Spirit Bound (Sea Haven/Sisters of the Heart 2)

He had never opened up to anyone, but if he made the kaleidoscope himself, she would see inside of him--just as he'd seen inside of her when he'd looked into her dark scope. She was giving him this one chance. For her, he knew he would close his eyes and step off the cliff. He held out his hand to her and nodded.

15

"YOU can sit right there in my work chair and I'll lay out bins with beads, charms, wire, glass and crystals for you to choose from. You'll have to start with a mirror system," Judith explained. "This one is five-point and is a standard star pattern. This is one I like to use and it's a six-point. This one here, is a seven-point system. A seven-point system creates a more complex mandala. A mandala is the image created when looking through the mirror system at the cell."

Her studio was soothing to her, a familiar place where she spent hours of happiness, designing scopes and knowing people in other countries, people she didn't know, would look into the world she created and get comfort or joy through her work.

Judith kept an eye on Stefan as she pulled out bins of charms and glass, spreading them out in a haphazard manner, adding the colorful crystals and wires for him to choose from. Stefan carefully examined each mirror system, looking from every angle, studying them as if committing each to memory--and maybe he was.

Stefan was a very intelligent man, there was no doubt in her mind about that, and he'd spent a lifetime reading people and giving them what they wanted to further his own agenda. He might try to choose things he would think she would approve of, but with so many choices, eventually his true nature would be revealed, he wouldn't be able to help himself.

Her heart pounded and she tasted fear in her mouth. She was baiting a tiger and this could go wrong very fast. Her world would come crumbling down if he chose all the wrong things, but she had no real choice. She wanted this man. She wanted to be that woman he lived for, the one he built his life around. She wanted to belong to him. Her element had chosen him, and then her body, long before she'd ever had a chance to think clearly. She was already freefalling, it was up to him whether or not he caught her.

Stefan studied the mirror systems, intrigued by the idea of constructing his own kaleidoscope. Until he'd looked into the one in Judith's dark studio, he hadn't really considered what a kaleidoscope could actually do. Most people thought of them as a child's toy, and he had inadvertently fallen into that category. Even when she'd told him that kaleidoscopes could lower blood pressure and aid women in childbirth or help an autistic person, he still hadn't realized what the colorful instrument could do. When he'd looked into Judith's scope, there in her dark studio, he knew he was seeing into her soul.

He looked over the long table with charms, beads, wire and crystals everywhere and knew whatever choices he made would give Judith that same glimpse into him. Essentially, if he did this, he would be revealing his true self to her. There were thousands of options laid out before him. Those tiny bits of metal and crystal would give Judith every reason to run from him, but he refused to cheat. Either she could love him as he was, broken and twisted like the metal, or they wouldn't stand a chance.

The seven-pointed system appealed to him. He glanced at her as he handed it to her.

Judith nodded. "You're a complex man and I imagine choosing the seven-pointed system means far more to you than just the complexity of it."

"I'm one of seven brothers. Although they separated us, our lives mirrored one another. Are there choices for the outside of the scope?"

"I have wraps for the outside, or you could powder-coat it."

"I would prefer to powder-coat it," he said immediately. He wasn't a fancy man. In fact he wanted it plain and the powder-coating could look like gunpowder . . . "Or . . ." He spotted a scope already made at the end of her table. "What's that?"

The scope sat on a tower made of what looked like stained glass. The scope itself was powder-coated, yet around the edge was that same stained glass look that appealed to him. The glass seemed to shimmer and change color when he looked at it.

"That's called dichroic glass."

"It's fascinating. It changes color when you look at it from a different angle."

"It's made using various metals in micro-thin layers, vaporized using an electron beam in a vacuum chamber. I don't make them myself, but I love the versatility. Some are clear backed and others have a black back."

Judith sipped her tea while she watched him get lost in the artistry of making his own kaleidoscope. She loved teaching classes on making scopes, because no one could be surrounded by the bright colorful objects and not slip into a dream of creativity. Some clients hummed, others were silent, but all smiled while they worked. She always felt joy surrounding her when she taught a class.

Stefan Prakenskii was a serious man with a tragic past. She doubted he saw it that way. His life simply was what it was. He accepted that his parents had been murdered and his brothers ripped away from him. He accepted that he'd been shaped into a killer through rigid disciplined work and punishment, just as he accepted the strange magnetic pull between them.

He was a man who found moments of joy in beautiful things. He found her beautiful, like the art he so admired. The type of work he did--and she didn't want to think too closely about what that was exactly--had hardened him into a watchful, lethal man. He had to need action after living that life for so long, so did that mean she would be a momentary thing for him?

She sighed and instantly she had his attention.

"What is it?"

Even his voice could stroke her skin. She watched his long, capable fingers turn the dichroic glass over and over as the colors shifted and played, all the while feeling the weight of his eyes. He could have been a pianist with fingers like that. He moved his hands so beautifully over her body. His touch was sure, as if he knew instinctively every way to heighten her pleasure until she was blinded by everything else around her--even sheer common sense.

