Blood Diamond (20 page)

“Yes, there are several fire witches on board. Why?” He paused, sighed, and after a moment of listening, he nestled the phone against his ear and pressed his fingers to my throat, his gaze fixed on his watch. “Twenty beats in fifteen seconds. Okay, I’ll do that. I’ll call you back.” He hung up, setting his cell on the coffee table.

“There’s something wrong with that stone,” I gasped out. When my brother reached for it, I flinched.

“Don’t touch it,” Evelyn snapped. Grabbing a tissue, she tossed it over the gem. “It did something to him when you held it up.”

“Stay with him,” my brother ordered, jumping off the couch and heading to the door. He yanked it open and said, “Tell Zachary I need him in here yesterday. I don’t care what he’s doing—it’s important.”

Whether covering the stone helped or the dead had otherwise lost their hold on me, they fell silent, allowing me to relax against Evelyn. I panted in my effort to catch my breath. She wrapped her arms around me.

I shivered in reaction to the stone and the dead imprinted within it. Without them crying out, one name filtered through all of the rest. My doubts surged, but Evelyn murmured them away, running her hands through my hair.

She was a Fenerec. She wouldn’t abandon me. She had promised.

However, the memory of Suzanne’s screams echoed in my head. I knew her true name at last, and the knowledge crushed me.

Suzanne Annemarie Greene hadn’t taken my name with her to her grave.

Chapter Ten

It took almost an hour for me to shake off the stone’s influence. Despite it being covered and out of reach, I was aware of it. The dead hissed at me, but their voices were distant. Evelyn hovered nearby, her attention focused on the tissue, as though she expected the gem beneath it to attack us.

The four fire witches my brother had summoned stared at me as though I’d grown a second head.

My brother rubbed his temples, drawing my attention back to him. “Are you certain you’ve never seen that stone before?”

After five times of hearing the same question, I wanted to reach over and shake sense into him, but I’d have to get closer to the gem to do so, which saved him from a brotherly beating. “I’ve never seen it before,” I confirmed, careful to keep my tone even so I wouldn’t betray my irritation.

Elliot sighed, looking over at the witches. “And you’re absolutely positive that this rock has an aura and this same aura is also on my brother?”

“Yes, sir,” they chorused. The three women stared at each other.

I knew the senior witch, Paul, by reputation; at twenty-six, he was a rising star of the Inquisition. With blond hair and blue eyes, he had the looks of an angel to go with his devilish temper. He pointed at the stone. “I don’t know what that is, but it’s making my skin crawl. Mr. Jackson, you’re a sensor, aren’t you?”

I nodded.

“You’re an earth-element sensor. I think it’s obvious why he’s reacting to it,” Paul said, shrugging.

“That woman had the stone. Could she have done something to him using it?” Wiggling her way across my lap, Evelyn perched on the edge of the couch, remaining between the jewel and me. I rubbed her back, and she leaned into my touch.

“It’s possible,” Paul conceded. “How likely? That I can’t tell you. That rock looks like bad news to me, sir.”

My brother clacked his teeth. “His affinity is with stones, too—precious gems, to be specific.”

With a shake of his head, Paul took a few steps back from the coffee table. “Since it’s enough to cause me discomfort, I’m not at all surprised by his reaction. What do you want us to do with it? I don’t think touching it is wise.”

“I was able to handle it with no problems,” my brother replied, scowling at the piece of tissue. He shifted the laptop aside, and I recoiled against the arm of the couch. While I could see there was something dark-colored beneath the thin white material, the spirits continued to be held at bay. Their whispers were anxious and demanding, but I withstood them.

I didn’t want to know what would happen if I caught a glimpse of the blood-red facets again.

“With all due respect, sir, you’re a null. We aren’t. There’s something very wrong about that stone.” Shuddering, Paul rubbed his arms.

“That’s not very helpful, I hope you know. Could you perhaps describe what feels wrong with it?” My brother’s tone was sharp with annoyance and frustration.

“Rot,” I blurted, the word surprising me. The ghosts’ discontent vanished in a surge of triumph. I heard their whispers again, and they lamented their deaths.

The word belonged to them, and they had used my voice to speak. Their chilling presence closed in on me.

“Rot?” Elliot faced me, his eyes narrowing. His expression twisted from confusion to worry. “What do you mean by that?”

