by Jamie Craig
Remy frowned. “That doesn’t sound like Gabriel at all. The man doesn’t bullshit around. He didn’t even blink when he shot Kirsten. If he wanted Isaac gone, he’d just do it, not pussy around in amateur hour.”
Nathan remembered his time as Gabriel’s captive. He didn’t need to be told the other man didn’t pussy around. Though Gabriel had never dealt with him personally, he remembered the argument between Gabriel and Tian that culminated in Cesar’s death. Killing Tian’s best friend had been Tian’s warning shot. Shape up or you’re next.
“No, you’re right. Gabriel doesn’t play games. Isaac might have tunnel vision right now.”
Her eyes grew wary again, searching his like she was seeing straight down to his soul. “Do we need to go back? Maybe Isaac needs us more than I—we—need answers.”
“No. Isaac can take care of himself for a few days. This is where we should be.”
The corner of her mouth lifted in the split second it took her to close the distance, pressing a warm kiss to his lips that made the world vanish. His arms tightened reflexively around her, relishing the soft curves molded against him, and for a few precious moments, he forgot about his worry for Isaac and his concern for Remy. He could just kiss her and be there, the way it had been since she’d fallen into his life.
“We’ll go back as soon as possible,” Remy said when they parted. “Before Isaac forgets how much he needs us.”
Nathan nodded. It helped to know Isaac wasn’t alone. He didn’t know what was going on between his friend and the cold case detective, but right now he didn’t care about the details. He only cared about Isaac’s safety and Remy’s peace of mind.
The village had been hot, but traipsing through the dense jungle surrounding the small population felt like she was getting baked alive. With each step, Remy’s feet grew heavier, the boots she wore as protection from the undergrowth making it harder and harder to trudge on. She saw a stripe of sweat running down the middle of Nathan’s back as he walked in front of her. The hair at his nape curled from perspiration and heat. Not once did he voice a word of complaint. He was too intent on following the woman who’d agreed to meet with them, to tell them what she knew of the Silver Maiden.
Her name was Corazana, though she called herself Cora. Remy’d expected somebody older than Cora’s forty years, and her whipcord thin body suggested years of life in the jungle as opposed to stuck in a library. Green eyes greeted them instead of the brown Remy had grown accustomed to seeing in Argentina, and she met them with a genuinely warm and inviting smile, despite her initial cautionary words.
“Few are interested in the old stories anymore,” she’d said in flawless English, standing on the porch of the small house where they were staying. “And there are those of us who believe perhaps this is a good thing.”
“Why?” Nathan had asked.
“Because with knowledge comes power, and with power, corruption.” Her gaze settled on Remy, steady enough to make Remy fidget. “Faith is a driving force for many deeds, both good and bad. Better to protect that which we have against the unknown than to unleash it to be abused.”
Remy didn’t know what the hell she was talking about, but it left her feeling even more jittery than she already was. They needed answers, yes, but the more she heard, the more she wondered if this was a rock better left unturned.
They came to a stop at a clearing and the soft rush of water called Remy’s attention even before Cora led them toward it. Cora stopped at the bank of a narrow stream, crouching down to sit on one of the rocks, and motioned for Nathan and Remy to join her.
“We’re here on a matter of some urgency.” Nathan sat perched on a rock, his long legs stretched in front of him. He held out his scarred hand, palm up. “We need to know what the Silver Maiden is. What it can do. How it relates to seven missing girls.”
Cora took his hand, her fingers almost as long and slender as Nathan’s. Gently, she traced over the raised marks, following the lines of the Maiden’s hair as she looked over her shoulder. “You’ve touched it.” Her eyes came up and locked with his. “It knew you.”
“Well, I wish I knew that’s how it deals with people it knows. But other people have handled it. It didn’t burn Remy. Or Isaac. Or Gabriel.”
“No, it just dragged me through time,” Remy muttered under her breath.
