Secrets in the Stone

by Radclyffe

  “Sit down and eat,” Pops said. “You haven’t been out of your shop more than a few hours in the last four days.”

  “I had those markers to finish,” Rooke said, doing what she was told. She hadn’t realized she was hungry until she started to eat.

  “Things at the Winchester place going to be okay until you get back?”

  “I need to clear that tree before I leave and check the roof.”

  Pops gave her an inquisitive look. “Getting kind of late in the day, isn’t it?”

  “I’ll take care of it.” Rooke was afraid to see Adrian, afraid to feel the distance that had been there the last time she’d seen her. It hurt, and she didn’t know how to change it.

  *

  Adrian paused, trying to place the sound that had intruded on her silence. In the city she was surrounded by the noise of millions of people, and she automatically relegated it to the periphery of her consciousness. On assignment she was completely different, always hyperalert to any change in the resonance of wildlife and humans that might signal danger. Today she’d been pulled from her work as if an unseen presence whispered her name. Setting aside the copy she’d been reviewing, she went to the kitchen window and scanned the yard. Rooke’s truck was parked at the foot of the drive, and Adrian now recognized the rumble of the chainsaw Dominic used to dismember the fallen oak. She braced her arms on the counter and watched them work. She hadn’t expected to see Rooke until Monday, and she hadn’t let herself think about how much she missed her. She didn’t want to examine the meaning behind her restless nights and fractured days, or why she’d never felt this way before. But with Rooke just outside, she couldn’t resist the pure pleasure of looking at her. So, safe inside the house, she indulged herself.

  Rooke was hatless and her hair blew around her angular face like a dark halo as she lifted a thick branch Dominic had cut free from the tangle of fallen limbs and dragged it out of the driveway. After a few minutes, Rooke removed her jacket and worked in nothing but a close-fitting flannel shirt and jeans. She looked even more slender than Adrian remembered, but the strength in her shoulders and back was obvious as she bent, and lifted, and tossed the fresh-cut logs aside with ease. Muscles bunched inside her jeans, and Adrian couldn’t help but remember the way the hard curves of Rooke’s ass had fit so naturally to her pelvis when they’d stood close together on top of the dresser in the attic that first night. The whispered memory of Rooke’s thumb brushing over the top of her hand triggered a kaleidoscope of images and sensations, ambushing her. Her vision flared red with the crimson of Rooke’s blood running over her hands, the scarlet flames from the hearth in the Great Hall, the claret drops of rain on a window. Ruby tears streaking her face in the shadows on a midnight train. Adrian shuddered, aching to be touched, to be filled, for the fires of passion to purify her.

  “God,” Adrian gasped. Her breasts were tight, her sex wet and hollow with urgency. She kept her hands anchored on the cool tile counter. The wild filaments of her need and desire coalesced into a single hard, hot fist in the center of her being. And then, Say yes, Melinda whispered. Adrian jerked, her knees buckling with the keening pressure, and orgasm threatened to flow on the river of sharp, swift pain. She fought the swell of release, staring through dry, unblinking eyes at Rooke, who had stopped work and was fixed on her, framed in the window.

  “Please,” Adrian implored, her words barely audible. Rooke’s face swam in her hazy consciousness as she fought to expel other voices, other hands. The shadow of the warrior flickered in the firelight on the towering stone walls. A great sword, shimmering with power, cleaved her in two and the chaos that had almost consumed her faded.

  “Thank you,” Adrian sighed, pressing her palm to the glass. She started to smile, started to say, Come inside, I’ve missed you, but every thought, every intention, died on a tide of horror as a spear, glinting golden in the sunlight, struck Rooke in the temple, and she fell.

  Chapter Twenty

  “Fuck!” Dominic dropped to his knees next to Rooke’s supine form. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!”

  “Don’t touch her!” Adrian shouted, flying down the icy drive. She threw herself between Rooke’s body and Dominic, striking him on both shoulders with her outstretched arms, knocking him backward into the snow. “Don’t you touch her!”

