by Jane Cousins
It was a metaphorical punch to the gut to suddenly realise that if Cara chose to leave, if he failed in getting her to admit her feelings for him, failed to convince her to stay, then this hunk of marble might be all he would be left with as a reminder of her. Tracing his fingers down over her tummy, up over a full breast his thumb came to rest on the statue’s lips.
Goddess, what was he doing? He lifted his hand away, picked up the sheet of tarpaulin and threw it over the sculpture. Forget the marble, he needed to come up with a way to trick Cara into admitting she had feelings for him.
She had to. A woman like Cara Devigne didn’t just sleep with a man if she felt nothing for him. The heat they’d shared between the sheets, it wasn’t a hesitant flickering flame, it was one of those fiery - out of control, to the core of the Earth – wells, that couldn’t be capped, that would burn until the end of time. Why couldn’t Cara see that? Accept that?
She had to know that he hadn’t planned for Saffron to be there at his house, in his bed. Just when, between all the kidnapping, the being held hostage and fiery - ceiling coming down on their heads – escape, did Cara think he had time to contact another woman and set up a booty call? He’d declared his feelings plain as day – I surrender – couldn’t be plainer.
What else was there for him to say?
He’d bared his soul, his intentions, why wasn’t she reciprocating? Why was she being so obstinate? Women! They were so bloody complicated. What more could she be expecting? Come on man, game plan, you need a sneaky game plan.
Shit, he did all of his best thinking when he worked. Whirling he stalked over to the almost completed small stage, scooping up his chisel and hammer he stood there contemplating the wooden pole in front of him, searching his soul for inspiration… ah, an Angel, of course.
* * *
Section Nine of the vault was full of incredibly old written materials. The few books present didn’t look anything like books of the modern age, their pages too thick and mismatched in size. Instinctively Cara held her breath as she sorted through the sewn together books, scrolls, sheaves of stone rubbings and even the occasional tablet. It felt sacrilegious that these articles weren’t in a museum, in a vacuum environment under glass. Except if they were ever removed from the vault, Cara didn’t doubt the articles would very well crumble into dust in a matter of seconds.
There was magic so thick in the air in the vault she could almost taste it. Marta had explained during her initial tour that the magic in here was a combination entropy prevention and a dust removal spell. It was why the vault didn’t smell, and why despite the age of everything she was touching, she didn’t need to wear gloves or worry about transferring the natural oil of her fingers on to any of the ancient works.
Oh, there were gloves available, but they were made out of chain mail and were meant to be worn when dealing with the snapping, blood-thirsty books located in section six, where the majority of cages and locked boxes could be found in the vault.
Marta had confided that section six was where the books on magic were kept until they could either be tamed by a specialist and deemed safe enough to be re-located to the magic mojo wing or their contents were unwillingly scanned and put on disk, the skittish or dangerous original to be kept forever under lock and key.
Pulling up a chair at the large work table in section nine, Cara opened a large bulky book, flipping to the first page, her nose wrinkled in dismay. Yuk, this was either a guide to being an ancient butcher or an early attempt at a scientific treatise on dissection and anatomy.
Either way, she had no choice but to wade through its contents in case it held some clue regarding death rituals that involved removing Chi and transferring it into an inanimate object. What the… suddenly she was distracted as heat flooded her lower body, the memory of Erik’s large calloused hand resting on her thigh catching her off guard. It felt unsettlingly real. What a vivid imagination she had, it was almost like he was actually touching her right this second, his hand gliding back and forth. It felt so real… too real.
Wide eyed, Cara glanced down at her leg, of course there was nothing to see but still… a shiver of longing stole through her as Erik’s invisible hand moved back and forth possessively along her thigh. Oh my, her breath catching in the back of her throat as unseen fingers traced a path over her hip, across her tummy, grazing up and over one breast, her throat. Heavens, she released a small gasp, it felt as if Erik’s thumb had come to a rest on her lower lip, testing the softness of her skin for just a moment and then… it was gone.
