“Not if you keep risking your life for no good reason!”
Jason frowned. This was the very reason he’d broken it off with her. He didn’t have the right to fill her life with fear every time he left for work. So he wouldn’t. He’d meant what he’d said. He’d change jobs, do whatever it took, to keep her in his life. But going back for the gun was something he had to do to save them both. Some risks couldn’t be avoided.
He put his hands on her shoulders. “I have to, Beth. We’re too far away from the entrance. They won’t find us if we don’t make some big noise. I’ll be quick. In and out. I’ll hold my breath.”
Beth’s eyes filled with tears. “Fine. But if you’re not back in ten minutes, I’m coming after you.”
Jason shook his head. “You won’t need to.” He meant to kiss her quick and hard, but she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him back with such passion that he lingered. She felt so good pressed against his body, her lips so warm, that it was almost impossible to pull away. His groin was tight when he finally managed to step back. “Hold that thought.” He turned and retraced their steps.
BETH LOOKED AT HER watch. It’s only been three minutes. He isn’t even to the gun yet. She paced to the edge of the light from the shaft and back again, then looked up the little patch of sky. If they’d had Shazzan’s magic rope Jason wouldn’t have had to risk his life. Again.
Seven minutes. He’ll be on his way back now.
Nine minutes. “Where the hell is he?” She paced to the limit of the light, and slightly beyond. “Jason!” she shouted. Then she listened. Nothing. “Jason!” Answer me, godammit!
She stared into the dark. What if he collapsed in the bad air? What if the roof fell on him? In just a few short days he’d become central to her life. Why’d he have to go and be a hero?
Because that’s who he is. And if she was honest with herself, that was part of why she loved him. Even when she’d thought he was just an attorney, she’d known he was the kind of man who was willing to stand up for what was right and take action. She didn’t really want that to change, even if it meant he sometimes took risks.
Could she live with that? Wondering, if he was a few minutes late, if he’d been shot?
He said he’d change jobs—but that could have been the bad air talking.
But he’d asked her to marry him, and he’d repeated his proposal before going to get the gun. That wasn’t bad air. Beth chewed her lips. It scared her how much she wanted what Jason offered. How much she wanted him. Could she let herself fall so completely in love? Loving that way had wrecked her father. And now I know why. But Ellie had said it was worth it.
She looked at her watch. Eleven minutes. He’s late.
Beth shouted again. “Jason!” Then she listened. Had she heard something? Or was she imagining things? “Jason!”
“Polo!” It was faint, but clear.
Beth grinned. Smart ass.
Less than a minute later, Jason walked into the light, one hand feeling his way along the wall. “The flashlight gave out on the way back—”
Beth flung herself at him, stopping his words with her lips.
It was a while before either of them spoke again.
“So is that a ‘yes?’” Jason asked, eventually.
Beth chuckled. She had to give him points for persistence. She leaned back enough to look him in the eye. “Don’t you think we should get out of here before we plan the rest of our lives?”
“Nope. Before I fire this gun in an enclosed space, I want to be sure I can hear your answer.”
Beth imagined going back to her stable, quiet life in Cruces without him. She loved her friends and her job.
But she loved Jason more.
“Yes.”
“Yes!” Jason lifted her off her feet and kissed her until her toes curled. “Now let’s get out of here. I have three bullets. I’ll fire a shot every thirty minutes. Connor will be looking for us by now. This should get his attention.” He stepped into the bottom of the shaft and aimed the gun skyward. “Stand back, and cover your ears. I should be pretty safe shooting straight up, but I don’t know how loose the rock is here.” He put a finger in one ear.
Beth shook her head. “No way I’m going to let you have all the fun.” She plugged one ear, and pressed the other against his chest. Then she covered his other ear with her free hand.
Jason’s laugh rumbled under her ear as he aimed upward.
Two shots and thirty-five minutes later, Beth heard a shout from above. Jason pulled his lips from hers to answer. “Down here!”