  Terrified at what she might find, Adrian bent over Rooke, shielding her from dangers she felt but couldn’t see. Garnet jewels lay scattered on the snow around Rooke’s head, glinting brilliantly. Rooke’s blood. Shiny maroon trails snaked down Rooke’s still face from a gash just above her right eyebrow. Something white gleamed in the depth of the wound. Bone. A scream lodged in Adrian’s throat.

  “Rooke. Rooke, sweetheart.” She hovered over Rooke’s body, afraid to touch her. What would she find? Oh God, let her not be gone. “Rooke, please.”

  “She okay?” Dominic yelled frantically.

  “She’s not moving!” Adrian’s voice came out a broken whisper. Oh God. Oh God, baby, who did this to you?

  “Adrian?” Dominic yelled in a panic.

  “Call nine-one-one,” Adrian called more forcefully, pulling herself together. When she had needed Rooke, Rooke was there. Now Rooke needed her. She’d seen plenty of emergencies, and she concentrated on doing what she could. She stretched for Rooke’s jacket hanging from a nearby branch of the downed tree, pulled it free, and covered her. “You’re going to be all right. Do you hear me? You’re going to be all right.”

  Rooke’s lids flickered open and she jerked, as if surprised to be awake. “Adrian?”

  “Yes, yes—I’m right here.” Adrian’s fingers shook as she caressed Rooke’s cheek. She was wonderfully warm, magnificently alive, perfectly beautiful. “Do you know where you are?”

  “Your front yard. Why is Dom sitting in a snowbank?”

  “I knocked him on his ass.” Adrian’s laugh came out on a sob of relief. She found Rooke’s hand and clutched it between both of hers. Rooke’s fingers were ice cold. For a heartbeat Adrian saw the ruins of a great castle, crumbling stones lying half buried under grassy mounds of earth, the huge hearth empty and barren. Nowhere could she sense the sword bearer, no guardian stood on the parapets. She swallowed around the choking loss and smiled at Rooke. “You have to start wearing gloves.”

  “Never liked them.” Rooke shuddered. “What hit me?”

  “A tree branch masquerading as a spear.”

  “Are you all right?”

  “Just a little scared.” Adrian held Rooke’s hand against her heart. “How are you?”

  “Okay, I think.” Rooke squeezed Adrian’s hand. “Shouldn’t have left my shield at home, I guess.”

  “Next time you forget, I’ll lend you mine,” Adrian tried to joke. Rooke was as white as the snow that pillowed her head, and Adrian couldn’t help but think about the scar on her forehead. She’d suffered a terrible head injury once already, and another blow like this one could seriously damage her.

  Rooke must have read her fears, because she started to sit up. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  “No, stay still.” Adrian quickly pressed a hand to Rooke’s shoulder. “We should wait for the ambulance.”

  “I’ll freeze to death by then.” Rooke smiled as Dominic scrambled over and crouched down on Rooke’s opposite side. “Hey, Dom? How about helping me up here.”

  Dominic regarded Adrian warily. “Fuck me, Rooke. I don’t how that happened. I cut through a limb and the damn thing took off like a missile. Jesus. You okay?”

  “Of course she’s not okay,” Adrian snapped. “Look at her forehead.”

  “I called the EMTs,” Dominic muttered.

  “Give me a hand getting to the truck,” Rooke said.

  Adrian kept her hold on Rooke’s shoulder, preventing her from rising. The bleeding had stopped, but Rooke’s pain was so clear to her, Adrian felt dizzy. “I don’t think you should move. You were unconscious.”

  “I think I was mostly shocked,” Rooke said, her eyes on Adria
n’s. “I remember getting hit. I heard you yelling at Dom. I heard you say my name. I heard you the whole time.”

  “You were hit hard enough to knock you down, and when I got here, you weren’t moving.” Adrian’s voice caught on the edge of remembered fear. Rooke must have heard her call her sweetheart, but Adrian couldn’t worry about her slip now. Rooke might easily have been killed. The mere thought of Rooke being ripped from her life was soul shattering.

  “Hey,” Rooke murmured, loosening her hand from Adrian’s grasp to caress Adrian’s cheek. “I’m right here. Safe and sound and all in one piece.”

  “I know,” Adrian said, trying to appear strong while terror still clawed at her insides.

