The Beckoning of Beautiful Things (The Beckoning Series) (8 page)

Just think your answers. We’re communicating mind to mind.

Marissa frowned.
How is that possible?

It’s the stone. Since I ground it, it’s attuned to me. Since you
possess the mind of the Light Rebel, we can communicate this way.

She stared at the tiny sphere and dropped it in her desk drawer. Sure enough, her head got quiet.
She picked it up once more.

Believe me?

This is creepy.

You probably do it all the time and don’t realize it. This is just a clear way to communicate with me.
It’s like having me on super speed dial.

Um, okay. It seems odd.

Only because you’re not sure of yourself yet.

Silence. Marissa didn’t know what to, er, say to that statement, not that she was saying anything. She was
only
thinking
. She shook her head and hissed to herself.
You’re making this up, Marissa. Active imagination!

This is real,
the voice in her head continued.

It sure sounded distinct from hers. She thrummed her fingers on her desk.

I realized we didn’t even exchange phone numbers. We’ve been backing up into our relationship. That’s the way of our kind.

Our kind? Humans?
Marissa rolled her eyes.

Magi. L
ux custodes. If we back into something, we don’t have to see it coming. We can pretend to be surprised.

She could picture him smiling as he thought that.
We don’t even have a relationship.

Yes, mi corazón, we do.
It’s begun. What’s your phone number?

I’m not supposed to
use it…the phone, I mean…at work.
A lengthy silence followed.
I don’t really know you. How do I know you’re not a serial killer?
Marissa squirmed.
How do I know I can trust you?
Silence.
Okay, it’s 555-9225.
Another silence ensued. “Great,” she muttered. “I’ve just given my phone number to a serial killer who likes to back into things.” The connection seemed to have dropped as she continued to hear nothing. She looked at her phone, lying on her desk. Just because she wasn’t supposed to talk, didn’t mean she never text messaged. Nothing happened. She picked it up. Nothing. She tapped it with the diamond. Nothing. Thinking herself an imaginative fool, she dropped the Herkimer diamond and phone onto her desk and regarded the disarray on the floor. Stooping down to the floor, she grabbed a gladiolus and stuck it in the vase. The cherry blossom was next, followed by the jasmine. “How do they get these things to look so good?”

“They don’t talk out loud and disturb their co-workers, that’s how.”

“Sorry,” she called to the disgruntled male’s cubicle. Her cell phone ring jarred her cubicle and she yelped.

“Can it, Engles!”

“I said, I’m sorry,” she shot back, lunging for her phone. “Hello?”

“Ms. Engles?”

The voice ricocheted through her body like a pinball, lighting up her insides.

“Believe me now?” His voice smiled through the phone.

“Believe that I have an active imagination? Absolutely.”

“How do you think I got your phone number?”

“
The phone company, Google, there are lots of ways.”

“Yours seems to be unlisted.”

Marissa blushed. “You tried to find it?”

“What do you think? That I’m a patient man? I’ve been patiently waiting for you to show up and now you’re here. I didn’t want to leave things to chance.”

The birds in her pelvis began to circle, like they were gathering speed, ready to burst through the pelvis floor.
Want, want, want, want, want.

“Still there?”

“Yes. I’m sorry. I was, er, I was tongue-tied.”

“Shut the fuck up, Engles!” called the cranky co-worker. “I’m trying to concentrate. Some of us have to actually work when we’re here.
”

“Wait,” she whispered into the phone. “I’ve got to step outside.” She hustled out of cube-land and zipped past Crazy Betty’s seat at the front counter. Pointing to her phone, she said, “It’s an emergency.”

Crazy Betty looked over the top of her reading glasses. “Love is always an emergency, child.”

Once outside, she held the phone to her ear.
“Still there?”

“When can I see you again?”

“I, um, I don’t know. The last thing you said to me was that you’d be waiting for me. You know I was a bit upset when I left.”

“I know. I waited as long as I could. And I wanted to wish you a happy birthday.”

“Well, you did. Thank you. The flowers are beautiful.”

“And the stones? How did you find them?”

“By digging through the water. My cubicle is a mess. The Herkimer diamond was a real hit.”

“Sarcasm?”

“Sorry. It’s a bad habit. The diamond took me by surprise.”

“The diamond itself or the abilities they stirred?”

“Both.”

“Have you discerned the rest?”

“I haven’t had a chance to find out. I’m swamped today.”

“So when can I see you?”

Casting aside her usual caution, she blurted, “Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow would be wonderful. I’ll take you on a proper date. We’ll talk of proper date-like things.”

“Such as?”

