Opal's Wish: Book Four of The Crystal Warriors Series (35 page)

It was too much of an effort to speak so Opal smiled her thanks at the compliment to Sera. And then Magda called her over to take a look at the shot that everyone was oohing and ahhing over.

Opal knew they were all watching, waiting for her reaction. She put on her game face. It was just a photo. One of many. Knowing Tem, the composition would be perfect, Opal would look like a million bucks and the jeans would be showcased to “Buy Me Now!” perfection, Danbur would look smokin’ hot, and the connection between them would be utterly real and believable to outsiders. But it was just a photo. It was a product of faked circumstances, faked emotion, faked connection. Fake. It wasn’t real.

And then she caught her first glimpse of the “money” shot.

Her breath left her body in a dizzying rush and her knees turned to Jell-O, and someone was shoving a chair at her. She collapsed into it. She didn’t register their concerned faces or hear their urgently voiced questions. Because all she could process was a truth that couldn’t be denied. No matter how Danbur had acted before, it was plain as the expression on his face, captured forever in that still frame, that he loved her.

Opal dragged herself up the path to Peter’s house. The walk from the bus stop was hardly worth mentioning but she felt like she’d run a marathon or something. She was completely and utterly wiped. Maybe she’d splurge and buy a little car to use for the commute to Magda’s offices.

Today had centered around another shoot—this one a solo, and even more demanding because there were no Jake and Dominic to buffer her from Tem’s acerbic comments when things didn’t work as well as he’d hoped. She’d worked hard to build rapport with him, and she could now better read the subtext to understand what he wanted from her. But it was harder than she remembered it being all those years ago. Everything was harder when you stuttered and were sleep deprived. She hadn’t suffered this kind of bone-deep exhaustion since Sera had been a newborn.

Thank God tomorrow was a holiday so she could sleep in and—

She puffed a sharp breath through her nose. Right. Who was she trying to kid? Tomorrow was Sera’s birthday. She planned to bake the cake tonight—if she could stay awake. In the morning she would have to decorate it, and do all those other little tasks she’d not had time to tackle, before the guests arrived for the lunchtime party. In its own way, tomorrow would be as stressful as posing for a hyper-critical photographer. And then there was coping with the crushing guilt of asking
Peter
to buy Sera’s birthday gift because Opal hadn’t yet gotten to the mall. It wasn’t like her to be so disorganized.

Peter’s door swung open and her neighbor greeted her with a smile. “I sent Sera and Danbur to the corner store to buy candles,” he said. “So now would be an excellent time for you to wrap Sera’s gift, don’t you think? I think you will be pleased with my choice.”

“I can’t thank you enough for doing this, Peter. I—”

“It was no trouble, my dear. I simply dropped Danbur off at the shelter, and carried on to the mall. There was a pink one in stock so I took the liberty of purchasing it.”

Pink? Sera would love it. “Th-Th-Thank you.”

He ushered her into his bedroom, and indicated the small box on the bed. “Take a look. I asked the assistant to recommend a mobile phone that would be simple enough for a child Sera’s age to use. Sera can take photos with it, and even play music.” He pulled a receipt from his back pocket and handed it to her. “I bought gift wrap, too. It’s in that bag on the bureau, along with some colored tape.”

It was a great feeling to give the receipt a cursory glance and not freak out about the price. Even better was handing over the cash she’d taken out to cover the purchase, and not having to worry about blowing her budget. And sure, a mobile phone was an expensive toy for a little girl, but Sera would be able text her whenever she wanted.

Opal eased open the box, revealing the hot-pink phone. “It’s p-p-perfect—j-j-just what I… w-w-would have b-b-bought for her.” She hugged the old man.

To her surprise he hugged her back fiercely. “There’s a little something I need to show you—after you’ve wrapped Sera’s gift. I’ll be in the kitchen.” He exited the room, leaving her to wrap the gift and stow it in the plain plastic carry-bag he’d left for her. With luck, Sera wouldn’t even notice the bag and she wouldn’t be subjected to a barrage of questions.

Opal made her way into Peter’s kitchen and immediately spotted the “little something” sitting there on the counter. A cake. But not just any cake. An ever-so-slightly lopsided cake with lurid pink frosting and a shaky tracery of white frosting that read
Happy 9
^th
Birthday Sera!
Laid beside it were, yes,
nine
strawberry-shaped candle holders, waiting for the candles Danbur and Sera had been sent to buy.

