by Amy Freeman
Trin chuckled as Vig stood.
Sam looked up. “Are you staying?”
“I am,” he said, “and I’m turnin’ in right now. I’m beat.” He reached a hand out to Trin. “G’night, bro.”
Trin grabbed his hand. “Sleep well, man.”
He turned and shuffled into the hallway toward Anna’s room just as she opened the door. Anna watched him cross to her bed and turned to Sam. “Good night I guess...”
Sam smiled and waved. “Good night.” Trin lifted a hand in a wave and Anna disappeared down the hallway.
Trin turned to Sam, his arm still draped over her tiny shoulders. He watched her in anticipation.
She eyed him sideways. “So do you think you could help me again tomorrow with my calculus?”
He nodded once, still staring, “...of course...”
She stared. “What?”
“You have something you want to ask me.”
She dropped her chin, holding his gaze. “Seriously—stop that.”
“I’m not doing it,” he said. “You are.”
“Are any of my thoughts safe?”
“I only hear the ones you want me to hear,” he said. “...and yes, I will stay.”
She raised her brows.
Trin stared right back, unflinching, non-threatening and sweet.
“Thank you,” she said.
He nodded, and glanced to the hall. “I get up at five.”
Sam turned away. “Ugh, that part alone makes the entire sport of swimming not worth it.”
Trin laughed. “I won’t wake you,” he said. “I would sleep here on the couch but...” he eyed her, “you want me in there.”
“Yes I do,” she said, “...if that’s okay.”
He smiled and glanced at the floor. “It’s okay,” he replied. He looked up. “You’re safe with me.”
Sam stared into his eyes. “I know I am,” she said. “That’s why I need you to stay.”
He nodded. “I know.”
Sam gazed at him. “Where did you come from?” she asked.
Trin laughed. “...Russia?”
Sam shook her head suppressing a smile. She glanced down at her hands and then back up to Trin. “Thanks for finding me,” she said.
His eyes glinted with something she couldn’t quite identify. “The pleasure is mine,” he said.
A thought interrupted the trance he had cast and she glanced away. “You don’t have anything here,” she said.
Trin gestured down at his legs. “My warm-ups are fine,” he said. “My gym bag is in my truck with everything else. I’ll wait out here. You go do what you need to do.”
Sam raised a brow. “Are you sure?”
Trin nodded. “Yeah, you go ahead.”
She stared at him a moment, then rose from the couch and went to her room to grab some pajamas. She returned, glancing at him as she opened the bathroom door. His broad muscular shoulders were hunched over, elbows resting on his knees. His glacier eyes lifted to hers—glinting against the dim light, accentuating his masculine face. A thrill zipped through her. ”I’ll be right out,” she said.
He cracked a smile. “Take your time.”
She smiled and slipped inside the bathroom closing the door behind her. Trin inhaled and let out a breath. He glanced around the room, noting the energy—Sam’s energy, mixed with Anna’s. He pushed off of the couch—his long legs stretching him to a solid 6’ 3” as he stood. He pushed a hand through his sun streaked hair, blew out another breath and folded his muscled arms across his chest.
It came from nowhere—a voice erupting inside his head, fluid yet sharp, piercing him to the core...Я...везде...Вєдуни...
Trin’s body tensed—his gleaming eyes, scanning everywhere. After a thorough scan his eyes hardened, lethal. “Где ты, трус,” Where are you, coward...
No reply. He read the information, decoding, deciphering—residual...just a remnant from her vision before...only a shell...but something else...
“Trin?”
His head jerked toward the bathroom door where Sam now stood in shorts and a tank top, her powerful yet dainty body hesitant at his demeanor.
She put a hand on the door frame, her thick dark hair falling past her shoulders. “Is everything okay?”
His formidable frame relaxed but moved toward her without hesitation. Resting his hands on her shoulders he said, “Everything’s fine. Are you okay?”
She looked up into his face. “I’m fine, why?”