After visiting Suzanne’s grave so many times, I was disgusted I hadn’t recognized the feeling sooner. “It feels like a cemetery.”

One of the witches snapped her fingers, a smug smile appearing before she controlled her expression. “That’s exactly it. It has the aura of a morgue or cemetery.”

“More like a crematorium,” Paul muttered.

Elliot frowned. “Do all of you feel this way?”

I nodded, as did the other witches.

“Well, I already know what’ll happen to my brother if he gets too close to it. Witches, out of the room—I’ll put this in a box and send it to a lab for testing. There’s no point in making you all suffer for a pointless experiment,” my twin said, pointing towards the hallway door.

A knock startled all of us, causing nervous titters. Evelyn scowled, rose, and answered the door. Dr. Wilson stepped in, her glare settling on me. “At this rate, I’m just going to remain on board. You don’t look dead, Mr. Jackson.”

I couldn’t tell if she was pleased by my living state or not. “My apologies, Dr. Wilson.”

“What happened?” The woman pointed at the four other witches. “You, you, you, and you. Your pupils are dilated, and your color is off. You’re a match for Mr. Jackson.”

“We think this stone has something to do with it.” When my brother reached for the tissue, I lurched over the arm of the couch and retreated towards the stateroom’s balcony. My back pressed against the floor to ceiling glass door. The other witches joined me, with Paul standing beside me.

“They’re insane,” he whispered to me.

“No kidding.”

“What type of stone is it?” Dr. Wilson asked.

Without knocking, Zachary opened the door, poking his head into the room. “You’re a noisy lot. For the record, I’m calling it a death rock, as I’ve heard it about scared the boss to death. Sorry I couldn’t get away sooner; there was a tidal wave alert.”

“A
what
?” my brother demanded.

“A tidal wave alert. It’s a nasty warning when there are underwater earthquakes. The Mid-Atlantic Ridge had a nasty shake about an hour ago, and it’s been rumbling ever since. The last aftershock was about ten minutes ago. Fortunately for us, we were already close to the edge of the shelf, so we’ve changed course for deeper water, just as a precaution.” Zachary stepped inside and closed the door behind him. “Are you okay, Boss?”

“I won’t be if he touches that stone again,” I replied in a strained voice.

“Is that why you’re hiding over there? What’s going on?” Dr. Wilson sighed. “It’s more superstitious nonsense, isn’t it?” Before my brother could stop her, the old woman snatched up the tissue, depositing the stone in her palm. The red gem reflected the room’s light, bathing the coffee table in a crimson glow. “This stone seems to—”

The distance didn’t save me from the wails of the dead. They all shared one thing, and they blinded me to everything else. They had died in a white-painted room full of laboratory equipment, and their pain seared through me. Trapped within the confines of the gemstone, they endured an eternity of anguish as they once again experienced their lives bleeding away.

I was faintly aware of Paul collapsing to the floor beside me.

My brother slapped the stone out of Dr. Wilson’s hand, severing my connection with the dead. The stone clattered as it hit the table, bouncing onto the carpet. With a life of its own, it rolled until it came to rest at my feet. One by one the ghosts quieted, leaving behind the silence of the grave. The dead waited, and their hope was a painful weight compressing my chest. Somewhere far away, I heard the buzz of angry voices.

I ignored them all.

~Dante,~
the ghosts begged.

In my name, I heard their plea for help, for freedom, and for release into true death. I was a puppet on strings, obeying the whims of the dead. At their command, I knelt and picked up the stone in my left hand, nestling it in my palm.

The warmth of freshly spilled blood spread through me.

“Are you insane?” my brother shrieked.

“Justice,” the ghosts demanded in my voice. Their satisfaction burned through me. They departed, stealing everything from me as they went.

I crumpled to the floor.

~~*~~

I was alone when I woke. The other half of the bed looked untouched. The light was on in the main room, and hissing at the protest of my sore knee, I got out of bed. A bathrobe waited, draped over the back of a chair near the bed. I limped to the sitting room, puzzled. No one was in the suite, and all was quiet. Of Evelyn, there was no sign, which worried me enough that I stalked through the stateroom in search of evidence of where my Fenerec had gone. My anxiety increased with each passing moment as I returned to the bedroom, scratching my head. I pinched myself to make certain I wasn’t still asleep. It hurt as I expected.

