The Raven's Trail (Book 1)

by Liz D. Marx

  A frown marred her beautiful brow. “I’ve always had a knack for learning, I guess.”

  “Why?”

  She hesitated and looked slightly uncomfortable.

  “Chloe,” he whispered, lifting her chin up with his fingers. “You can trust me.”

  The wrinkles knitting her brow dissolved as she gazed back at him. Then she took a deep breath and said, “Don’t laugh, but when I was a child, I had an invisible friend. I called her Lady. She told me about this amazing ancient tribe of warriors who used their animal souls to hunt and win battles. She taught me their songs and their language. It all felt so real, so amazing. She also told me I was special and that one day I would be called upon to continue their legacy.” She shrugged, then let out a sarcastic chuckle. “Unfortunately, my mother didn’t like the sound of that.”

  She said that as if it didn’t matter, but Mason knew she was playing tough, that it had mattered to the young Chloe and it still mattered to her today. Chloe’s voice, her body language, the way she wouldn’t meet his eye, told him as much.

  “What happened after that?”

  “Oh, you know, the usual. Scared for my mental health, my mother took me to an endless list of doctors who tried to ‘cure’ me. At first I got angry at her for not believing in me, but then I saw how much my craziness was affecting her, so I ended up agreeing to the treatments. Then one day, Lady stopped visiting me, so I thought I had been cured, you know―that my invisible friend had been just a childhood thing. But then the stone came along, and then you.”

  “What about me?”

  Chloe bit her lips again. “When I saw you at the Mountain Tower, I knew it.”

  “Knew what?” It was his turn to frown.

  “That you were the one to help me.”

  Mason was startled by her answer, at the same time that a strange sense of pride engulfed his heart, as if his soul was honored to have been chosen. It had been such a long time since he last felt proud of something he’d done or of who he was that he almost didn’t recognize the warmth in his chest. But once again, his mind didn’t fail to acknowledge how good it felt.

  So damn good.

  “You promised not to laugh,” she wailed, probably mistaking his shy smile for scorn.

  “I’m not laughing, I’m…flattered.”

  Could he tell her he knew exactly what she was talking about? And that the tribe her invisible friend described sounded awfully like his own Tula tribe?

  He brushed the line of her jaw with the back of his fingers and whispered, “You can’t imagine what a blessing your words are to me, Chloe. I’m not laughing, I’m just so damn glad you found me.”

  She let out a surprised gasp, as if she hadn’t expected him to want her. But by the gods, he did. The woman in front of him was amazing. A warrior of the highest rank, second to none. She was smart, enticing, crazy, mesmerizing, and yeah, sexy as hell. And seeing his own desire reflected in her green eyes took him over the edge and crushed the last bricks of the wall around his heart.

  Unable to contain himself any longer, Mason closed the gap between them and kissed her on the lips.

  Chloe melted into Mason’s arms as his lips captured hers. His kiss was warm and confident, and she returned it with the same longing and passion. In an instant, she forgot about everything that had happened—the chasing, the doubts, the stone, the horrible killings. She needed this, needed him.

  His left hand held her head in place while the other massaged her lower back and his tongue explored her mouth. His caresses felt like a feather against her skin, yet left a trail of heat in their wake.

  Mason’s lips left hers and made their way down her jaw and neck as he lay her gently on the ground—his imposing figure hovered above her, his half-lidded eyes reflecting her own craving. This felt good, it felt right.

  His callused hand cup her right cheek, beckoning her to meet his gaze. “You are stunning, Chloe.”

  Oh, wow.

  She gasped, unable to contain the drumming in her chest and the butterflies in her tummy. Of all the languages she could speak, not even one single word managed to come to her blurry mind.

  Something momentous stirred inside her, like an ancient longing that had finally been released and allowed to explode. It was so intense, so wild―so raw―that it scared her, but she couldn’t stop it; she didn’t want to.