He stared at her a moment. “Just making sure,” he said. “Got everything you need?”
Sam glanced around, nodding. “Yeah...you?”
“I’m good.”
She glanced sideways. “You sure?”
“He nodded once. “I’m sure. He turned his head to the door and extended a hand.
Sam cracked a smile, lowered her head and walked in. She rounded the bed and sat down.
She glanced up to find him still standing in the doorway.
“Where do you want me?” he asked.
Sam patted the opposite side of her bed. “As close as I can get you,” she said.
Trin stared a moment, a slight upward twitch at the corner of his mouth, eyes glinting. He let out a breath. “You’re the boss.” He crossed the room pulling his shirt over his head. Sam tried not to stare as his spectacular muscles worked beneath his tanned skin, pulling the shirt right side out and draping it over her chair. He sat down on the bed and laid back. Sam snuggled underneath the comforter, eyeing the lean muscular body lying next to hers. “Trin you can get under the covers,” she said. “Really it’s okay.”
Trin stared at the ceiling a moment, then pushed the quilt underneath him and slid under the sheet. He lay back on the pillow and turned his head to her. His electric eyes inches away from hers, once again—a genuine concern gleaming in his light irises. “You sure you’re okay with this?”
Sam smirked. “You mean you can’t tell?”
He looked to the ceiling and grinned. “Clever.”
Her heart melted. “Thanks for staying,” she said.
He turned his face to hers. “I’ll stay whenever you need me to.”
Sam let out a deep breath. “I really am scared,” she said, “...you...make it go away.”
He watched her a moment then rolled to his side, placing a large gentle hand on her cheek. “I meant what I said earlier,” he said. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”
“I know you won’t.” She placed her hand on his, feeling the uncanny electrical charge flood her skin. “I can feel it.”
Their eyes lingered for what seemed like forever. Trin pushed his fingers through her hair and said, “Get some sleep, Sam.” But his eyes said something more.
So did hers.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
V italy entered the large office building in the center of the city and headed for the elevators. He no longer looked the part of a recon soldier. He had returned from Germany and was on his way to see Mikhail.
A picture of professional elegance, he dressed in attire tailored to accentuate his extraordinary physique; dark brown Zanella slacks and a white button down Canali dress shirt underneath a light blue cashmere sweater that slightly revealed a classic gold Patek Philippe watch. Polished Ferragamo shoes finished the look, accentuating his distinguished refinement, blending well with the other professional occupants, or so it seemed.
He strode through the spacious corridor, casually passing scores of preoccupied professionals busily going about their day. The expansive entryway floors were exquisite golden veined marble that continued up the walls. Designated sitting areas adorned with beautiful, rich cherry wood furniture and plush ornate rugs graced the massive foyers that spread out to either side of him.
He reached the elevator and pressed the up button. As he waited, he crafted a false demeanor of calm, contemplating what was coming. A soft ding indicated the car’s arrival and the doors slid apart.
Three individuals stepped
out, two women and a man dressed in business attire. Vitaly nodded as they passed, stepped into the empty car, and pressed the button for the fifth floor.
The doors closed.
Reaching his destination the doors parted, exposing a large professional title on the wall in front of him.
Минирование и раскопк Ивана
Ivanova Mining and Excavation
He entered the reception area where a petite brunette sat behind the reception desk staring at a computer screen, typing. She looked up and smiled.
“Как я могу вам помочь?” How can I help you?
“Мне нужно встретиться с Михаилом.” I am here to see Mikhail.
The young woman picked up the phone, pressed a button and announced Vitaly’s arrival. She paused a moment, listening to instruction and then hung up the receiver.
“Он вакс ждет,” she said and motioned toward the large double doors down the hall.
“Спасибо.” Thank you.
Vitaly walked past the desk and down the hall. When he reached the doors he pulled one open, walked in, and let it close behind him.