"I'm trying desperately to believe you could give up what you do and lead a quiet life, here, with me." She tried to talk past the sudden lump in her throat. "Chemistry lasts only so long and then there has to be something else, Stefan." Deliberately she used his name to remind herself he wasn't sweet Thomas. He was a man who killed other human beings. She might wish for Jean-Claude to die horribly, but this man actually could do such a thing.

She couldn't pretend that the temptation to use him for such a dark, destructive purpose hadn't crossed her mind, both alarming her and making her feel ashamed.

"What I do isn't living, Judith. I get no pleasure from my work. I'm good at it, but hiding my own identity, even from myself, is no way to live. I know this is where I want to be, here on this farm, living on the edge of the sea surrounded by a beautiful forest. With you."

He looked from her down the long table filled with color. He gestured around the room. "Your home is made for laughter and love, Judith. For the sound of children. The sounds of a man and a woman loving each other. You understand these things as I never will, but I want to share them with you."

"You want children?" She didn't know why that surprised her, but it did. She definitely wanted children. She always had. She wanted them to know all about her Japanese heritage. She wanted to be like her mother, so serene, moving gracefully through her home, making her children feel as though they were the smartest, most loved children in all the world.

He nodded his head slowly. "I would love to see little girls running around with your hair and smile and little boys with my eyes and your hair."

She touched her hair and couldn't help the smile welling up. "You do like my hair."

His smile crept to his eyes. "I won't waste this chance if I get it. I'm having it all."

"I thought you said even if you get rid of Ivanov, that man Sorbacov would send someone else after you."

He nodded. "I won't lie to you, Sorbacov will definitely send another exterminator, but my brother lives here as well. And we'll be prepared. With two of us here, believe me, honey, we'll be

safe enough."

Something in his voice made her shiver. He picked up one of the small pieces of wire, the aqua color attracting him. The metal was soft and without thinking, he began to bend it into softer curves. She watched him work, unable to look away from the intensity on his face. When he focused on her, she got that same rapt attention, yet she knew he was aware of every movement of the house, and especially her presence. She seated herself on the other side of the table and busied herself with the kaleidoscope she was making for Jonas's wife to focus on when she went into labor.

"Look into the cell with the mirror system every now and then," she encouraged, without looking up from where she was working. "And don't give in to temptation and overfill it. The objects have to move freely in the liquid."

She knew every piece he picked up and discarded. She wondered at the collection of wire, charms and crystals he collected in a small area near him. She let him roam the bins and study everything through the mirror system he chose. His facial muscles relaxed and the tension went out of his shoulders. He looked a little less like a caged tiger and more like a contented one stretching the boundaries of his territory.

She tried not to look too often, but it was impossible to resist. He took several inch-lengths of very fine black wire. He wrapped about a dozen or more pieces of the wire at one end and carefully spread the wires out. He seemed very intent on getting the wires exactly the way he wanted them, which meant that particular piece meant something to him.

At first glance the tools he collected from the silver charm bin appeared to be farm tools, but she realized each item had a dual purpose. Like the shifting colors in the dichroic glass, the implements he chose had multiple uses. Each had been used as lethal weapons to defend farmers from warlords in times past as well as for working the land.

Judith disarmed the security system she considered absolutely useless anyway and opened the French doors leading to the gardens to allow the fresh ocean air into the room. She was restless and weary of the entire experiment. She almost didn't want to see what he'd constructed, now that the scope was near completion. The night air was crisp. She could hear the bark of the sea lions as they called to one another. The more she paced around the room, the more she was aware of his stillness--his silence. He lived in silence. He was coiled and ready to strike even as he appeared so focused on his work.

He worked in silence for more than an hour, methodical in his approach to finding just the right objects for his cell. He didn't seem to be worried about pleasing her, never once looking to her for approval--or for help. He seemed determined to show her who he really was and damn the consequences.

She snuck another peek. He appeared to be gluing teardrop beads filled with red liquid onto a white snowflake charm. His actions were sure, precise, no hesitation at all. She didn't have to remind him to view the contents of his dry cell through the mirror system. Each time he added something to his cell, he was careful to look at it through the seven-point system.

Her stomach fluttered and she pressed her hand hard to it to keep the somersaulting down. It was difficult to be in the same room with him and not want to go over to him and kiss his neck as he bent his head close to his work.

He suddenly looked up at her, his eyes meeting hers with dark lust. Her stomach did a fast roll and her body dampened with liquid heat. He smiled at her.

"Me too."

Her mouth went dry. Her palm itched. She was desperate for him and it didn't help that they had made wild, intoxicating love right here on her table.

"We're using the bed next time."

He made it a statement of fact, certain there would be a next time. Oh, God, she wanted there to be a next time. Please let there be a next time. She felt the brush of his gaze like fingertips stroking her skin. Her nipples hardened beneath her thin tee. She should have put on something else.

"We'll make it, angel," he said. "Have faith."

Funny that he would be the one to tell her to have faith.

He smiled at her. "You're my personal angel, fallen from the sky, and I've clipped your wings, honey. I'm keeping them safe, right here. Now tell me how to seal this."

