The Raven's Trail (Book 1)

by Liz D. Marx

  “I only had five days to put my whole life in boxes,” Chloe joked lightly, pretending to be appalled. “Next time, you’ll come with me and help me pack.”

  “I hope there won’t be a next time,” he replied, kissing her again.

  “Mason?”

  “Hmm?” His lips lazily wove a trail down her neck.

  “We have an audience,” Chloe whispered, already feeling her cheeks burn.

  “Oh, please, don’t mind me,” Foster said from the top of the stairs with the most mischievous grin Chloe had ever seen. “I love public displays of affection.”

  “Shut up, Foster,” Mason said lightly as he picked up one of Chloe’s suitcases from the sidewalk.

  Foster came down and lifted the other one. “Whoa, I thought you packed light.”

  “Wait until you see the other ten that are arriving next week,” Chloe jested, giving her new friend a peck on the cheek. “How are you, Foster?”

  “Sick and tired of hearing your boyfriend moan about how much he misses you. You owe me big time, girl.” Foster returned her kiss on the cheek then led the way into the house.

  Chloe’s jaw dropped as soon as she stepped inside. The long hallway had a tall ceiling and cream walls that amplified the brightness offered by the bay windows. Dark wooden boards covered the floors and the staircase that ascended to the upper levels.

  An ample sitting room stood to the left and Chloe could see glimpses of the modern kitchen at the end of the corridor. The whole ambiance was clean and classic.

  No pictures or paintings adorned the walls and, save for the stunning copper chandelier and large burgundy vase, there were no ornaments adorning the house. The décor was very minimalist, and the basic colors had been well matched. It was the perfect blank canvas.

  Chloe’s lips curled up in a smile with the thought of all of the fun she was going to have.

  “Should I be worried?” Mason whispered in her ear. His right arm circled around her waist, his taut chest against her back.

  “About what?”

  “You look like a kid in a candy store.”

  She chuckled in reply but didn’t give anything away.

  Oh, how much fun she would have indeed.

  “To be honest, I don’t care if you’re gonna paint my walls pink,” Mason added, then pressed his lips on her neck and nibbled on her earlobe. “All I ever wanted, I have it already, right here, in my arms.”

  Chloe melted into those very arms. “Is your bedroom far?”

  “Our bedroom is just a flight of steps away,” he replied softly in her ear. “Have I told you I love you?”

  “Nope. Not today,” she replied with a pretend pout.

  Mason turned her around and cupped her neck, making her meet his suddenly serious gaze. “I do, Chloe. I’ve never felt this way before.”

  Wow. Chloe’s heart skipped a beat, and hoped the butterflies in her stomach would never decide to settle down.

  “Guys, I think you should see this.” Foster’s voice came from the second floor.

  Mason lifted a brow, then kissed her softly. “We better go take a look at whatever it is.”

  Chloe followed him up the stairs into a room filled with monitors, computers and other high-tech gadgets. Foster was sitting in front of a massive screen which was tuned in to a cable TV channel specializing in history and science.

  “The invaluable relics will be auctioned this Friday at Sotheby’s New York,” the melodic voiceover stated while the camera panned over a two-foot-tall totem embellished with large pieces of jade and topaz. “This is the largest collection of pre-Columbian artifacts being auctioned in one single campaign.” Then the scene shifted to a display of several other items.

  “I’d love to have one of those,” Chloe joked, salivating at the objects on the screen―a gorgeous emerald ring, a beautiful necklace with precious stones and a pair of ruby earrings to die for.

  Then she saw it.

  It was a very quick close up, but Chloe would recognize the triangular stone with intricate carvings anywhere in the world.

  “Oh, dear gods! They’re auctioning the other half of the Binding Stone!”

  “Yep, and it’s happening tomorrow night,” Foster said, turning around to meet her shocked face.

  “Who’s the owner of the collection?” Mason asked, his eyes intent on the news piece.

  “An old lady with a thing for Native American history,” Foster replied.

  “Why is she selling it?” Chloe asked. She couldn’t imagine herself letting go of any of those treasures.

  “Apparently she died a couple of weeks ago and left no direct descendants,” Foster replied.

  At that moment, the TV showed another close up of the stone and Chloe frowned.

  “What it is, my love?” Mason asked.

  “It looks like my stone, but there’s something wrong.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Chloe shrugged, uncertain of what to say. There was something wrong, of that she was certain, she just couldn’t put her finger on it.

  “Well, we’ll figure it out as we go,” Mason said.

  “Sonofabitch!” Foster cried out, startling both Chloe and Mason. “Look who’s representing the dead lady at the auction.”

  Once again, Chloe focused her gaze on the screen in front of her and instantly understood Foster’s outrage. Crawford’s assistant, the redhead, was leaving the auction house and stepping into a silver Jaguar XF. The caption at the bottom of the scene displayed the words “Pamela Swan, legal representative at the upcoming auction, which is said to attract many high-flying bidders.”

  “Foster,” Mason growled. “See what you can find out about this auction tomorrow. I’m calling Running Bison. I have a feeling we’ll need every help we can find to get to that stone before Pamela disappears again.”

  “Don’t you worry,” Foster growled back. “I’ve made it my life mission to find that redhead again and make her pay for the mayhem she caused at the Caddo Village.”

  Chloe’s brows went up in surprise. Wow, she didn’t know Forster held such powerful feelings toward William’s assistant.

  She then realized that Mason was right. They needed to get their hands on that second half of the stone before it was too late. And that meant their romantic break was over before it had even started. So much for having quiet time off to enjoy her new life with her man.

  Just as she was about to accept the fact that her need to be with him wasn’t going to take priority, Mason’s hand grasped hers and pulled Chloe toward his towering body.

