Immortal Surrender (16 page)

The faint sound of a cat’s meow brought Noelle’s trajectory toward the exit to an abrupt halt. Her hand stretched toward the waiting doorknob, she slowly looked toward the closed pair of sliding panel doors on the opposite wall. “Scat Cat?”

Mrrf. Mrrf.

The inability to produce a full
meow
could come from only her cat. All thoughts of fleeing the temple fled, and Noelle marched over to the closed doors. She eased one cherry-stained panel into the wall, far enough that he could slip through. Like a wisp of smoke, he sauntered into the front room, then wound himself around and between her feet.

“Scat Cat,” she whispered. The feline had always made coming home after a long day of work a delight. Yet never before had she felt so incredibly glad to see her fat, lazy, and often opinionated pet. She bent down, picked him up, and buried her nose in his thick fur.

His overly enthusiastic motor returned her affection.

With a heavy exhale that stirred his silky coat, she lifted her face. “What are we going to do, fella?”

He caught the finger she rubbed under his chin with both forepaws. Sharp claws urged her hand toward his mouth where he could contentedly lick her fingers.

A glint of silver from the corner of her eye brought her attention back to the glass-topped coffee table positioned in the center of the room. Her eyes widened. Situated in the middle of a carved inlay sat a distinctive ceramic bowl. A Beaker Gabriel had presented to her in the middle of summer. She’d aged the artifact as Middle Bronze Age. Other particles identified its origin as British, specifically part of the early settlement near Thanet. The Beaker Period.

What in the world was that thing doing here? Gabriel had said he was consigning it to a museum.

Scat Cat tucked in her arms, she moved closer. The same cracked edges, the same unique pattern of symbols along the jagged rim. The same damn piece.

Frowning, she exchanged her cat for the aged artifact and held it beneath the light. No doubt about it, no matter how she tried to search for a difference that would mark the object as a replica, she held the artifact that had been the highlight of her career. The piece that had established her lab as the premier experts with small quantities and accelerator mass spectrometry.

Unease shifted around in her belly as she looked to the glass-front bookcase. Her heart slowed to a heavy
thump-thump
as more objects she’d seen in her lab looked back from their places beneath a soft filtered light. A Grecian pot depicting Dionysus, a Mongolian helmet from the Yuan dynasty, a four-inch solid gold Set figurine from early Egypt—one by one, she recognized the familiar treasures.

She turned around, slowly taking in the rest of the room. Amid a scattering of wall hangings that shared the same age and value of the things on the shelves, comfortable furnishings lavished the room. The sofa was simple in color, a soft tan hue. Ebony accent pillows filled the corners and matched the two plush end chairs. Hardwood lay beneath her feet, adorned with a thick white rug. Comforts that matched her decorating style and mirrored her living room in D.C.

But how? Clearly Gabriel had a hand in decorating this room, but she’d never once invited him to her apartment. How in the world could he possibly know what she’d like? Seth maybe? Had to be. Yet that too spurred more questions—was Seth part of this? Had their run-in on the road been part of some plan Gabriel designed? Surely not. Seth wouldn’t set her up like that. He’d know she would fire him in a heartbeat if he did, and his position as her assistant meant too much to his career. He wouldn’t take that kind of risk. Not if he ever intended to work in their field again.

With Scat Cat at her heels, she wandered through the pocket doors into her evidential bedroom. Similar to her room at home, this one followed the same pattern of simplicity. A four-poster bed in cherry matched the dresser and large vanity. Though the furnishings bore carvings, the patterns were straight lines, neat designs that didn’t detract or stand out ostentatiously. An overstuffed mattress was covered with a heavy down comforter, as was the bed she’d slept in the last ten years. The only difference between the two rooms—the color patterns. Where her apartment’s bedroom sported muted blue and off-white, this room was a rich teal and deep burgundy. Not feminine. Not masculine. Elegant all the same.

Curiosity consumed her. She traipsed to the adjoining bathroom and flipped on the light, then drew back with a soft gasp. A large tub, easily able to accommodate three of her, took up the entire far corner. Veins of muted gold weaving through the marble matched the polished brass fixtures. And the same dark cherry wood stood out against an eggshell backdrop. As if someone had plucked a picture straight out of her imagination.