The experience had been so strange, so real… she felt turned on and bereft all at the same time. Damn, the man wasn’t even in the room and he was tying her up in knots.
Perhaps once she finished her research she could swing by section six and see if there wasn’t an anti-attraction spell for the novice magic user. If she couldn’t talk herself out of loving Erik with rational logic, she might just have to resort to magical means in order to get her life back on a nice even, manageable keel.
Blowing out a deep controlled breath, Cara picked up her pen and went back to perusing the text on how to dismember a goat. Her stomach roiled, automatically she slammed the book closed, she doubted anything helpful could be gained by continuing to subject herself to reading this particular book.
“For a girl who believes she epitomizes chaos, you’re quite the little list maker.”
Cara shrieked, pushing her chair back and away from the work table. There was a woman lounging on it, she’d appeared out of thin air, scaring the crap out of her.
Hand plastered to her chest, Cara attempted to slow her breathing. “Who… who are you?”
“I’ll give you one guess, Petal.”
Cara studied her new companion carefully. She appeared to be of Indian or Middle Eastern descent, her skin a dusky coffee colour, her long black hair plaited, the end resting on the work table that she sat on as she swung her bare feet back and forth rhythmically. Dressed in a pale peach yoga top and blue stretchy pants the woman, who looked to be in her fifties, radiated serenity. Though a small, slightly smug smile tugged at the corners of her lips and her eyes… oh my, Cara’s breath sped up once more. The woman’s eyes, it was like looking into an endless sea of glittering sunburnt sand dunes. For some reason Cara found herself shying away from those eyes.
“Maat?” Cara’s fingers gripped the seat of the chair beneath her. Funny, her instincts were screaming at her to run, though intellectually she knew there was no way she could out pace a Goddess or find a safe place to hide. “Your… you’re willing to help me?”
Maat leaned back casually, resting her weight on her arms. “You sound so surprised, Dewdrop.”
Cara swallowed hard, hoping she didn’t look half as afraid as she felt. After dealing with Sek and Mot who were mere demi gods, who knew what a capricious and powerful enemy a full Goddess would make. “Just the whole balance versus chaos battle. I thought you’d be a little anti… well… my very existence.”
Maat chuckled softly, Cara’s spine automatically straightened, her chin lifting. Maat’s laughter sounded a little patronising, grating her nerves. Huh, who knew the twin science experiment super soldiers would be correct, she did find the Goddess a little annoying. It made her feel better all of a sudden, less afraid.
“How can anything be truly balanced unless there is an opposing force present?” Maat supplied.
Cara bit her tongue, yeah, definitely annoying.
Maat continued. “And chaos is just a force, neither necessarily good nor bad. In early times, when a chariot still pulled the sun across the sky each day, the true name for chaos was change. Mortal life was short, brutal and hard. Famine, disease, the elements, all to be faced and conquered on a daily basis. A constant striving for victory over chaos.” That smug smile at the corners of Maat’s mouth deepened slightly.
Cara folded her hands in her lap, striving to look relaxed. “Would you say the same thing about your much lauded balance?” Okay, feigning
you were relaxed in front of a Goddess was one thing but to deliberately provoke her, Cara, are you out of your mind?
Maat only laughed again, but this time there was no patronising edge to it, only humour and amusement. “Of course, no life should be stagnate, there must always be constant striving, for personal growth, for improvement. A person who strives for true balance, knows that no life can be led without spikes of chaos. One must embrace and face change. If a person insists upon always avoiding chaos, how can they learn to rise to a challenge? How can they come to understand that good and bad choices exist? Under go loss so that they can cherish the here and now?” Maat shrugged a graceful shoulder. “That whole not rocking the boat attitude, that you cling so tightly too, Angelface, not always a good thing.”
Cara blinked slowly. “That sounded like a personal dig. What could you possibly know about my life?”
Maat shrugged. “That you’ve spent too long only striving for balance, rather than embracing change.”