Cora glanced between them, uncertainty marring her features. “Perhaps it needed to speak with you somehow. The Silver Maiden is quite faithful in its purposes. There are few who will know, or appreciate, its value.”
“Gabriel knows and appreciates its value. That’s why we’re here. Is there a connection between the coin and seven girls? Or seven anything?”
“Seven? No, but…” Letting go of Nathan’s hand, Cora looked down in the clear stream, bending to dip her fingertips into the water. “The Silver Maiden was quite devout. She created her coins in hopes of buying her freedom, but they were forged in faith more than anything else. A coven of priestesses, eight in total, perpetuated the Maiden’s faith. It is believed that they were the true source of the Silver Maiden’s power.”
“What happened to the priestesses?”
“When the faith died, so did the need for them,” Cora said. “Women didn’t choose to become a priestess. The title was passed down from generation to generation. Eight different blood lines. Eight different families. Without the need for their spiritual guidance, they chose new paths for their lives.” She smiled. “Remember, this was centuries ago, Señor Pierce. Time has long since offered new fates for these women.”
Nathan didn’t respond immediately. He looked over the stream, his eyes narrowed against the sun. Remy could almost see him trying to put all the pieces together to make a coherent picture, his mind examining each new piece of information. She was glad he was there to do it, because she wasn’t sure what the priestesses had to do with anything.
“You said the coven was the true source of the Silver Maiden’s power,” Nathan said, after a long minute of silence. “What was its power? What could the priestesses do?”
“It’s never been entirely clear,” Cora said. “Some say they could control the elements, channel their energies to get the world to do as they pleased. Others believe their powers were more ephemeral, promoting spirituality rather than providing better lives for their followers. And there is a small faction who thinks it was more than either of that. They believe the priestesses knew how to draw forth on the power of their faith to break down the walls of our dimensions. Time and space were of little consequence when faced with the force of true desires.”
Remy’s heart beat a little bit faster at her use of the word time. She leaned closer, her arm brushing across Nathan’s, and he reached around so that his hand came to rest in the small of her back, stroking in tight circles as a measure of reassurance. “But what do you think? Do you think that’s possible?”
Cora shrugged. “It’s hard to say. The stories suggest it’s more than feasible, but science is not nearly so forgiving. One thing is certain, though. The stories are quite clear it took the power of all eight priestesses to make any great changes. Each was endowed with their own strengths, but it was only together that they could enact any true effects for their followers.”
“He’s trying to put the coven back together again,” Nathan murmured. “That’s why Gabriel isn’t killing the girls. He doesn’t want them dead, he wants their power. Cora, why are there two coins? The myth says she forged them at different times, but that explanation could have been created after the fact.”
“No, that is true, as far as we know. Think of the priestesses’ faith as a magnet and the coins as each of its poles. Alone, they have their own powers, their own strengths. Bring them together, and you have something much, much more powerful.”
Nathan turned to look at Remy. “So where’s the other coin?”
The question filled her with sudden dread. It wasn’t something they had considered in the six months since she’d given Gabriel th
e front side of the Silver Maiden, but thinking about it now, there was only one conclusion to be drawn.
“Kirsten had to have it to come after me,” she said. “But there’s no telling what she did with it when she was in LA. I don’t think she would’ve given it to Gabriel, though. She intended to go home.”
Nathan nodded. “But he must have thought he could find it, or else he wouldn’t have shot her.”
“He probably has it. I probably gave him exactly what he needed to make it royal for him.”
As Cora launched into a story about how the coins had disappeared over the centuries, Remy’s mind drifted. Back to LA, back to a front yard where she watched the woman she’d feared get gunned down in the blink of an eye, back to a world where she had questions upon questions about how she could have traveled through time. She still wasn’t entirely sure of the answer to that one. But she did know one thing.
She could not let Gabriel have access to the power of the priestesses. He was already dangerous enough. With both coins he would be unstoppable.
