Dark Deceiver (8 page)

“Kade. You don't have my phone number.” She turned away, then back, with a pen in her hand. “Give me the paper Harrison gave you and I'll write it down.”

Even here, in the muted glow from the bulbs lighting the parking garage, she shone like a brilliant fiery gem. As he watched her write the number, he felt her beauty like an ache in his chest. How was it possible he would never see her again?

She looked up, meeting his gaze with her soft eyes, and handed the sheet back to him. “I'm glad you're not Esri.”

“Did you really think I was?”

“No, not really.” A soft smile lifted her lips. “But I wasn't sure. I've never dealt with magic before.”

“I hope you never have to…. You shouldn't be involved in this, Autumn. It's too dangerous.”

“I know.” Her brows pulled together. “But I want to be involved.”

“Why?”

She gave him a self-deprecating look even as her eyes began to sparkle. “Because it's exciting and important. And fascinating.”

He understood, he realized. This was
her
place, as the royal court was his. And like him, she struggled against the accident of birth that would keep her from being part of it. Perhaps he could help her. There was one small gift he could give her that wouldn't compromise his mission or her own safety, but would give her a purpose. For now.

“You keep talking about stones,” he mused. “Every time you do, I see the same picture in my head. I believe it's from one of my dreams.”

Autumn's gaze sharpened. “Tell me.”

“I can't remember the details, only that there are six rocks.”

“Six?”
Her voice rose with excitement.

“Yes. Pale green, about the size of a nickel, but of varying shapes.” He'd never actually seen the six lesser stones, and he certainly hadn't dreamed about them, but he'd heard them described often enough to know what she sought.

“Pale green,” she breathed. Her face lit up in a smile of such brightness it took his breath away and made him doubt his decision to not see her again. “Kade, this is wonderful! Now I know what I'm looking for.”

“It was just a dream, Autumn. It might be nothing.”

But her laughter filled him with pleasure. “The dream of a Sitheen is nothing to take lightly. You saw them, Kade. I'm sure of it. I'll start researching as soon as I get home.”

Sharp intelligence gleamed in her eyes as the excitement visibly bubbled within her, pleasing him immensely. What he wouldn't give to pull her into his arms and taste the happiness on her lips.

“You're an amazing woman, Autumn McGinn. If anyone can find those stones, you will.” That thought, that certainty, gave him pause. Perhaps he shouldn't have told her the truth about the stones. What if she really did trace them quickly? Surely even Autumn couldn't locate six forgotten stones in this large world in less than two weeks. And by then, Ustanis would have followed their scent and tracked them down himself.

“Thank you.” Her gaze turned soft and shy as she smiled at him.

Every intent flew out of his head as the need to taste her became too great to fight. He leaned low into her window to capture her lips one last time and was blind-sided by the fire that leaped between them. Need rolled through him as her sweet taste caressed his tongue. He drank of her, reveled in the sweetness for a few stolen moments before forcing himself to pull away.

“Goodbye, Autumn.”

“'Bye, Kade.”

As he watched her drive away, he knew he should be feeling relief that she was out of danger. And gratitude that she'd led him to the Sitheen. But all he could think about was that he'd just said goodbye to the woman he'd been waiting for all his life.

A
utumn trudged along the graveled path on the National Mall beneath a bright sun and a sky as blue as Kade Smith's eyes. A week ago, she'd gone to bed with stars in her eyes, her heart racing with excitement over a brand-new crush, thinking that maybe her luck with men had finally turned. But Kade had never called.

She knew it was time to forget him, to accept that he'd been every bit as out of her league as she'd feared, despite the way he'd looked at her, the way he'd kissed her. But the ache in her chest refused to go away. And she just couldn't seem to quit coming out here every lunch hour to scan the pathways and sidewalks that Harrison had assigned him to patrol, hoping for a glimpse of the tall, dark and devastatingly handsome man who consumed her thoughts.

Clearly, he'd forgotten about her easily enough. Five days ago, she'd taken a chance and left a short, friendly message on his answering machine, but he'd never called her back. Obviously, the man wasn't interested. If only she could say the same. Somehow she'd fallen prey to a ridiculous case of love-at-almost-first-sight. And it
was
ridiculous. She barely knew the man. But she couldn't deny he'd turned her world upside down. She thought about him every minute, wondering where he was, wondering if he was okay. Wondering why she'd been so wrong in thinking they'd discovered some kind of connection.