She wasn't certain what he meant by clipping her wings, but she wanted the suspense over and yet she didn't want to actually know if it was going to turn out wrong.

"I like what I have." Again he spoke with absolute finality, which told her a lot about him. Once he made up his mind, he was certain of his decisions and he acted on them.

"Seal the lid on with the acrylic cement," Judith directed. "When you're finished, there's a tiny, predrilled hole in the side of the cell. Pump in the heavy mineral oil with the needle." She indicated where. "Use the tiny set screw there, to close the hole after you've filled the cell with the oil."

Judith watched him work, her heart accelerating. She would have to look at his work soon and she was afraid of what she might see. She crossed to stand in front of the French doors, staring out at her garden. The plants always soothed her. She loved the many colored maples, shaping them into draping, graceful limbs hanging above the narrow ribbon of water running over rocks creating a small waterfall to feed the large koi pond on one end. A narrow bridge crossed the deepest section of water. Her favorite reading spot was located under one of the larger maple trees. Part of her wished she were out there now, in the cool night, sitting beside her koi pond with the wind on her face.

"Come look," he invited.

Her heart leapt. Her eyes met his and she braced herself. Closed her eyes. Took a deep breath. There would be no turning back once she looked into his kaleidoscope. She would know him, know his true nature. And she'd probably be the only person in the world who would.

She took the scope carefully into her hands and turned it around, glancing at him once before lifting it to her eye. Light spilled through the cell, illuminating the images, so that the seven-point system burst into life like a new constellation. Droplets of blood fell against a white snow, the movement flowing and graceful, as if she could see that long ago murder that had begun Stefan's life.

The scene inside the cell was mesmerizing, almost hypnotic and very intense, the dichroic glass shifting colors, dark and light, bloodred and black changing to lighter colors, just as Stefan shifted from skin to new skin, shedding the old and donning a new one to complete each assignment. Darkness settled and color burst through the darkness bringing crystal stars glittering through the various weapons and farm implements.

Through the stream of weapons came unexpected things, long black hair falling like soft silk, tiny seashells tumbling through blue-green waves, an effect created by the dichroic glass the exact color of his eyes, an artist's color palette, two gold rings locked together, a small pewter charm with joy on one side and the Japanese glyph on the other. A kimono lying amid a field of white star flowers.

Judith's heart clenched. Darkness streaked through the cell as she slowly turned it, shadows playing on the edges of the stars while blood drops on the snow fell like rain. This was Stefan's world of hope, of pain and artistry. He was both a killer and a lover. He was a man of principle, with a hard code and tremendous discipline. Everything in his cell was about duality. He had two sides and the fall of silky hair, the shells, the farm tools, the double rings, even the Japanese symbols were his looking toward a future.

This man was capable of love, of changing the direction of his life. And his need centered on one woman--the only woman. Her initials were in that scope. J.H. She saw them there along with the S.P. It was significant to her that he hadn't put a T. V. for Thomas Vincent. For her--with her--he was giving his true self. He hadn't tried to hide from her. He'd given her his past, his present and his hope for a future.

Tears blurred her eyes. Everything about the scope appealed to her. It was entirely masculine and without show or embellishment, much like Stefan. It was a quiet declaration, a statement of intent and like his quiet decisions, she felt like she already knew him, knew that he would never turn back from his res

olution. For him, it was written in stone, just as it was written here, in this tremendous gift he had given her.

It must have been difficult for him to choose to be so vulnerable. He had to know that she would see his implacable nature. The warrior in him that was so deeply ingrained that it was impossible to ever stamp out. That edge of hardness she would come up against at times. The silky flow of midnight black hair against that terrible fall of snow and blood sent a spiral of heat curling through her. It was soft and sensuous and very unexpected--a statement of healing love. Her Stefan was every bit the artist as he was the assassin.

And then the last tumble brought a black pitchfork with the set of golden wings covering it. His fallen angel with clipped wings. His. He'd claimed her for his own, and she saw clearly he meant it. She was his salvation, his joy, his reason. The devil had claimed his angel.

Outside she could hear the soft wind fluttering through the leaves of her Japanese garden and inside, she could hear her own heart beating. She moistened her lips, carefully making certain that she had turned the cell enough times that she had managed to see everything. Every scene would always be different, but each one would always be a glimpse into Stefan's soul. She could barely find the strength to lower the scope when she found it so enthralling. Her hands were shaking, her body trembling. He was claiming her with every turn of the kaleidoscope and God help her, everything in her responded to his call.

She moistened her lips. Without thinking she clutched the scope to her heart, her gaze meeting his. "This is an incredible gift. Thank you."

"Give yourself to me."

Her heart did that funny little flippy thing inside her chest as her stomach did a slow roll. His voice was low, so quiet it was merely a thread of sound, but there was no denying he was making a statement. A demand. She'd challenged him and he'd more than accepted it. Stefan hadn't tried to soften his true nature, it was there in the cell he'd made, the weapons, including a small garrote he'd twisted from metal.

"I just gave myself to you, Judith. I handed over whatever was left of Stefan Prakenskii. Give yourself to me."