“He murdered Dendera and sabotaged our equipment. I need suits and tanks. Guard the hell out of that container. I think he was working with somebody who wants the contents badly. He had to have expected to disappear fast otherwise he never would have tried to pull this stunt. Call Carling, Julian and the tribunal, and update everybody. Get someone to comb the tunnels underneath San Francisco. Trace every step that fucker made when he went into the city during shore leave. In fact, trace every step that fucker has made in the last three months.” He took a deep breath and roared, “Where’s my equipment?”
They came running with two spare suits and tanks. Then Brendan, who was captain of the yacht in his absence, said, “Just so you know, all the research teams have reported back. Their reports are sitting on your desk.”
“What?” Sebastian stared at him, for a moment not connecting at all to what the other man was saying. “Forget about all that.”
He hooked his arms through straps on the tanks, grabbed the suits and dove into the water again. He had to get back to the island as fast as he could.
His mate needed him.
Chapter Ten
When Olivia opened her eyes, she lay in her bed in the manor house. Faded sunlight streamed into the window, touching the edges of things inside the room one last time before disappearing for another night. A bright fire crackled in the hearth.
Sebastian slumped in an armchair beside the bed. His head rested against the back of the chair, his eyes closed.
She was quite free from pain, clean and warm, and tucked under blankets. Then she tried to move, and her heart leaped into a rapid, skittish tempo. Her mouth dried out, and her head swam. A saline bag hung from one of the bedposts, the line running to an IV taped to the back of her left hand.
Sebastian’s eyes flared open. He straightened and leaned over her.
She had grown used to the strange black-and-amber pattern in his eyes. He looked so tired, worn and worried. “Don’t try to move around too much,” he said. “You’ve lost a lot of blood.”
“Dendera,” she said.
“I’m sorry.” He stroked her face.
Moisture flooded her eyes. She nodded and turned her face away.
The chair creaked as he shifted. Then the bed tilted as he sat on the edge. He planted his hands flat on the mattress on either side of her head and leaned closer. “Hey,” he said. “Look at me.”
As always, he pulled her to him. She could never turn away from him. She looked up. His hard face looked even more haggard at that angle, the fire throwing strong, flickering bands of light and shadow across the room.
He told her softly, “You know we need to talk, don’t you?”
Her mouth shook. She didn’t trust herself to speak, so she just nodded again. Why would he bring that up now, of all times?
He stroked her hair. “In fact,” he said, “I’ve been planning on talking to you for a while. I was just waiting for the right time. And this is not the right time at all, so naturally I want to take full advantage of that.”
She blinked several times. “I don’t understand. What do you mean?”
He smiled. There was something remarkably patient, clear-eyed and ruthless about him in that moment. “I love you,” he said. “And I believe you love me.”
She whispered, “Yes.”
Gently, gently he bent down and brushed her lips with his. “Then this is what we’re going to do. You’re going to marry me. We’ll winter in Jamaica and live the rest of the year in Louisville. You will work part-time at your job. I will work part-time running my company, and Bailey will take over the rest. We’ll have children—I think two would be nice—and we’ll have plenty of time to take care of them. And we’ll travel sometimes, but mostly we’ll stay at home, and if I go blind, I will find an avian Wyr who will fly with me sometimes—”
“That’s not going to happen,” she interrupted.
“I understand, but if it does…”
“It won’t.”
He cocked his head and looked exasperated. “I am trying to make a point here.”
In spite of everything that had happened and the dizziness that still swam in her mind, she had to smile. “And what point is that?”
“That we can meet every challenge ahead of us if we do it together.”
Her smile turned into a chuckle, while happiness began to take root. “Is that what you were saying underneath all of those orders?”
“They were statements of fact, not orders,” he said. He touched her cheek lightly with the backs of his fingers. “And we’re not really having that talk, not while you’re injured and exhausted. That would be insensitive of me. Besides, it’s too soon. I’m merely making things easy for you by laying everything out ahead of time.”
Her chuckle turned into a helpless ghost of a laugh. “All of that was preparation for the talk we’re going to have someday?”
“Exactly.”
“Well, that’s good to know, because it is too soon for all of it,” she whispered. “I can look forward to the fact that when we do have that talk at the appropriate time, you will actually propose with a question and a ring, and not a statement of fact.”
His expression went blank. “A ring.”
It occurred to Olivia that she had recently grown to care about more than one creature that wasn’t housebroken. That was when her meager strength petered out. She closed her eyes. “Goodnight, Sebastian.”
“Sleep well, my love.”
He kissed her forehead, and that was the last thing she remembered for a long time.
Of course, things were not as simple and as straightforward as the talk they planned on having one day. She slept, woke and drank some warm broth, and slept some more. Sebastian was always present when she opened her eyes. Derrick checked on her a few times through the day, and by the next evening he had removed the IV.
She had to work through the memory of the attack, and the shock of witnessing Dendera’s murder. Sebastian was there for that too. He held her as she wiped her eyes and talked through the worst of it.
