Crystal Shadows

by Joy Nash

  CRYSTAL SHADOWS

  An Ellora’s Cave Publication, November 2004

  Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.

  1337 Commerce Drive, #13

  Stow, OH 44224

  ISBN MS Reader (LIT) ISBN # 1-4199-0059-5

  Other available formats (no ISBNs are assigned):

  Adobe (PDF), Rocketbook (RB), Mobipocket (PRC) & HTML

  CRYSTAL SHADOWS © 2004 JOY NASH

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book may not be reproduced in whole or in part without permission.

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. They are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.

  Edited by Briana St. James.

  Cover art by Syneca.

  Warning:

  The following material contains graphic sexual content meant for mature readers. Crystal Shadows has been rated S-ensuous by a minimum of three independent reviewers.

  Ellora’s Cave Publishing offers three levels of Romantica™ reading entertainment: S (S-ensuous), E (E-rotic), and X (X-treme).

  S-ensuous love scenes are explicit and leave nothing to the imagination.

  E-rotic love scenes are explicit, leave nothing to the imagination, and are high in volume per the overall word count. In addition, some E-rated titles might contain fantasy material that some readers find objectionable, such as bondage, submission, same sex encounters, forced seductions, and so forth. E-rated titles are the most graphic titles we carry; it is common, for instance, for an author to use words such as “fucking”, “cock”, “pussy”, and such within their work of literature.

  X-treme titles differ from E-rated titles only in plot premise and storyline execution. Unlike E-rated titles, stories designated with the letter X tend to contain controversial subject matter not for the faint of heart.

  Crystal Shadows

  Joy Nash

  Chapter One

  “Gina, it’s perfect.”

  Gina Petrillo eyed the transparent gown Mikala had unearthed from a murky corner of Crystal Shadows, a funky New Age boutique not far from the Princeton University campus.

  “Right,” she said. “Perfect. If I want to star in a porn remake of The Addams Family.” The dress was a see-through cousin of the one Morticia Addams had worn in the old television series.

  “Oh, come on.” Mikala held the black and silver creation against Gina’s chest. “It’s not that bad. With all that dark hair cascading down your back, you’ll be an incredibly sexy sorceress.”

  Gina just looked at her.

  Mikala shoved the dress back on the rack. “You’ve got to find something. The Wizards’ Ball is tomorrow night.”

  “I never said I would go. Hanging out with a bunch of role-playing geeks isn’t exactly my idea of a good time.”

  “I know, but do it for me, okay? I told my students I’d be there and I really don’t want to go alone.” Mikala renewed her safari through the costume rack. “Besides, you’ve been divorced for six months and the only place you go after dark is the crystals lab. That’s not healthy.”

  Gina feigned interest in an aromatherapy display. “Did you transfer to the Psych Department when I wasn’t looking?”

  Mikala moved too close and touched Gina’s arm. “You know, I’m here if you want to talk about it.”

  “What’s to talk about? My husband couldn’t keep his pants zipped. I was lucky I found out before we had kids.”

  “He took Heather Clark to the Math Department picnic, you know.”

  “Yeah, I know.” Gina moved farther down the aisle.

  Mikala followed. “You’re hiding, Gina, when you should be out showing the world you’re glad you dumped that loser. Put on something outrageous and go to the Wizards’ Ball. Who knows? You could meet someone new.”

  “Like a tall, dark, computer wizard?”

  “That’s very funny, but you can’t win if you don’t play. Ooh, look—” Mikala ran a manicured fingernail over the trim on a purple velvet gown. “Crystals—right up your alley.”

  Gina squinted at the rows of stones. “They’re glass. Not crystalline at all.”

  “Even this one?”

  A faceted pink gem the size of a silver dollar accented the costume’s plunging neckline. “Rose quartz. Very common.”

  “I hear it’s great for opening your heart chakra.”

  Gina snorted. “You know, before I met you, I never realized a Math professor could be so whacked.”

  “Hey, it’s not until you study higher mathematics that you appreciate how bizarre things really are. For example, did you know it’s possible any number of universes occupy the same space as ours?”