  “There’s only one problem.”

  “What?” Adrian said urgently.

  “My butt is frozen.”

  Adrian tugged her lower lip between her teeth, poised between tears and laughter. Rooke’s eyes were clear, her hand on Adrian’s face steady. “You need stitches.”

  “Maybe, but not in my ass.” Rooke extended her free arm to Dominic. “Give me a lift?”

  “Sure thing,” Dominic said.

  “Be careful,” Adrian said, slipping her arm around Rooke’s waist as Dominic helped her upright.

  “Don’t worry,” Dominic muttered. “Like a baby.”

  Rooke grimaced at the sound of fast approaching sirens. “Damn. I don’t need them. Hell, half the town will hear about it if—”

  “They’re going to look at you. Don’t argue.” Adrian pointed toward the truck. “Dominic, put the tailgate down so she can sit.”

  “Yes ma’am. You got her?”

  Adrian tightened her hold on Rooke. “I have her.”

  “Someone needs to call Pops,” Rooke said. “News travels fast around here.”

  “Dominic,” Adrian said, “after the EMTs check Rooke out, you can take her truck back to the cemetery and tell Pops what happened. I’m going with her to the emergency room.” When she saw the frown forming between Rooke’s eyebrows, she pointed a finger at her. “No. You need that laceration taken care of.”

  “I hear you,” Rooke sighed.

  “Call me when you’re finished in the ER, and I’ll come and get you.” Dominic hurried toward the front of Rooke’s truck as the fire rescue vehicle pulled up the drive. When two EMTs climbed out, he pointed toward Rooke perched on the tailgate and then climbed into the cab, closing the door behind him.

  “It wasn’t his fault,” Rooke said, easing into her jacket.

  “I know it wasn’t.” Adrian rubbed Rooke’s back. Accidents happened, especially in Rooke’s line of work. But she’d seen the gleaming shaft fly with deadly accuracy right at Rooke’s head, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that some unseen hand had flung it. Some angry force bent on breaking the connection between them. She shivered.

  “You have to stop running after me with no jacket or boots,” Rooke chided. “Go back to the house and get some warmer clothes.”

  “Not until the EMTs look at you. I don’t want them taking you anywhere while I’m gone.”

  “I won’t go anywhere without you.” Rooke linked her fingers through Adrian’s. “Promise.”

  Wishing that were as simple as it sounded, Adrian shook her head. “I’m not leaving you. Don’t ask me to.”

  *

  The ER in the small local hospital wasn’t busy on a Saturday afternoon, and they didn’t have to wait long to be seen. Almost as soon as the receptionist made a copy of Rooke’s medical card, an ER technician called her name and led her and Adrian to a tiny examining room.

  “The doctor will be right in,” the tech said. He raised the back on a narrow stretcher and helped Rooke climb up. When Rooke settled onto it, he handed her a clipboard and a pen. “This is a medical history form. You can fill it out while you’re waiting.”

  “Okay, thanks,” Rooke replied, staring at the clipboard.

  Adrian waited until the technician left before speaking. “Why don’t you lean back and close your eyes. I’ll read this out loud and you can tell me the answers. If that’s okay.”

  A muscle in Rooke’s jaw bunched, but she nodded and silently held out the clipboard.

  “Close your eyes.” Adrian softly brushed a thick shock of hair away from the stark white bandage an EMT had taped over the gash in Rooke’s forehead. A crimson circle marred the snowy surface.

  “Thanks.” Rooke closed her eyes, but her fists were clenched tightly at her sides.

  Adrian pulled over a stool and read out the items on the medical form, filling in blanks and checking boxes as needed. When she got to the family history section, she hesitated. “They want to know if anyone in your family has a serious medical problem, like high blood pressure or cancer or heart disease.”

  “Not that I know of.” Rooke opened her eyes. “Pops is really healthy. My parents died young.”

  “I know your mother was only nineteen,” Adrian said gently. “You never mentioned your dad.”

  “He was killed in the first Iraq war when I was six. He was twenty-five.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “I only remember him a little. He was away a lot.” Rooke grimaced. “I guess you know I don’t have any information about my grandmother.”

