The Crystal Warriors Series Bundle

by Maree Anderson

  She frowned. Grace’s unsubtle innuendoes were starting to grate on her nerves. Grace couldn’t possibly know about Malach, but surely she didn’t believe Jade had seduced “Peter Stone”, the man who’d “interviewed” her for a job, and spent the night with him? Not after the way they’d giggled about Jade’s impressions of him after she’d spoken to him on the phone. It’d been awful lying to Grace about the “interview”, and Jade hadn’t been at all sure she could pull it off, but playing increasingly outrageous “I bet Mr. Stone looks like” games had helped get her through the awkwardness.

  A nasty thought smacked her. Did Grace suspect Jade’s true reasons for meeting with “Mr. Stone”, and was needling her before getting stuck in with the mother of all lectures? God, perhaps she’d spotted the advertisement Jade had placed and figured out who’d placed it and why! That would be bad. Real bad.

  “So, how’d you get home?”

  Jade blinked, struggling to focus on Grace’s question. “Bus,” she finally admitted, inwardly cringing as she waited for the inevitable explosion.

  “Sheesh! You probably made the bus-driver’s day. Plus the passengers’. And anyone else who spotted you walking home from the bus stop. What were you thinking, J? See, yet another reason to get a cell phone. If you’d rung me, I could have picked you up from town so you didn’t have to worry about flashing everyone.”

  God, this was so hard. She itched to come clean and tell Grace about Malach but then the rest of the sordid truth would have to come out. Best friend or no, Jade couldn’t reveal the truth about losing her virginity and thoroughly enjoying the process. What Malach and she had shared, and the reasons behind the sharing, were private—too intimate to discuss with anyone, even her best friend. Plus, if Jade confessed to Grace even half the stuff she knew about Malach, Grace would be convinced she was delusional, and incapable of taking care of Mei, anymore.

  Grace’s critical gaze had dropped to Jade’s feet. She sat down abruptly, one hand fluttering over her heart. “Oh no! What happened to your sandals?”

  Grace knew just how much the sandals meant to Jade.

  “The heels broke. They just… snapped off. I guess they, uh, weren’t up to the hike from the bus-stop.”

  “Pity.”

  “Yeah.

  “Maybe you can get them fixed?”

  “Maybe.” They both stared at her ruined sandals, unwilling to voice the sad truth: they were beyond redemption.

  Jade toed off the damaged footwear and kicked them under the couch. “Thanks for coming and staying over, Gracie. And—”

  “Would you just hush a minute and let me finish? I was about to tell you before we got sidetracked that Mr. Stone rang me yesterday.”

  “Huh?”

  “Mr. Stone? The charming old guy? He was so dreadfully apologetic about the trouble he put you to, making you come all the way to his hotel on the pretext of a job interview when he wasn’t really offering you a proper job at all.” Grace plumped up a cushion behind her back. “You’re so lucky he turned out to be such a gentleman and didn’t try anything on. If you’d heard some of the kinky stuff some of my male patients suggest I might like to try with them, you wouldn’t be so complacent. When I think of the trouble you could have gotten yourself into….” Her brows pleated in a little frown. “You know, I couldn’t for the life of me pick his accent. Where’s he from?”

  “Who?”

  “Mr. Stone, of course.”

  “I-I’m not sure. He didn’t actually say.” Jade squinched her eyes shut and gave herself a thorough mental shake to clear the cobwebs from her brain. “Pieter— Uh, I mean, Mr. Stone rang you? Yesterday?”

  “He sure did. Why do you think I knew to ring Mei in the first place? Your Mr. Stone reckoned you’d be kept out pretty late, and he was concerned about Mei being left on her own for so long, what with Erica not being able to make it. Anyway, I came over about four. Mei ’n me ordered takeaways for dinner and watched a couple of chick-flicks, and after I’d sorted Mei out it was so late I figured I’d hit the spare room rather than wait up for you.”

  This whole scenario was so damn “off” that Jade found it increasingly difficult to believe Grace could remain so unconcerned. “But… but how did Mr. Stone get your number? I certainly didn’t give it to him.”