  “You’ve been watching way too much late night sci-fi TV.”

  Mikala shrugged. “Maybe.” She held the purple dress higher and tapped the rose quartz crystal. “But Gina, you spend all day—and most nights—surrounded by crystals. How can you not feel the auras radiating from your lab specimens?”

  “They’re just minerals, Mikala. Rocks. It’s not like there’s anything magic about them. Look, I’m sorry about the Ball, but finals were yesterday. I have a ton of papers to grade.”

  “That’s the lamest excuse—”

  “Blessings, daughters.” An old, hunched woman wrapped in ruffles and scarves slipped into the space between Gina and a rubber mask of Yoda. “You see something that pleases, no?”

  “Yes,” said Mikala, holding out the velvet gown. “My friend wants to try this on.”

  “No, she doesn’t.” Gina extracted the costume from Mikala’s fingers and shoved it back on the rack. “We’re just looking.”

  “Ah.” The crone nodded. “Searching. Just so.” A blue-veined claw clutched Gina’s arm. “Come.” She nodded toward an alcove obscured by strings of beads.

  “Wait a min—”

  “Look, Gina,” Mikala said, pointing at a crude, hand-lettered sign. “Crystal readings by Madam Rose. You should get one.”

  The old woman smiled, showing a row of crooked, yellow teeth. “Yes. I do for you.”

  “That is such bull and you know it,” Gina said to Mikala under her breath.

  “Oh, lighten up. It’ll be fun. My treat.” Mikala gave Gina a little push toward the alcove.

  Madam Rose’s beady eyes gleamed.

  “I’m getting you back for this,” Gina muttered. She ducked through the swinging beads into a tiny room lit by flickering candles and obscured by perfumed smoke. A low table and two stools were wedged between a haphazard assortment of cupboards and shelves. Every available surface was piled with crystals.

  Whoa. Madam Rose had some incredible specimens. Gina trailed a finger over a hunk of azurite the size of a softball. You certainly didn’t see that every day.

  “You’ve got a fantastic collection,” she told the woman.

  “You like? Good.” Madam Rose bobbed her chin. “Pick.”

  “What?”

  “Pick stone. For reading.”

  Gina’s gaze traveled over the shelves and halted on a clear, flat prism with a surface like wet ice. Selenite. Crystallized gypsum. Her chest tightened. No two natural crystals were exactly alike, but this particular specimen bore an uncanny resemblance to the one her father had given her on her eighth birthday, after Gina had announced her intention to become a geologist. It had the same glassy face, the same jagged imperfection along one edge.

  Of course, it couldn’t be the same stone. Gina had placed that crystal inside her father’s coffin almost two years ago. Still…

  She picked up the selenite and cradled it in her palm.

  “Ice stone,” Madam Rose said. “Good choice. Open eye of future. See what comes.” She stretched a bony finger toward one of
the stools. “Sit.”

  An odd tingle crept up Gina’s spine. She sat, clutching the selenite specimen like some kind of talisman. The old woman took the opposite stool and leaned forward, her silver hoop earrings striking the sides of her wrinkled neck. Her gnarled hands covered Gina’s. The stone warmed, as if it had come alive.

  Damn. Mikala’s New Age psychobabble was dribbling into Gina’s brain.

  Madam Rose’s breathing ran shallow. Her eyes lost their focus. “You have known deception, my daughter. Death.”

  Gina gave a nervous laugh. “Who hasn’t?”

  The old woman lifted Gina’s hands and peered at the crystal. “I see dark stranger.” She frowned. “Your enemy. He is hidden.”

  Gina heard Mikala out in the shop, humming as she rummaged through the merchandise. This was beyond ridiculous. The only hidden enemies Gina had were computer viruses.

  Madam Rose closed her eyes. “Danger.” She uttered a word in an incomprehensible language. “A journey. Far from home. Few choices.”

  A shiver chased down Gina’s spine.

