“Has a woman been in this room?”
Raphael’s eyes widened then narrowed to slits, making them look sinister. “No women.”
He was wrong or lying. There had been a woman. She’d given birth in that bed. “Those are interesting tattoos,” she said, looking at the little dots and lines patterned across his cheek.
He took a couple of steps back. “This should be all you need. Sleep well. I will see you tomorrow.” He hurried to the door.
She turned to find Jake studying her over a glass of wine. “You definitely make him nervous. Why were you grilling him about his tattoos?”
“I wanted to see his reaction. His tattoos have something to do with this place.”
“’Course they do. Secret orders usually have some kind of identifying mark.”
“He said the place belongs to a foundation, not a secret order.”
Jake cocked an eyebrow. “He’s not gonna admit it’s a secret order. That’s the secret part.”
“He’s unusual, to say the least. And did you notice he knew we spoke English before we opened our mouths?”
“Probably heard you talking from the other side of the bridge.”
“You seem particularly crabby.”
“Chasing reckless women through the woods has that effect on me.”
“I’m not reckless. I know what I’m doing.”
“Then why did Nathan send me?”
“Because two heads are better than one.” But he was right, Nathan expected Jake to protect her. This job was far more dangerous than any other she had done for Nathan. She didn’t just know this because he’d sent a big badass bodyguard with a gun to accompany her. She could sense it. “I want to look inside the library.”
Jake raised both brows this time. “I assure you, Raphael does not want you in his library.”
“I think there’s something inside that’s connected to the box.”
“This one of your feelings?”
She nodded. “I don’t know if it’s the box itself or a clue, but I need to see. If we don’t find this box, something bad is going to happen.”
“If Raphael catches you in his library, something bad is going to happen. All the more reason to wait until he thinks we’re asleep.” Jake set down the glass of wine, which he hadn’t drunk, and picked up the basket Raphael left. “Since we’ll be sleeping together, I’m going to attempt washing off. I’d hate to get you sweaty.”
“Sleeping together?”
“Unless you want the floor. Lock the door, will you? And I wouldn’t touch the food or wine.”
“You think it’s poisoned?”
“I wouldn’t put it past him.”
As soon as the garderobe door shut, she grabbed a flashlight. She understood that he was just doing his job, but she was just doing hers. Some risks had to be taken, and Raphael hadn’t forbidden them to leave the room.
Creeping to the door, she made sure Raphael wasn’t lurking outside, and then hurried down the stairs to the second floor. The castle was deadly quiet except for those whispers tugging at her ears. If only she understood what they were saying. She didn’t encounter Raphael. He must have been busy standing watch. As difficult as it was to find the place, she couldn’t imagine Raphael ran into too many trespassers like her and Jake. Trespassers. The word made her head swim, but she didn’t have time to sort through it now.
Most of the pieces of artwork in the hallway were copies of famous paintings, many of them of Christ, his birth, his baptism, the Garden of Gethsemane, the Crucifixion, and the Last Supper. They were amazingly authentic looking. It was frustrating trying to examine them so quickly and with only a flashlight, but she had to get back before Jake discovered her missing. And she still needed to see the library. She slipped down to the first floor. The door to the library was closed but not locked. Looking over her shoulder, she turned the handle and slipped inside, closing the door behind her. Her skin began to tingle as she approached the tapestry. The scene was vivid. Blood and water ran from the spear wound in Christ’s side, and the Roman soldier was looking up at him as Mary knelt at her son’s feet. Kendall let her fingers brush the tapestry. A sharp pain struck her side and she doubled over, unable to breathe.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
She jumped and her flashlight catapulted into the air. She knew immediately that it was Jake by the masculine scent that said, “I’m in charge and I’m pissed.” He caught the flashlight with one hand and stepped closer, his body taut with anger.
“Are you insane?” he hissed. “I told you to wait until tonight.”
“I couldn’t,” she said, holding one hand against her side.
“What if Raphael had found you?”
“I would have made up some excuse,” she gritted between her teeth. “And he didn’t tell us we weren’t allowed to leave the room.”
“He didn’t have to. Have you seen the way he looks at you? He would have that cross off your neck the minute your head left your body.” He jabbed his finger at her for effect.
Kendall gulped and put a hand to her throat. “Get your finger out of my face.”
He did but replaced it with his nose. “This is your last warning. You don’t go anywhere alone, do you understand? You don’t even take a crap without telling me. I’ll be damned if I’ll explain to Nathan that you’re dead. If I have to, I’ll tie you to the damn bed. You can do your divining from there.” He looked down at her hand, and his frown softened. “Why are you holding your side? Are you hurt?”
“I picked up something from the tapestry.”
Jake turned his light on the tapestry and then looked down at her side again, his brows lifted in surprise. The embrace caught her off guard.
“I appreciate the hug,” she wheezed, “but really, the pain is almost gone.”
“Be quiet,” he breathed in her ear. “We have company.” She felt him reach around and pull out his gun. Footsteps sounded in the hall, slowing outside the library door. A second later, the door opened.