Olivia could not make the underwater crossing until she had recovered from the chest injury and could complete a few basic exercises, like walk a mile in under twelve minutes. She was healthy, though, not only in body but in spirit, and she rebounded quickly.
Soon she could sit in the main hall in the evenings and visit with Derrick, Tony and Bailey. Then she could take short walks. She shooed Sebastian back to work, while she sat in the sun and read the light novels they brought to her.
In the meantime, the other four worked hard. They transported the part of the collection that Olivia, Dendera and Steve had already packed. Time passed more quickly on Earth, so every time they made the crossing there was more news.
Steve had been taken into official custody. Through emails, phone calls and bank account records, investigators discovered that, after Carling had completed background checks and hired everybody, a private collector from South America had approached him with a two-million-dollar bribe and a wish list of items. Shortly after that, the collector was taken into custody and extradited to the Elder tribunal in the States for prosecution.
With the approval of the tribunal, Carling hired a new team of symbologists to finish packing the library. “You are also certainly welcome to stay and finish working on the job if you so choose,” Carling wrote in a letter to Olivia, which Bailey delivered one afternoon. “But even if you do, you will need help, and besides, I want for you to have the freedom to come home if you should wish.”
Olivia was tempted briefly, mostly because she refused to let another person’s actions drive her away from what she loved to do. But, the truth be told, she had grown a little weary of the adventure.
What finalized her decision, however, was when Bailey handed Sebastian a sealed packet in silence. He tore the packet open and looked through the contents quickly. Afterward, he set the papers on the kitchen table and walked out of the house, into the overgrown vegetable garden.
Bailey and Olivia looked at each other soberly. Then Olivia picked up the first report and scanned it. “Sorry to say, this approach to breaking the curse is not a feasible one…”
She set it aside and picked up the next one. “I’m afraid we found no realistic avenue in the indigenous magic system that would alleviate what has been done…”
And a third. “I cannot express in words how difficult it is to tell you that we found nothing…”
She stopped reading, pushed away from the table and walked outside to look for Sebastian. She found him standing at the edge of the cliff, his hands on his hips as he stared out over the water. He looked severe, unapproachable, his back stiff and his face like stone, but she didn’t let any of that stop her.
She walked up beside him and slipped an arm around his waist. “Of course this is not the appropriate time to have that talk that we’ve been planning, so let me tell you how things are going to be,” she said gently. “Then we will talk about it when the time is right. You will propose to me with a beautiful diamond ring, because I have my heart set on it. When we get married, I will wear the dress of my dreams, because I have my heart set on that as well. You are going to wear a tuxedo-gray morning suit, and Bailey is going to be your best person, so you need to remember to ask her soon. But first, right now, you and I are quitting this job. You are going to delegate the rest of it, and we are going to cross over, go to Florida and consult with Grace. And we are going to start facing our challenges together.”
The tension in his body eased somewhat as she spoke. He slipped an arm around her shoulders as he said, “You’re not ready to scuba dive.”
“I am too,” she told him. “I can walk a mile.”
He shook his head. “I don’t believe you’re under twelve minutes yet.”
“It doesn’t matter. I’m close enough.” When he opened his mouth to argue, she covered his lips with one hand. “It’s a brief trip. Derrick will come with us, and he’ll monitor me the whole time. Sebastian, it’s time to go.”
He looked at her with so much pain in his cursed eyes.
It broke her heart. She loved him so very much.
So they would come full circle, back to Florida. It was not quite where everything had begun, but it was where the most important thing had begun—it was where they had first met.
Sebastian refused to let her swim at all during the crossover, and when she protested, Derrick backed him up until she threw up her hands and let them have their way. While she forced herself to remain passive, Sebastian held her in his arms and did all the work.
In the end she was grateful for it. Breathing from the oxygen tank seemed to take much more effort than it had the first time. Her chest ached, and the dry air irritated her lungs.
On the other side of the crossing, she sensed Phaedra’s presence a split second before the Djinn surrounded her and the world fell away. When reality solidified again, she and Phaedra were standing on the deck of the yacht. While water streamed off Olivia’s wetsuit, Phaedra looked perfectly dry.
One of the crew members shouted a greeting from the pilot’s cabin. She waved at them. Then she removed her mouthpiece, pushed back her mask and took a deep breath of fresh air as she looked around her. Sebastian was nowhere to be seen.
Angling out her jaw, she said, “You forgot Sebastian, dimwit.”
Phaedra shrugged, her eyes narrowed. “I didn’t forget him. He knows how to swim.”
She sighed. “In any case, you’ve got to stop transporting people without their permission.”
“I don’t see why,” said Phaedra as she crossed her arms. “Sometimes it can be quite useful.”
Olivia pinched her nose. Now she knew from personal experience why Grace had said, Oh I don’t know why I bother.
Phaedra studied her. The Djinn’s expression turned serious. “You are better now? The damage has repaired itself?”
“More or less,” she said. She shrugged out of the heavy oxygen tank and left it on the deck as she walked to the railing to watch for Sebastian.
Phaedra walked to her side and touched her shoulder. As Olivia looked at her, Phaedra said simply, “I’m glad.”