  She ran her hands along his back, pulling him closer, and became inebriated from the delicious muskiness of his male scent. When his lips travelled down her neck, she tipped her head back and opened herself to his love.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Pamela’s feet were getting sore. She needed a bath and an hour-long massage to relax her tired muscles.

  After spending the whole day in the made-for-adventure-not-comfort Range Rover roaming through the national park, she had left Dwayne in charge and gone back to Hot Springs just in time to greet her boss.

  Johnny was yet to come through with his end of the bargain. He had directed them to the mouth of a hidden underground cave in the middle of nowhere and swore that Mason would take the stone there.

  Dwayne had wanted to eliminate the kid right there and then, but Pamela had managed to convince the brainless hitman that they would probably need Johnny as leverage later on. She left them setting up camp a few miles from the spot.

  Her boss’ private jet landed on the tarmac and prepared to stop near the isolated hangar she had rented for the night. The plane’s doors opened and a tall man appeared on the narrow exit.

  Nearing his mid-thirties, she assumed, her boss was quite the looker. Tall, blond, with a hard jaw and broad shoulders―picture perfect. Women fell for him everywhere he went. If it wasn’t his 007 looks, it was his amazing suits and impeccable grooming.

  William Crawford smelled of money, and loved to flaunt it whenever he could―except for when he was working at The Smithsonian. Pamela had a few theories about the reason for that but, as Crawford had put it himself, it was truly none of her business.

  “Good evening, William,” Pamela shouted over the plane’s dying turbines. “Did you have an enjoyable flight?”

  “Yes,” Crawford replied dryly. “Did you book my room?”

  “Yes, your penthouse at the Hilton is ready,” she replied, leading him to the silver Jaguar XF parked by the narrow runway. A bulky driver opened the door as soon as he saw the boss approaching.

  They all got into the car and left the small airport.

  As soon as the driver turned on Albert Pike Road, William asked, “Where’s Mason, Pamela? Have we got him?”

  “Soon, sir. Very soon.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Mason lifted his arms up and stretched out. The night had turned out to be warmer than expected and, surprisingly, his muscles weren’t sore from sleeping on the ground. Well, maybe it was because they had barely slept more than two hours at a time.

  He couldn’t help it. Chloe was just too delicious to be left alone. The long hours of the night had flown by between chats, snoozes and more lovemaking. When the first rays of sunshine hit the mountains, they gave up and went to find themselves some breakfast.

  They found succulent blackberries and Osage oranges that were just screaming to be eaten. Drawing on his noo-hi and careful not to be caught red-handed by Chloe again, Mason found some flycatcher’s eggs that went fantastically well with the homemade bread he had taken before they fled the Caddo Village.

  Mason stretched his neck as he watched Chloe help him clean up the campfire. Her golden locks and fair complexion glimmered with the early sunshine. She had left her hair loose after Mason had spent a good half-hour hand-combing the wild locks. They hung smoothly just below her jaw line, perfectly matching her heart-shaped face and beautiful eyes.

  The corner of his mouth curled up in a smile with the thought of causing her locks to tangle all over again tonight when they went to bed. Oh yes, he was looking forward to it.

  As if on cue, Chloe looked up and awarded him with t
he most enigmatic of grins. While Mason’s chest flooded with love, his rational mind―finally deciding to wake up―cringed in retaliation. What the hell was he doing?

  “I’m actually quite full,” Chloe said, putting away the last few traces of their stay.

  Mason could only nod in reply because the avalanche of thoughts had started in his head, darkening his mood the way a gray cloud blocked the sun.

  He had been sloppy for allowing this affair with Chloe to happen. Until today, his M.O. had been simple and straightforward―conquer, have fun, leave. No strings attached, no heartaches, no promises to be broken, and most important of all, no falling in love. His curse had forced him to build a wall around his heart. His “special condition” was too complicated to allow romantic attachments that lasted more than one night.