Sheriff Connor’s face appeared over the edge of the shaft. “Y’all okay down there?”
Jason tightened his arms around Beth. “Never better.”
THANK YOU!
Thanks for reading VEILED MIRROR. I hope you enjoyed it! Would you like to know when my next book is coming out? You can sign up for my new release newsletter at www.FrankieRobertson.com, follow me on Twitter @FrankiRobertson, or like my Frankie Robertson Facebook page at https://www.facebook.com/pages/Frankie-Robertson.
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And if you’d like to read an excerpt from BETRAYED BY TRUST, which is set in the same Celestial Affairs universe as LIGHTBRINGER, just turn the page.
BETRAYED BY TRUST
Late January, 1979
San Diego, California
I looked up from the keyboard of my DEC 10 computer terminal and smiled as Barry Mackson appeared in the doorway of my windowless, closet-sized office. My office, if it could be called that, had once been a butler’s pantry in the old Victorian that now housed the San Diego chapter of the Trust. A knee hole had been carved into the lower cabinets and I perched on a padded bar stool to key in data on paranormal and occult activity occurring in southern California, Arizona, and New Mexico. There wasn’t much most days, so I also spent a fair amount of time playing Adventure.
Instead of leaning against the wall and proposing an evening stroll along the Embarcadero, or a margarita in Old Town like he usually did, Barry stood rigidly, his fair-haired good looks and up-to-the-minute three piece suit set off by the dark wood of the door frame. I didn’t usually date the guys I work with, but I’d made an exception in Barry’s case. I’d been a little surprised he’d singled me out, but he was just too good looking to say no to for very long. We’d been dating for about a month. Last night his charm and persistence had paid off, and we’d made love. The memory of his smooth broad back under my hands, his heat filling me, shot an arrow of excitement between my thighs. My pulse sped.
Barry flashed the quicksilver grin I found so appealing, but it wavered around the edges, chilling the warmth that was rising in my belly. Clearly he wasn’t thinking about last night, and his next words confirmed it.
“Come with me. Mr. Foxworth wants to meet you.”
That was definitely not what I’d expected him to say and I didn’t even try to hide my shock. “Foxworth?”
Isaac Foxworth was the omnipresent but faceless head of the Trust—at least that’s how it seemed. His presence and influence was felt everywhere, in every decision, even though he wasn’t often seen. He didn’t need to be. All he had to do was make his wishes known and Kincaid and the other directors executed them without question. Mr. Foxworth didn’t often leave his isolated headquarters in Nevada, seldom visited the local chapters, and he certainly didn’t take meetings with lowly data processors like me.
I shut my mouth and fell into step beside Barry, anticipation quickening my pace. “What’s going on?” I asked softly, craning my neck to catch another glimpse of his expression. Even in heels I barely came up to his shoulder. I didn’t want to draw Maria’s attention even though the receptionist had to know Mr. Foxworth was in the building. Maria didn’t gossip. No one who worked for the Trust did and kept their job. But her sharp eyes gave the im
pression that every event she observed was being filed away for future use.
Barry shot me a sidelong glance. “That’s for Mr. Foxworth to say.” His evasive answer only increased my anxiety.
I followed Barry up the curving, dark wood staircase to the second floor, then a narrower, dog-leg flight to the third. His muscular butt was at eye level, distracting me a little from my nerves. He surfed most weekends, and he had the buns and thighs to prove it. I confess, it was partly my desire to squeeze those cheeks that got me into the sack with him. Unfortunately, the view didn’t last. Too soon we were at the top floor.
Betina, Mr. Kincaid’s secretary, said, “They’re expecting you.”
Barry rapped twice on the six panel door, then let me precede him into the chapter director’s office. Dark wainscoting and glass-paned barrister’s bookcases lined the walls. Mr. Kincaid’s broad desk took up most of the space in front of the wide bow window, but he wasn’t sitting behind it. Another man was silhouetted there, his face hard to make out with the afternoon sunlight shining brightly from behind him. A coffee service sat to one side, but he didn’t offer us a cup.