The spacious office boasted walls of solid oak shelving with elegant furniture to match. An enormous bay window overlooking the mines spanned the wall directly across from him where Mikhail sat in solemn silence at a polished desk. “Вы тоже это почувствовали”
You felt it too.
Vitaly paused a moment, then made his way to one of the elegant leather chairs opposite Mikhail’s desk and sat down. “Have you identified it?”
Mikhail glanced down in conflict, hands clasped on his desk. “I am going to relate something to you, Vitaly,” he began. “It can never leave this office; not without my strict consent.”
“Yes, sir.”
“The general population of the tribe knows nothing of this. The council, Keeper, and Oracle are the only ones who know. It is strictly forbidden for me to be imparting this information.” He gazed to the floor in angst. “But I fear we may be in imminent peril.” He turned a commanding eye toward Vitaly. “If this information were to fall into the wrong hands the results would be catastrophic,” he said. “It can never leave this room.”
“Yes, sir,” Vitaly gazed in disconcerted intrigue. “What information?”
Mikhail turned toward the window. “You know why we are here, Vitaly, the Veduny. Why we exist.”
Vitaly stared. “To protect humanity.”
“What from?” Mikhail asked.
Vitaly squinted, shifting in his chair. “If they continue living the way they do now, they will destroy themselves...Mikhail, where are you going with this?”
The Head Elder paused, turning his gaze to the excavation site. “Deep within our mines there is an alcove that has been sealed. No one knows of its existence aside from the council, Keeper, and Oracle. It contains an engraving that appeared just prior to the arrival of Gea and Aalok, the first of our tribe.” Mikhail turned. “It is our true purpose. Why we were sent.”
Vitaly shook his head. “I don’t understand.”
Mikhail pulled out his chair and sat down. “We are charged to protect humanity,” he said, “To teach them how to access their higher selves. But we’re protecting them from more than their own natural decline.” He looked Vitaly in the eyes. “That engraving appeared immediately following the murder of a young woman in 1212, a villager, a pure spirit sensitive. That murder created a portal for darkness.”
Vitaly inclined his head, staring. “Why haven’t we destroyed it?”
“Destroying it activates the portal. It was etched into a mountain full of alexandrite for a purpose. The creator knew someone would blast through it eventually for mining. It is why we own these mines.” The Elder rested his elbows on his desk. “It lies protected, sealed in Gea’s blood in the center where no one is allowed. Protecting that portal is our biggest responsibility.”
Vitaly sat back, astonished, absorbing the information. “No one knows about the seal, and Gea is gone,” he said. “Her blood is needed to break the seal. As long as Gea’s seal stands, the portal remains closed. Is that correct?”
“That is correct.”
“Then the seal cannot be compromised. Gea has long since passed.”
“That is what troubles me,” Mikhail said. He stood, crossing the room to a shelf of books, removing one from the top center. “We know that Ashbel is hunting the current Oracle. We assumed he wanted her for himself. But I saw his image at Bergen-Belsen laced with a crippling dark energy.” He glanced at Vitaly lifting an eyebrow. “This energy is not Ashbel’s.”
Vitaly nodded. “I felt it.”
Mikhail moved to his desk. “I figured as much. I have never sensed anything like it.” Mikhail placed the ancient book on his desk, the cover dusty and worn.
“In my vision I saw a weapon, a large dagger, a kindjal,” he said, “The image came and went too quickly for details.” He opened the book, pushing it toward Vitaly. “I saw this directly after.”
Vitaly looked to the page, finding an ancient sketch, a chilling, unmistakable symbol.
Mikhail pointed to the image. “This is the symbol Gea sealed. This is the portal’s creator.”
Vitaly lifted his eyes in alarm, near speechless. “Mikhail, what does this mean?”
The Elder stood erect. “Without the Oracle, I have no way of knowing. But if this is the secondary energy, our problem is far greater than Ashbel.”
Vitaly gaped. “This portal...it provides a physical crossing?”
Mikhail nodded once.
“What’s the connection to Ashbel?”
“I don’t know.”