  “What about your other grandmother. Pops’s wife?”

  “I never knew her. She had some kind of brain thing when my father was just a baby.” Rooke smiled wryly. “I think that’s why Pops is so good at raising kids. He’s had a lot of practice.”

  “He’s wonderful.”

  “Yeah. He hasn’t had it easy, I guess.”

  Adrian regarded Rooke steadily. “I didn’t see any sign of him complaining. In fact, it was pretty clear to me he’s crazy about you.” Adrian took a breath and let it out. “You’re lucky.”

  “Why do you sound sad?”

  “Do I?” Adrian forced a bright note into her voice. “I suppose I’m a little jealous. My parents don’t approve of a lot of my choices.”

  “Why?” Rooke started to sit up and Adrian quickly grasped her arm, stopping her.

  “You’re supposed to be quiet,” Adrian said sternly. “That means lie still.”

  “What about your parents?”

  “They’re disappointed I didn’t go into business and upset that I haven’t settled down the way they think I should.”

  “Settle down,” Rooke repeated. “Like married?”

  Adrian balanced the clipboard on her knee. “They’ve never spelled it out, but I’m pretty sure they’d like me to meet a rising business tycoon, preferably male, and move into a condo on the Upper East Side and have 2.7 kids. Writing is not a career as far as they’re concerned.”

  “They don’t get that what you’re doing is really important?”

  Rooke’s voice held a note of incredulity that blunted the edges of Adrian’s pain. Smiling with genuine amusement, she shook her head. “They haven’t gotten that message yet.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “That’s okay,” Adrian said, realizing that it really was. She’d made the choices her heart had dictated, and her path had brought her here. She had no regrets. “I’m where I want to be.”

  “I’m gla—”

  “Hello!” A rotund, sandy-haired man in his forties bounced into the room, beaming as if he’d been invited to a party. “I’m Dr. Ackerman. I understand you went a few rounds with a tree limb this afternoon.”

  He removed the gauze pad, shined a light on the laceration, and made a series of indecipherable doctor sounds. Finally nodding, he stepped back and rolled a metal stand holding a wrapped instrument tray next to the stretcher. “Nice clean laceration. You’re probably going to have a black eye and a headache, but it doesn’t look too serious. You will need some stitches.”

  “What about x-rays?” Adrian didn’t want to intrude, but every time she thought of Rooke lying so still in the snow her stomach got jittery and she had to fight back a wave of panic.

  “Don’t see any real nee
d for them,” he said cheerfully. “Simple blunt force trauma, and I can see that the bone isn’t fractured.” He inserted the needle end of a syringe into a clear vial of liquid. “Any allergies or medication I need to know about?”

  Adrian kept quiet, although it took effort. Safeguarding Rooke’s privacy was important, especially when Rooke’s personal business had been the object of scrutiny and discussion her entire life. Nevertheless, Adrian had to clamp her teeth together not to blurt out what she knew of Rooke’s medical history. She held her breath, waiting.

  “Dilantin and phenobarbital,” Rooke said at last.

  “Hmm,” the doctor said as he wiped antiseptic around the edges of the laceration and injected it. “What’s the origin of—”

  Rooke’s cell phone rang and she yanked it off her belt. She held it out to Adrian as the doctor placed sterile towels around her head. “Would you mind, Adrian? It’s probably Pops. Tell him it’s nothing.”

  “I’ll take care of it.” Adrian grabbed the phone and flipped it open. “Hello. This is Adrian Oakes.”

  “Well this is a pleasant surprise, darling,” Melinda’s honey-warm voice announced. “How nice to have you both. Where is our gorgeous Rooke, then?”

  Our Rooke? Icicles crystallized in Adrian’s veins, and she gripped the phone so hard she was surprised the case didn’t crack. “Rooke is busy right now. I’ll tell her—”

  “Busy. Should I guess doing what?” Melinda’s laugh suggested she was contemplating a lascivious secret.

  Adrian turned her back to the bed and lowered her voice. “She can tell you herself when she’s free.”

  “Really, darling, there’s no need to be defensive. You know very well I’d like nothing better than to see you two together. Not exactly see, of course. I was thinking of something a little more intimate.”