was the helpless one, unable to do anything to rescue his wife or daughter.
“She’s not dead, Morgan,” Jake said from the doorway, beckoning her into the kitchen so they could talk away from David. “There’s no body and no demand yet, but no doubt it will come. They clearly want to use your sister as a bargaining chip for your stone and perhaps ours as well, so for now, they’ll keep Faye and Gemma alive because they want all the stones.”
Morgan sat down at the kitchen table, head in her hands. She was suddenly overwhelmed as the situation seemed out of her control. She should have been there and it was Jake who had stopped her. She looked straight up at him, her voice rising in anger.
“Who are these people anyway? You’ve told me about the stones but who are this group who are murdering and kidnapping to collect them in one place? You know, I’d happily trade my stone for their lives. You don’t even need to be involved.”
Jake shook his head.
“You don’t understand Morgan. This thing is bigger than just you and Faye now. You saw the paper from India and the potential of the stones. We can’t allow them to be gathered together, especially with the Resurgam comet approaching.”
“People will say anything. Varanasi could have been mass hysteria, you know that.”
“But what if it wasn’t? What if the stories of power and the comet event are true? Imagine the force of the stones demonstrated in a digital age, the phenomenal ability the holder would have to make people follow him, maybe even to start a holy war. ARKANE’s job is to shield the world from such events, we hold the supernatural secrets that the world isn’t ready to see yet. We can protect you and we can find Faye and Gemma, just give us some time.”
Morgan laughed then, a bark of indignation.
“So much for your all powerful organization, Jake. You couldn’t even protect one woman and a child in an Oxford village. This group know our names, they are informed about you but you don’t know anything. I’m doing this alone. I don’t need you. I’ll take your stone with mine and I’ll get my sister back.”
Morgan stood up and strode out of the kitchen, running upstairs to gather her thoughts. She pushed open the door to Faye and David’s room. Like her, Faye always wore the stone around her neck so it would have been on her at the time they attacked. The bedclothes were rumpled. There was a thick romance novel on the side cabinet by the bed, next to a well thumbed Bible. Morgan went to the antique dressing table and felt around the back of the pine framed oval mirror. This had been their agreed upon hiding place if anything bad ever happened. Faye had laughed when Morgan had suggested it over a year ago. She had said there was no need for such a thing, that England wasn’t Israel and Morgan was just paranoid. Now they needed it, but there were no messages. Faye had not known what was coming.
Morgan sat on the bed and stared at the photo of the two of them that stood on the dressing table in an art deco frame. Their faces were similar in bone structure, but apart from that the twins were light and dark opposites. Morgan had inherited their father’s Sephardic Jewish looks, the ebony hair and dusky skin from his Spanish descent. Faye had a Celtic look from their Welsh mother, blonde hair and fair skin with a sprinkling of freckles she tried unsuccessfully to hide. Only their eyes gave their kinship away. Both were blue with an unusual violet slash through them, Morgan’s in the right and Faye’s in the left. Their parent’s personalities were equally separate in the twins; her own passionate, explosive nature and Faye’s cool, calm demeanor were diametrically opposed. Their parents couldn’t overcome these differences, but perhaps the sisters could succeed where they failed. Morgan traced Faye’s face on the picture with a fingertip, willing strength to her sister who had helped her