  How could he think of sharing a life with someone mortal? His wife would grow old while he remained the same. At some point she would definitely get suspicious, so yeah, no long-lasting romances for him.

  But to be honest, he had never cared before; he had never missed being in a relationship before―the expected pampering, the social rituals, the boredom of settling down and the unavoidable death of passion that always followed―none of that had appealed to him before. He had been quite satisfied with his one-night stands, but now his petite tornado had turned up and changed everything. Chloe was more than that―she deserved more than that. Besides, they had shared something much bigger than just a night together.

  But would he have the guts to tell her the truth? The sheer thought of doing it brought bile to his mouth.

  When his emotional sun seemed completely engulfed by the dark cloud of reality, crushing any thoughts of a future with Chloe, the ghost of an idea formed in his mind. It was far-fetched but it might just work―if Chloe was right and they found Mantaka, he might be able to use the stone to find a cure for his condition and avoid having to tell her the truth altogether.

  Yes, there were many ifs in his plan, but it sounded much more promising than sharing his real story with Chloe.

  “So where to now?” she said as she closed the gap between them and hugged him by the waist.

  “Well, we came here to find Mantaka, so let’s keep looking,” he replied, then drew her lips into a kiss.

  She not only returned it but matched the intensity of Mason’s passion, giving him more ammunition to go ahead with his plan. He didn’t want to lose this woman, so he had to find a way of breaking the curse.

  After coming out for air, she murmured, “I think we should get going before we don’t go at all.”

  “That’s wise advice,” he replied against her delicious lips.

  She snaked out of his embrace and took the stone out of her bag.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Throughout the night―well, in the few hours we actually slept,” she said with a cute impish smile, “I had these dreams where I was by an amazing waterfall, holding the stone up.”

  “Do you think it’s a sign?”

  She shrugged. “So far, all my dreams have been.”

  “All your dreams?”

  “Oh, right. I never told you about my dreams, did I?” She was actually blushing, and that intrigued Mason even more.

  He took her hand in his and slung the backpack over his shoulder. “Well, now is as good a time as ever for you to tell me.”

  “Remember the tribe my imaginary friend told me about? The warriors with animal souls?”

  Mason nodded, not knowing if the churn in his gut was from curiosity or anticipation.

  “Well, even before I met Lady, I dreamt about this very tribe,” Chloe explained as they hiked up the mountain. “But they don’t feel like dreams, you know? It feels like I’m living them.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, I was…I dream of being the daughter of the Chenesi in this ancient Native American community, and I do really cool things, like control water or make small whirlwinds out of nothing.”

  A cold shiver went up Mason’s spine.

  Images of Chloe dancing at the Caddo festival flooded his mind. Could it be possible? Could she really be the reincarnation of his old friend, Adsila? Trying his best to keep his expression neutral, he urged her to carry on.

  “But I was denied the right to be the next spiritual leader because I was a woman.”

  “Only male descendants of the Chenesi were entitled to guard the sacred fire and the waters of Mantaka,” Mason added, without thinking.

  “Yes!” Chloe said sounding impressed then her enthusiasm morphed into a deep frown. “That was exactly why.”

  Mason avoided her inquisitive gaze and kept walking.

  By the gods, he remembered the very day when his father sealed Adsila’s fate and announced to the whole tribe she was to become someone’s wife and fulfill her duties as bearer of the new generation, not the next Chenesi. He had been there. He had lived Chloe’s dream.

  “Ouch!” Chloe shrieked next to him.

  Mason turned startled, and got even more alarmed when he noticed the stone in her hand. Beams of light in several colors were radiating out of the stone and through the black material, just like the other times whenever she touched it―but this time she wasn’t.

  After a few seconds, it went dormant again.

  “What just happened?” Mason said, motioning Chloe to stop walking.

  “I don’t know,” she replied, and unwrapped the cover. “It suddenly got super-hot and then all the lights went on like Christmas Day.”

  “And now?”

  “It’s normal, cold.”