“Seriously.” Cara shook her head. “If you had the slightest inkling of what I’ve been through in the last eighteen months, you’d know that me striving for a peaceful… normal life, is the only thing keeping the world from imploding.”
Maat chuckled softly under her breath. “You think very highly of yourself if you think you can destroy the whole world.”
Cara clenched her hands into fists, she knew Maat was a Goddess, but for some insane reason she really wanted to punch the woman right in her smug – I know something you don’t – smiling face. “Okay, maybe thinking I might accidentally destroy the world is a little extreme, how about just the Southern Hemisphere then?”
Maat shrugged, her smile for the first time disappearing completely. “At the very least half of Queensland… if you keep on the current path you have chosen.”
Cara gulped hard. “Seriously?”
Maat’s eyes went dark for a moment, turning the colour of a descending sandstorm. “It’s one possibility.”
“You have to help me then.” Cara leaned forward in her chair.
Maat shrugged, the edges of her lips once more quirked upwards. “I thought I already had.”
Cara frowned. “I don’t understand, I thought you were going to train me. Help me to harness and control my powers?”
Maat studied her coral tipped toe nails for a moment. “How could I… the Goddess of balance, truth and wisdom, help you control your chaos powers?”
“Then why did you come?” Cara threw up her hands in frustration, she was back to wanting to punch the Goddess.
“Why, to help of course.”
Cara resumed gripping the seat of the chair beneath her, her knuckles white with tension. “And this is you helping?”
“I’ve given you the answer, Candy-kisses. I can’t provide you with an instruction manual.”
Grrr, seriously, if she launched herself at Maat, what could the Goddess do to hurt her? Mmm, abruptly she re-called Erik’s father who could throw around lightning bolts. What she needed to do was get herself together, calm down and continue conversing with Maat in a rational and logical manner. Think peaceful thoughts, breathe, count and regain control.
Maat tilted her head to the side for a moment. “Ah, Dandelion-fluff, surely you’ve worked out by now the bunnies and the butterflies are useless?”
Cara’s mouth dropped open. “How… how did you know that’s what I was thinking about? I’ve never told anyone about the meadow before.”
“It wasn’t hard to work out, the breathing, the focus, practically screams the ten steps to a Zen life. And I should know, I’ve been striving for the same state of bliss for a millennia.” Maat indicated with a wave of one hand pointing out her yoga outfit.
“But you… you’re the Goddess of balance.” Cara was blind-sided by Maat’s revelation.
“Haven’t you been listening, Bright-Eyes? No one… no one, who lives a full, well rounded existence, is immune from either balance or chaos, not even the immortals… it’s a constant struggle… a constant choice…” Maat finished talking but it was like there was still a question hanging on the air between them.
“You want me to embrace the chaos?”
“It’s not just the last eighteen months we are talking about here Goldilocks, and you know it. You can try and lock down your life, wrap yourself in sturdy boring camouflage, but that’s not the way life is meant to be lived. Change is tough, but sticking your head in the sand and wishing it away with breathing exercises isn’t the answer… at least not for you. Embrace the strange, the new, the terrifying, the wacky, the good, the bad, the highs and the lows.”
“Erik.” Cara breathed his name unconsciously, her hand wandering up to push back her heavy hair over one shoulder. Funny, she’d never even considered putting it up in a braid when she’d dressed in her work outfit earlier… maybe, just maybe, she was already willing to start embracing change.
Maat nodded, smiling broadly. “He definitely falls under all those headings.” Leaning over Maat scooped up Cara’s notebook and studied the two lists she was collating. “Sek and Mot – weakness. Apep – objects potentially containing Chi. My, my, the apple really does fall far from the tree, doesn’t it? I knew Ruh, that girl could party. She was wild, unruly… and powerful, perhaps more so than those three jealous brothers of hers combined.”
“You… you knew Apep when he was alive?”
Maat shrugged. “Of course, haven’t I already said that chaos and balance are not enemies, at least we don’t have to be.”