He rose and gestured at the leather club chairs facing him. “Please have a seat Miss Benton, Mr. Mackson.” He didn’t bother introducing himself. He didn’t need to.
I sat, smoothing my suit skirt under my butt in the lady-like way my mother had taught me. Apparently Mr. Foxworth hadn’t heard that Ms. was the preferred form of address for women in the workplace these days, but I wasn’t going to correct him. For a moment he just looked at me in silence, as if he knew what I was thinking, then resumed his seat behind the desk. I fiddled with my MIA bracelet, then stopped myself as I tried not to fidget.
“Are you involved with anyone at the moment, Ms. Benton?”
I barely noticed he’d switched to using Ms. This wasn’t the sort of question an employer ought to ask, but then the Trust wasn’t the usual sort of employer. Somehow I kept myself from glancing at Barry. He knows. Why else would he ask?
“I just recently started seeing someone.” The Trust had no official rule against dating a co-worker, but I saw no reason to invite trouble.
Mr. Foxworth nodded as if that were the correct answer. “And are you a virgin?”
I was glad now that he hadn’t offered coffee. I might have spewed it across the polished mahogany desk. As it was, I gasped and felt myself color. Never in my worst nightmare had I imagined being asked such a question by a man old enough to be my grandfather. A man who could fire both me and Barry with a word. Sunlight backlit his silver hair, giving the impression of a halo, though the arrogance radiating from him didn’t seem in the least angelic. I wished I could see his face, read there what his interest in me was, but ultimately it didn’t matter. I liked my job, and I wanted to keep it, but I wouldn’t be cowed. “That’s none of your business, sir.”
Foxworth chuckled. “Normally, you’d be correct, Ms. Benton, but the Trust has an important project in mind for you, and your answer is pertinent.”
The public face of the Trust was the Foxworth Educational Foundation, a philanthropic organization. It funded scholarships and research grants to several universities. It’s real purpose, however, was to collect information about anomalous, occult, and paranormal events and the individuals involved in such activity. Very few people knew how that information was used, and I wasn’t one of them. My sex life was neither anomalous, occult, nor anything other than normal. Why would Foxworth possibly need to know about it?
Barry touched my hand briefly. “It’s okay, Marianne. I already told Kincaid.”
Horror stole my breath for a moment, and I gaped at Barry, boggled that he would share that with our boss’s boss. “What? Why?”
Barry gave me a weak smile, but didn’t meet my eyes. I returned my attention to Foxworth and tried to pull what dignity I could around me. “So you know I slept with Barry. I won’t deny it. We’re healthy adults. There’s nothing wrong with what we did.”
This was surreal. Why would the head of the Trust come to San Diego for this? Were they about to fire us? But if that was all it was, Kincaid would have done it.
“No, Ms. Benton, your jobs are safe.”
My attention sharpened. This was the second time Foxworth had seemed to read my mind. Was that how he kept such close tabs on everything going on within the Trust?
“Mr Kincaid told me you’ve been sleeping with Mr. Mackson, but I need to learn how comfortable you are with your sexuality. That’s why I’ve asked you these personal questions. Our project requires a discrete young woman who has nevertheless embraced the modern, more progressive cultural attitudes.”
Now I was really confused. He wants a woman who doesn’t think sex needs to be saved for marriage. That described most of the women I’d known in college. What was this all about? I was pretty sure this wasn’t a personal fishing expedition. The sexual vibe wasn’t there, and there were much better ways to find a mistress. I decided to be as direct as he was. “Why?”
“You will not be under any compulsion to accept this assignment. You are free to refuse. However, what I’m about to tell you is quite delicate. Regardless of what you decide, you cannot discuss this with anyone outside the project, not even within the Trust. Do you agree?”
He’d piqued my curiosity. There was no way I could refuse and leave without knowing what this was about. “Yes, of course.”
“You’ve heard of the Golden Path?”
