Black Opal: Amulet, #3

Also by Sandra Cox

Nonfiction

Flower Gardens and More

Paranormal Romantic Suspense

The Crystal

Amulets

Boji Stones

Rose Quartz

Time Travel Romance

Sundial

Romantic Suspense

Queen of Diamonds

Young Adult Series

Mutants 

Love, Lattes, and Mutants

Love, Lattes, and Danger

Love, Lattes, and Angel

Hunter

Vampire Island

Moon Watchers

Vampire Bay

Cats of Catarau

Shardai

Akasha

Makita

Young Adult

Sunset

Minder

Odin Cats

Ghost For Sale

Anthologies

A Matter of Taste (Retired)

Parallels: Felix Was Here

Copyright © 2008 Sandra Cox

This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

PREVIOUSLY PUBLISHED by Cerridwen Press Publication

Dedication

In remembrance of Karen, Lee and Tadji.

And To The Reader

Thank you. As always, your support is greatly appreciated.

Prologue

She stared intently at the computer screen. She’d broken the code and figured out her father’s password. It’d been easy. The warden said her father had written her name and the word amulets in his own blood before he died.

Scanning the screen, she read—

Legend has it that out of all the mortals on earth five women found favor with the gods—

Sophia whose face was pitted and ravaged by pox,

Pelagia who had the body of a woman and the mind of a child,

Olympia a poor widow with children to feed,

Helen,  who  lost  four  of  her  children  to  the  plague and  begged  the  gods  to  spare  her remaining child,

and

Zoe, a young queen whose village was razed and plundered and she herself taken as a slave.

Moved, the gods created five special amulets in the form of armbands for the women to wear on their forearms.

For Sophia an amulet forged with beauty and creativity.

For Pelagia an amulet forged with knowledge.

For Olympia an amulet forged with wealth.

For Helen an amulet forged with healing.

And for Zoe a golden amulet, with a black opal at its center, forged with power.

The air-conditioning in the  room  was  cold  enough  to  leave  goose  bumps  but Victoria Price didn’t notice. The black leather chair creaked in protest as she leaned back, her breath leaving her lungs in a hiss.

The pain in her hands made her glance down. They were fisted so tightly the moon-shaped crescents in her palms where her nails dug in were filling with warm red blood.

Chapter One

The mingled scents of alcohol and heavy perfume hung like a low mist in the air.

Beads of perspiration glistened on Sabina’s forehead as the heat from the stage lights enveloped her. Eyes closed, she barely noticed. When Sabina sang she became one with the music. Every strum of the guitar, every bluesy note of the sax vibrated through her body and into her soul. Her emotion reflected in the throbbing hush of the audience as the song erupted from her throat like a nightingale in flight.

She clasped the sweat-slicked microphone and drew air deep into her lungs. Just as she reached for the high note, a hard body careened against her and knocked her off the stool.

She watched the horror on the faces of the audience as she arced through the air in slow  motion  before  she  and  the  man  wrapped  around  her,  slammed  against  the wooden floor. Moments later the large stage light landed with a loud crash, splintering the stool she’d sat on only a moment before.

The audience jumped out of their seats, screaming. Their voices filled with fear and panic.

Pull the curtain, the manager yelled over the shrieks.

Clutched too tightly to move, the short harsh gasps of her rescuer reverberated in her ear and his heart knocked against hers. Even though she’d never been in his arms, she knew who held her. Still in shock, she blurted out the first thing that came into her mind, What are you doing here?

It appears I’m saving your life. The voice was calm, whiskey-smooth but a shudder had run the length of his body before he spoke.

What the hell just happened? His arms tightened around her, barely allowing her to breathe.

She feared her ribs were in danger of being crushed. How could such a slender- looking individual be so strong?

Before she could respond, Maureen Wolfe pushed people out of the way and ran toward her. Marnie, as she was called by her friends, reached down and ruthlessly yanked her from Adam Morelly’s arms.

At Marnie’s touch, a wave of revitalization washed through her. Hello, Marnie.

Marnie winced as bruises that hadn’t had time to hurt rushed out of Sabina’s body, through her system and into her healing amulet.

Let go. I’m all right. And I’m causing you pain.

Her grasp firm, Marnie held on a moment longer.

Is she all right?

Sabina turned her head. Her other friend, the beautiful Isabella Tremaine- McHenry, owner of the beauty-creativity amulet stared at her anxiously, her face dead white.

Sabina pushed Marnie’s hands away. I’m fine. As she started to rise, Adam got to his feet and pulled her up in one smooth motion.

The manager came rushing up wringing his hands. Ms. Comti, are you all right? I assure you, nothing like this has ever happened at the Odyssey Lounge before.

Sabina straightened her shoulders. Even though she wasn’t wearing the power amulet, its residual effects still slicked her skin.  I’m fine.  Why don’t you go and reassure the audience and invite them back tomorrow night.

That’s a fine idea but it will be standing room only. Every night is sold out. He ran his hand through his thinning blond hair, leaving the short mousse-lacquered strands in disarray.