“What happened? Sek and Mot said they killed Ruh.”
“I don’t doubt they did. They plotted with Bal, managed to distract Ruh and raised a flood. She was barely nineteen summers, desperate to get her three children to higher ground. She never saw her brothers’ deception coming. The children survived, prolific spawners.” Maat shook her head in wonder. “Apep was inconsolable with grief, he didn’t recognise his sons’ betrayal until it was almost too late. Still, even in death he managed to deny them their victory.” Maat tapped the list Cara was compiling on possible locations of Apep’s Chi.
“Do you know where his Chi is?”
Maat’s eyes went dark for a split second then she shook her head ruefully. “Chaos is still prevalent in the world, where ever it is, it has lost none of its potency.”
“But…” Cara found herself talking to empty air.
That was very disconcerting, the way Maat could just pop in and out like that. Exhaling a deep breath, Cara scooted her chair forward, resting her arms on the work table. That had been exhausting, and so much to take in… could Maat be correct? Was the answer to her control issues embracing the chaos, instead of fighting it?
And what about what Maat had hinted at regarding Erik? Could there be more for them than just a short term hook up? It would mean taking a chance, a risk. Bad things might happen.
But what would happen to her without Erik in her life? It would no doubt be a peaceful, quiet, safe life. Heavens, that sounded boring all of a sudden. Her stomach roiled but below that, the fire low in her body flickered slightly higher, heating her blood, making her feel uncomfortable, but not in a bad way.
Damn it, she loved him, but she wanted more from him than just a casual - hey baby, why don’t you move in with me until somebody better comes along.
Cara had no idea who to pray to, but she sent up a general plea for help. Maybe she could make Erik Valhalla fall in love with her. Men were ultimately simple creatures, perhaps all she needed to do was get her vamp on and seduce him. Or failing that, she could go the coy, feminine, sweet route, to his heart.
Hold on, hadn’t someone once said something about cooking for a man if you wanted to win his heart? Except, she couldn’t cook. Merda, she was so out of her depth when it came to making a man fall in love with her it was laughable.
She found herself smiling, what did she normally do when she had a problem and didn’t know the answer? Research, of course. Perhaps some time spent in the romance fictio
n section might provide her with some relevant guidelines and tips. They didn’t nickname them bodice rippers for nothing.
Chapter Twenty-One
Cara ducked under the opaque plastic separating the work site from the rest of the library. Relieved to find that Dave and his crew had gone for the day and only Erik remained working. He was a distant blurry figure behind the plastic drop sheets enclosing the pre-school children’s section on the far side of the room.
Okay Cara, she gave herself a mental pep talk. You can do this, first the sexy walk, swing those hips. She felt ridiculous sauntering across the room, but all the books seemed to think that attitude was important so she pulled her shoulders back, lifted her chin and committed to the strut… or five steps, until she stumbled over some discarded electrical cabling and nearly fell on her ass.
Okay, she amended, less strut and more watching where you are going.
Pushing aside the drop sheet, she strode over to a handy piece of nearby scaffolding, rested one hand against it and cocked a hip, sending Erik the best come-hither sexy smile that she had in her decidedly limited repertoire. What reaction did she get for all her efforts? Nada, the man was too busy crouched over a lump of wood, chiselling away at it with fast practised movements to notice that he had a lady caller requiring his attention.
She softly cleared her throat delicately… nothing. Merda, this seduction business was a lot harder in real life than in the novels she had scoured through earlier in the afternoon. She cleared her throat a second time and when that didn’t work she said his name, perhaps in a tone a little sharper than she’d intended as Erik instantly dropped his tools, stood, swivelled, his whole body tensed and ready for action. Seeing her he instantly relaxed, an easy smile gracing his gorgeous face. The five o’clock shadow clinging to his jawline once more bringing to Cara’s mind the idea of a sexy pirate.
“Hey there.” Erik continued to smile her way, but there was a faint question lingering in his eyes, as if there was something about her puzzling him.