Cross Waves, page 27
“What is she doing?” Cynthia shouted. “No. No, she can’t. She doesn’t deserve to live. She doesn’t deserve…”
Her words dropped like a switch had been flipped to end the sound. Rolf turned. Cynthia plunged to the ground. Her eyes rolled back in her head so that he could see the whites of her eyes. Her body stiffened and twitched as if she’d touched a live wire. Then it relaxed, and she lay unmoving. Nate rushed forward, kneeling over her, feeling for a pulse. “She’s dead.”
Rolf figured he would feel something—cold hard satisfaction, bone-aching relief, numbing anger. But concern and fear for Geneva consumed his thoughts.
Could it be? Was it possible Nonna had brought her back from death? He rushed to Geneva’s side. She opened her eyes and tried to sit.
“Jesus Christ.” The words were all he could manage before collecting her into his arms and holding on tight. “Take it easy, honey. It’s all right. Take your time.”
“She’ll be fine now.” Nonna gave him a warm smile and a pat on the cheek. “We’ll all be just fine.”
“What happened to her?” Geneva pointed at Cynthia. “You didn’t…?”
Rolf looked into her eyes so she knew he spoke the truth. “No, I didn’t kill her, although I wanted to.”
“What…”
Peter cleared his throat. “I believe the energy in the crystal returned to its source.”
Julia gasped. “Of course. That makes sense. The energy in the crystal has to go somewhere, doesn’t it? When it didn’t kill Geneva, it returned to the person who activated it, Cynthia.”
“It would appear so.” Peter laid a hand on Rolf’s shoulder. “Son, we should get both of you to the Cleveland Clinic to be checked out. It’s clear Cynthia possessed the crystals all along.” He pointed at the Ericksen brothers and the black velvet bag. “Let’s get these to the lab and have them analyzed.”
Geneva’s father appeared at their side, looking ten years older. “The Scarlet Heart. I never thought I’d see it again.”
“Dad, are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Your father has.” Peter touched the pink crystal that no longer pulsed and glittered with energy. “The Scarlet Heart was last seen twenty years ago when your mother was killed by the intruder who made off with the crystals she and your father collected. It appears Senator Torra was the recipient. He and Cynthia had been holding on to them all these years, searching for others.”
“We’ve checked the premises.” Nate came beside them. “There’s a safe in the back. Danny managed to open it. Nothing inside.”
“Makes sense,” Peter said. “There were only ever a few genuine crystals. It seems the Torras have used them all. Once activated, they cannot be reused. This”—he held the Scarlet Heart between two fingers—“is now just a pretty jewel.”
Rolf stood, pulling Geneva into his arms with a wince. Now that the excitement had passed, his left side hurt like hell. He eyed Peter. “You no longer believe either of us a threat to society?”
Peter shook his head. “No, I don’t. What I witnessed today was a man pushed to the end of his rope, who still managed to hang on and do the right thing for the woman he loves.” He gave Geneva the glimmer of a smile. “And a woman who loves her man. So much so, she defied death itself. I’d say you both deserve a happy ever after.”
Geneva’s father came forward, holding out his hand to Rolf. “I feel the need to apologize on behalf of myself and my sons for doubting you cared for my daughter.”
Rolf frowned. “You no longer believe the legend?”
Carl Ericksen grinned. “What, a dark master isn’t capable of love? I think we’d all agree, any man who’s willing to take a bullet for Geneva loves her. You’re okay in my book, Jorgensen.”
Then Julia and Nonna hugged him, the Ericksen brothers shook his hand, and Peter called for an ambulance. And Geneva smiled at him through tears of pure joy, and the world that had been spinning lopsided on its axis for most of his life, shifted, righting itself.
And Rolf knew with a certainty even the dark in him couldn’t conquer, everything he ever wanted from life was right here, in this room, shining from Geneva’s adoring eyes.
Epilogue
Six Months Later
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Caleb Stone entered the ancient gray church on Cleveland’s Public Square and spotted an open seat toward the back, in a wooden pew hidden in shadow. A wedding ceremony was in progress, but he managed to slip inside undetected. His sharp gaze found the bride and groom, taking in their sleek forms in a single glance.
Rolf Jorgensen, dressed in a black tux, stood at the altar and confessed his deep love and undying devotion to his bride, Geneva Ericksen, who presented him with a tremulous smile. Caleb had made the right decision allowing Jorgensen to escape. These two looked at each other with the kind of tenderness and passion he could only dream about. The bride’s golden hair was pulled into a soft bun on the back of her neck. She wore a set of glistening pearls and flowers in her hair. She looked beautiful, as all brides should. But she didn’t hold Caleb’s attention for long.
His penetrating gaze slipped past the bride and settled on her maid of honor, Julia Jorgensen. She’d arranged her dark hair as he preferred it, swept to one side, and trailing down her back and onto her navy-blue dress. She carried a bouquet of soft-pink roses, the perfect complement to the pink in her cheeks. As if she sensed his presence, she turned her head in his direction. He reacted on instinct, drawing his energy inward to avoid detection. He was a creature of nighttime dreams and smoke and mirrors, a shadow of a man, more figment of imagination than flesh and blood. His fate didn’t lie with Julia. And yet…
Caleb didn’t move, unable to pull his eyes away. And yet…
The preacher asked the usual question—whether anyone should object to the marriage. Carl Ericksen stirred but said nothing. The rest of the congregation let out a collective sigh.
