Rockwell Agency: Boxset

by Dee Bridgnorth

  Hannah clung to him for a moment, reveling in his touch and his kiss and just the fact that he was there, and real, and tangible. But then she ended the kiss, pushing back just enough to catch her breath. “Wait. You saw Trinity?”

  “Yes, and she wanted me to stay with her,” Liam said. “But I said no. I said that I had to get back to you. God, Hannah, whatever happened to me—I don’t even know—but it only reinforced what I already knew. I love you so much, and I want to be with you. Forever. I’m talking the whole thing. Marriage. Kids. Family dinners. Fenced yards. Anything. Everything. I want it all with you.”

  Hannah felt breathless, and she gripped his hands, trying to steady herself. “Liam, slow down.”

  “No,” he said, shaking his head and gripping her hands harder, pulling her to him. “I’ve almost died over and over again, and tonight I think I did die. At least for a second. And now I’m standing here, with you, and I’m fine. And Winnifred—she’s gone. And Agnew—he’s gone.” He paused. “Agnew is actually gone, right?”

  Hannah nodded, still feeling a bit breathless.

  “And you and I,” Liam said, speaking tenderly, “are still standing here, somehow. Impossibly standing here. Standing here because of you and how incredible you are. I don’t know what it means for us yet, but I just want to be with you, Hannah. You and only you. Forever. Trinity begged me to stay with her, and all I could think about was that I didn’t even want to touch her because I never wanted you to have any reason to wonder whether I was fully yours.”

  Tears were now welling in Hannah’s eyes, and she didn’t protest when Liam drew her close and swept the tears away, kissing her cheeks and her eyes as he stroked her hair and held her close.

  “I love you,” he whispered to her. “You’ve changed everything.”

  She wanted so badly to believe him, and if she was honest, she knew that her heart did believe him. And from the way she was melting into him, she knew her body was on board as well. But she couldn’t seem to shut off her head. She couldn’t seem to stop thinking about Alex, whose promises she had also believed, and how he had disappointed her. She couldn’t stop thinking about the last time that Liam had gotten scared about his feelings for her, run away, and tried to kiss another woman. How could she trust him, knowing that he had lived his whole life moving from one woman to another, looking out for himself and his own interests?

  Liam tilted her face up, searching her eyes with his. “You’re worried,” he said.

  “I love you,” Hannah whispered. “You know I do. I couldn’t help but fall in love with you, Liam. But I’m afraid.”

  “You?” he asked, smiling gently and tucking her hair behind her ear. “But you’re not afraid of anything.”

  “I’m afraid of being hurt again.”

  Liam leaned down and brushed his lips tenderly over hers. “Believe in me,” he murmured. “I won’t let you down. You’re all I want. And if you don’t believe me, maybe this will help.”

  Before Hannah could say anything, Liam pulled back from her and he got down on one knee, right there in the bayou, looking up into her face. “Hannah Reese, you are more than I could ever dream of. You’re all I want. You’re all I’ll ever need. You make me better, and you make me believe in things I never believed in. Will you marry me?”

  Hannah gasped. Even when he had gotten down on one knee, she hadn’t let herself believe that he was really about to propose to her. So, when he said the words, Hannah closed her eyes, lingering in them and repeating them over and over again in her head.

  Nothing had changed, pragmatically. But seeing Liam on his knee, asking her so sweetly to be his and promising her his heart forever—Hannah couldn’t resist. She wanted him more than anything, and she was ready to trust him. She was ready to leap. Her eyes opened, and she smiled through the tears streaming down her cheeks. “Yes,” Hannah whispered, her head spinning with how drastically things had changed in a matter of minutes. She had only just been fighting for her life and his, wondering if either of them was going to make it out of Agnew’s clutches alive, and now they were standing in the middle of the bayou, and he was down on one knee, and she had just accepted his proposal.

  “Yes?” Liam asked, grinning and getting to his feet. “Hannah—did you say yes?”

  She laughed, as he pulled her into his arms. “Yes! Yes, yes, yes. I will marry you, Liam. I love you.”