She buttoned her coat against the chilly wind, then shoved her hands in her pockets. At least meeting him hadn't been a total loss. His dream about the six green stones was starting to pay off. Once she knew what she was looking for, she'd had little trouble picking up the trail. The stones
had
been part of the same estate as the draggon stone, but not part of the jewelry, as she'd expected. She'd found a picture of them set in the rim of an antique pewter cup, a cup no one seemed to have wanted. She'd tracked the cup to a local antique store where the dealer told her it had sat on his shelves for years until one of his neighbors had expressed an interest in the stones for his craft business, and he'd sold it to the man for next to nothing. She had a call into the neighbor, Jerry Robertson, now. It was too soon to call her search a success, but her hopes were flying high.

It was about time, too. The death rate in D.C. was going through the roof and the vast majority of them were too odd not to be Esri-related. In the past four days alone, there had been more than thirty cases of apparent suicide—people walking in front of moving cars, jumping off bridges or diving out the windows of office buildings. Just yesterday, four tourists from Minnesota had drowned in the Reflecting Pool in front of the Washington Monument. The pool was three feet deep! They had to have been enchanted.

Every time she heard of another murder, her stomach tightened with sharp, fresh guilt. Maybe if she hadn't let that kid go, he could have told them something that might have helped, that might have stopped the murders. Her only chance of helping to stop the Esri was to find those stones. With the help of Kade's dream, she fully intended to succeed.

Even if her relationship with Kade himself seemed destined to go down as just another failure.

 

Twenty-four hours later, Autumn's mood was soaring as she drove through the busy streets of D.C. Kade still hadn't called, but she could almost forgive him for his lack of interest in her because of what he
had
given her. He'd made her believe in herself. He'd told her that, if anyone could find the Esri stones, she could.

And maybe, just maybe, she had.

Nervous excitement had her tapping the steering wheel as she waited for the stoplight to turn green. Jerry Robertson had returned her call last night and confirmed he'd bought the cup and used the stones from it in his creations. Junk art, he called them.

She was on her way to his house now.

Autumn rolled her gaze to the roof and back even as the butterflies beat at the insides of her stomach. She'd all but promised the man a showing of his collection at the Smithsonian if he let her come see his work. Her boss was going to kill her.

Despite the hope firing her excitement, she knew finding the Esri stones was a long shot. Jerry Robertson was a crafter who sold his work at shows and fairs around the city. Crafters rarely kept records of their customers. Those stones could be long gone by now with no way to track them.

She'd know soon enough.

The street came into view and she started searching for the row house. Autumn spied the address she was looking for and parked. The house, like many in this neighborhood, was ill kempt. Weeds had long overtaken whatever grass had once blanketed the yard and the door badly needed paint. Overgrown holly bushes lined the front of the house, half-covering the windows.

As Autumn approached, the front door opened to reveal a man who was the antithesis of the yard. He looked like a lawyer in his suit and tie, his thinning hair brushed carefully to one side. No, she realized. He looked like a man on his way to an interview. She groaned. Of course he was dressed for an interview—an interview with a Smithsonian official.
Her.

“Mr. Robertson? I'm Autumn McGinn with the Smithsonian.” At least she was wearing nice slacks and a blazer.

“How do you do, Ms. McGinn? Please, come in, won't you?” He led her into a small, neat living room lined with shelves overflowing with sculptures. There must be more than a hundred of them! Junk art, he called them, and the description couldn't be more accurate. The works all stood about six inches tall and included everything from a spray of bottle-cap daisies to the Empire State Building made from gum wrappers and paperclips. Most of the sculptures were made from a hodge-podge of cast-off components—a lightbulb base, an old toothbrush, the glass from a pair of spectacles. Strange and yet fascinating in an odd sort of way.

Her stomach churned. Even if the Esri stones were here, how was she ever going to find them in this mess? There were too many!

She forced herself to calm down, to take a deep breath. There was only one way to do this, she decided.

“I love them, Mr. Robertson,” she enthused, hoping he mistook the edge of panic for excitement. “How many would you allow me to take for the exhibit?”

The man's eyes lit with excitement. “You're going to accept them?”

Autumn smiled, swallowing her guilt. “Yes, of course. I'd like to take twenty, if that's okay, but it may take me a little while to decide which ones.”

“Of course, of course. The only one I can't part with is this,” he said, and pulled a floppy-eared dog sculpture from the top shelf.

The sculpture was different from the rest. Instead of junk, the dog was made from pieces of silver, or silver plate, and semiprecious stones.
And his stone ear was pale green.

Her heart skipped a beat. “May I see it, please?”

The man hesitated only a moment before handing it to her. At once she saw the faint etching of a seven-pointed star on the surface of the stone. Her heart began to pound. She'd found one of the Esri stones! Without screwing up one single thing.

Yet.

Perspiration broke out on the back of her neck beneath her thick braid. She had to get this sculpture without making him suspicious.

“I can see why you wouldn't want to give it up, Mr. Robertson. It's beautiful.”