  Grace frowned for all of five whole seconds before her face cleared. “Oh—” she airily waved her hand in the air “—it’s all too complicated to go into right now. But we had a lovely chat, and when he came to see me he explained everything.”

  Jade’s stomach slid to her toes. Everything? This couldn’t be good. “He came to see you?”

  “Yes, of course. He needed to check me out—make sure I was suitable.”

  “Suitable? For what?”

  She must have looked horrified because Grace laughed and rolled her eyes. “For Mei, silly. Your Mr. Stone has hired me as Mei’s private caregiver.”

  Jade’s jaw sagged, but even though her mouth was open but she couldn’t seem to coax any words out.

  “I’m between contracts,” Grace said. “So it’s all set. He’s hired me to look after Mei for the next month, which will free you up to squire round his nephew.” She itched the bridge of her nose and pushed up her glasses “Squiring. Is that the right word when the woman’s the one doing the squiring? Doesn’t sound right. Escorting, maybe. Though not in a sleazy way. Unless you want it to be, of course.” She winked.

  “His nephew?”

  “Focus, J. His nephew. Malach something-or-other. Geez, you really are whacked, aren’t you? The guy must have danced your feet off at the clubs, huh?” This time her wink wasn’t just knowing, it screamed wink-wink-nudge-nudge-you-go-girl! sexual innuendo.

  “Reckon he could’ve sprung for a taxi, though. Bit rude to expect you to find your own way home.”

  “Gracie—”

  “Some guys can be so damn clueless, can’t they?”

  “Gracie.”

  “Only thinking of themselves. I bet if you’d been out on the town with Mr Stone, he’d have paid for—”

  “Grace! What exactly did Pieter—Mr. Stone—tell you about Malach?”

  “Only that he’d hired you to take his nephew, this Malach guy, out on the town. And if you both got on okay—you and Malach, I mean—he’d pay you to entertain him by taking him sight-seeing round Sydney. But the best thing was the bit about commissioning you to paint a portrait of his nephew!” Graces eyes sparkled with barely suppressed excitement and she was practically hugging herself with delight.

  “Wh-what?” Jade stuck a finger in her ear and wiggled it, wondering if she’d heard right.

  “The commission. For you to paint a portrait of his nephew.”

  A commission.

  A painful yearning coursed through her. Someone actually paying her to paint a portrait for them. A dream come true—

  Except it wasn’t true. This commission wasn’t because someone had seen her work and been seduced by the passion that infused each and every brushstroke. This wasn’t because her art spoke to someone at some soul-deep level and they just had to own one of her works. This was the Crystal Guardian acting as puppet-master and pulling the strings.

  Her strings. And Malach and Grace’s, too.

  Jade wondered if Pieter knew how much she truly yearned for this. And how much it wounded her soul that it wasn’t a real commission.

  Huh. Silly. Of course he knew.

  “He needs it completed within a month,” Grace burbled, happily unaware of Jade’s anguish. “He wants it completed before Malach has to travel back to… to…. Funny, I can’t quite remember where. Of course I told him you’d be happy to do it but you were constrained by caring for your sister and might not make the deadline. We got to talking, and after I told him old Mrs. Whitney had recently passed on so I was between clients, he offered me this job. So it’s all worked out for the best, really.” She beamed at Jade, pleased as punch by the way everything had turned out.

  If only s
he knew the truth.

  “You don’t seem very grateful, J.”

  “Grateful?” Jade blinked back tears born of fury. She’d just been offered her heart’s desire, only to realize it was tainted, sordid. The absolute last thing she felt like doing was showing gratitude. “What the bloody hell for, Gracie? Should I be grateful to you for spilling details of my private life to a stranger? Should I be grateful to Mr. Stone for interfering and thinking he knows what’s best for me and Mei? And just so you know, there wasn’t any job for him to offer you! I was managing to care for Mei just fine before Pieter bloody Stone came on the scene.”

  “Yeah. Sure you were. Like, so fine you refuse help from your friends when you desperately need it. So fine you’re worrying yourself sick about finding the money you need to provide top-notch medical care for Mei. So fine you never go out, never date, and don’t have a bloody life because your whole life revolves around your sister!” Grace’s voice had begun to rise, on its way to a potentially earsplitting screech, but before it hit banshee-level, she took hold of her temper and clamped her lips shut. She rotated her shoulders, making a visible effort to relax.