A shiver rolled down her spine. Someone must have overheard her talking at some point. Nothing else could explain how the very bathroom she’d seen in the one house she’d considered buying—and the sole reason she’d considered the house—now stretched out before her.

Feeling suddenly as if a pair of unseen eyes watched, she picked up her pet. His purr served to soothe the way her nerves stood on end. The feel of his soft coat beneath her roaming fingers eased the
trip-trip
of her heart.

She backed out of the bathroom and swallowed hard. “We gotta get out of here, Scat Cat,” she murmured. “Before we can’t.”

No way would she spend another minute in this eerie place. And Gabriel San Lucee would never again set foot in her laboratory.

Determined to make her escape while Farran was occupied, she hurried to the door. Halfway across the room, she froze against the hollow echo of a knock.

CHAPTER 14

Noelle took a deep breath and lifted her chin. If Farran had returned already, she didn’t dare give any sign she intended to escape a second time. She had no doubt he’d make good on his promise to turn her into a prisoner. If he bound her, or locked her away somewhere down in that maze of tunnels, she’d never get the chance again. No, she’d be better served by playing his game. Going along with things until he gave her a few minutes alone again. All she had to do tonight was lock herself in that enormous bedroom and cooperate a little while longer.

Steeling herself against inevitable confrontation, she trained her expression into what she hoped was complacency and approached the door. She half expected that when she opened it a fraction, he would barrel through. When he didn’t, she widened it enough to stick her head outside.

Anne stood on the threshold, a hesitant smile on her porcelain face. “Noelle, I’m sorry to disturb you. But while the men are away, I’d like to talk to you.”

Noelle cocked an eyebrow. While the men were away? Could that mean Anne only pretended at the same game? As the memory of how Anne had exchanged affectionate looks with Merrick rose, Noelle’s brow furrowed. Surely that couldn’t be faked. Then again, maybe it could be. Maybe pretending just came naturally to some women. She could attest to that—couldn’t she?

Noelle stepped back, allowing Anne entrance. “I’m not sure there’s much to say, but come in.”

“Thank you.” Anne’s smile widened as she stepped into the room.

“Have a seat, I guess.”

Holding Scat Cat close to her chest, Noelle followed Anne to the sofa. To her shame, the redhead carried herself with grace Noelle could only dream of. Although they shared the same short stature, Noelle felt somehow smaller. More insignificant. Almost as if Anne’s very presence commanded a level of respect Noelle couldn’t quite define.

A feeling that only added to the particles of ice that clung to her veins. She didn’t know this woman. She wasn’t a head of state or some notable figurehead in the scientific community. There was no reason Noelle should treat Anne any differently than any other stranger.

She pushed her discomfort aside and took a seat on the opposite end of the couch. “How can I help you?”

Auburn eyebrows pulled tight and creases cut into Anne’s smooth forehead. She considered Noelle for several silent seconds before she tried her smile again. It fell short, quivered at the corners of her mouth. “You don’t look pleased to be here.”

Understatement of the year. Noelle bit back a burst of laughter, opting for a shake of her head. “I have work waiting on me. Archaeologists I promised answers. The Egyptian Supreme Council of Antiquities is waiting on results. The curator of—” Noelle stopped, before her thoughts ran away with her tongue. She licked her lips and folded her hands in her lap. “No. I’m not happy to be here at all.”

She waited for Anne’s disapproving frown. Anticipated a lecture. When Anne’s smile returned, brighter than before, Noelle drew back in surprise.

Anne let out a soft, musical laugh. “I wasn’t very fond of it either.”

“No?” A spark of hope lit. If Anne sympathized, maybe she could find an ally who would talk some sense into Farran.

“Not at all. But I didn’t come here knowing the things Farran’s told you.” She paused to regard Noelle with a measured stare. “Farran
did
tell you, right?”

“You mean that nonsense about Templar knights and seraphs and predestined fates?”

The frown Noelle had been expecting registered behind Anne’s bright blue eyes. It lasted only seconds, however, before she quickly covered it with a blank expression. Her voice assumed a faraway quality as she stared at the cabinet of antiquities. “I didn’t understand why Gabriel chose me first until this moment.”