I’ll perform an extra night.

Oh would you, Ms. Comti? That would be perfect. Thank you. His thin rounded shoulders sagged in relief.

Mr. Lewis. Adam Morelly’s voice wasn’t raised but it carried an edge like a finely honed stiletto.

The stage manager raised an inquiring brow. Sir?

Ms. Comti’s concern may be for the audience.  Mine is what happened here tonight. I want a full accounting. I want a background check on everyone who’s been on stage in the past twenty-four hours and I want it yesterday. I don’t care if they’ve worked here since the dawn of time.

And you would be, sir? The nervous little man looked like he couldn’t decide whether to be apprehensive or annoyed.

I’m Adam Morelly.

Sabina didn’t think it was possible but the stage manager looked even pastier than he had before. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he gulped. Johnny Morelly’s nephew?

Adam’s chin dipped in a short, sharp nod.

I’ll get right on it, sir.

And I want the security in this place doubled.

Surely, you don’t think it was anything but an accident, Mr. Lewis protested.

Just do it.

Sabina stared at Adam. Here was power that didn’t come from an amulet. Dressed in black, a diamond winking on his left pinkie, he looked as dangerous as a panther and every bit as untamable.

Her friends exchanged a look. It might just be time to have a cozy little chat. But before that... She turned to face Adam. What exactly is your uncle to the manager?

His boss. He stood with his legs splayed. His dark eyes hooded.

For some reason she couldn’t fathom or didn’t want to, a queer little tug of disappointment jolted her belly as her lips formed an O. Well, that explains it. There was no reason Adam should be here to see her perform. They’d only met once, at Maureen’s wedding. Just because he’d overwhelmed her senses didn’t mean it was reciprocal. Though there were times when she could have sworn he was as much aware of her as she was aware of him and his hard, edgy body.

Thank you seems inadequate after you just saved my life. Strange she’d never noticed those specks of glittering amber in his eyes before.  Once again she thought of a wild cat ready to leap. She reached out her hand.

He didn’t make the clichéd return about what she could do to repay him. He simply clasped her hand. You’re welcome.

Her blood quickened and heat shoot through her at the contact.

His thumb caressed the back of her hand then he let go. Let’s get you to the hospital.

That’s completely unnecessary. I feel fine.

It must be the adrenaline still pumping. I feel like I’ve been hit by a Mack truck.

That’s because you cushioned me with your body and took the worst of the fall. She pushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear, proud that her hand barely trembled.

Adam watched her through those piercing, flecked eyes, his glance lingering on her hair.

Marnie stepped forward and took Adam’s hand. I want to thank you for saving Sabina’s life.

He gave a visible start as if something had just pumped through him.

Marnie dropped his hand.

He stared at her through narrowed eyes. His glance slid to the amulet on her left arm, then to the one on Isabella Tremaine-McHenry’s arm and finally to Sabina’s bare arm.

His gaze swiveled back to Marnie. How did you do that? he asked, his voice rough, his breathing hard.

She blinked at him, her expression puzzled. I’m sorry?

When you touched me just now.

Mr. Morelly, maybe you should go to the hospital and get checked out. You may have bumped your head. I merely shook your hand. Her brow furrowed, her expression concerned.

He brought her hand to his lips and kissed the back of it. His eyes narrowed and the muscles along his arms jumped as if he’d received a jolt but he only said, I never argue with a lady.

Marnie’s green eyes twinkled. You’re a wise man.

She slipped her arm through Sabina’s. We are going to steal her away now. I promise you, we’ll take good care of her.

I don’t doubt it.

He turned to Sabina. I’ll check on you tomorrow. He gave her one long look before striding away.

Sabina heard the click of his heels as he trotted down the steps. She could hear his voice murmuring reassurances to the crowd. Putting the intriguing Adam Morelly from her mind, she turned to her friends.

Bella hugged her. Are you sure you’re all right?

Thanks to Adam’s quick thinking and Marnie’s healing touch, I’m just fine.

Bella turned to Marnie, laughing. Good job handling Adam. Who would have thought you were such a little flirt.

Marnie drew herself up and gazed down her thin, well-shaped nose. I beg your pardon.

Bella waved her off, Don’t get your thong in a wad. It’d be damn uncomfortable.

Sabina giggled, wondering if Bella was trying to distract her from her near death experience.

Let’s get out of here, Bella said. She paused for a moment and tilted her head listening. Sounds like everyone has cleared out. Let’s go. Pull that silver lamé cowl thing up on your head so we don’t get mobbed when we go out.

Sabina complied. She didn’t know if she would ever get used to the fame. It had hit with the suddenness and intensity of a force field. Sometimes she found herself wishing for her former quiet existence. But still nothing could equal the sweet gift of singing, of holding an audience in the palm of her hand as mesmerized by the golden notes as she.

As they exited the building, she grabbed her shawl and designer handbag from her dressing room. She pulled a pair of dark glasses from her handbag, slipped them on, stumbled and took them off.

