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  For Josh, who feels so deeply and has enriched my life with his presence,

  much love always

  CONTENTS

  Title Page

  Copyright Notice

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Acknowledgments

  Tor Books by Debra Mullins

  About the Author

  Copyright

  PROLOGUE

  Faith Karaluros watched the minivan in the distance, skis and a snowboard fastened to the rack on top, as the vehicle wound its way along the mountain highway. A chill swept over her, and it had nothing to do with the dusting of snow on the frozen ground around them. So normal. Not what she’d imagined the enemy to look like.

  “They’re going skiing,” she said.

  Michael glanced over at her. Even in the shadows of the leafless trees where they hid, her husband’s green eyes gleamed, always so startling against his sun-kissed, angular features. “That’s what they want you to think. It’s a great cover.”

  “Are you sure they’re the ones? I mean, that van looks like it belongs to a soccer mom.”

  “Like I said, a great cover.” He stroked her cheek with one finger. “Our intelligence says these are high-ranking officials, Faith. They have the info we need, and we have to detain them.”

  Her nerves calmed a bit, and she nodded, breaking from his comforting touch and turning her gaze back to the approaching van. She pushed aside any lingering doubts. This was her first mission, and he had much more field experience than she did. She must come off like a total rookie. Just first-time jitters, nothing to worry about.

  She shook her head. She knew how dedicated he was to the cause. Even before their marriage two years ago, he’d been urging her to come with him into the field. This time, she’d finally agreed. She wanted to share every part of his life, not just those weeks when he wasn’t on a mission.

  “Be ready,” he said, and closed his eyes.

  Slowly she stripped off her gloves. Despite the nip of winter in the air, her hands weren’t cold. No, they were hot and getting hotter, warmed by both Michael’s rising energy and the tattoos spidering down her fingers and past her wrists, throbbing like twin heartbeats. Her energy and Michael’s linked and blended as they had for years. The familiarity, like a cozy fire on a snowy night, calmed her. She shoved the gloves in her pocket, along with her misgivings. If she got in over her head, Michael would take care of her. He always did.

  “When they get closer, push those rocks down into the road.” He indicated a bunch of boulders perched awkwardly on the mountain opposite them. They sat in a teetering pile, like a child’s blocks haphazardly stacked. Strange and beautiful formations like it peppered all the deserts of the Southwest. Normally the rocks would stay exactly like that, just one more oddity on a remote New Mexico highway.

  Unless something—or someone—pushed them. She blew out a long, slow breath.

  “Showtime, babe.” Michael flashed her that crooked smile she had always thought so charming. And though her heart still skipped a beat, for some reason his bared teeth didn’t seem quite so cute this time.

  Were they doing the right thing?

  “I don’t know about this,” she whispered, then immediately wished the words back.

  “Hey.” He captured her gaze with his. “You know it has to be done. They’re Seers, Faith. Their kind tried to take all the power of our homeland and enslave the rest of us. They destroyed Atlantis doing it.”

  “I know.” How many times had she heard the story? “But that was our ancestors. Thousands of years ago.”

  His face settled into a grim mask. “They’re still a danger.” When she said nothing, he smiled again, though this time it seemed forced. “Look, we’re doing this to protect ourselves, to protect our children. We’re just going to take them back to camp to find out what they know.” He reached out a hand to tweak her chin. “Don’t chicken out on me now, babe. You can do this. Trust your training.”

  “All right.” She sucked in a breath and let it out slowly, closing her eyes and opening to the energy around her. She was just going to block the road. Michael wasn’t a zealot like some of the others. No one would get hurt.

  She would make sure of it.

  She reached for the power that simmered all around them, housed in the sturdy protection of stone and earth. She was a Stone Singer, able to channel and utilize the energy stored in any kind of rock, everything from gemstones to the mountains around them to the Earth’s core. The power rose at her command, swelling and gathering. A hum erupted from her throat, a song unknown and unwritten, yet tuned perfectly to the vibrations of the forces rising around them. Her tattoos burned and throbbed with her heartbeat as she focused on the rocks across the way.

  The power flowed easily between her hands. She had to time this perfectly. She opened her eyes and watched the van come closer; she didn’t want to crush it.

  A dog stuck its head out the window, tongue hanging out the side of its mouth. Her lips curved. Didn’t want to crush him, either.

  Then a second head poked through the window. A child. A little boy who laughed as the dog licked his face, then tugged the animal’s collar to pull him back inside. Now she could see the flicker of a movie running on a DVD player, the outline of a car seat. There were children in the van.

  She hesitated. The flow faltered between her hands.

  What are you doing? Michael’s mental voice snapped through her mind.

  There are children down there.

  Seer spawn. So? You know what we have to do.

  “Put children in danger?” She shook her head. “I’m sorry, Michael. I’ll never be ready for that.”