  Chloe cupped the relic with both hands and lifted it up to Mason. The black material hung downwards, protecting the stone from her direct touch.

  He stared at the gray symbols. No signs of life. Why was the stone triggered if Chloe hadn’t touched it?

  Mason frowned. He’d never been good with puzzles. Then an idea sprung to his mind. “Let’s go back.”

  Slowly, they retraced their trail.

  “Ouch!” Chloe exclaimed again. “It’s hot again.”

  “We must be near Mantaka.”

  Their expectant gazes searched the vast Ouachita Forest surrounding them. The green and yellow treetops were draped by a cloudless blue sky. The Caddo River down below looked impressive as it snaked through the narrow valley. But there were no waterfalls in sight.

  “This can’t be right, there’s nothing here. Just trees and more trees,” Mason said, truly confused.

  “Maybe there’s a hidden cascade or a creek nearby,” she suggested.

  They roamed around the area, but after half an hour of no success, Mason’s earlier enthusiasm had faded.

  “It must be here somewhere,” Chloe muttered to herself. She had the stone lifted above her head as if it were a cell phone without reception.

  Mason chuckled and shook his head. He had grown fond of her habit of talking to herself. It was quite cute, actually.

  “What?” Chloe asked, upon noticing his reaction.

  “You do that quite a bit.”

  “Do what?” A frown crossed her beautiful brow.

  “Talk to yourself,” Mason replied as he stepped closer and ran his fingers through her hair. “It’s quite fun to watch you debate with yourself.”

  “I don’t―” she started to retort, but stopped, probably recalling her solitary fit at the Indian Museum in Caddo. An adorable blush colored her cheeks.

  Mason kissed her lips tenderly, just to reassure her that he loved her the way she was, quirks and all. But she tasted too good and he found himself enveloping his arms around her waist and pulling her close.

  She let out a small moan as his mouth wove a trail down her alabaster neck and suckled on the tiny earlobe.

  “Mason?” Chloe whispered. “Shouldn’t we be looking for the waterfall?”

  “Uh-huh,” he replied, barely acknowledging her question.

  “Mason...” she groaned, but didn’t pull away.

  Damn it, she
was right. The people chasing them might still be around looking for them.

  “We need to get going, Mason,” she murmured as his mouth explored the soft skin on her neck.

  “All right,” he breathed, then pulled away with the genuine intention to leave her alone, but paused when he noticed her hungry gaze on him. It was so intense it would make a younger man blush.

  He cocked a brow then reached across, hooked his index finger on her jeans and hauled her tight against him. “Are you sure?”

  “Hmm,” she moaned, then as if waking up from a dream, she snaked herself out of his arms. “Yes, I am very sure,” she replied, already five feet away.

  Accepting his defeat to good reason, Mason took a few steps toward the opposite direction where Chloe was and resumed his search for the waterfalls of Mantaka.

  “So, tell me more about the dreams,” he asked in a raised voice so she could hear him from where she had gone. “What else can you remember?”

  No answer.

  He turned around and called again. “Chloe?”

  She was nowhere to be found. Damn Dai-mo!

  He called her name a few times but received only silence as reply. His heart kicked into fifth gear as he crouched low and listened to the sounds around him. He hadn’t heard anyone approaching, so what the hell had happened to her? He needed help, and fast.

  He didn’t even bother kneeling down in the traditional way―his noo-hi was out and searching for Chloe in no time.

  Using his enhanced animal senses, it didn’t take long for Mason to pick out scraping sounds coming from somewhere below. He directed his raven toward it. Its screech echoed in the valley, reflecting the tightness in Mason’s chest.

  With dead leaves as a natural camouflage, the narrow hole on the ground was barely noticeable.

  “Chloe?” Mason bellowed down the black void.

  “I’m down here!” she replied.

  “Are you alright?” he asked, already trying to find a way to get to her.

  “Yes, just a few scratches,” she yelled back.

  “Thank Dai-mo!”