Stealing Vengeance

by Kaylea Cross

  “Sounds good.”

  She started for the door. Stopped. “Oh, and Megan?” Trinity turned to face her. “I was never here, and this conversation never happened. Not even if Rycroft asks.” She reached for the doorknob. Smiled. “Have a good night.”

  Completely off-balance, Megan locked the door after her. Swinging around to face Tyler, she let out a little laugh. “What the hell just happened?” It was like Trinity—and maybe Rycroft, by extension—had expected her to try and break Amber out. Like they’d hoped she would, even.

  “I have no freaking idea, but you Valkyries are all insane.” He strode over and cupped her face between his hands. “What the hell, Meg? Why did you tell her?”

  “Because Trin already knew the truth. She was testing me to see if I’d come clean to her.” She regretted nothing. “I’m not sorry for what I did and if I’d lied, it would have eroded her trust in me.”

  Tyler didn’t look convinced. “Rycroft’s gonna want answers.”

  “She won’t tell him anything that would get me in serious trouble—and I get the feeling he planned for this anyway.” Loyal Unto Death. Exactly how it was supposed to work.

  Tyler searched her eyes, so strong and sexy, his scent filling her lungs. “You really don’t know where she’s headed?”

  “No. It’s safer that way for all of us.” But wherever Amber was going, Megan hoped she’d be safe.

  Tyler dropped a slow, thorough kiss on her mouth then raised his head, his eyes heavy-lidded and full of heat. “Let’s go to bed,” he murmured, catching her hand to tug her away from the door.

  “Ty, wait.”

  He stopped and faced her.

  Under the intensity of that slate blue gaze, Megan fought the urge to fidget and shift her stance. “You covered for me.”

  “Yeah.”

  “And you helped me get Amber out even though it might have gotten you in a shitload of trouble.”

  His gaze never wavered. “I’d do anything for you.”

  The last vestiges of her protective walls came crashing down. I think I’m in love with you.

  The words stuck in her throat, horror freezing them there. Love? What do you know about love?

  “I don’t want you to go,” she said softly instead, her heart frozen in her chest. Saying the words aloud made her cringe inside.

  He searched her eyes, his expression intent. “Then what do you want?”

  “You.”

  “Then ask me to stay.”

  She swallowed at the verbal challenge. “I can’t ask you that.”

  “Yeah, you really can.”

  “You know what staying would mean. You’d have to leave your life in the States behind, leave your family.”

  “It’s not like I’d never talk to or see them again. And I also know you’re worth it.”

  Oh, dammit, was he trying to make her freaking cry? She was a cautionary tale for as far as a relationship was concerned. He had to know that. She didn’t know how to truly let someone in, but she was willing to try for him. He meant that much to her. She just prayed he wouldn’t break her heart or make a fool of her.

  “So ask me, dimples. I need to hear you say it.”

  Dimples. God, she loved it when he called her that. “Please stay,” she whispered, her heartbeat thudding in her ears. Maybe there was a chance for them. Maybe…

  “Why?” he pressed.

  “Because I care about you. A lot. And I…don’t want to lose you,” she blurted, her heart about to explode.

  He groaned and pulled her to him, his arms locking around her so tight they compressed her ribcage. “Okay. I’ll stay.”

  She clamped her arms around him, overwhelmed with joy and relief, then laughed when he swept her up and carried her to the stairs.

  ****

  Standing at the bow of the ferry, Amber tugged the hood of her jacket tighter around her face to block the cool wind coming off the Channel. It was still dark out and she could see lights twinkling in the distance.

  There was a safehouse in Paris she could use to start her hunt. It would take a couple days to generate any leads. The last intel Amber had gathered said Hannah was last seen in Turkey after escaping over the Syrian border. If she’d been captured, they’d likely taken her back into Syria. That’s where Amber would begin her search.

  The bag at her feet contained everything she needed to get underway. Megan had gathered everything for her, taken care of all the logistics while Amber planned the hack. Without her, Amber would still be languishing inside that cell, facing an uncertain future.