  His dark gaze stripped her naked, sending delicious shivers up her spine, before his lips brushed against hers. “The stones can wait a little longer.”

  Chapter Thirty

  Johnny sat on the cold boulder and let his lids rest for a moment. The canyon was strangely quiet, with only the constant sound of the shallow creek echoing around the stone walls. A wet, cold nose touched his arm, making him jump awake. Getting startled was an innate response because his brain had already registered who his company was.

  “Hey, Dynamo, where have you been?” Johnny reached out and ran his hand along the soft coat of the mountain lion.

  The large cat lowered his head, welcoming the caress, then rested his hind and front legs on the cold stone next to Johnny.

  Ever since he was a little boy, Johnny had been different. He didn’t remember much about his early childhood—his memories were hazy to say the least—but there was one thing he’d always been able to count on―his ability to talk to animals.

  He had no idea how it happened or why he was special that way, but he didn’t want to question it either. His unique talent had enabled him to survive the cold nights in the forest and the harshness of the days in the wild. After growing older, he found out that he could not only talk to the animals, but also manipulate their will. The mountain lion resting next to him was only one of them.

  When the Caddo folks found him and took him in, he thought his days in the
wild were over, but he had been wrong. He kind of liked the Caddoans, though, especially Running Bison and Matilda―they had fed him, clothed him and taught him how to read and write after all―but deep inside, Johnny knew he didn’t belong with them. The truth was he felt at home in the wild. He was like the Lone Ranger but instead of a horse he had Dynamo. Together they roamed the national park, looking for adventures and cool places to explore.

  It was during one of those explorations that Johnny bumped into Mason and Chloe. Well...bumped into wasn’t quite what happened, and it didn’t take place at the Village either, like Mathilda thought. No, Johnny had first laid his eyes on them the afternoon before they arrived at the compound. They had been by the lake, watching blue jays in a tree―at least, that’s what it had looked like from a distance.

  Johnny had felt Mason’s spiritual call in his bones, just before Dynamo darted away toward the lake. At first, Johnny didn’t recognize what it was―he had never heard, or better yet, felt anything like that before. Feeling dizzy with confusion, he followed Dynamo through the forest and almost died of shock when he saw Mason greeting the blue jays with his mind.

  Holy crap!

  After that, Johnny got hooked. He was just too intrigued, too fascinated by that stranger who seemed to also talk to the animals. So he and Dynamo stayed put, hidden in the shadows, watching the strange couple until the sun came up.

  By the way, he hadn’t meant to scare Miss Doyle that night―it was just bad luck that she chose to go pee right next to where they were hiding. But in the end, Miss Doyle’s bad sense for the wilderness had been his blessing. If it weren’t for her, he wouldn’t have seen Mason’s true powers firsthand. Man, how shocked had he been when Mason took over Dynamo’s mind in record time?

  At first, Johnny got intrigued, then he got pissed off―who the hell was that guy? But then a strange sense of hope engulfed Johnny’s heart.

  Could it be that there was someone else like him in the world? Could it be that he didn’t have to be alone?

  The yearning for a life without loneliness wrapped his soul like Band-Aid, but the warmth in his chest was trampled on by the nagging fear in his mind―Mason was powerful; much more powerful than Johnny.

  He had felt Mason’s energy seek Dynamo’s mind, travelling in the air along with a darkness Johnny had seen before―a long time ago, when he had been just a baby.

  At once, confusing images of his mother crying and begging for her life flooded his mind, making Johnny cringe in agony.

  He hated those memories; he wanted them gone.

  Enough with this shit.

  Standing up, he strolled down the narrow creek and went inside one of the hidden chambers of the canyon; only Dynamo’s light footsteps plodded behind. No one knew about this place―it was his sanctuary, his sacred hideaway.

  He reached the hidden alcove and crouched down by a pile of stones. He then lifted the piece of moss he had placed as a makeshift cover and retrieved the box from the secret hole.

  Its wooden lid was worn-out and the metal hinges had long given way to rust, but the object inside had remained untouched by the winds of time. A small grin lifted his cheeks as he felt the power of the stone in his gut. It was triangular in shape, with intricate drawings adorning its rough surface. Another image of his mom popped into his head. This time she was smiling at him, dangling the shining stone like a toy over his cradle. It was beautiful—she had been beautiful. Johnny had no idea how he could recall these things but not others.

  He still didn’t know how he ended up fending for himself in the mountains, or what had happened to his parents. But he would find out, and the stone would help him. Because if his stone was anything like the one Miss Doyle had, then he would also be creating a tornado out of thin air soon.

  Holy crap, he had been so shocked to see the stone in her hands that at first, he thought she had stolen his! He had no idea his stone had a twin. Maybe he had a twin as well, who knew?

  “Stay close, my friend,” he told Dynamo, who promptly settled himself by his side, protectively.

  Then Johnny took a deep breath and used the stone’s sharp edge to slit a fissure in the palm of his hand. Warm blood seeped along his skin but instead of down, the red liquid snaked upward, filling the crevasses of the stone, lighting up the drawings like fireworks on Fourth of July.

  His loyal mountain lion whined in protest.

  But Johnny’s mind was too far gone, deep into the vortex of magic, to register the warning.

  THE BINDING STONE (The Raven’s Trail - Book 2)

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  While inspired by historical facts, all characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Mores, folklore, expressions and idioms described were inspired by facts in the public domain but not restricted by them. The author crafted locations, plot, story segments and characters with utter respect to all referred cultures and societies. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

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  Copyright © 2016 by Liz D Marx

  Cover art by Liz Drysdale

  Cover Images: Pexels.com

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