Chapter Twelve
Gabriel didn’t look up when his office door slammed open. Only one person in the house—or the city—would have the nerve to burst into his private space unannounced. She was also the only person in the city he wouldn’t shoot. She knew it too.
“What are you doing in here? Have you lost your mind?” Marisol asked in rapid Spanish. “Tomas has been all over the news. Everybody knows you’re responsible. The cops will be knocking on our door!”
Gabriel still didn’t look up. He had been studying the engraving on the Silver Maiden. Her face. Had anybody noticed how beautiful she was?
“Answer me, Gabriel!”
“There is no evidence.”
Marisol slammed her hand down on the desk. “You’re going to ruin everything. We’re so close, Gabriel, and you’re going to ruin everything.”
He sighed. Clearly, she didn’t intend to leave. Ignoring her wouldn’t make her go away. “Nothing is ruined.” He tucked the coin into the safe. “Without Tomas and Nando, they can’t link the girls back to me. And Wolf wasn’t seen. Everything is still under control.”
“Where’s the second coin, Gabriel? Nobody’s found it.”
A sliver of pain pierced his temple as he thought about the second missing coin. He tried not to think about it too much, because it made him nauseated. He could deal with missing the coin when it was lost somewhere in time, but to know it was there, in his year, in his city, was a torment he couldn’t describe. Why command the respect of hundreds and spread his wealth and influence throughout the infrastructure of a city the size of Los Angeles if he couldn’t find a single damned coin?
Marisol thought he was worthless. He saw it in her eyes. But even if he couldn’t see it, she would happily tell him as much.
“Forget it, Gabriel. That’s not why I came to talk to you.”
“What is it, then?”
“We need Stacy Montenegro. While you’ve been here dreaming over the coin, I’ve been out there working.” She said working like it was a dirty word. “There’s not another girl in her line. Her mother is too old. She doesn’t have a sister. She doesn’t even have a cousin in the right age-group.”
Gabriel grimaced. “There’s got to be another descendent.”
“I’m sure there is. But there’s not another one in Los Angeles and we don’t have the time to search the entire world. We were damned lucky to find the girls we did. This is our one chance and you are letting it slip through our fingers.”
The accusation brought Gabriel to his feet. “I have done everything you’ve ever asked of me and more. Who was in charge of watching the girls? You let Stacy get away. You let her escape. You were the one who should have stopped her. Didn’t you say you were prepared to do anything necessary?”
Marisol crossed her arms and fixed him with her cold glare. Nobody had eyes like Marisol, black and fathomless. When she was happy, they were like a warm summer night. He thought he even saw stars shining in their depths. But when something angered her, her eyes became chips of obsidian ice.
“I couldn’t risk killing or seriously harming her. You know this won’t work if those girls are harmed in any way. They need to be pure and unblemished. I thought keeping her alive and suitable for the circle would serve our purposes better.”
“She should have never had the chance to escape.” Fury surged through his veins. “We kept her for five years, and on the eve of the morning we could finally send her where she belongs, you let her escape.”
Marisol took a deep breath. As her nostrils flared, Gabriel braced himself. He didn’t mind having a fight with her now. Maybe he needed a fight to clear his mind and get his blood pumping. But instead of attacking him, she softened and circled the desk to stand beside him.
“Primo,” she murmured, touching his arm, “we shouldn’t fight like this. Do you remember when we were children, how we used to tell each other stories of the Silver Maiden? How we used to pretend that I was her priestess and you were her consort?”
Gabriel nodded. Her eyes were warming now, and warming him. She continued in a soothing, almost musical tone.
“We need each other. You and I have a destiny. We’ve always known it. If we fight now, we won’t be worthy to call on the Maiden.”
“I don’t want to fight with you, Marisol. You know I don’t.”
“I do. But what are we going to do now? How are we going to fix this?”
How are you going to fix this? That’s what she meant and that’s what he heard.