Vitaly stood. “We need the Oracle,” he said. “Trinton has found her. Damn it, he needs to act.” He squinted. “Does Trinton know about this?”
Mikhail shook his head. “I had to be certain,” he said. “That’s why I sent you to the concentration camp, and I’m still not sure what it means.”
“It doesn’t matter what it means.” Vitaly placed a hand on the desk, leaning in. “Ashbel’s energy has been sensed in several countries throughout the world, Mikhail,” he said. “New reports come in continually from other recon parties we’ve sent out, and I can only assume this secondary energy is present there as well. The meaning is unimportant. The possibility is enough.”
Mikhail remained stoic, eyes hardened steel. Vitaly retreated, straightening. “Sir,” he said, “You don’t need me to point out the magnitude of this situation. I am your military leader. I feel compelled to move forward.”
Mikhail scrutinized his subordinate. “I will be searching the sacred archives,” he said. “Certainly there are records, some documentation that will give us information, some way for us to find what we need. This is too dire. The Divinity would not have left us helpless.”
Vitaly held his stare. “They didn’t, Sir” he said. “They gave us Samantha. Trinton needs to restore the Oracle power now.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
S am woke to her alarm clock—a buzzing so obnoxious moving to silence it was more than worth it. She reached over, smacked the snooze button and glanced at the time—seven a.m. she drifted back for a ten minute stay of execution, then jolted up, turning to the right.
An empty white sheet stared back, empty pillow—her eyes flicked to the chair...T shirt gone. She sighed. Five a.m. She stared down at her hands a moment. The memory of his hand on her face sent her into a euphoric spin, marveling all the while at the level of comfort she felt with him—no awkward silences, no stressing about how she looked—makeup or no makeup, it didn’t matter. She blew out another breath...wide awake now. She pushed the blankets back and stood up, reaching over her head in a long stretch. A slip of white caught her attention and she glanced down at her night table.
Hope you slept well. I’ll be done with practice by six. I’ll meet you in the library at 6:15—same place. Please call me if you need me.
Tri
n
She flushed, grinning, dropping her face into her hand. A soft knock sounded at the door. She lifted her head in anticipation as it cracked open. Anna peered in—her blonde hair a tussled mess from a good night’s sleep. Sam’s shoulders fell.
“Ooh, I saw that,” Anna said, through a giant grin. “Sorry, babe, I’m not super sex God. He left a long time ago.”
“I hope Vig left too,” Sam replied. “I’m sure he’d love hearing you call some other guy a super sex God.”
“Even Vig would call him a super sex God.” She pushed the door open. Sam rolled her eyes as Anna walked in and plopped down on the bed. “I want details...all of them.”
Sam sat down on the other side of the bed staring down at the comforter. “There are no details. He didn’t do anything.”
“The hell he didn’t.”
Sam looked up. “He didn’t.”
Anna dropped her head, staring up at Sam. “I know he didn’t get freaky, Sam, he’s the quintessential gentleman.” She lifted her chin. “I want to hear about the other stuff,” she said, “the reason you’re glowing, the reason the sight of my face at the door made you want to cry.”
Sam smiled and looked away. She heaved a large sigh and shook her head. “I can barely even put it in to words,” she said. She looked at Anna. “I feel like he can’t be real...like I’ve made him up out of sheer desperation or something. I mean talk about the sex God thing...” she put a hand to her face. “I told him to sleep in here with me...he took his shirt off...my God...”
“Oooh...yeah...” Anna replied
“Most difficult night of my life.”
“Don’t know how you did it.”
Sam lifted her face. “It wasn’t really an option,” she said. “It’s like you said—quintessential gentleman. He wasn’t gonna try anything, you know?”
“Doesn’t mean he didn’t want to.”
“Yes,” Sam said. “I know. I can feel it. Every time he touches me or I touch him...I don’t know,” her brows knit together. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone before, but this can’t be normal. The pull is...” she shook her head, “insane.”