  “The Elders are counting on us. You’ve been training for this.” He said the words with hard deliberation.

  “Training, yes. But not for this.” She held up her hands. “I don’t want to take the chance of hurting those children. I don’t care who their parents are.”

  “Then I have no choice.”

  Earth energy roared forth, fed like a flame fueled by gallons of gasoline, out of her control, out of her hands. Suddenly Michael’s essence was in her, part of her, taking the reins of her power from her. She struggled against his mental invasion. Michael was an Echo, a Channeler whose talent was to augment the gifts of others. Always before, he had guided her abilities. Enhanced them. Supported her as she learned how to handle them. But now he was taking it a step further. Now he was stealing her power from her, taking control of it, leaving her helpless to watch any destruction he cared to wreak with it.

  And through their joined minds, she saw the truth of his intentions. Her stomach lurched. He’d never planned to take these Seers prisoner; he had a
lways intended to assassinate them. Wipe them from the Earth like a scourge.

  Cold crept through her. Who was this man? Not the husband who’d loved her since they were teenagers. Not the gentle teacher who’d coaxed her into confidence in her abilities. She did not know this man.

  His obsession ate at him like acid. After all the times they’d linked, how had he managed to hide this from her?

  Never mind how. Just the fact that he had hidden it at all spoke volumes.

  She couldn’t breathe. A heaviness weighed on her chest, squeezing her breath from her lungs. A gaping hole tore open inside her, shattering her heart and sucking away the gentle flower of love she’d nurtured all these years.

  He truly believed these people evil, truly thought in the depths of his warped conscience that their ancestors were responsible for taking something from him, from all Channelers and Warriors of Atlantean heritage. Truly believed they deserved to be annihilated.

  And he expected her to stand there and watch him do it. Be the docile, obedient student she had always been, while he demonstrated the carnage her abilities could bring. Marrying her, training her—it had all been part of his mission.

  Her tattoos seared like hot coals. All Stone Singers had tattoos made from ink derived from minerals. It linked them to the Earth, made them stronger Channelers. She glanced at Michael’s hands, ungloved and unmarked. He was an Echo. He had no power of his own; he was forced to direct the power of others. And right now, she was letting him steal hers to commit murder.

  She gathered the torn and throbbing remnants of her heart and encased it in diamond-hard stone. Any tenderness, any sorrow, any regret, got entombed behind the impenetrable walls of her mental fortress. Michael wouldn’t hesitate to pounce on the slightest weakness. She knew that now, just as she knew she had a battle before her.

  She hummed. Immediately the stream of energy flickered. He scowled and glanced at her. She hummed again, listening to the song born within her, releasing it into the air. Summon the energy back. Control it. Don’t let him win.

  The energy flickered again.

  Stop!

  His mental bellow rattled her nerve endings, but she would not relent. She kept singing the song, and the Earth listened as she slowly coaxed the power out of his hands and into hers. He fought her, and the stream jerked and flared and nearly came apart more than once.

  The van below passed by safely, the teetering rocks solid on their perch.

  Michael whirled on her. “Look what you’ve done!”

  She struggled to hold her power in check. He’d amped it to a level she’d never experienced before. “I’m no killer.”

  Hands fisted, he stepped forward. “So much power at your command, and you refuse to use it.”

  She stepped back. “Maybe we just disagree on how I should use it.”

  “You’re a Stone Singer. You don’t get to choose.”

  He jerked at the energy again, but she held it fast.

  “I can’t let you kill those people.”

  He smiled, his voice softening, but the rage still simmered beneath the coaxing tone she’d heard so many times before. “Babe, I told you—”

  “You lied.” She fisted her pulsing hands as his eyes narrowed. “When you linked with me, I could read your thoughts, Michael. Usually you’re more careful, but not this time. I know exactly what you were trying to do. And don’t call me babe.”

  He stepped closer, and she retreated. She didn’t like that light in his eyes, and he’d masked his thoughts.

  She masked her own. She knew she’d have to leave him. She couldn’t stay with him, not now. Not when she knew what he truly was.

  But first she had to get to safety.

  She turned her back on him and started down the path, flexing her fingers to keep the energy close, just in case. Her legs trembled, but she forced them to move forward.

  “I didn’t say you could leave.” He grabbed her by the arm and spun her around to face him, eyes burning with unmasked fury. “What makes you think you’re in charge here? You have no idea how to use your power. You’re nothing without me. You’re like a kid with training wheels.”

  “The training wheels have to come off sometime.” She jerked at her arm, but his grip only tightened.

  “Not until I say so.” He leaned closer. “Babe.”

  “I’m leaving, Michael.” She jerked at her arm again, but he hauled her closer.

