.”

  “I don’t want Crump involved in this,” Jonas stated flatly as he led the way back down the corridor.

  Verity glared at his back. “Why not?”

  “Because I don’t want him getting any ideas.”

  “Ideas about what?”

  Jonas halted abruptly and swung around. He was a dark, powerful mass behind the harsh beam of the flashlight. Verity could feel the masculine aggression and possessiveness radiating from him. When he spoke, his voice was cold. “I don’t want him getting the idea that you’re some kind of psychic pal for him; that he can use you to help him tune in to those damn crystals he’s always playing with. Got it?”

  Suddenly Verity understood. She angled her chin in angry challenge. “You mean you don’t want him using me the way you do?”

  For an instant she thought she’d gone too far. In the shadows Jonas’s eyes seemed to gleam like those of a predator. The stone passageway was suddenly more confining than ever, and Verity was trapped inside it. She held her breath but she never lowered her eyes from Jonas’s hard face.

  It was Jonas who broke the dangerous impasse. “Right,” he said very quietly. “I don’t want him using you the way I do. I don’t want any man on the face of the earth using you the way I do. I’m glad we understand each other.” He swung around and started back down the corridor.

  Verity followed, wishing she’d kept her mouth shut. She was determined not to say another word until the storm of Jonas’s anger had blown over. Sometimes a woman had to bide her time.

  Jonas stopped at the door that opened onto the torture chamber. Silently he found the opening mechanism and manipulated it until the door creaked open.

 

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