“You tell me. I’m not really good at dating.”

She thought a minute. “We can talk of movies.”

“Ah ha, movies.”

“Are you taking notes?”

“No. Let me get the notepad I used last night.”

“The invisible one?” A silly smile curved on her face.

“Precisely. Okay, ready.”

“Where you like to eat is a good topic. And any activities you might have. You can also talk about pets, your parents, where you grew up, and where you went to high school. Favorite books. Your favorite television shows.”

“Ah. The mundane in all its glory. And you will speak of this as well?”

“Actually…” She twisted a lock of hair around and around her finger. “I find those topics boring. I’m afraid we’ll have to wing it.”

“Free flight,” he purred into her ear.

The sound of his voice stirred the whirling birds inside into frenzy. In fact, Marissa was sure that the birds were now zipping above a herd of thundering horses, their hooves clattering on her pelvis floor, their exalted whinnies piercing her heart. Or maybe they were all fleeing from the forest fire of passion that was building inside. She fanned her cheeks with her free hand. “Yes, free flight.”

“Then I shall see you
tomorrow at, say, six?”

“Yes, I’ll be waiting.”

“Goodbye, Ms. Engles.”

Marissa thought she was going to faint from all the flutters and stampede of sensation inside.
“Goodbye…Daniel.”

Excited about her date and intrigued by her new gemstones, her mind whirled.
Jewels,
she mused.
I’ve got a mystery of jewels to solve.
The name of someone in her past flickered in her head.
Diego Perona!
She Googled the name of his jewelry store and tapped the number.

“Diego Perona,” he answered.

“Mr. Perona. It’s Marissa Engles.”

“Marissa! What a pleasure. To what do I owe the honor?”

“Well, first…how are you? I haven’t seen you since Mom and Dad died.”

“Oh, still here. I still have many clients. None as beautiful
and talented as your mother, however. Your mother was the finest gem of them all.”

A stab of pain pierced Marissa’s heart. “She was that.”

“And you, mija. How are you?”

“I’m well, thanks.” She looked up to see her boss glaring at her from inside the office. “I’m sorry
, but my boss needs me. I’ve got to be brief. I have a favor.”

“Anything.”

“I obtained some gemstones, and I need help figuring out what they are and what they mean. Would you be able to help? Or at least point me in the right direction?”

“It would be my pleasure! Please, stop by. Can you come over tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow would be perfect.” Her boss could be seen through the window glare, tapping her watch, her eyes aimed at Marissa. “I’ve got your address.”

“Same old, same old.”

“Yes. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I look forward to it, mija.”

“Me, too. Bye.” She tapped the end icon and raced into the office, eager for this day to be over.

When Marissa parked in front of Diego Perona’s jewelry store
the next day, it brought back a flood of memories. She hadn’t been back here since her youngest sister Jill had become engaged, and before that, she hadn’t stepped through these doors since her parents had died. She’d always liked the man. He’d given her chocolates as a small child and let her sit in his lap when he was making jewelry.

S
tepping from the car, she delicately retrieved the silk-lined box she’d placed the stones in, careful to not touch the diamond. No sense alerting Daniel…assuming the thought communication thing wasn’t a trick, that is.

The front door bells tinkled and chimed same as always. The ribbon
-suspended brass bells were probably the same ones that had always festooned this door. A dapper, suit clad Mr. Perona stepped out of the back room, his face expectant. Marissa’s face split wide in a grin when she saw him.

“Marissa! It’s such a pleasure to see you.”
His face-splitting smile mirrored hers.

“Same here
, Mr. Perona.”

“Call me Diego. You’re a grown woman now. The time for formality is over.” He stepped up to her and enveloped her in a huge bear hug. “Let me look at you, mija.
” He extended his arms, still clasping her shoulders. “Beautiful! You are quite breathtaking. You look like your mama with your papa’s eyes. But you have a distinction that is neither of them.”

She blushed, recalling Crazy Betty’s words that she’d get her own face this year. “You look good, too, Mr
. … I mean Diego.” She cast her eyes to her feet and then back to him. His face was lined with wrinkles, his hair was dusted with gray, but there was still handsome elegance to his features. “You’ve hardly aged a day.”

“Oh!” he said, putting his arm around her and leading her into the back room. “
How you flatter me. I’ve certainly grown older. Ask these bones and joints of mine.” Entering his client consultation room, he pointed to a chair in front of a large, impressive desk of carved walnut. “Sit, mija. Show me the gemstones.”