  Her future was still uncertain, but at least it was back under her control again. She had a sister she’d once loved to death.

  Amber still loved her now. She wanted more time with her. To repair the bond that had been cruelly severed. But before that could happen, Amber had a lot of sins to make up for. Beginning with what would hopefully be a rescue mission.

  She stared out over the darkened waves at the tiny lights dancing on the far coastline in the distance. Whatever it took to find out the truth and make amends for her mistakes. This was her fault and she had to make it right, no matter what.

  If you’re still out there, Hannah, hang on. I’m coming for you.

  Amber would find her and bring her back, or die trying.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  There it was. Sneaky bastard.

  Megan tightened her knees around the cantering horse’s sides and pushed up in the stirrups as she drew the arrow back. The last target was low, notched between an old hedge and a log.

  She loosed the arrow, tracking it as it flew. A surge of satisfaction washed through her when it hit a few inches off center.

  She eased her weight back into the saddle and slowed the horse to a trot, posting in the stirrups to avoid the bumps in the animal’s gait. “Well done, Rollo,” she told the horse, patting its neck.

  Rollo snorted and shook his head from side to side, seeming proud of himself.

  Late afternoon sunlight filtered down through the canopy of leaves arching over the path as she rode along. Up ahead, two familiar figures stood near the old stone wall. Marcus and Karas.

  “Well?” he called out, leaning slightly on his cane.

  “I hit all but one. And only because I spotted it too late.”

  One side of his mouth lifted slightly. “I’ve got to keep you sharp.”

  “Yes, you do.” She stopped Rollo in front of him. The horse stretched his neck to bump Marcus in the chest, earning a deep chuckle and a knuckle rub over the white blaze on its forehead. “So, what are you doing all the way out here?”

  “Karas needed a run.” The dog sat beside him, tongue lolling as she panted from her exertion, her favorite yellow ball lying at her front paws. “You finished for the day?”

  “I think so. Why?”

  “No reason. Except that your presence is requested back at the manor.”

  She frowned. “My presence? By whom?”

  “Come and find out,” he said with a mysterious smile, and started for his ancient Land Rover. Karas picked up her ball and trotted after him in a perfect embodiment of the translation of her name—devoted.

  Megan turned Rollo around and rode at a sedate pace back over the hill and down into the valley. Laidlaw Hall glowed like warm honey in the summer sunshine, and beyond it, the smaller gatehouse where she and Tyler had moved in together last week.

  She still couldn’t believe it. It had taken some juggling on his part, but he’d willingly pulled up stakes from his life in the States and left his family behind to be here with her full time.

  Every morning she woke up with him beside her, she was convinced she was dreaming. He’d given up so much for her. Was willing to stand by her through all the uncertainty and whatever else came, and ready to help if—when—they heard from Amber.

  There had been no word from her sister over the past two weeks. Rycroft and his people had tried to locate her, to no avail. But Megan knew in her heart that her s
ister was searching for Hannah and doing everything to find the lost Valkyrie.

  In the meantime, Megan was doing her part to help the others search for the four remaining Valkyries identified in the files Amber had given to Rycroft’s analysts. She read intel reports and reviewed fresh data as it came in, sent to her electronically here at the manor. All four women were believed to be in hiding and safe for now, including Chloe. Whether they were still operating or not was unknown.

  When she arrived at the barn, Marcus’s vehicle was parked alongside it. She handed the now cooled-down Rollo off to the stableman to untack and brush out, then walked through the formal garden and across the lawn to enter the back of the main house.

  The scent of something awesome and savory wafted through from the kitchen, making her stomach rumble. “What is that heavenly smell?” she called out, expecting the cook to answer.

  “Come see for yourself,” a deep voice replied instead.

  She stopped and turned left with a smile. What was Ty doing in here? The stone floor was cool and smooth under her socked feet. “I thought you were going into town for—” Her voice dried up and she stopped in her tracks, everything inside her stilling when she came to the threshold of the formal dining room.