  Jade heard her muttering about stubborn little witches beneath her breath.

  “Jade, Jade, Jade,” she chided, her features composing themselves into what Jade had always suspected Grace fondly imagined to be a compassionate, motherly impression. Truth be told it was more like Narnia’s White Witch attempting the whole koochy-coo maternal thing.

  “Look at this as a gift,” she said, her tone wheedling. “Jolly old Mr. Stone’s obviously rolling in dough and he’s happy to throw it around. Why shouldn’t some stick to you for a change? And judging by the state of you, his nephew is pretty hot and totally into you. So as far as I can see, it’s a win-win situation all ’round.”

  Dammit.

  From Grace’s too-knowing smirk, she didn’t just suspect Jade had slept with Malach, she knew it. And was unreasonably pleased about it into the bargain.

  Jade knew from the eager light in Grace’s eyes that her friend was dying to know all the gory details, but Jade refused to give her that satisfaction. Well, for now, anyway. Doubtless she’d give in and spill soon enough.

  First things first. Grace’s mind usually functioned like a well-oiled steel trap. She was the last person Jade would have expected to fall for such a contrived series of events. So it seemed highly likely that Pieter, almighty Guardian of the Crystals, had worked his supernatural mojo on Grace, too. Just like he’d done on Jade, making her forget Mei.

  Jade suspected that getting Grace to see she’d been manipulated by an expert was futile but she had to at least try. “And you don’t think, gee, I dunno, that this is all just too darn convenient, Gracie? Nothing about this whole set-up screams totally weird series of coincidences and big fat ulterior motive to you? It sure as hell does to me.”

  “So he wants you to paint a portrait of his nephew and show the guy a good time. So he’s prepared to pay through the nose for it. So he’s happy to pay for Mei’s care to free up your time—it’s all good, right? With the money your Mr. Stone’s paying you, you can take a whole month off from your café job to paint while I look after Mei. Besides, your sister and I love each other to bits so it won’t be a problem, will it?”

  Jade remained mute, watching her best friend’s shiny-eyed childlike eagerness with increasing despair.

  Grace ticked off each point on her fingers. “I’ll live in so I can help Mei at night if she needs me. I can oversee her dietary requirements. And I can also deal to that old battleaxe of a district nurse who gives her the willies. Plus, I can take her to her hospital appointments and explain everything so she can understand it. I’m fully versed in all the different techniques used for peritoneal dialysis—I was the one who pushed for that instead of haemodialysis, remember? So Mei could feel like she’s in control instead of being reliant on you all the time. Except you’re still clucking over the poor girl like an old chook, and treating her like a kid.”

  Jade opened her mouth to defend herself but when Grace was on a roll there was no stopping her.

  “This way, you won’t have to schedule your entire life around Mei’s needs for a while. I can take responsibility for her, and you’ll be able to spend each day for an entire month doing what you’ve always wanted to do. Paint. Right?”

  “Right.” She choked on the word but what else could she say? Pieter had brainwashed Grace to the point where Jade suspected she’d have been perfectly fine if Jade had ended up MIA for the entire freakin’ month instead of merely overnight.

  “I’ve already cleared it all with Mei and she’s over the moon. She and I agree: it’s time you started living your own life, J.”

  Wow. Fait accompli much? And aside from smacking Jade upside the head with Mei’s approval, Grace sounded like she expected Jade’s compliance to be a foregone conclusion. Or else.

  Jade shook her head, feeling helpless. God save her from well-meaning best friends. And stubborn, bloody-minded younger sisters. Not to mention Machiavellian old men with powers beyond her comprehension and agendas she couldn’t even begin to fathom.

  “I suppose you told Mr. Stone all about my stint at art school, too.”

  Grace nodded. “You’d better believe I told him. And that your tutor couldn’t speak highly enough of you and was gutted when you dropped out.”