Most of the information I entered into the Trust’s database was from the west coast states, but I still knew about the Path. “Yes, they’re a fraternal organization based in France that likes to use occult trappings in their meetings. They sponsor a children’s medical charity and host an annual fund drive.”
Foxworth nodded. “On the surface, that’s all true. Publicly, they’re the fraternal organization you described. Beneath the surface, however, they’re something quite different.”
“Like the Trust,” I said.
“They are nothing like the Trust.” Foxworth’s tone sharpened with hostility and I retreated into my chair.
He waved his hand as if to brush aside my alarm, and continued in a hard tone. “The Golden Path has been influencing trade and politics in Europe for a thousand years. They’ve hand a finger in every major pie since the turn of the first millennium. They persuaded King Phillip and Pope Clement to exterminate the Templars. They incited Isabella and Ferdinand to destroy the Moors who had preserved mathematics and science though the Dark Ages. The carnage of the Civil War might have been avoided if not for their interference. No. They are nothing like the Trust, Ms. Benton. Never forget that.”
The muscles in Mr. Foxworth’s jaw jumped once, twice, before he continued. “The Trust has long known there was an occult connection to their activities, but we thought they were mostly dabblers, and that their influence was the usual economic and political sort. Only recently have we learned that they’ve been drawing upon a true Power. They’re using an Elemental Spirit, a Gaian, to fuel goals that are becoming increasingly ambitious and alarming. World leaders are being subverted by magic to adopt policies that instigate wars so Le Premier and the other corporations they control can profit from arms sales and raise prices of scarce resources. They’ve used spells to create unnatural outbreaks of disease so they can sell medicines. People are suffering, all for profit and power. Their influence is growing. It’s all quite legal, and quite evil. We need your help to pull the plug on them, to cut them off from the source of their Power.”
My stomach clenched. Politicians were swayed enough by money, what hope did average people have of controlling their own lives if magic was being used to stack the deck against them? What Foxworth was saying was horrible, but what did he expect me to do about it? “How am I supposed to do that? I don’t know magic. I’m not even psychic!”
“Actually, the tests you took when we recruited you show you have a fair amount of latent talent, but that’s not what we need from you now, Marianne. Ma
y I call you that?”
He might as well. He already knew about my sex life. He couldn’t get much more personal. I nodded.
“The Golden Path holds a Gaian captive. Aldwyn is an Elemental Spirit whose strength they’re syphoning to use for their own twisted purposes. He volunteered a fifteen hundred years ago to protect Guinevere’s last surviving child.”
“Guinevere!” I’d thought she and Arthur were the creations of poets.
“That’s the name most know her by. Her actual name was Gwenhwyfar, the white Fey. Arthur was destined to bring order to the world with Guinevere by his side. Unfortunately, their enemies proved too strong. Their first three sons were killed, but Guinevere escaped to a convent, where she bore the last of Arthur’s sons in secret. As Arthur lay dying, the Gaian, Aldwyn, swore to protect his line.”
“But what has this got to do with me?”
“Over the centuries, Arthur’s enemies evolved into The Golden Path, and approximately one hundred and sixty years ago they discovered a way to bind and use Aldwyn’s Power. He’s been serving them unwilling for well over a century. It is our goal to eliminate their unnatural influence in Europe and the middle east. To do that, we need to free Aldwyn and prevent the Path from regaining their hold over him.”
All very interesting, but he still hadn’t answered my question. “What has this got to do with whether I’m a virgin?”
Foxworth pressed his steepled fingers against his pursed lips and considered me for a moment.
I knew I wasn’t going to like what he was about to say.
“Lucius Altesse is the owner of Le Premier Industries.”
I frowned. “I’ve never heard of him.”
“That’s because he prefers to keep a low profile. Altesse lets the CEOs of his various corporations take the limelight. He doesn’t need or want the public’s interest. He’s one of the Circle of Five, and the man who personally holds Aldwyn in thrall. He’s guarded both by magic and by mercenaries.
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