  Ty stood at the head of the long, antique table, smiling at her as he gripped the back of his chair. Marcus sat to his left, grinning from ear to ear.

  Trinity was next to him. A blown-up and cut out picture of Amber’s face was taped to a broomstick and propped in the chair beside her. Pictures of Briar and Georgia each marked its own place in front of a table setting.

  Megan looked back at Tyler in shock. “Is it my birthday?” Maybe they’d found out her real one, that had been in the files Amber had hacked?

  “No, but I hope you’ll like this anyway.” He reached behind him and opened the door into the parlor, revealing a gorgeous, fully decorated tree. It stood in front of the window, glowing in the summer sunshine, strings of multicolored lights and ornaments covering its branches. “Surprise.”

  Megan put a hand to her mouth. “Oh my God, Tyler…”

  He walked over to her, slung a strong arm around her waist and leaned in for a kiss. “Merry Christmas, dimples,” he murmured.

  She covered her face and leaned into him to hide the tears in her eyes. “I don’t believe it,” she whispered back, her voice thick.

  He kissed the top of her head. “Come sit.”

  “Aye, we’re all starvin’,” Marcus put in.

  Megan pulled it together and straightened to look up at Tyler. He smiled, drew a finger down the side of her face. “I didn’t think you should have to wait until the end of December to have a real Christmas.”

  He remembered. All the things she’d told him. The things she’d asked him about Christmas with his own family. He’d done this to heal part of her.

  Megan broke into a smile as she looked around the table, giggled when she took a better look at the enlarged pictures taped to the broomsticks, putting the faces at the right height. About the least flattering shots of the three women that Megan could imagine. “They’d kill you for putting those up. Where did you get them?”

  He lifted a broad shoulder. “Snagged them from security camera footage from London. Come on.” He tugged her over to the head of the table and put her in the seat of honor.

  Megan gazed around the table at all the food laid out as Tyler took the chair to her right.

  “Feast your eyes on this,” the cook, Mrs. Biddington announced as she came through carrying a platter containing a beautifully browned turkey. She placed it in front of Marcus, beaming with pride. “Christmas in August, how lovely. Here, you do the honors.” She handed him a carving knife and fork.

  Yes, it was lovely. Magical. Megan gave Tyler a smile, her heart trembling. “Thank you.”

  He stole another kiss. “You’re welcome.”

  Trinity raised her glass. “A toast.”

  “Wait,” Marcus said, dropping the carving knife. “You bloody Americans. No sense of tradition,” he muttered, and grabbed the paper candy-shaped thing from his plate.

  He glanced around, frowned at them all. “Christmas crackers. We open them first, then make the toast.” He held his out, extending one end toward Megan, and waved it at her. “Grab the end. No, with your other arm,” he said, exasperated. “You ‘ave to cross arms when you do it. There’s a little bit of cardboard inside. Grab it tight.” He crossed his arms and reached toward Trinity, who quickly picked hers up and mimicked him.

  Megan and Tyler crossed arms, sharing a grin.

  “Ready? On the count of three,” Marcus instructed. “Three—”

  Megan and Tyler both pulled. A loud snapping sound cracked through the room.

  “I said on three,” Marcus groused, frowning at her. “As in, at the end of the countdown.”

  “You said on three, so that’s when we pulled,” she argued, peering inside the now open tube.

  A little package fell out. A tiny set of screwdrivers. She held them up, grinning. “Cool. Wonder what trouble I can get into and out of with these babies?” She glanced at Tyler’s. “What did you get?”

  “The saddest little compass I’ve ever seen in my life,” Tyler said, examining the sad tiny trinket in his palm. “Wouldn’t trust this to find my way to the bathroom.”

  Megan chuckled and looked over at Marcus, who was putting a bright purple, paper crown on his head. “Hey, who made you king? How come you get a crown?” she complained.

  His expression turned bland. “You’ve one too. Look inside. There’s a joke, too.”

  Sure enough, she found a dark green paper crown. Smiling, she unfolded it and put in on. “How do I look?” she asked Tyler.