Bella grabbed her arm, righting her.

Can’t see.

Maybe because it’s nine o’clock at night and not a star visible in the sky, Marnie chimed in. Leave them off, it’s too dark to be recognized out here anyway.

The dim yellow glow from the lamplights cast long shadows on the street and caused Sabina to shiver. Perhaps,  but  the  three  of  us  together  attract  attention—Bella,  blonde  and  beautiful, Maureen, a statuesque redhead, and myself.

As the walk light blinked on, they hustled across the street toward their hotel. Sabina huddled into her shawl, cold from more than the crisp late September air.

I think a drink to calm our nerves would be in order. Your room or the lounge? Marnie asked, her heels clicking against the pavement, while her long legs made short work of crossing the street.

Lounge, the gregarious Bella answered, as they walked through the hotel door and into the elegant lobby. Like a homing pigeon she headed straight for it.

They stopped in the doorway.

Marnie looked around the near-empty dark room. Not many people around.

A baseball game, with the sound turned down, played on the television over the bar. The bartender stole an occasional glance at the TV as he wiped down the long wooden counter with a damp white cloth.

Marnie pointed to a booth in the corner. Sabina and Bella followed her in.

As they slid across the high-backed wooden benches, Marnie got down to it. Any chance that was an accident?

Sabina opened her mouth then snapped it shut as a tired-looking waitress came over to take their orders. She took a swipe at their spotless table with a damp cloth. What will you ladies have?

Before Sabina could request her normal glass of red wine, Bella answered, Three strawberry margaritas, jumbo.

Sabina opened her mouth to correct her but the waitress was already gone.

Marnie plunked her elbows on the table and propped her chin on her fists. She looked at Sabina. Bella’s very bossy.

Those that have more tact would say I’m a natural leader, Bella countered. She flipped open her compact and checked her perfect features.

Marnie ignored the natural born leader remark and returned to her original subject. If it wasn’t an accident how was it rigged to fall while Sabina was singing?

Bella’s beautiful blue eyes narrowed as she snapped her compact shut. Maybe it was all left to chance like Russian roulette. It would be just the kind of thing that would appeal to that crazy bitch. Maybe it could have fallen tonight, maybe tomorrow night, maybe when no one was under it.

Goose bumps roughened Sabina’s body. She bit down hard to keep her lips from chattering. She really didn’t like to think about what would have happened if Adam hadn’t been there.

The  waitress returned placing the large frosty red drinks on the table and trudged away.

Bella lifted her glass. To the sisterhood.

To the sisterhood, Sabina and Marnie echoed, clicking their glasses together. Her glass halfway to her lips, Bella paused, Where’s your amulet, sugar?

Sabina swallowed, letting the sweet tangy concoction slide down her throat and warm the frozen spot inside her. She licked the light ring of sugar and slush from her lip. It’s in my room. I never wear it when I sing.

Bella nodded her approval. I never wear mine when I paint, gives me an unfair advantage. Is it in your safe?

Nope, I’ve got a replica in my safe. If someone breaks in my room, the safe will be the first place they’ll look.

Bella’s eyes sparkled. Machiavellian. A woman after my own heart.

Shifting her hips on the hard wood bench, Sabina returned to their former subject. If someone was playing a game of chance with that overhead light, they’re a very sick person.

The women looked at each other, each knowing what the others were thinking.

Victoria, Sabina replied, through stiff lips, her face frozen.

Looks like it’s possible.  Bella’s snapping eyes belied her composure. She leaned forward, her breasts pushing against the crimson red V of her dress. Now the next interesting question. What was Adam Morelly doing there at the precise moment that ole chandelier fell?

Feeling the kick of alcohol and a pleasant buzz, Sabina responded. I know the answer to that one. He told me, ‘It appears I’m saving your life’. For a moment, I thought he’d come to hear me sing then realized it was because his uncle owns the club. Her heart sagged along with her chin but she lifted her head and pasted a smile on her face.

The women stared at her.

Bella smiled. Have another drink, shug.

Haven’t finished this one. But I believe I will. We’ve a lot of catching up to do. I only saw you two for a few minutes this afternoon when you got in. I’m surprised Jack and Hank let you come without them. Taking a deep breath, Sabina tried to focus on the here and now. Not the mental picture of lying on the floor with her head caved in.

Marnie, who’d been slouched against the back of the booth, straightened. Let us?

Sabina laughed. You know what I mean. As in, they can’t get along without you.

Someone has to run the ranches. And no way would Bella and I have missed your opening. Just call it a girls’ getaway.

It was good of you. Sabina touched Marnie’s arm. I know you two hate to be parted from your men.

It will be especially hard on Marnie not having anyone to model her slinky little patches of cloth and string she calls underwear for. Bella winked.

Oh yeah? Well at least nobody’s found my underwear in the loft. I’m assuming it’s yours. I wouldn’t be caught dead wearing bordello red.

Not your color, shug, Bella responded