“I hope you don’t mind.” Peter’s voice behind her made her jump like a startled cat. “I mentioned to Danbur that you would have a lot to do tomorrow morning to get ready for the party, and Sera overheard. Between them, Sera and Danbur decided to bake her birthday cake. I helped them make the sponge cakes this afternoon. They sandwiched them together with cream filling and decorated them. Sera told Danbur it’s his birthday gift to her.”

Peter came up beside Opal and stood, head cocked to one side, staring at the cake. “They did a marvelous job, I think. They made a good team. Danbur was exquisitely patient with her. He would have made a wonderful father.”

Opal’s heart skipped. “W-W-Would h-h-have?”

Peter turned to her. “He has told you of his origins.”

It wasn’t a question. She closed her eyes, wondering how to avoid an awkward conversation about her spacey memories, and what little she could recall of Danbur’s tall stories. She understood it was Danbur’s way of rewriting his past and coping with something traumatic but it still made her uneasy. The past had a way of creeping up on you and biting you on the ass. How would Danbur cope when he had to face the truth about what had happened to him? Would there be someone to help him through it?

Someone who loved him, and cared deeply about what happened to him.

Someone like her.

“I cannot see that far ahead, Opal. All I can do is hope that one day—if he survives with his sanity intact—he will be given a second chance.”

Blood chilled in her veins. Slowly, carefully, she turned to look at Peter. His eyes…. Anguish. Guilt. The weight of ages. The unspeakable weariness of a soul that had witnessed too much grief and sadness. How could he bear it?

“Some days I cannot,” he said, answering her unvoiced question—again. The truth she heard in his words raised the fine hairs on her arms and she chafed them with her palms. Who was he, this man she’d trusted to look after her daughter?
What
was he?

“Alas, it appears I have interfered once too often,” he said, “and certain strictures have now been placed upon me. But I will tell you what little I am permitted to reveal.” His gaze burned into hers. “And if you make an educated guess or two, I cannot be held be held accountable. Speak freely, Opal.”

“You’re not at all what you seem, are you, Peter Stone?” It came as no surprise that her stutter was nowhere in evidence and the words rolled smoothly from her tongue.

“I am the guardian of these stones.” He gestured to the kitchen cabinet behind her, and when she turned, she came face to face with a shelf of crystals.

Strange. She’d been in Peter’s dining and kitchen area before but she didn’t remember ever seeing these. The oh-so-important question she’d been about to ask dissolved. She ventured closer, fascinated by the way the rays of afternoon sun played over the crystals. They almost seemed alive. There were a number of smaller ones scattered about—too many to count—but seven larger crystals caught her eye. She reached out to touch one but Peter grasped her wrist.

“No,” he said. “These are not for you. The one meant for you was bonded to another. It was not intentional on my part, but even so the harm I caused him is immeasurable.”

Her brain jumped to an impossible conclusion. “You’re talking about Danbur, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

Another leap of intuition allowed her to see connections that had previously been veiled. “That wishing crystal you gave Sera—it was Danbur’s crystal.”

“Yes. It is a danburite crystal.”

Danburite.
Danbur
. Hence his unusual name. But fascinating as that information was, she couldn’t allow herself to be distracted. “So Danbur did come out of the crystal.”

“Yes.”

Jesus, Mary and Joseph. She wouldn’t allow herself to even think about how insane that sounded; for a man to come out of a freaking hunk of stone. All she knew, in her heart and her soul, was that it made perfect sense. Danbur’s trauma was a result of being trapped inside a crystal that he was named after.

And there was another thing she knew absolutely. “
You
trapped him in the crystal.”

“Yes.”

God. “Why?”

“That is Danbur’s story to tell, not mine. Suffice it to say, I am not a cruel man and the trap was meant to be temporary. Unfortunately for the men I trapped—and for me—someone far more powerful than me decided to intervene.”

Some of Opal’s unnatural calmness began to crack and nausea bubbled in her belly. “Those big crystals—the ones you didn’t want me to touch. They have men inside them, too.”

“Yes.”