Leaning against the doorframe, I tried to piece together what had happened. With surprising clarity, I remembered joining the four Inquisition witches on the floor in a faint. Passing out wasn’t something I did often, but under normal circumstances, I didn’t have any recollection of it happening. Time usually did a funny lurch without my awareness of having fainted at all. “Huh,” I muttered, shaking my head and making my way to the bathroom.

I found Evelyn sound asleep in the claw-footed tub, her head pillowed on her arms, her breath making a soft whistling when she exhaled. Her hair was a tangled mess, falling over her face. Kneeling beside her, I dipped my fingers into the water to find it chilly. With a grimace, I plunged my hand in, pulling the stopper.

I couldn’t help myself; I smiled at her, carefully brushing away the locks of hair plastered to her cheeks. Trailing my fingers along the gentle line of her jaw, I worked my way down so I could flick her ear. I was rewarded with a sleepy murmur. Tickling the side of her neck earned me a louder complaint. I kissed her cheek, and unable to resist the lure, I nibbled my way to her throat. “Evelyn, why are you sleeping in the tub?” I whispered in her ear, hoping my voice wouldn’t startle her.

It did. Her shriek ended in a gurgle as she flailed, slipped, and submerged in the draining tub, splashing me as she floundered in her efforts to sit up. Water dripped down her face. With a cough, she shook her head.

I covered my mouth so I wouldn’t laugh. When I could contain my mirth, I asked, “Are you okay?”

For a long moment, she stared at me with a blank expression on her face. Her hand trembled when she lifted it to touch my cheek. I captured her hand with mine, turning my face to kiss her fingers. “Let’s get you to bed, Sleepy,” I murmured, reaching over to grab one of the room’s fluffy white towels. “You’re going to freeze to death in there.”

“Jackson?”

“I assure you that I would never allow my brother anywhere near my lady in nothing but a bathrobe,” I replied. “I would be more than a little upset with him. Why were you sleeping in the tub?”

Evelyn sniffled, which was all of the warning I needed to recognize there was a great deal of trouble in my immediate future. I froze, horrified at the thought of the Fenerec crying over anything. The thought of strong, rip-a-woman-to-pieces Evelyn reduced to tears sent a surge of panic through me.

There was only one question I could ask, and I knew it was the worst thing I could say. Her tears were likely my fault. Bracing myself for the inevitable, I asked, “What’s wrong?”

Her red-rimmed eyes stared into mine. “You wouldn’t wake up.”

I winced, wondering how long I had been unconscious thanks to the ghosts I wasn’t quite ready to tell her about. “I’m awake now,” I replied, running my fingers through her hair. “I’m sorry I worried you.”

Evelyn sniffled, wiped her eyes, and nodded. “The other witches haven’t woken up either. Your brother was so mad, Jackson. I thought he was going to kill Dr. Wilson for a minute there. He sent her back to shore and called in a witch from the west coast.”

“He’s going to kill me,” I stated, wondering how he’d choose to finish me off for making him worry again. “It wasn’t my fault this time, I swear. I didn’t know—”

Pressing her fingers to my lips, she shook her head. “It may not have been your fault, but I already called dibs on you. What were you thinking, picking it up? I’m so mad at you,” she blurted. Balling her hand into a fist, she thumped my shoulder hard enough that I yelped.

“That’s going to bruise,” I warned, draping the towel over her head so I could dry her hair. “There’s a very steep fine if you cause bruises.”

“Oh?” she watched me, her eyes half-lidded. I smiled, rubbing her briskly with the towel, not saying a word as I ran my hands over her. “Does it hurt?”

“Terribly,” I lied, grinning at her. While my knee was going to hate me, I ignored my apprehension at the pain I was about to cause myself. Slipping one arm under her knees and the other behind her back, I lifted her out of the tub. My spine popped and creaked in protest.

She didn’t weigh nearly as much as I thought she should, and I was smart enough not to tell her that. “When was the last time you ate?”

With my luck, she’d take my question the wrong way, but there was something dangerous about being the only living thing in the room with a hungry Fenerec. The worry of her hunger distracted me from the throbbing in my knee as I carried her to bed. With a playful grin, I dumped her on my side. She squeaked, bouncing as she landed. “Well?”

“I don’t remember,” she admitted sheepishly, yawning.