  “Oh, yeah? Go ahead and try it.” He leaned in, his scent familiar, his demeanor a stranger. “They say sex amps our powers, but that never happened with us. And I finally figured out why.” He caressed the bare fingers of her left hand. “Your wedding ring. You never wear it when you work energy.”

  He knew. Still, she played it off. “Any other stone is a distraction and might disrupt the flow. You know that.”

  “Nice try. The wedding ring’s a blocker, isn’t it? To keep you safe from other people’s powers. All the times we’ve made love and never once did our powers merge. Not. Once.”

  “Michael, we can talk about this at home.” She tugged at her hand, but he held it fast.

  “And I can’t help but think about where you got that ring, who made it for you. My dad.” He shook his head. “The two of you felt you needed some sort of protection from me. From me!”

  The edge in his voice warned her he was losing control. She couldn’t predict what he’d do next. But she wasn’t playing his game anymore. “Yes, your father made it to my specifications, and I sang the energy into it.”

  He reared back, astonished enough to let her go. “You admit it?”

  “Your father told me how your mother died. It was just a precaution.” At the time she’d thought Ben had been overreacting. Now she silently thanked her father-in-law for his foresight.

  “My mother? She died in childbirth.”

  “Yes, she did.”

  “What’s that got to do with—”

  “She burned to death,” Faith said. “Burst into flames. They told your father that the strain of the birth must have activated your powers—”

  “Which amped up hers. Wow.” A slow smile crept across his face.

  She recoiled. “Michael, your mother died a horrible death!”

  “I did that, and I was just a baby.” His grin widened.

  She shouldn’t have told him. He seemed too well pleased with this news that would have horrified a normal person.

  “I’m all grown up now,” he whispered, snagging her wrist before she could dart away. And slammed into her mind with the full force of his gift.

  She screamed. He seared through her mental defenses—defenses he had taught her—as if they were tissue paper, boring into her mind like a white-hot laser. She yanked at her wrist, tried to avoid his relentless invasion, turned away as far as she could, straining to get free. He grabbed her long hair and jerked her face around to kiss her, plunging his tongue into her mouth with a force she’d never experienced at his hands. The physical, sexual contact flared the power between them, his ability slicing its way to the core of hers with the precision of a scalpel.

  His lust for domination, to be respected, to be feared—it all polluted her like the sludge of a strip mine. He would stop at nothing to get what he so desperately craved.

  She could not let him win.

  She lifted her hands, her tattoos throbbing and burning with the molten power of the planet’s core, and grabbed his head, the song vibrating in her throat a high-pitched, keening wail. She opened up the channel full-on and let the Earth speak.

  He screamed and reared back, his eyes wide, but her hands glowed white-hot, and he could not break away. For her, it all seemed to happen at a distance. Some part of her, the spark that made her who she was, stood apart, her emotions sealed within the protection of earth and rock. Her heart felt like a hunk of ice in her chest, the confusion of emotion removed, the dispassionate power of the Earth taking over as she let the energy flow through her and into him, doing what must be done. Distantl
y she could feel him fighting to free himself, but the sheer strength of the force flowing through her held him in unbreakable manacles. His eyes glowed like hot emeralds, his body stiffening as she ripped through the channel he had opened and tore back what he had stolen.

  He screamed. The shriek echoed off the mountains around them, and she released him, her song dying in her throat as his body crumpled to the ground.

  She stood staring, her limbs trembling, as the power ebbed back through her, settling like a calm sea where moments before an ocean had raged. The dam holding back her emotions burst, and she choked on a sob, her knees giving way as she sank down beside Michael. Her husband. Her first love. She pressed shaking fingers to his neck, but she already knew, could tell by his staring eyes. He was dead.

  She was a killer after all.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Old Town Albuquerque, New Mexico

  Three years later

  The bear figurine glowed in the rosy light of the setting sun streaming through the window. Faith set down the soft black pouch in which the gift had arrived, unable to take her gaze from the polished stone in her hand. Lovingly carved of caramel-colored travertine with little turquoise eyes, the fetish warmed in her palm, sharing both her body’s heat and its energy. Like a whisper, the carving’s song trickled into her mind, soothing and protective.

  Her eyes stung with tears, and she closed her fingers around the stone figure as she absorbed the love and caring infused in the stone by its maker. Ben Wakete still worried about her, had made this to protect her, and she couldn’t stop the curve of her lips. A harmony rose in her throat, a counter to the sweet song of the stone.

  “Faith, are you still back there?”

  Lucita’s raspy voice jerked her back to her surroundings. Sucking in a shaky breath, she blinked and looked around. She was in the rear room of the shop, unpacking the newest delivery of handmade jewelry and crafts from the pueblo. Her father-in-law, Ben, had brought the box himself, smiling that mysterious smile of his and reminding her of their dinner date as he’d slipped the pouch into her hand and disappeared.