OhGodohGodohGod. “And when Danbur escaped the crystal he—” What was that word Peter had used? “He
bonded
to Sera. But it was supposed to be me. That’s what you’re not allowed to tell me, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

She wrapped her arms about her waist, fighting the desire to sink to the floor and stick her hands over her ears and curl into a fetal position. And then her knees locked and the nausea receded, washed away until all she felt was that unnatural calm again. Her gaze flicked to Peter’s face. Too smooth. Too expressionless. And she knew
he’d
done it—wiped away the sick feeling. Wiped away her concerns, too. He’d manipulated her emotionally and physically.

Just as he’d been doing all along.

And not only her, she realized with a jolt of rage that took her by surprise. So she didn’t give herself time to think it through or ponder the consequences. She clenched her fist and lashed out, clipping him neatly on the jaw.

She knew she’d hit him hard. The white-hot burst of pain in her knuckles was evidence of that, as was the bloom of red flushing his jaw line. But her blow didn’t even rock him on his heels.

“I suppose I deserved that,” he said.

“You think?”

“You pack a mean punch.” To her feral delight, he fingered his jaw.

“Good.” Her heart was thumping now, so loudly she could barely hear herself speak. “I slept with him! I thought….” Oh God. Her belly cramped viciously and she pressed her sore, throbbing fist to her diaphragm. “I thought I was finally ready to trust a man again. I thought I was ready to… to… move on from the past. I thought it was
me
who chose Danbur. But it wasn’t, was it? It was you, manipulating my emotions, making me feel safe with him, making me want him. I’ve known you for five years. Peter. I thought we were friends. How could you do that to me? How could you?”

He must have quit trying to dampen her emotions because her tears overflowed, scalding her cheeks, and her nose was running, and rage and betrayal stormed through her veins in a heated rush that pearled sweat on her brow and nape.

He stood there, watching her cry, watching her wrestle with the desire to hit him again. And it was only when the storm of emotion subsided, leaving her empty and cold and aching that he spoke. “That was all you, Opal. I….” He squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed his palm over his face. And when he opened his eyes again he was just an old man. Weary. Fallible. Human.

“I’ve been a part of your life for only five years but I know what happened you, Opal. And I would never take away your choice to share your body with someone. It would be akin to… to….”

“Rape?”

He flinched at the ugly word, the harshness barbing her tone. “Yes,” he said, softly. “It would be akin to rape. I believe in free will, in the power of choice. It’s what I’ve fought for over and over these past centuries—what I still fight for. Knowing that each and every woman chosen to bond with the men I’ve cursed has a
choice
, is the only reason I can keep doing this.”

He stretched a hand toward her but when she took a hasty step backward, he let it drop back to his side. “You chose him, Opal. It was your choice—only yours. If you can’t bring yourself to believe anything else I’ve told you, then please believe that.”

She nodded, accepting the truth of his words.

“I’m glad you chose him,” Peter said. “He has so little time before the curse takes him again.”

Her stomach pitched and plummeted to her toes. “How long?”

“Two days.”

Too much to process. Too much to cope with. She couldn’t think about what it would do to Sera to lose Danbur—what it would do to her, too. “What happens next?”

“What happens next is that you will go to your house and wait there for the Crystal Warrior to bring your daughter to you.”

The ice-cold voice lanced into Opal’s skull, invaded every corner of her mind, expanded until there was no room for anything else—no fury at Peter’s betrayal, no need to confront Danbur with what she’d learned, no overwhelming desire to protect her daughter from forces that had contrived to bond her with a grown man. And no will of her own, either. “Thank you for organizing Sera’s gift,” she said. “And the cake, too. You’re very kind.”

A hand held out the plastic carry-bag containing the wrapped gift. A tiny corner of her mind noted the hand was far too smooth-skinned and delicate to be Peter’s but the thought died as soon as it was born.

Opal took the bag. “I’ll see you at Sera’s party tomorrow,” she said. And then she turned on her heel and walked out of the kitchen.

As she closed Peter’s front door behind her, she heard that same cold female voice say, “This time you have gone too far, Crystal Guardian, and you must pay for your disobedience.” But it didn’t occur to her to be at all concerned for Peter’s safety. Instead, she wandered into her house and headed straight for her bedroom to hide Sera’s gift.