Drawing Deep (2 page)

Unfortunately, residual responses to childhood teaching wasn’t easy to overcome, which was why only part of her attention was on Lance, Rome, and Gwen as they talked about the pit, the pirate Claude Morgan who supposedly not only built the house but was also the Felix’s ancestor, and the danger Gwen and Rome had faced when armed men had chased them down in the reserve, determined to find Morgan’s hidden treasure. The rest of it was on the pair of males at her back.

Which was how she heard what sounded like a muffled slap followed by words so low she knew she wasn’t supposed to hear.

“What’s wrong with you?”

Ria wanted to turn at Porter’s nearly inaudible question, but knew to do so might give her away. While she certainly didn’t possess a shifter’s heightened senses, she wasn’t without her own bag of tricks, both offensive and defensive. And those defensive skills really wanted to know what the hell was going on behind her, and what exactly the silent Santos was doing that would cause his younger brother to ask such a thing.

Trying to be casual, she turned her head slightly to look at her surroundings. The forest spread out from the trail on either side, dense and healthy and full of life. Birds chirped happily all around them while ground dwelling animals scurried over the forest floor. She glanced down to check her footing and noticed for the first time the faint ruts that lined the trial. Pausing, she toed the impressions, thinking her concentration really was shot to hell if she only now noticed them. “What are these from?”

“We had to use the quads to haul out the debris of the building that fell into the tunnel along with Rome and I.” Gwen explained, the whole group coming to a halt when Ria did.

Her truth seeking nature contracted in horror. “You got rid of it?”

Gwen flashed her an are-you-crazy look before flicking them to Lance. “Please. Considering that I’m the sister of the most anal man in the universe, I know better. We had to move it for safety reasons, but everything we pulled out is separated into piles behind Santos’s house.”

Ria glanced over her shoulder at the man in question. “Your house?”

His handsome face revealed absolutely nothing of what was going on in his head. “Yes.”

Not the most talkative of men, that one.

It was Porter who supplied the information after shooting his eldest brother an undecipherable look. “The two-story about a quarter mile northwest of the main house. You might have seen it. Boring brown.”

Santos slanted his eyes to his brother. “At least I don’t live in a barn.”

“Over the barn, you ass. Over the barn.” Porter flicked Santos in the ear in feigned outrage, making the older male grin.

The sight nearly made Ria stumble as they continued on. Grooves, too deep to be called dimples, appeared on either side of his mouth. Those deep brown eyes sparked with vibrant life and laughter, changing his silent countenance into something that made her belly flip-flop and her eyes want to glaze over.

Shocked at her response, she jerked her head forward, only to abruptly stop several feet later as the trees fell away.

The first thing Ria saw was the gaping hole in the roughly three acre clearing. It was hard to miss as it lay only yards from where the trail dumped the group out. Though it caught her eye, it wasn’t the only thing she saw. Gwen had told her that an old brick and wood building had stood over that pit, but that wasn’t the only thing missing. The clearing was empty. Not in the “duh” sense as a devoid of growth was the definition of a forest clearing, but in a bereft way. Something once filled that clearing, but was now gone.

Warm fingers closed over her upper arms, bare from the simple, beige scoop t-shirt she had paired that morning with the multi-pocketed khaki pants she habitually wore.

Heat flooded her system at the seemingly innocuous touch, shooting what felt like electrical currents from each point of contact to every nerve in her body, sending them into a frenzy of confusion. Then those fingers flexed on her arm, as if he too was the recipient of the same thing. In less than a second her heart leapt into high gear, her brain cells seemed to freeze and her body went strangely limp. It was an overload of her senses and she felt as if she were about to faint.

“You okay?”

Unable to comprehend her reaction to Santos’s touch, she stepped out of his reach and shook her head.

Looking a little perplexed, Santos let his arms fall at his sides. “You’re not all right?”

Ria stared into unfathomable brown eyes, so deep she wanted to drown in them. Wrapping her arms around her middle in an effort to quell the tremors that rocked her, she replied, “No. I’m fine. Just getting the lay of the land.” A quick pivot and she hurried over to where Lance and the others were already waiting at the top of the stairs.

“Lay of the land?” Santos asked, his long stride shortening to match hers.