  “I love you,” he whispered, kissing her fiercely, over and over again. “I love you so much.”

  Hannah wanted to get swept away in the moment, but she had to keep them grounded. She had no idea what had happened or how they had ended up, dressed and unscathed, in the bayou, and she needed to find out before any unexpected consequences hit. “Okay,” Hannah said, gently pushing him away even as she stole one more kiss. “Okay, hold on. We’re going to talk more about this.” Her heart was still beating wildly, and her stomach was fluttering with happiness. “But I need to figure out why we’re here, and where we are—frankly, we also need to know when we are, because I’m dressed and my clothes are not ruined.” She pulled his shirt open, looking at his chest. “And you don’t have a scar on your chest.”

  He looked down at her hands on the fabric of his shirt. “Sure enough. I remember … sort of. Something happened over my heart.”

  “You were bleeding to death,” Hannah said, the memory still heavy and dark for her even though he was standing there whole now. “We’ve gone back in time. We have to have gone back in time. And we’ve turned up …here. I don’t know why.”

  “Where is here?”

  Hannah fumbled in her pockets, and she pulled her cell phone out of her pocket, shaking her head in amazement. It was on, and it had signal, so she opened her GPS and told her phone to pinpoint their location. She couldn’t believe it when she saw that they were down below New Orleans, far, far away from Baton Rouge where they had first entered Agnew’s deadly maze. “What happened?” Hannah said, shaking her head in confusion. “What …time is it?”

  Her phone said that it was 4:16, and she knew that it must be 4:16 in the morning because it was so dark outside. But they had gone into the maze in the afternoon, and surely twelve hours hadn’t actually, literally passed. How had they gone back in time and forward in time simultaneously?

  Liam put his hand gently on her back. “You okay?”

  “I just don’t know what happened,” Hannah said, looking up at him. “I killed Agnew. I’m confident of that. But it had some sort of impact on us that I don’t understand.” She kept staring at her phone, then opened up the calendar. The date showed that it was one day later than she’d expected, confirming that they’d either spent twelve hours trapped or had jumped ahead in time when Agnew’s magically created world had blown up.

  Liam looked around, his arm still firmly around her to keep her close and to keep her warm. “How do we get out of here?”

  That question, at least, Hannah knew the answer to, and she was more than ready to go home. “How about a ride?”

  Chapter 37

  Barrett

  Barrett was awake long before his alarm sounded at 5:30 in the morning. Usually the alarm jolted him from his sleep, and he was a bit groggy as he got up for his morning run. But today he wasn’t groggy at all because he hadn’t slept. He had lain in his bed and stared at the ceiling, his mind working overtime and his gut twisting. He was officially under investigation, and not just by the elders of the Rockwell Clan. The dragon shifter overseers had gotten involved, wanting to know why Barrett was running an agency that was missing money, leaking files, exposing dragon shifter life to the general public, and had now been broken into—presumably by someone with inside knowledge.

  Presumably him.

  Barrett was no fool, and he knew that the higher-ups—all except his parents and his grandfather—thought that he was manipulating his position of power as the leader of the Rockwell Clan and somehow acting against the best interests of the Rockwell and dragon shifters, in general.


  Nothing could be further from the truth, but he had no idea how to prove it, and he had no idea what was happening at the agency. But he knew he was losing control of things, and very quickly. He was going to be removed any day now, and the thought of losing the Rockwell Agency broke his heart.

  It also infuriated him because he knew that he wasn’t doing the things of which he’d been accused.

  The alarm went off, but Barrett made no move to get up. He usually went for a run first thing in the morning to get his blood pumping. He often flew between eleven o’clock and one o’clock at night, so getting up at 5:30 meant keeping a strenuous schedule, but four hours of sleep was more than enough for a man as busy as Barrett.

  His body just didn’t rely on sleep much. It was the benefit of having Rockwell blood—the actual, pure Rockwell bloodline. He was stronger, more resilient, faster, and more powerful than his peers, and he always would be, just naturally.

  Despite that natural power and speed, though, he didn’t feel like going for a run this morning. It just wasn’t in him. He wanted to keep lying in bed, glowering at the ceiling above him.