Marissa placed the box on the desk and removed the top.
She glanced around at the room fondly, remembering all the times she’d sat in her mother’s lap, listening to them discuss designs, settings, and gems for her mother’s endless appearances. He’d let her finger the fine stones as if they were mere toys. She supposed he hadn’t let her touch the expensive ones.

She gently unfolded the scarf edges
to reveal the contents of the box.

Diego’s eyes widened as he gazed at the stones. “May I?” he asked her.

She nodded.

He took the golden orb out and held it up to his eye. “Nice specimen. This is yellow
Jasper. It comes from South Africa and is said to be a very grounding stone. It induces power in the wearer and is also said to relieve pain and suffering.” His fingers reached for the sparkling red gem and a gasp left his mouth.

“Is that a
garnet?”

“No,
mija. It’s appears to be a red diamond.”

“I thought
diamonds were clear.”

“The
normal ones are. If I’m right, this one is an extremely rare find –
extremely rare
. There are only 50 known reds in the world. These come from Australia and Brazil
.
This one is incredible. Look at it – see the lack of imperfections?”

Marissa nodded.

“That’s called ‘eye clean.’ A stone this size and this clean would bring a hefty price on the black market – a fortune. Where did you say you got these?”

“Um, a friend gave them to me.”

“A very good friend, I should think.” He reached for a magnifying glass and fitted it over his head. Holding the red gem up to the lens, he turned it back and forth. “A beauty…”

“My friend collects beautiful things.”

Diego lifted up the lens, gave her a piercing stare, and said, “I can see that.” Then he got back to his examination. When he seemed satisfied, he placed it back in the box. He pivoted and strode to a nearby bookshelf, scanned it, and pulled a large volume from the shelf. When he had placed it on the desk, he flipped to a section of the book, whipped out his reading glasses, and read. “Yes, that’s what I remember. The red diamond is a rare and precious stone of vitality, self-awareness, and energy. It awakens the kundalini energy and inspires love, devotion, and passion.”

Want.
Marissa inhaled sharply as her whole body flooded with sensation. Jason had schooled her in the power of kundalini often performing rituals he called pujas with her. She found them rather lame, but he’d insisted that she was a natural at channeling kundalini.

Diego
peered over his reading glasses at her, and a lightning bolt of something indiscernible skittered across his face. “Let’s take a look at the next one.” His skilled fingers plucked the next red gem from its resting place. “Gorgeous,” he breathed, putting the jeweler’s lens in place. “Simply exquisite. Do you know what you’ve got here?”

Marissa shook her head, feeling a quiver of excitement.

“This, mija, is a Burma Ruby, one of the rarest in the world. Look at this color…it’s called pigeon blood red. It’s extremely rare to find a stone of this quality and size. And it’s eye clean as well. This beauty is worth a lot.”

Marissa’s cheeks were hot with color. Daniel had placed a
treasure’s worth of gemstones in the bottom of a vase of flowers. Anyone – the delivery guy, the florist, one of her co-workers – could have stolen the gems, and she’d be none the wiser. “What does it mean? It’s significance, I mean.”

“Well,” he said, flipping the pages of the well-worn book.
“The ruby in general is a stone that evokes passion and creativity. It is said to increase ones strength and courage as well. I used to place these stones into the designs I made for your mother to protect…I mean, to present her to the public.” His eyes looked intently at the desk. “But never one as fine as this…”

Marissa’s eyes narrowed.
Had he almost said that he made designs to protect her?
“You made some exquisite pieces for her. Many of them were lost in the plane crash.”

His head snapped up and t
hat flicker of something imperceptible shadowed his face again.

What’
s he hiding?

Diego pulled a handkerchief
from his suit pocket and dabbed at his face. “Yes, it’s a pity they were never recovered.”

“Yes, it was,” Marissa agreed. She waited for him to offer up something more
, but he deftly moved forward in the conversation.

“Lapis lazuli, I should think,” he said smoothly, plucking the blue orb from the silken nest.
“But such precious lapis lazuli. See the color, mija?”

She squinted at the deep, midnight blue sphere, flecked with gold.

“See how dark it is? It can only come from Afghanistan. This piece is incredible.” He took the lenses from his head and regarded her thoughtfully. “How well did you say you knew this friend?”

“Not well.” Marissa lowered her eyes to the box of gems. “We just met.”

“Well, he’s trying to impress the hell out of you, mija. Either that or he wants to convey a message of some kind.”

“I think it’s the latter.” She squi
rmed in her seat and avoided eye contact.

“And what kind of message does he want to convey?”

“He thinks I have some kind of special abilities.”