  Madam Rose’s voice deepened to a throaty whisper. “Dark man is strong. He comes for you. Will you defeat him?” Her withered arms trembled.

  Gina held her breath.

  The old woman bowed her head. “The outcome is uncertain,” she whispered. She withdrew her hands, leaving Gina’s resting on the table.

  Gina let the selenite slide through her fingers as she expelled the air from her lungs in one long stream. The outcome was uncertain? What a crock.

  And some people really believed this garbage. Now that was truly frightening.

  She pushed her way through the beaded curtains into the shop. Mikala appeared from behind a display of goddess statues.

  “Well, how was it? Tall, dark and handsome in sight?”

  “The outcome is uncertain,” Gina told her.

  “Isn’t it always?” Mikala sighed. “Madam Rose, what do I owe you for the reading and the dress?” She nodded toward the cash register.

  The purple velvet gown lay in elegant disarray on the scarred wood counter. “Oh, no, you don’t—” Gina said.

  “Humor me,” Mikala interrupted. “Be a sorceress for the Ball. I swear the next time you need a roommate for a rip-roaring crystallography convention, I’ll be there.”

  “Oh, all right. But if one of your students hits on me, I’m turning him into a frog.”

  * * * * *

  The damn dress itched like hell.

  Gina shoved past three wizards and a Hobbit in an effort to get closer to the door. Mikala hadn’t been kidding when she’d said the place would be packed. Gina had to admit she was impressed. The Victorian mansion rented by The Wizards, Princeton’s underground fantasy society really set the atmosphere.

  Fake cobwebs dangled from the gaslight chandeliers in the ballroom, casting creepy shadows over the crowd. Costumes ranged from horrific to banal. A rotting zombie stood near the fireplace, an evil queen danced with a tarnished knight and a particularly unrealistic werewolf leaned against the bar, scarfing down a lite beer.

  The alternative band The Undead was setting a new record for volume. Gina scanned the room, but Mikala—the traitor—had snared a sexy vampire about an hour ago and was nowhere in sight.

  The party had started at midnight. It was now almost dawn. She should have brought her own car. At this rate, she’d be lucky to get home before noon.

  She reached the doorway at last, gulping air as she freed herself from the worst of the crush. The early morning breeze raised goose bumps on the exposed portion of her breasts, which—due to her plunging décolletage—was far too much territory. She tugged at the velvet neckline, trying to coax the rose quartz crystal to a more modest position.

  The slate-tiled veranda was nearly as crowded as the ballroom, so Gina elbowed her way into the garden. Thick woods crowded the edges, lending an aura of seclusion. A tall hedge of antique roses edged a cut grass path, and a few early blossoms were even open. She moved down the winding trail. Here in the garden, Princeton and the rest of New Jersey seemed far away, as if the plot existed in some other time or space.

  The calm reached out to her, teasing memories of spring days spent digging in the dirt with her father. He’d been a doctor, but had loved working the earth with his hands. Mikala was right about one thing. Gina spent entirely too much time in the lab.

  She ducked into a deserted gazebo at the edge of the garden and sat down on the circular bench ringing the center column. Her brief marriage to Michael had been the one aberration in her otherwise perfectly ordered existence. Now that she was free of him, she should be getting on with her life.

  Trouble was she just couldn’t summon up enough enthusiasm to do it.

  Footsteps intruded on her musings. A woman giggled, drawing a husky male laugh. Gina sat up, heart suddenly pounding. She knew that throaty chuckle only too well.

  Michael. With Heather, his lay-of-the-month.

  The voices drew closer. “Ooh, look—a gazebo! Let’s do it there, Michael.”

  “Anything you want, baby.”

  Damn.

  Thick woods crowded the rear of the gazebo—was there a back way out? Yes. A panel of gingerbread trellis had come loose. She slipped through, yanking her velvet skirt after her an instant before her ex stepped into the gazebo. The splintered edge of the wood scraped her bare arm.