“Well, that's not exactly why I can't let you have it. It's for my latest grandchild. I've made special sculptures for each of the other ten. Number eleven is on the way and it's going to be her baby gift when she's born.”

Eleven special sculptures. Six of which she'd bet money, possessed pale green stones. The trick was getting her hands on them. She should probably tell Jack and let the police confiscate them, but the thought made her ill. The man was so excited about this exhibition and so proud of these sculptures, she couldn't do that to him if she could find another way. Besides, she wanted to do this on her own. She had to prove to Larsen and the others that she was good for more than just research. That she could be counted on to come through when it mattered.

Kade's words came back to her, as they had two dozen times this week.
You're an amazing woman, Autumn McGinn. If anyone can find those stones, you can.

And she had. She could do this, too.

“Mr. Robertson, this is spectacular. Truly a work of art. Couldn't we borrow the sculptures from your grandchildren?”

“Oh, dear. Oh, no, I don't think so.”

Autumn's stomach clutched with panic. She had to get that stone.

She tried a different tactic and waved her hand airily. “You don't have to give me an answer today, but why don't you talk to your children about it? Your grandchildren might be thrilled to see their gifts on display in the Smithsonian.”

Mr. Robertson's head began to nod and as it did, he started to smile. “You're right. Why, I can take them there myself and show them my art.
My
art, in the Smithsonian.”

Oh, she was going to have to make this happen.

“I'll have my daughter bring her kids' sculptures to me tomorrow,” he said. “None of my boys live in the area anymore, but they could overnight them directly to the museum.”

“Better yet,” Autumn said. “Have them mail them to me at home. That way I won't have to hunt them down.” The truth was, she didn't want to have to explain these pieces to anyone at the museum. Especially when she still had some removing and replacing of stones to do. She took out one of her business cards, wrote the marina address on the back, and handed it to him. “I'll take this one with me today.”

“Yes, indeed.” The older man grinned. “This is such a proud day.”

Autumn smiled and shook his hand. “You
should
be proud, Mr. Robertson. You have an amazing talent.” She said goodbye and started down the walk with a grin that just wouldn't be contained. One of the most powerful stones in the world—in two worlds—was safe in her hands.

A giddy euphoria bubbled up inside her, making her want to laugh. She should call Kade and tell him what he'd helped her accomplish by sharing his dream. He'd want to know. Even if he wasn't interested in her romantically.

And it was the perfect excuse to hear his voice again.

 

“Here,” Ustanis said. “This is the area where I keep smelling the stone.”

“Park the car,” Zander ordered the enchanted driver. With a scowl he turned to Ustanis. “I'm disappointed in you, Ustanis, as the king will be when we return with only half the stones.”

Ustanis met his scowl with one of his own. “This world is too large, Zander. If the king knew the impossibility of his demand…”

“If you are not up to the task, Rith will find one who is.”

Dismay pulled at Ustanis's expression. “One of the stones is nearby. I've smelled it for days, but can't find it. I fear something's blocking it. I had hoped you could tell me if there's a Sitheen in the area causing the disturbance.”

Zander opened his own senses. “No Sitheen. Holly. The plant dampens the magic that would pass through it.” He searched the houses on both sides of the street and found holly bushes in abundance. “You'll have to enter the dwellings.”

“The task could take me days.”

“Then you had best begin.”

Ustanis released a frustrated breath. But as he reached for the door handle, he froze. “I smell it clearly.” He pointed to a dwelling three houses down from which a tall, red-haired woman emerged. In her hand she carried some kind of object.

“There! The stone's power follows her path.”

His hand closed around the door's handle, but Zander stopped him.

“That deadness of energy follows her, as well. She's wearing holly and will see through your glamour. Best to approach her where she cannot escape. We'll follow. When the time and place are right, we'll retrieve what is ours.”

 

Autumn climbed into her car, set the sculpture carefully on the seat beside her, then locked the doors. She pulled her phone from her purse and pressed the speed-dial number she'd foolishly thought she'd be calling often. Kade's. As the phone rang, she pressed her head back against the seat, listening to her pulse pound as she waited for him to pick up.

“Hello?”

The sound of his deep, rich voice brought such a rush of longing she nearly couldn't talk around it. Every minute of the past week, she'd longed to hear his voice.

“Kade? It's Autumn.” Terrified he'd think she was stalking him and hang up, she rushed forward. “I found one of the Esri stones. I thought…I thought you'd like to know. Because you helped me.”

The silence on the other end was deafening.

She was an
idiot
for thinking he'd want to talk to her. “I shouldn't have called. 'Bye—”

“Autumn, wait. What do you mean, you found one of the Esri stones?” His voice was harder than she remembered, but hearing her name on his lips again sharpened the ache in her heart.