  “Like a queen.”

  “Right, now we toast,” Marcus said, lifting his wineglass and gesturing for Trinity to take over.

  Wearing a neon-orange crown, Trinity raised her glass. “A toast to new beginnings and new friends.” She smiled at Megan. “And to our family. Dysfunctional as it is.”

  “To family,” Megan echoed, returning the smile. She stood to reach across the table and clink glasses with her, then Marcus, and finally Tyler, then tipped her glass at the awful taped-on pictures at the other end of the table. “One hell of an interesting family.”

  They might not be a traditional one in most ways, but Megan wouldn’t have traded them for anything.

  The entire meal was a thrill for her. She had three helpings while they chatted and joked, and Marcus even chuckled once at something Tyler said. After dinner they went into the sitting room and sat around the tree.

  “I always got to play Santa at my house growing up,” Tyler said, swapping out his paper crown for a fuzzy red Santa hat with a white pompom on the end. He reached under the tree for the first wrapped present. “Where’s Karas?”

  The dog, lying at Marcus’s feet, popped her head up and cocked her ears.

  “Here, girl. It says ‘With love from Santa Paws’.”

  Karas came over, sniffed at it, then took it in her mouth and rushed back to lie at Marcus’s feet before tearing open the loosely wrapped paper to reveal a large doggy bone. Marcus reached down to rub the dog’s head, a half-smile on his scarred face. “There’s a good lass,” he murmured.

  He and Trinity had presents too. Then Tyler handed Megan a small, wrapped box. “This one’s for you,” he said.

  Megan unwrapped it, the grin fading from her face when she opened the lid and found the silver bracelet nestled inside. “My mother’s bracelet,” she whispered, pulling it out. Sure enough, her mother’s initials were engraved on the back of it. She looked up at Tyler. “Where did you get this?”

  “It arrived in the mail last week, so I hid it and wrapped it up for you.”

  Amber had sent it. But when? From where? “Did it have a return address?” Maybe Amber had left it as a clue?

  His eyes twinkled with amusement. “No, but it was stamped in London. She must have sent it before she left.”<
br />
  Oh, damn. She would not cry. Would not.

  “Put it on me,” she whispered, biting the inside of her lip as Tyler clasped it around her wrist. It made her feel closer to her dead mother. Now Megan had a piece of her forever.

  “I didn’t get you anything,” she said to Tyler, feeling bad.

  “You’ve given me plenty,” he answered, his expression so full of love it pushed her to the verge of tears.

  Marcus cleared his throat. “I need to stretch my leg. Trinity, can I interest you in a brandy in the study?”

  “You can,” she answered, popping up and making a beeline for the door, Marcus and Karas following her.

  Megan glanced at Tyler. “What’s going on?”

  Rather than answer, he kissed her. She grabbed his shoulders and gave in, the desire pooling hot and sweet in her lower belly.

  Just when she was starting to get light-headed he lifted his head, searched her eyes for a moment, then reached back under the tree and came up with a small box.

  She stared at it, her heart tripping. Part of her was terrified to take it, afraid of what she was pretty sure she’d find inside.

  “Don’t freak out on me, dimples,” he said quietly.

  Holding her breath, she took it and undid the red satin bow on top. Her normally nimble fingers were unsteady as she opened the box. “Oh, Tyler,” she whispered, tears clogging her throat when she saw the ring inside. A simple band of white gold.

  “It’s a promise ring,” he explained, watching her. “I didn’t want to rush you, but I wanted you to know how serious I am about you. About us.”

  She blinked to clear her vision and looked up at him. “You’ve left everything behind and moved halfway around the world to be with me, and you’re willing to risk your life to help find the others. I already knew you were serious.”

  He smiled and cupped the side of her face with one hand. “You’re not going after the others without me. We’re a team now.”

  She threw her arms around his neck and pressed her cheek to his, squeezing her eyes shut. “I love you. So much.” And wow, it wasn’t as scary to tell him as she’d thought it would be.