“What?” Noelle cringed at the harshness in her question, and gave herself a sharp mental kick. Snapping at Anne wouldn’t win her any friends. “I’m sorry. What do you mean?”

“I used to teach college. The prophecy names me the teacher, and you the blind. I understand now.” Anne looked back at her with a wistful smile. “You don’t know anything, do you?”

It took every bit of Noelle’s concentration to keep her tongue in line and not return the insult. She pushed her cat out of her lap and clenched her hands together. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, that’s for sure.”

“You really don’t believe in a higher power, do you?”

At that, Noelle’s laugh slipped free. She cut it off short and cleared her voice. “You mean some mystical being who controls our lives like we’re puppets on strings? Or do you mean the higher power who randomly chooses who will live and who will die? Or, are you referring to the social dependence on the need to believe in order to give meaning to life?”

Anne chuckled. “I guess that pretty much answers everything.” She stood and dusted her hands on her ankle-length skirt. Clasping them behind her back, she wandered to the glass-encased artifacts. “You’ll learn. It’s inevitable. Please trust me, Noelle. It’s uncomfortable now, and nothing makes sense. But Farran will teach you if you let him. You’ll realize this isn’t such a terrible place.” She looked over her shoulder to add, “In fact, it’s really pretty wonderful.”

“Right. As wonderful as a trip down a rabbit hole. You’ve even murdered time.” The sarcastic jibe slipped free before Noelle could stop it. Eyes wide, she covered her mouth with her hand.
Please, please, please don’t let her get that.

Laughter rippled through the room, hearty and genuine. Anne’s blue eyes danced with merriment as she turned around. “I suppose it would feel a bit like that. I’d never quite thought of it that way. Farran must love your wit.”

In the wake of Anne’s amusement, Noelle’s apprehensions filtered away, and she began to relax. This was a woman who understood her wit
and
her intellect. Not to mention she didn’t take offense at her tendency for bluntness. Outside this crazy scheme, they might have been close friends.

The opportunity to express the full weight of her frustrations was too great to let slip by. She grabbed at it like a life raft and let out a snort. “Farran could give the Queen of Hearts a run for her money.”

Anne’s shoulders slumped, and her expression twisted with sorrow. She returned to the couch and sat down on the edge of the cushions. “Don’t be hard on him, Noelle. He’s a good man. Aside from Merrick, I know no one more loyal. He’ll take care of you, if you’re patient with him. His secrets are his to share, but I know his past. What he must overcome…” She trailed away on a sad shake of her head. “In time you’ll understand that as well.”

The uncomfortable twist in Noelle’s gut returned with a vengeance. Her stomach knotted down so tight she couldn’t breathe. A spark of irritation ignited at the discomfort, and she shifted in her seat to keep her annoyance at bay. She didn’t care what Farran had gone through. She refused to sympathize with him. Whatever had happened in his past didn’t concern her, and she wasn’t about to let the insinuation he suffered emotional scars weasel under her skin.

“Let me see your hand.” Anne reached between them, her fingers outstretched. “I see things by touch. Maybe I can tell you something that will make this easier.”

Noelle tucked her hand between her thighs. “I don’t think that’s necessary. Anne, you seem like a smart woman. I don’t really know how you let them convince you into this cult, but I don’t plan on being a part of it. I’m not staying.”

“You don’t have a choice.” Anne set her hand on Noelle’s knee. She closed her eyes and tipped her head to the side as if she listened for voices. Her brows puckered, relaxed, then furrowed deeply. Then she snapped her eyes open and withdrew, her features suddenly pale. With a toss of her long red hair, she leaned back against the throw pillow.

“No wonder you have so much to learn. You’re a new soul.”

Exasperation gripped Noelle and she snapped, “A what?”

“There are old souls who have been on this earth before, and new souls. I’ve only met one other completely new soul. When I did, I didn’t know what I was seeing, and I asked my mentor. I see wisps when I look for your past.” Her mouth pinched in thought, and she fell silent. After several expansive seconds, she explained, “It’s hard to describe. You’ve seen pictures of space and the stringy particles of matter up there?”

Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, Noelle nodded.