“Does he now?” Diego’s fingers thrummed the desk. He picked up the lapis lazuli again and regarded it thoughtfully.
“Of what kind?”

“Of the
magical kind,” she blurted. “He says I am a bottomless well of light and magic…and something called a Light Rebel.” She did a face-plant on the desk. She wanted to scream.
Why am I so compulsive about speaking?
Her mother’s dear friend would think she’d gone off the deep end for sure. She refused to lift her head from the desk. Maybe he would get up and walk away, and she could slink out the building. A lengthy silence stretched between them marked by the steady tick of the old fashioned clock on the wall. Marissa focused on her breath. In and out…in and out…in and out…

Diego’s voice punctuated the silence.
“I think there is something you should know, mija.”

“What?” she mumbled into the desk.

“Should I continue to tell this to the back of your head? I’d prefer speaking to the front.”

She
pictured him smiling so she gathered courage and sat up in her seat.

“Your mother was a trained
Light Diva – she was highly skilled in light magic.”

The statement shot through her like it had been fired from a high powered rifle.
“What?”

“What I just said. Your mother was a powerful
Light Diva. She was a sought-after healer as well. Her vocal career was her cover. She traveled the world to sing and to heal. She trained to allow electrical impulses to flow from her throat while she sang. She could focus the impulses on the body or mind and profound healing would occur. Her best work was done in war torn regions or places of extreme conflict. She could promote change through song. It was remarkable, really. No one knew what hit them.” He chuckled.

Marissa flung back her head
back, let her mouth fall open, and stared at the ceiling. She could not believe her ears. She lifted her head, stared at the bookshelf, and slowly shook her head back and forth, back and forth, trying to make sense of what she had just been told. Finally, she stood up and paced around the room. “Did my father know?”

“Yes.”

“My sisters?”

“Yes.”

“And everyone kept this from me why, exactly?”

Diego spoke gently, as if she was a wild filly
ready to buck and bolt. “You were a child, mija. Your sisters claimed it was just superstition. They chose not to believe.”

Marissa nodded. Her sisters, seven and nine years older than her, always possessed a practical, pragmatic side to them. She was considered the wild hair of the family. She was the creative.

“But it’s presumed that your mother didn’t simply die in a tragic plane crash. Otherwise the jewelry would have been recovered. We think it was stolen to be used for magic. We also think that the crash was the result of powerful spells. Your mother was going down to Central America for a reason.”

“And what reason was that?”

“Your mother and father had been told that you would come into your significant powers in your late 20s.”

Marissa’s eyes whipped up to meet his. “What significant powers?
What are you talking about?”

“A sign had been given when you were born.”

“What sign? What are you talking about?” Her fingers clutched the edge of the desk. She pried her fingers loose and placed them in her lap.

“Your mother had been travel
ling late into her pregnancy with you – something she was advised against. She was a willful one, your mother.” He removed his reading glasses and rubbed his eyes. “She accommodated the doctor’s requests by travelling with a midwife.” He chuckled. “Your mother’s doctor was outraged by that, but what could he do? Your father, mother, and a few close companions were on the island of Madagascar when she went into labor. It was early for her to give birth to you, but you were ready to be born. Perhaps you liked that island. It’s a magical place.” He smiled at her. “Anyway, they hustled your mama to the home of her travel guide and there you were born. You came out rather quickly, mija.” Again, he smiled at her.

“What was the sign? Besides being born on an island somewhere.”

“The story is quite remarkable. The guide lived in a modest home cut into the side of a hill in the jungle.” He chuckled. “I guess it was quite a sight to see your mother brushing aside the assistance of the men as she climbed the trail to the house, stopping to lean against a tree when a contraction came – she was very stubborn, she was.

The windows of this home were all flung open wide to let a breeze flow through. It was quite hot and your mother insisted that ever
y window be open. Also, there was a hole in the roof above your mother. The guide was apparently in the midst of installing a sky window to look out at the stars at night. Your mother said it calmed her to look up and see trees and sky between contractions.”

“I can relate. The trees and the sky calm me down, too.”

“You were always like your mother, mija. Your sisters, they took after their father and his stern Germanic blood.” He paused to look at her, smiling warmly. “The lemurs let out quite a keening as you were being born. They issue a shrieking, howling kind of caterwaul. Did you know that they named lemurs after the Roman name ‘lemure’?”

“No, I didn’t know that.”

“It means ghost and spirits, and it’s easy to see why when you hear them. Their cries are rather eerie. In the night, it can make your hair stand on end. The Malagasy hold a lot of superstitions about the lemurs. They believe if you kill one of them, you will suffer the same fate.”