  Her shoulders slumped. Even though she knew Grace hadn’t been able to resist Pieter’s magical compulsion she couldn’t help feeling betrayed. Her artistic ability was an intensely private matter she didn’t discuss with anyone. Ever since she’d been old enough to hold a brush she’d dabbled with various mediums, but it wasn’t until she discovered portraiture that she found her passion. She’d painted a grand total of two portraits, and been informed by her tutor she had an incredible natural talent, before she’d quit art school and permanently shelved her dreams of a painting career to look after Mei. She hadn’t picked up a brush since. She’d told herself that in the grand scheme of things, painting was trivial.

  It was in her blood though—the desire to paint, the burning need to put brush to canvas. And her fingers still itched every single time she glimpsed someone whose face just cried out to be immortalized on canvas. Sometimes she’d wake with her fingers cramped and aching, and know deep down in her soul that she’d been painting phantom portraits for hour after hour in her dreams. So she was beyond hurt at the thought of something so precious to her being discussed with Pieter, a stranger.

  What other secrets might Pieter have wheedled from her best friend? Had the old man used his powers to minutely dissect every facet of Jade’s life thus far?

  She went cold at the mere thought of him cajoling Grace into revealing that Jade was—or had been—a virgin, and was scared to have sex because she’d almost been date-raped, and afterward she’d been publicly humiliated and had never gotten over it. Doubtless nothing about her life was sacred to Pieter.

  She shivered and wrapped her arms about her stomach in a vain attempt to soothe the churning mess of nerves and sickness.

  “I know how rabid you are about keeping your God-given talent private,” Grace said, peering worriedly at her. “I didn’t bring it up until he mentioned it, I swear. He’d already seen your, uh— He already knew.”

  “What aren’t you telling me, Grace? Spill it right now or I’ll… I’ll….”

  Grace perched on the arm of the couch and eyed her with annoying complacency. “You’ll what?”

  “I’ll have Aunt Lìli put a really nasty curse on you.” Right after she puts one on Pieter if he’s ever stupid enough to show his face again.

  Grace sniggered and lightly cuffed the back of Jade’s head. “Is that the best you can come up with? Puhlease. Your Aunt Lìli likes me. She’d never curse me. Besides, I don’t believe in curses.”

  “More fool you,” Jade said. “Aunt Lìli’s curses are not to be taken lightly. Remember Murray Blackwood?”

  Grace’s eyes wi
dened and she rubbed her arms through her robe. “Okay, point taken. But I can’t believe you’d stoop to threatening your best friend.”

  “Please tell me the truth, Gracie. I really don’t think I can handle any more surprises right now.”

  “Mr. Stone already knew you were an incredibly talented portrait-painter, J,” a soft voice intervened. “He knew because he’s seen one of your paintings.” Mei slid into the room, an ethereal wraith clad in delicate white broderie anglais-trimmed pajamas.

  Jade did the mental equivalent of a face-palm. Of course Pieter had tracked down one of her paintings. She’d been a fool to expect otherwise. The Crystal Guardian was nothing if not thorough.

  “Lemme guess. He visited you, too, and saw the one in your bedroom?”

  “No.” Mei exhaled sharply through her nose. “Mr. Stone spotted one of your portraits in a gallery. He was so taken with it he spoke to the gallery owner and tracked down the artist.”

  Of course the wily old bugger would have a carefully constructed cover story.

  Jade finally braved Mei’s gaze and found her sister’s face was pale and drawn. Even the short trip from her bedroom had fatigued her. Guilt for not noticing sooner, for not blowing Grace off and checking on her baby sister the minute she got home, washed through her.

  “Baby, come and sit down before you fall down.” She jumped to her feet, intending to put her arm around Mei and help her to the couch, but her sister brushed her off with a gesture and a scowl.

  “Stop babying me, J. I’m not a complete invalid—not yet, anyway.”

  Jade sank back into the couch and watched Mei lower herself slowly and painfully onto the cushions of the chair opposite. It tore her heart to see Mei like this, rail-thin and washed-out, lacking even the energy to lift her feet. She was a shadow of the exuberant, athletic teenager she’d once been. Virtually unrecognizable as the girl in the portrait.

  Seeing that painting nowadays bit at Jade’s soul. The contrast was almost too painful to bear. She shoved her despair aside, refusing to let Mei see any hint of what she felt. And as she strove for composure, the true significance of Mei’s words struck her.