Guardians of Stone (The Relic Seekers) (4 page)

The words on the stone began to glow, growing brighter and brighter until a stream of light burst from within, filling the room. She huddled close to the floor as the glow surrounded her. Then her father was there, staring at her, the look on his face one she’d seen too much lately. Fear. She stretched out her hands, desperate to feel him, to wipe away the fear, to know he was alive. A shadow slipped up behind him, and she felt the evil swirling inside the dark mass. Her father hadn’t seen it yet. She had to warn him.

She opened her eyes and saw a figure leaning over the bed. His head was covered and he wore a robe like a monk’s. She opened her mouth and screamed.

Kendall’s door flew open and she shot up in bed. Jake burst into the room wearing only a towel, his gun raised. He scanned the area, and then lowered the weapon.

“What happened?”

She looked quickly around the room at the luxurious furnishings, her bag on the table, the lamp by the bed, Jake half-naked by the door. No monk. She put a hand over her heart. “Nothing. Did you break my door?”

“No. You screamed.”

“I’m sorry. I had a dream.” She glanced at the towel clinging to his hips.

“You have nightmares?” Something in his tone made her think he was no stranger to them either.

“It was nothing.” Her heart was still pounding so hard she was surprised he couldn’t hear it.

“A ploy, then.”

“A ploy?”

His towel slipped an inch. “To get me in here. If you wanted sex, you could’ve just asked.”

He got out before the pillow hit the door.

Kendall looked around the room, still expecting to see the dark figure reaching for her. He must have been part of her dream. Or vision. She lay back on the bed, dreading sleep, afraid
the dream would come again, even though she couldn’t remember what she’d dreamt of other than the monk. Too much talk about monks and secret orders, she supposed. She rolled onto her side and curled into a ball, staring at the door. She was tempted to go after Jake and let him distract her. Not with sex but a good fight.

She woke in the morning feeling like she had run a marathon. Judging by the tangle of sheets, she had. She rose and walked outside to get something from the kitchen, which had been fully stocked with her favorite foods. The hotel’s service was amazing. Nathan must be paying a fortune for this place. A piece of paper had been shoved under the suite door. A note from the maids? She picked up the paper and read: “Your search will end in death.”

Surely Jake wasn’t this desperate to get rid of her. Had someone followed them? She concentrated on the note, trying to get a sense of who had written it. A dark-haired man, that’s all she got. Jake had dark hair. But this seemed beneath Jake. She went to his door and knocked. He didn’t answer. He was probably at breakfast. She turned the knob and saw the door wasn’t locked. Slipping inside, she started searching the room for a sample of his handwriting. She didn’t want to confront him without proof. Their working relationship was already strained. He must have a signed invoice or a notebook or something. She didn’t find an invoice, but she did notice his duffel bag on the bed.

She experienced a twinge of guilt as she unzipped it, but snooping wasn’t like digging into someone’s head. Anyone could snoop, and if she was going to trust him with her life, she needed to know more about Jake Stone. She knew a few things. He was intelligent, strong, and didn’t take well to orders, which made her wonder why he was letting Nathan tell him what to do. He was angry, at whom she didn’t know. Other than Nathan. The tension between them was as thick as sludge. Whatever Nathan was holding over his head didn’t sit well with Jake.

His duffel was neat and efficiently packed. The work of Fergus? Three pairs of black combat pants, a couple of pairs of jeans. One pair of khakis. A leather jacket. A second pair of boots. Black, military. There were several T-shirts, all dark colors, along with socks and underwear. There weren’t any pajamas, but that didn’t surprise her. He didn’t seem like a pajama kind of guy.

She spotted his backpack on a chair. She might have more luck finding something handwritten there. Inside were the usual items a badass bodyguard might carry: a rolled-up jacket, thermal blanket, rope, gloves, compass, knife, matches, lighter, bottled water, and first-aid kit. The little wooden doll she found at the bottom of the pack didn’t seem to belong. She picked it up, studying the workmanship. It had been hand carved, with amazing detail etched in the face.

She couldn’t breathe. Dirt covered her body, filling her mouth and nose. She freed her hands but the more she clawed, the more dirt fell. Panic, blackness. Then nothing
.

Kendall dropped the doll inside the pack, pulse racing. She tried to rationalize the vision. It was connected to the doll. Why did Jake have it and who did he know that had been buried alive? She saw a piece of paper in one of the side pockets and started to reach for it when she heard a sound coming from the bathroom. She zipped the backpack and jumped up to leave.

“I told you, all you gotta do is ask,” Jake said from the bathroom door. Of course he was naked.

Kendall quickly turned her back. “Geez, do you ever wear clothes?” Her first instinct was to turn back around and throw something at him, but that would mean looking at all that nakedness. “I knocked but you didn’t answer.”

“I didn’t hear you. My head was underwater.”

“Underwater?” She edged toward the door.

“I was soaking my sore muscles. The tub’s the size of a small pool. There’s plenty of room for two if you’re game.”

“No thanks.” She wasn’t about to ask what he had been doing to make his muscles sore. “I’ll come back when you’re dressed.”

“No need. I’m not shy.”

She heard a sound that she hoped was a towel being wrapped around his body. When she turned, he was tucking the edges around his waist. She’d seen more of him in the last few hours than she’d seen of all the men she’d dated in the past two years.

