Chyna Stone Adventures: The Complete 8-Book Series

by K. T. Tomb

  “Facades are not hard to maintain, Chyna. All you need are the right incentives.”

  “Tony, I... I don’t know what to say.”

  “Just,” Tony was at her feet in an instant, “just promise me you’ll keep my words in mind, and be vigilant around him.”

  Chyna looked at Tony for a long time, and what she saw in his eyes pleased and amused her.

  “Anthony Stewart, are you jealous?”

  She giggled, noticing how very uncharacteristic it was of him. From the look in his eyes, she knew she was right. Yet, he scrambled to maintain himself.

  “Jealous? Who, me? No, no, no… not at all.” He cleared his throat, “It's just that you’re so fucking gorgeous. It’s natural that they’ll eventually try something.”

  There it was. The jealousy had turned to want in a minute.

  “Yeah? What are you going to do to prevent it?” Chyna goaded him, though she very well knew how he would respond. In fact, his hands were already creeping toward the answer.

  “Oh, I can do a lot actually.”

  He pressed his lips to hers and they fell back onto the bed. Soon they were tangled up in each other’s limbs and Chyna moaned softly in his ear as the pleasure he was giving her mounted and heated her through. His hands ran all over her soft skin fanning the flames of the insistent fire he had ignited between them and when she had clung to him in the final throes of her passion, he had groaned his release into the flushed skin of her shoulder. Then he looked up and kissed her neck.

  “I’m not jealous, Babe,” he said, seeking to reassure her again, “but I think I’ll just ensure he knows you’re taken by marking you.”

  He pressed his lips to her neck again and mark her he did.

  Chapter Two

  Two days later…

  For the first time in what felt like ages, Chyna woke up in a city she was beginning to feel at home in. Her work as an archaeologist took her all over the world, and she was used to waking up in a sterile clean hotel with strange sounds greeting her. But there was something comforting to her about Istanbul. She couldn’t hear the telltale sounds of cars and chatter that seemed to define the city center all the way over from her house, but she felt the shift in the air that affected everyone who resided in the city. Chyna could easily see herself spending many more beautiful years in the city, pursuing the eminent success of the new branch of Found History.

  The curling of Tony’s arms around her in bed made her amend that thought. She hadn’t told anyone, but Tony had been in the process of a transfer from his assignment in Izmir to one with the US Consulate in Istanbul so he wouldn’t have to spend any length of time away from Chyna. Although he loved doing what he did, he also thought that fifteen years of passionate intermittent nights here and there could hardly qualify for a steady relationship. Both of them had agreed that they wanted something more reliable, more steadfast. For once, they didn’t want to have their bags packed and ready to go at a moment’s notice. After almost a decade and a half of moving around like vagabonds, Chyna loved the feeling of finally settling down, and Istanbul was the place she wanted to be.

  Chyna smiled as the thought hit her. She hadn’t yet started having dreams of a house with the white picket fence and two point five kids—in fact, she didn’t really see kids in her future. She was just looking for a little less adventure and a little more routine. That could be found right there in Turkey and she loved the idea of it.

  She untangled herself from the sheets and went into the bathroom to freshen up. She let Tony sleep after the long night they’d had while she showered, brushed her long black hair out and went down to the kitchen. The house was empty, and she figured everyone was still asleep. She called it paranoia, but Chyna could not resist checking whether the alarms were still active. They were. She was glad now that she had gone with getting Sirita the apartment and herself the house. Siri was used to having her solitude and Chyna didn’t mind having the company when the team was in town, which wasn’t that often. Surprisingly, Sirita had opted to crash with the team the previous night; too exhausted from the flight to drive herself home.

  Chyna opened the fridge and took out a jug of orange juice, some eggs and a packet of bacon, then prepared the coffee machine and turned it on. She put the bacon on to fry and retrieved her laptop, thinking she could check her email while the bacon did its thing. She let the machine boot up while she made some eggs sunny-side up and put bread into the toaster. While that toasted, Chyna whisked up the rest of the eggs for a scramble for the others and put the bowl into the fridge to keep cool. She was just putting a plate together when Mark entered the kitchen, clad only in shorts and still rubbing his eyes.