She leaned her forehead against Jake’s shoulder and concentrated on the mesmerizing thump of his heartbeat, trying to steady her own. Dum dum. Dum dum. Dum dum. Strong, warm, vivid colors...then dark, gray, and cold. She lifted her head, disturbed at what she’d sensed. The figure left, closing the door behind him.
“I don’t think that was Raphael,” she whispered.
“Whoever he was, he’s gone. Hurry. If we get caught, he’ll try to throw us out. I’d hate to have to kill someone just so we can find a box.”
“I hope you’re being sarcastic.”
He didn’t answer. He left their hiding place and checked the hallway. “It’s clear, stay close.” Jake led the way, stopping near a small door on the third floor. “Do you hear that?”
“Hear what?”
“Sounded like someone singing.” He frowned and put his ear to the door.
“I don’t see Raphael as a singer.” Kendall joined him, listening at the door. “I hear it. You sure it’s singing? Maybe it’s crying. Someone could be in trouble. We should investigate.”
“No.”
She grabbed his shirt as he started to walk away. “Someone could be hurt. Raphael could be keeping prisoners here.”
She felt something dark settle over him, an emotion so thick she didn’t need lights or any paranormal abilities to feel it grip him. And just as strongly, she felt it leave. He had pushed it away. Fear, memory, whatever it was.
“We’ll check it out later, after Raphael’s asleep,” Jake said.
“What if Raphael doesn’t sleep?”
“Everyone sleeps.”
“Vampires don’t.”
“If he’s a vampire we’ll definitely kill him. Come on. I’m not letting you foul up this assignment.” He took her arm and pulled her down the hall. Walking quietly—he more so than she, since he moved like a ghost—they hurried to their room. He opened the door and they went inside. He locked the door, and then stuck the key in his pocket. “That’s
so you don’t leave again.”
“You think that will stop me?”
He gave her a rather nasty grin, pulled the key from his pocket and stuck it down the front of his underwear. “Go ahead.”
“Bastard.”
“Sticks and stones...” He pulled an empty water bottle from his pack. “You got any water left? I need to brush my teeth.”
“I found another one from the inn.” She handed him the bottle and watched him walk to the garderobe door. “Would you really kill Raphael?”
He stopped, hand on the doorknob. “Not if I don’t have to. If you follow instructions, we’ll get out without having to hurt anyone. You use your mojo and find the damn box. Let me handle the dangerous stuff.”
“I know you’re trying to help in your own brutish way, but this tough-guy stuff is getting old. I’m not a china doll and I have a brain in addition to the breasts you keep staring at.”
His mouth twitched. “What did you feel when you touched the tapestry?”
“I felt as if I’d been stabbed in the side.”
“Uh...that was Christ’s crucifixion.”
“Yeah.”
“You felt it?” His expression was a combination of disbelief, fascination, and alarm.
“Just the stabbing, although I’m sure it was just a hint of what it really felt like.” She shuddered thinking what it would have been like to experience the other. Crucifixion was a cruel death.
“And this happens to you a lot?”
“No. Usually it’s simpler, like touching a figurine and knowing that it was made in the twentieth century, not the tenth. That’s why Nathan hired me.” She gave a frustrated sigh and turned away. A second later, she heard Jake close the door.
A small desk and chair had been placed against one wall. She pulled out the chair and sat. A jolt shot through her body, flattening her against the back of the chair. She felt her arms moving, even though she could see they were still pinned in her lap.
Trembling hands held a piece of paper. She couldn’t read the words, but she could feel the anguish written there. A tear dropped onto the page, and then the hands folded the letter and reached under the desk...
The vision vanished abruptly. Her hands were free, her body released. She jumped from the chair and turned to find Jake, but he was still in the garderobe. What was happening to her? She’d never had so many intense visions this close together. It must be this place.
She lowered her body into the chair again, slowly letting her full weight settle. She waited. No vision, nothing. The desk appeared ordinary. Two drawers, four legs. She opened each drawer and found it empty. She tried to recall the writing she’d seen on the paper. Italian maybe—she wasn’t sure. She remembered the hands reaching underneath the drawer, so she ran her fingers along the bottom. At first she didn’t find anything. Then she felt the crinkle of paper. She got out of the chair and squatted. A scrap of paper was stuck to the bottom of the drawer. She moved the chair and scooted the desk out from the wall, tipping it back to expose the underside.
“You dismantling the furniture now?”
She whirled and saw Jake enter the room, shirtless.
Holy mackerel. His bare chest was as sexy as she remembered. Broad shoulders tapering to sculpted abs that made her itch to touch them. The faintest dusting of hair shadowed the center of his chest and another trailed from his navel, disappearing under his jeans. And she remembered what that looked like too. She jerked her gaze away. “There’s a piece of paper stuck here.”
Without making a noise, he appeared at her side. “What is it?”
“Part of a letter, I think.”
He squatted and took a look. “Do I want to know how you knew it was there?”
“No. I’m trying not to tear it.”
“I’ll push the bottom of the drawer away from the paper; you try to work it free.”
The space was small for two people. Her cheek was pressed against his shoulder as she reached underneath the table.
“Good thing I washed off, since your nose is almost in my armpit.”