Surprise softened her irritation. She reached up to touch Phaedra’s hand. The Djinn did not pull away from her overture. Wow, she thought. It made Phaedra seem almost warm and cuddly.
They both watched as Sebastian exploded to the water’s surface. He sliced through the water and climbed up the hull ladder. Olivia looked from his furious expression to Phaedra’s impervious one. She decided she did not need to be a part of their upcoming conversation, so she left to shower and change into street clothes.
Sebastian had been tempted to ask Phaedra for a ride to Florida, but after her latest stunt, he refused to even consider it. Instead, he chartered a plane and they spent the flight mostly in silence. He bought a pile of newspapers and magazines, and they passed the time looking through everything. Three months had passed on Earth.
At one point, Olivia said, “This is the strangest, worst case of jet lag I’ve ever experienced, and that’s not even taking into account traveling from coast to coast.”
“It can take a couple of weeks to re-acclimate,” he said, his voice toneless. The ground glass was back in his chest, and even that much conversation was an effort. He thought she understood, because she took one of his hands between hers and didn’t say anything more.
Once they landed in Miami, they took a car service to Grace and Khalil’s house.
Olivia had called ahead, so they knew that Grace and Khalil waited at home for their arrival. Sebastian’s heart began to pound as the car pulled up to the front of an attractive ranch house. They climbed out. He reached for Olivia’s hand as they walked up the path, and she squeezed his fingers.
When he rang the doorbell, a pretty, titian-haired young woman answered the door. She rushed forward and threw her arms around Olivia, and the two women murmured to each other as they hugged.
A massive male Djinn walked up beside them. Khalil had white, regal features, long raven hair held back with a strip of leather and those typical, piercing, diamond-like eyes. Phaedra looked a lot like her father.
“Come in,” Grace said. She kept an arm around Olivia’s waist as she said, “I asked Atefeh and Ebrahim to babysit Max and Chloe so we could have time to ourselves without the children. I have been so worried about you. Are you really better?”
“Almost a hundred percent,” said Olivia with a small smile.
The ground glass in Sebastian’s chest shifted, cutting at him. His voice was harsh as he said, “You know why we’re here. I need to petition you.”
Khalil frowned, but Grace turned to Sebastian immediately. Even though her face was young, her hazel gaze was filled with a kind of compassion that seemed ageless. “Please, come sit and talk with me,” she said.
Somehow there was an indefinable yet essential shift in Power, and it was the Oracle that spoke to him.
Sebastian followed her to a gleaming oak dinner table with six matching chairs, set in front of ceiling high windows that looked over the ocean. The Oracle sat at one end of the table, and gestured for Sebastian to sit at her right. He complied, while Olivia and Khalil remained several steps away, present but not participating.
The Oracle said, “Tell me your story.”
It poured out of him in a convulsive rush, while she listened in silence. Finally he stopped speaking and watched her.
The Oracle frowned, her gaze unfocused, and rubbed the polished surface of the table with her fingertips. Then her lips moved silently. She looked for all the world as if she were talking to herself.
Sebastian clenched his hands into fists.
He thought, This is where she tells me there is no hope. This is the final answer to my question.
Suddenly he couldn’t bear to wear his sunglasses for one more moment. He tore them off and flung them across the room. They shattered to pieces against the opposite wall.
The peripheral vi
sion on his right side was almost completely gone, but he still sensed the Djinn shifting in unfriendly reaction.
Then the Oracle’s expression underwent a drastic change.
“Khalil,” she bit out. “Please retrieve that shrunken head from Jamaica for me, will you?”
“As you wish,” said the Djinn. His physical form dissipated, and he blew away.
Sebastian and Olivia had no time to do anything other than exchange one mystified look. Then Khalil returned again to place the shrunken head in the Oracle’s hands, his expression filled with distaste.
The Oracle spoke again, silently. This time she appeared to be arguing. Her expression flashed with anger. She slapped a flattened hand on the table and barked out, “You will obey!”
Her Power shifted. To Sebastian’s magical sense, she seemed to reach out, grasp hold of an insubstantial something and shake it.
The next voice that poured out of her mouth was not hers. The rapid words it spoke were not English, but an indigenous language that was, to Sebastian, all too familiar.
Before he could react, Power flared out of the shrunken head. It cut through him like a saber and blasted him out of his chair.
Then with a snap, the Power disappeared.
Disoriented, his head ringing, Sebastian struggled to his hands and knees. Dimly he became aware that Olivia had fallen to her knees beside him. She flung her arms around him. “Are you all right?”
“I don’t know,” he heard himself say.
Nearby, Grace said in horror, “Oh my God, I really am holding a shrunken head.”
The Djinn said in a gentle voice, “Yes, Gracie. I will just remove that object from this house forever, shall I?”
“Pleeeeeassse.”
Olivia cupped Sebastian’s face. Her hands were shaking. “Sebastian, look at me.”
He tried to focus on her. Everything in his head throbbed.
“Your eyes,” she whispered. “The black—it’s all gone.”
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