Jorgensen kissed his bride, perhaps lingering longer than normal wedding etiquette allowed. But of course, these two were far from normal. Even in a crowd like this, those with psychic abilities—Caleb counted twenty before growing tired—could feel the potent combination of the couple’s combined talent. Apart they were powerful. United…Caleb hoped he’d never be called upon to find out how powerful a couple they were united.
The glowing bride and groom turned to face the crowd. The minister presented the new Mr. and Mrs. Jorgensen.
The congregation roared. Caleb joined in their clapping. Despite the fact he could not steal joy for himself, it gave him great pleasure to see this particular couple happy. Not because he’d played a crucial role in their happiness, which he had. Not because he grew tired of his own existence, which he did. But because it made Julia happy, which he acknowledged had become his primary reason for being.
He followed the bridal party’s procession down the aisle. Julia met with her partner, Nate Ericksen, who wrapped an arm around her waist. Caleb worked to suppress the stab of jealousy to see another man’s hands where his could never be.
Guests were leaving the pews now to greet the happy couple in the back of the church. It was his cue to depart. He’d promised himself he’d not linger long. Yet, he argued, what would one more minute hurt? One more minute to bask in Julia’s presence. One more minute to imagine his hands on the soft curve of her waist, to pull her close and kiss her rosy lips, to run his hands through her thick, dark hair.
Stop. He must stop. He must put her out of his head. He could no longer risk lingering in her dreams. He feared he’d revealed himself during this latest escapade. And yet…
And yet, he couldn’t stand by and watch her suffer. Not for a day, not for an instant, and not knowing her life was in grave danger. Julia may never be his, but his heart still loved her as if she were. He would warn her of this latest threat. One final time, he promised himself. And when he knew she was safe, he’d leave her to find what happiness she could in another man’s arms.
Geneva and Rolf Jorgensen waved goodbye and stepped into the waiting black limousine. His sweet Julia hugged them, brushing away a tear. He drew his brows together, his forehead creasing. He longed to kiss her tears away.
The limousine pulled forward. Next to him, a girl said the couple planned to travel to Hawaii, where they’d spend a month basking in the glorious Hawaiian sun.
Time to go. The deed is done.
Caleb turned. If he stayed a moment longer, Julia would spot him. And all would be lost. But, he reminded himself, he would return to her late tonight, when she lay in her bed dreaming. One last time he’d visit, pull her into his arms, and tell her how to avoid danger. And afterward. And afterward, he promised himself, he’d take himself off to some foreign country—Russia or Lithuania or the moon—and stay far, far away from the everlasting temptation Julia Jorgensen presented. So far away he’d no longer die a little bit inside each time she held another man’s hands, or caressed his cheek, or kissed his lips. So far away he would no longer feel this overwhelming desire and ache to make her his own.
Caleb Stone pulled his black leather jacket tight and walked to the parking lot behind the church to find his car. He never looked back. If he had, he would have gotten no rest that night. Nonna stared after him, a half-smile on her face, one wandering brown eye moving over his retreating form.
About the Author
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Author’s Note
Sometimes books enter the world painlessly. Sometimes it takes months and in the case of Cross Waves, years, to capture the story. (The title is aptly named.)
I’m grateful to all the many editors who looked at this book, most especially Angela James for her terrific developmental edits and providing me with a clear line of advice to make this story come alive, and to Tera Cuskaden and Marin McGinnis, for their eagle-eye copy editing and proofreading.
I am also eternally grateful to my critique partners, Angie Hockman and the Pretty Little Writers (Tara Sammon, Judy McDonough, Joyce Caylor, Cathy Matuszak, and Lydia Sharp), and to all my many beta readers. Thank you for shaping this book into what it is today by reading and re-reading chapters.
My biggest cheerleaders are my family—both immediate and extended—thank you for putting up with my many mood swings (my husband, Barry, and children, Simon, Samuel, and Ella), reading my books, and cheering me on. I am so grateful for your support.
And finally, to my loyal readers for sticking with me on the long and arduous journey to publication. You are what make this all worthwhile.
Love and hugs — Amanda
Other Books By Amanda Uhl
Mind Waves, Mind Hackers Series, Book 1
Charmed By Charlie
A word about the author…
Amanda Uhl has always had a fascination with the mystical. Having drawn her first breath in a century home rumored to be haunted, you might say she was “born” into it. After a brief stint in college as a paid psychic, Amanda graduated with a bachelor of fine arts in theatre and a master’s degree in marketing. Over the past twenty years, she has worked as an admissions representative and graphic designer, owned her own freelance writing company, and managed communications for several Fortune 500 companies, most recently specializing in cyber security. Amanda is an avid reader and writes fast-paced, paranormal romantic suspense and humorous contemporary romance from her home in Cleveland, Ohio. When she’s not reading or writing, you can find Amanda with her husband and three children, gathering beach glass on the Lake Erie shoreline or biking in Cuyahoga Valley National Park.
Amanda Uhl, Cross Waves