Before she could answer, Lance spoke with smile that held brotherly pride. “Ria can pick up patterns that few people can. She can tell by the shape, texture, curve, or swirls of vegetation if and sometimes what is buried beneath. It’s because of her visual and tactile senses that we first knew where to look in Montana for that ship I was telling you about, Gwen.”

“That ties in neatly with your job,” Gwen nodded, looking impressed, while Rome, Porter and Santos shared a look that was akin to alarm.

With Lance’s statement, Ria felt a surge of power.
Too late. I already know what’s under your skin,
she wanted to shout out in mirth. Instead, she wisely drew on her big-girl pants, keeping the knowledge, and the enjoyment of making three dangerous predators uneasy, even if only for a moment, hidden deep inside and followed Gwen down into the pit.

The pit was, of course, empty. Four dirt walls. Dirt floor. Open to the clear sky above. Thrilling. And not what interested her. Taking it all in as they descended, Ria skirted around to stand next to the steps, running her fingers over the stonework that had fascinated her from the first photo. Wide and shallow, the stones were of varying sizes and methodically pieced together so that no dirt showed from underneath. They were warm now, thanks to the sun’s rays.

Utilizing those rays, Ria squatted to look at the flat surface of the steps from different angles, not missing the shallow indention from years of foot traffic. She examined the dirt wall behind it, her eyes narrowing as the soil seemed to take shape. Tilting her head, she turned a slow circle, her gray-blue eyes traveling over each earthen wall in silent analysis until she’d reached the steps once again.

“We already measured the space,” Rome was telling Lance when Ria’s co-worker retrieved his measuring tape. “While Gwen insists on calling it a pit, the rest of us still think it’s part of a tunnel system that caved in because of the earthquake.”

Partially listening to the words flowing around her, Ria moved to the closest wall, shifting until the side of her face was a bare inch from the dirt and she could gaze down the long length.

See the crazy woman cuddle up to the dirt wall,
she thought, knowing she probably looked drugged out as she let her eyes go a little blind. Conversation around her seemed to fade as images and patterns started to shimmer. She laid a hand on the wall, brushed lightly. Then brushed harder, removing dirt from a two-foot section.

Excitement caused her chest to clench, her hearing nothing but the rapid thudding of her heart. Turning from the wall, she spied Porter opening a bottle of water. Unthinking, she jumped to snatch it from his hand before a single drop hit his mouth. “Hey!”

Back at the wall, she tipped the bottle, trickling water over the section she had tackled with her hands.

“What the hell?” Rome blurted out.

“What is it, Ria?” Lance questioned, his voice practically in her ear as he and the others sidled closer to see what she was doing.

With a grin on her face, Ria turned her attention to several shocked eyes fixated on the cream-colored bricks that emerged from the wall of brown. Pure exhilaration temporarily trumped the unease that had kept her on edge for hours. “It’s not a tunnel or pit. It’s a ruin.”

After two months of increasing frustration and restlessness, Ria was heading back to Olivia’s Orchards, Lance once again at her side, to begin clearing off and investigating the underground ruin. She should be excited. Giddy at getting her hands dirty and uncovering, layer by miniscule layer, exactly what lay beneath the reserve. Instead she was filled with a convoluted mix of anticipation, wariness and dread.

Fully aware of what awaited her at the estate, she’d prepared herself for the week long stay against the super senses of the shifters that lived there. She even had a backup plan.

Too bad the back-up plan was currently winging its way to Germany.

“Damn airlines. I can’t believe their incompetence. It’s not fucking difficult to read the tags...” Her boss, Chris Gregor, had been complaining almost non-stop before they ever even left the airport in Panama City nearly an hour ago. He was also one of the reasons for her wariness.

Wishing she could turn off his voice with a click of a button, Ria leaned her head on the rear passenger window and looked outside. No street lights illuminated the dark night, but rather the glow of thousands of stars rained down through the cloudless sky to throw the lush, green grass and forest into an almost eerie relief of silvery hues.

“I also need a cooler and access to water. A ladder, shovels...”

Five minutes. If only Chris would shut his trap for five freaking minutes, she might be able to unclench her gut. Part of his annoyance was due to her, she knew, and couldn’t help feel the tiniest bit smug, even if she knew she would pay for it later. She’d managed to escape from becoming his seating partner on the flight from New Mexico to Florida, just as she’d evaded him on the trip to Oregon, both ways, last month. That time she’d bribed another member of the team with several bottles of Crown Royal. This time it was a simple case of not drawing the short straw.