  But he couldn’t do that either. He had responsibilities to meet and people who were relying on him. He needed to get up, get in the shower, and go to work to face another new day—and whatever it brought.

  Barrett was barely out of bed when there was a knock at the door.

  Surprised, Barrett glanced in the mirror at his big, broad, ripped body on display as he stood in his black boxer briefs. It was bound to be some official business, given the early hour, and he wasn’t about to pull open the door looking like a male stripper.

  He grabbed a shirt and pulled it over his head, the tight black fabric doing little to make his outfit more modest. But the jeans did help. He pulled them on and buttoned them as he walked, making his way towards his front door and pulling it open.

  “Hannah,” Barrett said, happily surprised. “I didn’t expect you. I thought it was—are you okay?”

  “Yes,” Hannah said. “Which makes no sense. We shouldn’t be okay.”

  “We?”

  A man stepped forward, into Barrett’s line of sight, and nodded with a smile. “Hi, I’m Liam.”

  “This is my …” Hannah said, her voice trailing off. Her cheeks flushed, and Barrett knew that he had missed something significant. “My fiancé.”

  Barrett dragged a hand over his hair. “Whoa. Okay. Wow. Uh, that’s something to process, but not necessarily now. Congratulations to both of you. You’ve been off the radar, Hannah. I should have followed up with you, but it’s been chaotic.”

  “We’re fine,” she repeated again, shaking her head. “No need to apologize. I just don’t know why we’re fine. I just flew us up from the bayou below New Orleans. Do you mind if we come in and sit down?”

  “Sure, sure,” Barrett said, stepping back and letting them inside. He nodded to Liam, who nodded back, the two men exchanging perfectly friendly greetings without having to say a word. Barrett led the couple into his living room and sat down with them after turning on some of the lamps. “What’s going on?” he asked, settling into his chair. “Hannah, I know you called yesterday—was it yesterday? God. Time is strange these days.”

  “Tell me about it,” Hannah said, settling back against the couch, Liam’s arm draped behind her. “I killed a warlock,” she told Barrett. “Not the old woman. The one who was actually behind all of this—Agnew Calhoun. He killed his grandmother, who was the old woman. And I killed him after he struck Liam. I’m …pretty sure that if Liam didn’t actually die, and he was seconds from death. And we were underground. Like—way underground. And then when I killed him everything blew up around me.”

  Liam lifted his hand. “I was in this other space. Like a white space. With a dead woman. And the same thing happened to me—the world blew up around me. And then I was fine—untouched. Standing in a bayou. And I heard Hannah moving.”

  “We had been in Baton Rouge before the explosion,” Hannah said, “but when I looked up our location after we reunited, we were south of New Orleans. I don’t understand what happened.”

  Barrett shook his head. “What happened is that you both got very lucky,” he told them. “Very lucky, actually. Killing a warlock has two effects. First, it undoes his most recent spells. Usually those cast within about an hour of the time of his death.”

  Hannah and Liam looked at each other and nodded, and Barrett noted the silent communication between them. It was nice to see Hannah leaning up against the man, and it was obvious from the way that Liam looked at Hannah that he was totally devoted to her. He didn’t know exactly how things had moved to engagement so quickly, but he trusted Hannah’s judgment entirely, and as far he was concerned, that made Liam one of them. Clearly Liam knew all about Hannah’s secrets anyway.

  “That checks out,” Liam said. “We couldn’t have been down in that hole any longer than half an hour or forty-five minutes. Tops.”

  “Okay,” Barrett said. “So, when he died, then that hole—which I’m assuming he created—would have gone away, which I’m assuming accounts for the explosion. Liam, if you were in a white space with a dead person, you were probably …well, dead.” Barrett rubbed his palms against his jeans, shrugging his shoulders. “Actually, you were definitely dead. But you got yanked back when Hannah killed the warlock.”

  Liam looked down at Hannah, his eyes filled with wonder. “How many times have you saved my life now?”

  “A lot?” Hannah suggested, with a smile that was soft and warm, as she leaned closer to him.