  “Oh God, breakfast,” he said when he spotted Chyna’s plate and was about to sweep a piece of the bacon up when she swatted his hand away.

  Mark looked crestfallen. “Is there extra?”

  “Nope, feed yourself.” She grinned and took a bite to emphasize her point. “There are eggs ready to scramble in the fridge and the coffee’s ready.”

  She watched amused as he opened the fridge and got busy with the cooking before turning back to her laptop and logging into her email. She sifted through some junk mail and such, until she landed on one that caught her interest.

  Chyna remembered the previous mail she had received from Thyri Ragnarsson about the Ivory Bow that had belonged to Queen Christina of Sweden. She had found the case promising, but Montezuma had taken precedence over it, and the Ivory Bow had been swept into the back of her mind in Mexico. Now, the subject of the email made her open it.

  Dear Chyna,

  I am sorry for getting back so late. I found something about the Ivory Bow that might interest you. I’m sure you might have heard about Karl Wiligut. He was one of those crazy people associated with the Irminists and their theories. He did, however, leave behind some diary entries that talk about the bow. We obtained them through our sources. I have scanned them and attached them to this email. Hope they help.

  Please respond to me as soon as possible.

  My regards to you and your team.

  Thyri

  Chyna ransacked her mind and brought up her information on Karl Wiligut. From what Chyna knew, he was famous for his theories about him being the heir to a long line of glorious ancestors who started Irminism. She had just finished downloading the attachments when Tony strolled in, still sleepy-headed and yawning.

  A light bulb went off in Chyna’s head as she recalled what Tony had told her about Mark the previous night. Even though Mark was new to the team, Chyna trusted him. He had come to her team with Thyri’s personal recommendation. But who knew? She had been wrong once before with Fariha; she could be wrong now. She hated thinking that her instincts might be failing her, but she had to accept it. She needed to keep an eye on Mark. Chyna was just about to stop and take a tray up for Tony when she saw him enter the kitchen; he came to her and kissed her forehead.

  “Good morning, precious,” he said, and then moved to the cupboard for a coffee cup.

  When he rejoined her at the kitchen island, she pushed his plate of eggs and bacon toward him.

  “Good morning, love,” she replied.

  Chyna turned back to Thyri’s email. She opened the attachments and looked at the loopy handwriting on the pages, reading through it while looking for something important. It seemed Karl was a highly delusional man, given his theories about his ancestors and the invasions by the Catholics and Jews. His anger, Chyna felt, was entirely misguided, but then again, Karl Wiligut fit into the overly imaginative category quite easily. The bow itself, however, was an interesting piece. Although Chyna did not believe that it had all the magical powers that Wiligut claimed, she was genuinely intrigued with the whole affair because of the involvement of the Freemasons.

  From what she knew, the Masonic society was an incredibly secretive group of people, and inclusions into it were made only on the basis of merit or birth. There had never been any set theories about the Masons, and the
ir entire existence was shrouded in a cloud of mystery. There had also been rumors about numerous American pioneers, politicians and extremely rich businessmen who were supposed to be Freemasons, but nothing had ever been proven. It was all very elite and enigmatic at the same time.

  What interested Chyna was their significance in Wiligut’s life. The Masons would not involve themselves with something as trivial as a bow, and definitely not something that would expose the true nature of their organization. For those reasons alone, Chyna knew she had her next assignment. The Ivory Bow had to be special if one of the world’s most secret societies was after it.

  “Guys, I think I know what we have to do,” she announced, without even looking up from the computer screen. Oscar and Sirita had joined the group by now, and along with Tony and Mark, they all huddled around Chyna to look at the laptop.

  “Interesting,” Oscar said appreciatively. “But what about the treasure?”

  “Haven’t you had enough death threats?” Chyna frowned at him and he just shrugged it off. “Okay, now, we need to work fast. Sirita, can you pull up some information about these Schlaraffia? It’s the pseudo-Masonic Lodge where Wiligut began his journey.”