In his mid-forties, Chris was smart, charming, decent-looking, athletic and rich. Unfortunately that led him to believe he was God’s-gift. He could be manipulative, toying with the edges of ethical behavior and, when he was annoyed at someone or didn’t get what he wanted, he took his irritation out in little nips and jabs that bordered on passive-aggressiveness.

Unfortunately for Ria, Chris had decided he wanted her. She might have been briefly flattered when she had started working for him, but after three years of dodging advances and enduring his pampered prince attitude, she firmly believed someone needed to squash him like a hideous cockroach.

Her lips twitched at the thought of her booted foot rising to come down in a determined stomp. Eyes still trained on the passing scenery, she heard Robby Martin frantically scribble on a notepad as Chris spit out the supplies they required until their lost baggage made its way back to Florida. Lance was on the phone, relaying that information to his sister, checking if the Orchards might possible have what they needed so they wouldn’t lose any time.

It was late Thursday night, their arrival made even later due to Chris’s airport tantrum and his insistence on driving the Lincoln Navigator he’d rented. Then he’d gotten them lost. Three times. Ria was more than ready to face a family of predatory shifters over listening to Chris for another second. She doubted she’d see much of the curious cats anyway, busy as they were running their own lives, and she believed her secret would remain safe with only a minimum of fuss. What really had her worried, though, was
him
.

“Yeah, they have a metal detector.” Lance’s words made Ria jerk her attention to her left. In the dim light she saw him roll his eyes as their gazes connected, understanding at once. Only two of their nine pieces of luggage was missing, and there wasn’t a metal detector among them. One of Chris’s, which probably consisted of even more non-essential clothes for the short trip, and Ria’s secondary piece; a large, heavy-plastic, cooler-like container that housed numerous vials, baggies, brushes, picks, and so on.

Unbeknownst to anyone but Ria, what lay hidden underneath the trademark tools of an archeologist was the most important thing in Ria’s life. Several small items that were always packed carefully away in the concealed confines of the temperature controlled false bottom. It’s loss, even for a few days, was the cause of her dread. Though she probably wouldn’t need them, considering the influx she’d received two days ago, she’d still rather be safe than sorry.

The vehicle began to slow even as Lance told his sister, “We’re just pulling up.”

Ria turned her eyes forward as the gorgeous, three-story house filled the windshield. Situated several hundred feet from the bay, the house was large and inviting, with dark green trim that set off the tan brick and cleverly designed rounded corners to withstand the seasonal hurricane winds that blasted in from the ocean. The second floor, Ria knew, was were the guests stayed, and held a divided wrap-around balcony which provided those guests with privacy. The third floor also held a wrap-around balcony, though this one was open and jutted out a bit over the one on the second floor. Melinda, Andreas, Rome and now Gwen lived on the third floor.

From her tour two months ago, Ria knew the house also boasted an indoor-outdoor pool, library and media/rec room for their guests’ entertainment. The bed-and-breakfast served both breakfast and dinner in the dining room and Ria knew the Felix’s cook/head housekeeper, Annie, was an artist in the kitchen. Though lunch was only provided upon request, there was no shortage of snacks available to tide one over until the evening meal.

“Huh. It’s bigger than I thought.” Chris said as he pulled into a parking slot. His attention moved to the front door when it opened to reveal Gwen and Melinda, with Rome and Andreas at their backs.

Ria’s heart jumped at the sight. Not so much at who appeared, but at who might yet appear.

So many emotions tangled in her gut, giving her a bad case of butterflies, and as she had learned long ago how to contain her emotions, it was an unnerving sensation. All because of one man she barely knew. A man whose handsomely rugged face had popped into her thoughts, and when she’d kicked those thoughts aside, had begun to infiltrate her dreams. Arousing dreams that woke her with an aching need the likes of which she’d never known. And then came the dreams of such loss and confusion she would find tears still wet on her checks when she opened her eyes. Part of her wanted to see the eldest Felix son straight off so she could confirm he was nothing special, that the reality was far inferior to the fantasy.