  Liam brushed a kiss over her lips, and Hannah flushed, then turned back to Barrett, biting her bottom lip to hide the way she was smiling.

  “What’s the second effect?” she asked, blushing even harder when Barrett waggled his eyebrows at her to tease her about her sappiness.

  Barrett liked to tease Hannah, and he would plenty, but for the moment he refocused on what they were here to learn about. “The second effect is that time often gets altered. Whether that’s the force created by the explosion of magic or something else …I don’t know. But people affected by the warlock’s death often do lose a lot of time.”

  “We lost about twelve hours,” Hannah said. “Approximately.”

  “Could have been a lot worse,” Barrett said. “It sounds like you both escaped relatively unscathed, and for that …I’m very grateful.”

  Hannah smiled at him. “Thanks. I knew you would be able to tell us what happened. Liam, Barrett is my boss. I know I’ve told you about him, but this should prove just what a great boss he is. He knows about all of this stuff.”

  “We really appreciate your help,” Liam said. “I know that you’re more than Hannah’s boss. You’re her friend. Which means I hope we’ll be friends.”

  “I hope that, too,” Barrett said, his smile a little more tired now that Hannah had brought up his position as head of the Rockwell Clan Agency. His job used to be filled with purpose, and drive, and happiness, but more and more he was beginning to feel dread when he thought about work, and he hated that. There was no reason that he should have the privilege of working in a job he loved with his best friends in the world and feel so …discouraged with things. He had to find out what was going on at the agency, or he was going to lose everything he wanted. Maybe even his position in the Rockwell Clan.

  But he didn’t want Hannah worrying about that right now. Not when she’d just had a victory over a warlock, saved a man’s life, and gotten engaged.

  “Are you both okay?” Barrett asked, surveying them. “You don’t look like you walked away with too many serious injuries.”

  “Liam has a few injuries,” Hannah said. “Winnifred did a number on his back. But he’ll heal. Jordan helped him a lot with that already. Otherwise, with the spells undone, we’re just sore and tired and …tired. And tired.”

  Liam lifted a hand. “Especially tired.”

  Barrett chuckled. “Yeah, well that’s to be expected. A lot of cleanu
p involved in this case?”

  “Actually, no,” Hannah said, shaking her head. “We just have to make sure that Liam’s name doesn’t get tossed around anymore in the investigation into Trinity’s murder.” She hesitated. “I killed the person who killed Trinity. So, they’re never going to solve her case.”

  “Let me talk to a guy,” Barrett said. “There are one or two people down at the police precinct that I have an understanding with. I’ll make sure they have the name of the actual killer, and then they can go link it up themselves and declare him dead and solve the case—all without Liam.”

  Hannah beamed at him. “Thank you.”

  Barrett waved a hand dismissively. “Of course. You know I’ve always got your back. It sounds like you did a kick-ass job on the case—as always. Baton Rouge is now a little safer without a witch and a warlock waging war on whoever they want.”

  “She was amazing,” Liam said, kissing Hannah’s temple. “Mind if I take her off to bed?”

  Hannah flushed bright red. “Liam!”

  Liam laughed. “To sleep. Because we’re tired.” Barrett clearly heard what Liam whispered when he lowered his lips to Hannah’s ear. “But not …too tired, I hope.”

  Barrett was happy for his friend, as she giggled and pushed at Liam, and he stood up, walking them both to the door. “Congrats again,” Barrett said. “Once you’re rested, we’ll celebrate your engagement. Three of our friends have recently started dating people seriously,” he told Liam. “They’ll all be shocked to hear that Hannah jumped in front of them all and got engaged first.” He smiled at Hannah. “Shocked in a good way.” Grabbing his keys from the bowl that sat on the table by the door, he handed them to her. “You flew here, right? Take my car to drive home. It’ll be too hard to get a taxi right now. I’ll get a ride in.”

  Hannah took the keys and hugged him hard, and Barrett patted her back, dropping a kiss on top of her head. “Go on,” he said, opening the door. “Get some well-deserved rest.”