“I’m going to find Stacy. We have two weeks. We’re all going to become model citizens. Nobody will have a reason to even look our direction. We’ll be like the Silver Maiden, doing our work secretly, in the dark.”
Marisol smiled and stood on her toes to press a kiss to his cheek. “I knew you would not let me down, cousin. You have just let other matters draw you off course.”
Gabriel turned his head, catching her lips with his. “Perhaps,” he said against her mouth, “you can find a way to get me back on course.”
Marisol released him and crossed the room. He thought she might leave him, but she merely shut and locked the door. When she turned to face him again, her eyes were a welcoming night once again.
Olivia lined her lips with coral pink lipstick, listening to the unfamiliar sounds of Isaac moving around her house and talking to Tiberius. Isaac wasn’t the first man to share her home, but he was the first person to live with her in over five years. It was odd, but also good.
Capping her lipstick, she stepped back to admire her reflection. She had tried for a softer look than she usually wore. Her hair fell around her face in waves, and she used a bit more eye shadow and blush than she did for work. Isaac had insisted they were going to go out. She didn’t know what Isaac considered a date, but she looked forward to finding out. Did he consider The Barn to be an appropriate place for a first date? Did he like to dance? Did he enjoy movies?
Does it really matter what he wants to do?
It didn’t. She just wanted to spend time with him. Personal time. Maybe for a few hours they could just be Isaac and Olivia, not Detectives McGuire and Wright. He’d promised her nothing short of murder would pull him away from dinner and she rarely received emergency calls when she was off-duty. They should be home-free.
Olivia returned to the bedroom and pulled open her top drawer. She didn’t usually wear frilly or lacy underwear, but tonight didn’t seem like a good night for her standard white cotton sets. She chose a black silk bra with matching bikini briefs, the edges hemmed in fine lace. After snapping the bra in place, she pulled put a pair of black stockings, and her eyes fell on something silver as she turned away from the drawer.
The coin.
She had slipped it there so Isaac wouldn’t find it, figuring he’d be too much of a gentleman to go through her underwear drawer before the first date. She didn’t know why she didn’t want him to see it, but it had seemed important to keep
it to herself. Even if she forgot about it almost as soon as she slipped it under her bras.
The coin was heavier than she remembered. Heavier than any other coin she had ever handled. For the first time, she noticed the back was completely smooth. Did they make one-sided coins? She held it to the light and squinted, trying to find a date, or a country stamp. But it lacked any identifying marks. In fact, it lacked any understandable marks at all. She’d never seen marks like this before. She couldn’t tell if they were letters, or images, or maybe some sort of hieroglyphs.
She perched on the corner of the bed without looking away from the coin. What was it? Where had it come from? Why had she kept it?
And why was it so hot all of a sudden?
She closed her eyes and an image rushed forward. Not a dream. Not a memory. It overwhelmed her and drove her backwards, pressing her to the bed.
A building, falling apart. It’s old. Older than anything I know. Older than the world. It rises from the ground like a tree, like it’s a part of the earth, and not something thrust into the ground. It looks like a single stone, but it’s really thousands of tiny bricks, cut in perfect squares and fit together without tools or mud. Vines wind over the wall, like slow-moving snakes. Maybe they are snakes.
It only takes two steps to realize I’m not alone. I stop, and Remy keeps going, steps forward, keeps walking. I hear her now. Three heartbeats. Mine. Remy’s. Was Nathan behind her? Remy’s going to the temple.
“Don’t. Remy. Don’t. It’ll take you. It’s not for you.”
Remy shakes her head and keeps walking. I want to stop her, but I can’t move. It’s dangerous. Can’t Remy sense the danger? It’s a living, breathing darkness. It’s hungry. It’ll swallow her. It’ll consume us.
The darkness rolls out of the temple. It stains the ground. It touches Remy’s feet. It moves past her, a current of tar. It touches my feet. I slip…slip into it.