“Yes, thank goodness,” she agreed, joking, but in truth, his scent was playing havoc with her senses. He smelled clean, but masculine, and that sexy line of muscle running along his side made her want to touch skin instead of paper.
She freed the paper except for one edge. “Can you push up on the drawer a little more at the back?” She turned and caught him sniffing her hair.
“Your hair smells good.”
“Uh, thanks.”
“So does the rest of you.” His voice was too close. He was too close. She gave the paper one more gentle tug and pulled it free. She quickly stood, trying to put some space between them.
“What does it say?” Jake asked, setting the table back on the floor.
“There isn’t much writing, but I think it’s Italian. The paper has been here a while. The ink is faded.”
Jake studied it with her. “Do you think it’s connected to the box?”
“I don’t know. I’m not getting anything.”
“Paranormal juice dried up?”
She frowned. He was probably right. All this activity was draining her.
“You can study it. I’m going to get some sleep. We have a lot of work to do tonight.” He took out his gun and a knife and put them on the floor beside his boots. Then he unbuckled his pants and let them drop.
Double holy mackerel.
He dropped onto the bed, lay back, and closed his eyes.
“How can you sleep? Raphael might come back with a whole tribe of guards and kill us.”
“He wouldn’t need a tribe to kill us. But the door’s locked.” He adjusted his pillow, which made an interesting play of muscles across his abs. “He doesn’t want us dead. At least not yet.”
“Yet?”
“First he needs to find out where you got the cross.”
“Then he’ll kill us?”
“We’ll be gone before he has the chance.” Jake wiggled his shoulders, getting comfortable, creating more muscle play to tempt her. “In the meantime, I need rest in case I have to rescue you.”
“Do you have to be so insulting?”
“Not if you weren’t so obstinate. Come on. We both need sleep. It’s gonna be a long night. God knows where this box is.”
“You can have the bed. I’ll...” She looked around the room. There was nowhere else to sleep. Unless she sat in the chair.
“Don’t be a prude. I’m not going to attack you.”
“I don’t know how you can sleep,” she grumbled, although she was exhausted.
“You close your eyes, clear your mind, and ignore any distractions.” One eye opened and he gave her a withering one-eyed stare before closing it again. “Then you go to sleep.”
Kendall wasn’t ready to crawl in bed next to Jake Stone in all his masculine glory just yet. She made another sweep of the room, dragging her fingers over surfaces hoping to find something else that would give her some idea who these people were and where they might be keeping the box. But she got nothing more.
“Are you coming to bed?”
“With you in your underwear?”
“I can take it off if it bothers you.”
She cursed him under her breath and flung back the covers on her side. She climbed into the bed, fully clothed, and lay stiffly, so close to the edge that if she sneezed she would roll off. Something was digging into her shoulder. She rolled onto her back, but she had to keep her arms stiff to keep from touching Jake. Touching Jake would be a bad idea, because her girl parts wanted it too much. Her brain, on the other hand, said, “Run.”
The mattress squeaked and Jake’s upper body loomed over her. “Are you gonna toss all night?”
She shrank back into the mattress. “This bed’s uncomfortable and I’m cold.” She regretted the words as soon as the wicked grin formed on his lips.
“Bet I could warm you up.”
She’d bet he could too. The sound of his voice was already
making her hot. And he was close enough that she knew he had removed the key from his underwear. She put her hand on his chest. Firm. Warm. Male...“Down, boy,” she said and pushed him away. She rolled closer to the edge again. He chuckled and the mattress dipped as he lay back on his side of the bed.
“Sleep tight, Legs.”
“You too, jackass.”
Minutes later he was asleep. It took her longer. She wasn’t used to sleeping next to a male. Other than her father or Adam on a dig, she could count on half a hand the number of times she’d woken up with a man. Jake was nothing like her father. And Adam hadn’t gotten the chance to become a man.
She listened to the steady breathing and occasional mutter that everyone makes, even a big, tough bodyguard like Jake. She drifted off listening to him breathe and didn’t wake until the ghost came.
CHAPTER SIX
HE STOOD BY the bed, a shadowy figure in a dark garment, his head covered by a cowl. At first she thought it was Raphael, until her eyes adjusted to the soft glow cast by the lantern and she noticed that she could see through him to the wall. She lay there, frozen, while he stared at her. She could feel waves of sadness rolling off him even though she couldn’t see his face. She reached back for Jake, but he didn’t wake.
The ghost turned from her and began to pace the floor, head lowered. Every now and then he would look back at the bed. Then he turned suddenly and vanished into the wall. She sat up. “Jake,” she whispered. “Wake up.”
He didn’t wake, so she shook him. He still didn’t move, so she shook him harder, and when that didn’t work, she slapped him. Then she became alarmed. Jake was too alert to sleep through a beating. She pulled the covers down and put her ear against his chest. It was warm and his heartbeat was strong. What was wrong with him? Had he been drugged? They hadn’t eaten or drunk anything from the castle. She had to get help.
She started to the door, and then remembered the key. She knew it wasn’t in his underwear, so she checked under his pillow and found it there. She hurried to the door and unlocked it, but it still wouldn’t open. She yanked on the knob and then the door in vain. They were prisoners.
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