  She watched through the trellis slats as Michael sank onto the bench in the exact spot Gina had vacated. He was dressed as a pirate in a striped shirt and snug breeches, a ridiculous patch obscuring one eye. Heather, her double-D breasts spilling from a tavern wench costume, dropped to her knees and got right down to business. Her fingers made short work of the tie on Michael’s breeches. His long, thin cock sprung into her hands.

  Heather dipped her head. A loud slurp followed. Michael let out a muffled groan. Gina inched away, brambles grabbing at her hair. A thorn snagged her skirt. She pulled the velvet free, trying not to make a sound, cursing under her breath when she heard it rip.

  Geez, Petrillo, where is your spine? She should have headed back to the ballroom by way of the garden path, breezing past Michael and Heather without a glance. Instead, she was skulking away, as if she had been the one caught groping in the dark like a horny teenager.

  Stop the insanity. She should turn around right now and retrace her steps through the gazebo.

  Another slurp reached her ears.

  On the other hand, she had no desire to watch Heather Clark suck off Michael’s pencil-dick.

  Michael’s rough voice drifted on a breeze. “Oh, yeah, that’s sweet. Take it deeper, baby.”

  “I can’t, Michael.” Heather voice was a combination of breathless and whiny. “That’s as far as I can go.”

  “I like it deeper, babe.”

  A gagging sound told Gina that Heather was trying her best to give Michael a deep throat blowjob. Too bad it wouldn’t be enough. With Michael, it never was. Mikala was right about another thing—Gina should be glad she finally got free of him. And she would be, if only she could figure out how to shake the feeling of utter failure her ruined marriage had brought.

  Turning her back on Michael’s increasingly lusty groans, Gina plunged deeper into the forest, stumbling a little on a sudden downhill slope. Which way was the mansion? She was trying to get her bearings when a flash of light burst from the stone at the center of her costume’s neckline.

  Frowning, she peered down at it. How odd. The rose quartz crystal had taken on a faint glow.

  She touched it. Warm. How could that be? She craned her neck, trying to get a better view.

  The stone’s inner light strengthened. Flashed. Ringing stirred the air, obscuring the faraway music from the Ball. A thousand bells sounded, chiming softly at first, then growing strident.

  Fierce nausea assaulted her. Oh, God. That’s what she got for drinking hard liquor on an empty stomach. Her vision was weirding out, too. A shining strand of light hung before her eyes,
floating like a golden spider trail. The thread split, became two, then four, then countless glittering filaments, turning and twisting, close enough to touch, yet at the same time a universe away.

  The forest shimmered. The ground dissolved. A gust of wind passed through the trees and sent the world spinning.

  Gina hit the earth with a jolt that knocked the air from her lungs. Leaning forward, she concentrated on sucking in a series of painful breaths as the nausea washed over her, then slowly faded.

  Struggling to her feet, she stood on shaking legs. What the hell had happened? She squinted down at the rose quartz crystal. The light was gone.

  She touched it. Cold.

  She must have imagined the changes in the stone. There was no other logical explanation.

  The air was still and silent. The faint strains of music from the Ball had faded. The band must have called it a night.

  “I greet you, Mistress.”

  Gina spun around. A gangly undergraduate wearing a tunic, breeches, and a black cloak swept her a bow. Where the hell had he come from? There was something strange about his speech. An accent or something. He was probably a foreign student.

  “Are you one of The Wizards?” she asked.

  “Yes.”

  “I got a little lost,” Gina told him. “Which way back to the Ball?”

  He lifted his hand, pointing to one side. “This way, Mistress.”

  The kid turned and started up a faint trail. Gina followed. The mansion had to be at the top of the hill.

  Early morning sunlight slanted through the trees, illuminating a forest that seemed half-dead. Mottled leaves littered the ground and clustered in the hollows between moss-covered roots. Brittle branches creaked overhead. Funny. Gina hadn’t noticed the condition of the woods last night, but then again, it had been dark when she and Mikala arrived at the Ball.

  After a short hike, she waded through a tangle of brush and blinked into the rising sun. No Victorian mansion greeted her. No garden or parking lot. Only a bucolic, mist-shrouded valley.