  Sirita nodded and opened her laptop while chewing on an apple.

  “Oscar, Mark, you might want to pack your bags.”

  Chyna spoke and went ahead with making arrangements for their flight. She almost did not want to meet Tony’s eyes.

  “What about me?” he asked her curiously, and Chyna thought the sleep had suddenly disappeared from his eyes.

  “We’ve got to go, Babe, and I’m going to need to know that I can call on you here if Mira needs a hand with anything in the office.”

  Her words came out quietly, but loud enough so he could hear. She felt his hand around her arm, and in the next moment he had pulled her into one of the hallways. He was fuming.

  “I’m coming with you,” he whispered urgently, but he could have been shouting for all she knew.

  “You can’t. It’s not possible, Tony. I know you don’t have any time off left; how would you explain that to the FBI or to the consulate?” Chyna tried to explain to him, but Tony wasn’t having it.

  “Is it because of him? Mark?” Tony urged, “Don’t you believe what I said?”

  Chyna resisted the urge to roll her eyes and replied, “Tony, you know I don’t have any feelings for Mark. And besides, I need to think about what you said last night. I think the best way to do it is to put him on a mission.”

  “Yes, without me, where you’re unprotected.”

  Tony narrowed his eyes.

  “Oh, come on, you know as well as I do that I can protect myself.”

  Chyna tried to placate him. “Please, Tony. Listen to me. I promise everything will be fine.”

  Tony glared at her for a few seconds before huffing, “Fine, but I’m getting on a plane the minute I pick up that anything’s wrong.”

  “Okay.”

  Chyna got a feeling that she would regret it, but she refrained from saying anything else. When she and Tony got back to the kitchen, Sirita was already packing up her notes and calling the group to attention. Chyna received a look from Oscar and she gave him one back that said he should set a good example for the two newer investigators and mind his own business. The team gathered around the kitchen table to listen to Sirita.

  “All right, here is what I know. The Schlaraffia were a pseudo-Masonic lodge where Karl Wiligut was a member for most of his young life. They are a German society and were founded in Prague. There doesn’t seem to be anything shady in their activities. It says here that they are great admirers of art and humor. The members are known as Schlaraffen.

  “They do seem to be a bunch of people who seem to be stuck in the past. They meet in the middle of winter once per week in their castle, which is something out of the middle ages and even equipped that way. Each of their gatherings works out in the form of a knight’s play. They respect music and poetry and thus criticize modern day life. They even have their own language and clubs that always stay connected to each other.

  “Then there is some info about prospective members being introduced by ‘Godfathers’ and having to complete a probation period before being interred into the society. They rise from the position of squire to knight.

  “Here’s the fun part, though: the last they were heard of was in 1947 in Vilnius, the capital of Lithuania. There has been no news about any of the members or the society since the post war period. It’s like they just fell off the face of the Earth.”

  Chyna’s plan was already set by the time Sirita stopped speaking.

  “Well, Viva Vilnius everyone!”

  ***

  Vilnius was a beautiful city. Chyna could only marvel at how much wonder one place could present to visitors, and she was feeling it in spades. The very setting of the city screamed culture, which was abundant at every turn and corner that Chyna made and saw.

  There seemed to be an endless number of churches in Vilnius, each of them with a distinct air that commanded a silent respect and awe. It was mainly a medieval town, built around a Town Hall, like most belonging to the era did. The roads in Vilnius were mostly narrow, meandering around palaces that belonged to feudal lords, workshops and cafes. There were small, private courtyards built all over the city, emphasizing its medieval origin.

  As they passed through the older part of town, Chyna couldn’t help but feel an immense joy as she took in the sights and the eclectic mix of architectural styles. There seemed to be hundreds of buildings in Gothic, Baroque and Renaissance styles; producing a heartwarming bouquet of beauty and serenity. The tranquility seemed to be amplified under the quiet sun of summer.