“Did you write this?” She thrust the note at him, trying to keep her eyes on his face. She hadn’t seen a chest that sexy since...maybe never.

“What’s this?” Frowning, he took the note.

His hands were sexy too. Nice fingers, well shaped. Everything he had was sexy, she thought, immediately banishing the bare image. She folded her arms. “Are you trying to scare me off?”

“You think I wrote this?”

“You didn’t want me here. Remember your ‘I work alone’ speech?”

“Are you crazy? I didn’t write this. Where did you find it?”

Being called crazy went a long way toward neutralizing lust. “It was on the suite floor this morning.”

He cursed. “Well, Legs. Either someone’s warning us to back off or they want us dead.”

“Unless you wrote it,” Jake added, studying the note. It was written on hotel paper. So much for staying undercover.

“Why would I write it?” she asked.

He shrugged. “You didn’t want to work with me any more than I wanted to work with you.” Something they’d have to fix. Trust was crucial in the field. Their lives could depend on it. And if he botched this assignment, he was as good as dead. He put the note down and opened his duffel bag, pulling out boxers and socks.

She eyed the underwear. “But I haven’t been acting like an ass. You’ve been trying to intimidate me since we met.”

He sat on the side of his bed, dropped the boxers next to the note and rubbed the remnants of last night’s headache nudging the base of his skull. He wondered if she’d hit him if he asked for a massage. Soaking in hot water hadn’t helped his aching muscles. “Sorry. I don’t like this job. Nathan knows more than he’s saying.”

She cast another suspicious look at his boxers lying on the bed but seemed to decide that he wouldn’t put them on with her still in the room. He was tempted to do it just to get her reaction, but that wouldn’t help matters now.

“I don’t like all this secrecy either,” she said. “But it’s no reason to act like a lecherous scumbag.”

“I haven’t been that bad.”

“Yes you have.”

“I’ll try not to act like a lecherous scumbag if you’ll stop sneaking off to spy on strange men.”

“I wasn’t—”

Jake held up a hand. “Whatever the reason, just don’t.” He waved the note at her. “I can’t keep you safe—or alive—if you don’t stick close. Now, how about we let bygones be bygones and get breakfast. I’m ready to eat this bed.” Preferably with her in it, nasty glare and all. “Then we’re going to find this damned box and go home. I think your guy in the elevator must have written the note.”

“I got some weird impressions from him,” she said.

So had he, but his attempt to sneak into the guy’s room through the balcony had been interrupted when the couple next door caught him picking Elevator Guy’s lock. Jake had had to escape without taking time to put on his climbing gear. Leaping from balcony to balcony, nine floors in the air with a heavy pack strapped on his back, was murder on the arms and legs. “Can’t you do your psychic...uh, bloodhound stuff on the note and find out who wrote it?”

She rolled her eyes. “I tried before. It wasn’t clear. I can try again.”

She took the note and ran her hands over it, her fingers stroking the paper. It was kind of sensuous. Then he saw the look on her face change, and it reminded him of when he was a kid, watching the blind lady across the street read to him in Braille. Kendall’s eyes flew open.

“What?” he asked leaning forward.

“Death.”

“Damn.” She’d had him there for a second. “Can’t you come up with something more original?”

“You’ve been suspicious of me from the start. I don’t know what you think I’m after.”

“For starters, Nathan’s billions.”

“You don’t have to believe me,” she said, “but the guy in the elevator is connected to the note.”

“How come you didn’t
see
this before?” Jake asked.

“I don’t know why it works the way it does.” Her face softened and her lips thinned to the point that he wondered if she was going to cry. “He’s going to die.”

“Die? What do you mean?” Everyone died eventually.

“Someone’s going to stab him.”

“You saw this?”

She nodded and rubbed her arms.

“When?” Jake asked. “Tomorrow? Next year?”

“Soon.”

Jake stared at her, not sure what to say. “Is that why you were hiding outside his room? Waiting to warn him?”

“No. I didn’t know until just now.”

“Did you see who stabs him?”

She shook her head.

“Does this happen a lot? Seeing someone’s death?”

“Not often. I’m not a palm reader. I get more impressions from objects than people, but lately my senses have been going haywire.”

“If you know someone’s going to die, do you tell them?” Talk about the bearer of bad news.

“No.” She looked so haunted he wanted to pat her hand or something, but he didn’t want her to think he was hitting on her. He didn’t blame her. She was right. He had been an ass since they met.

Nathan chose that moment to call. Jake told him about the note. Nathan seemed alarmed but not surprised, which made Jake wonder again how much Nathan knew and wasn’t telling them. After listening to Nathan’s instructions Jake hung up. “We’re meeting our contact at eleven. Get ready to leave.”

“I’m not packed.”

“Then get packed. Take everything; we’re not coming back. I’ll have to figure out why this guy wrote the note and why he wants us dead.”

“It may be just a warning,” she said, her face still looking like a lost little girl’s. If he didn’t get her out of this funk, she wouldn’t be any good at finding anything. He reached for his towel. “I’d suggest you leave now unless you want to watch me dress.”

Sure enough, she shot him a dirty look and slammed the door on her way out.

Mission accomplished.