  Although they did not pass through it, Chyna made up her mind to also visit Užupis, a part of town near Old Vilnius which was home to numerous Bohemian artists. The district represented artistic freedom and expression through art, and Chyna could easily imagine losing herself for hours in the colorful maze.

  There were also distinct Jewish and Christian flavors in the melting pot of Vilnius. Chyna knew about the famous rabbi Eliyahu Kremer, whose teachings had had a heavy influence on the Jews in Israel. Although most of the Jewish culture and people were obliterated during the Nazi invasion, the country rebounded and repaired most of its Jewish landmarks.

  Additionally, Vilnius was the seat of the Roman Catholic Archdiocese of Vilnius, with so many cultural influences; Chyna could see how easy it was for important world religions to coexist here. She was aware of the Lutheran Evangelicals and Baptists, and the distinct Eastern Rite Catholicism presence over the city. As the group neared their destination near the U.S. Embassy to meet their contact, Chyna had a feeling that this adventure was going to be quite eventful.

  “What was the name of this guy again?” Chyna asked Mark, who was traveling with her in a sedan, while Oscar and Sirita followed in another with all their technical equipment.

  “Uh... Emilijus Kuklys; Thyri just confirmed it with me. I don’t know what she’s thinking. From what she told me, this man just seems to have danger written all over him.”

  Mark sighed and shook his head.

  “Why? What’s the big deal?” Chyna asked, concerned and determined not to intentionally put her team in harm’s way so soon after the fiasco in Mexico.

  “Well, apparently, he’s some left-wing radical and his people have been locked in a dispute with right-wing members ever since independence. It’s all very complicated.”

  Mark made circles with his forefinger, indicating a loop.

  “Yeah, I know, but please tell me we are not about to land in the middle of some crazy mafia-political war,” Chyna snorted. If there was one thing she hated more than nepotism, it was politics.

  “Not really, no. I mean, we should be okay. It’s just that things have been quite tense here ever since the Lithuanian National Democratic Party, or LNDP, came into power. They are modern day neo-Nazis, and I think this difference in ideologies is what is
causing all the anxiety, with most of the population in Lithuania being Jewish and all.

  “Interestingly, Lithuania had never been big on the whole reviving the Nazi propaganda thing, but ever since the LNDP came into power, there has been a shift in the politics in the country. The left-wing radicals are opposing this rise of power, calling it a violation of the true democratic rights of people. They say the government is supporting the neo-Nazis by letting them organize rallies and gatherings about subjects that are supposed to be sensitive. The most troubled are the Jews, who were the target of atrocities during the Nazi invasion and the Second World War. The government, of course, has denied all such possibilities and happenings, but the fear still remains. That’s why I’m worried. Look at us—we are a team of foreigners, put in direct contact with a leftist radical. What are the right-wing supporters going to think?”

  Chyna did not even want to know. She shook her head at the precarious circumstances they were in, and her straightforward plan had to now be cleverly adjusted in order to accommodate political red tape and the associated nonsense. She tried to lighten the situation by taking a shot at Mark.

  “You know an awful lot about politics.”

  Mark laughed. “Not really, no. I just do my homework.”

  You could be doing a hell of a lot more than that, Chyna thought as her mind wandered back to what Tony had said.

  They were almost at the café in the old town where Emilijus was supposed to meet them, but a commotion in the street made Chyna stop the car and sit up straighter in the driver’s seat. If there was going to be a riot, she wanted to be able to hightail it out of there faster than anybody could say the word ‘run.’

  “What the hell?” Mark shouted right next to her.

  His voice startled her and the next thing she knew, Mark was hopping out of the car and running toward where a crowd of people seemed to be beating someone who was lying on the ground.

  “Mark!” Chyna called out to him and cursed internally when he did not listen. Damn it, she was not letting him sabotage the mission because he was having a sudden urge to play hero. In the end, she decided it was best to follow him into the crowd, which seemed to be thinning out just then. Oscar and Sirita had caught up with Chyna and she instructed them to stay where they were as she ran toward where Mark was probably making a fool out of himself.