by Lisa Kessler
“The one that’s parked out on the street?” He shifted a little and winced, but his color seemed to be returning.
How was that even remotely possible?
Pain lined his eyes as he spoke through gritted teeth. “Who else knows you have the box?”
“We posted the pictures on the Digi Robins board, so it would have to be someone familiar with the dark web in order to find it.”
He grabbed the side of the vanity and pulled himself up. She started to move in to steady him, but he waved her off. “I’ll be okay. I have to find out if our intruder has any identification on him.”
“John, you were just shot. You could be bleeding internally.”
“I’m not.” His gaze locked on hers. “You have my word, I’ll explain everything, but first we need to know who is in my garage.”
He walked past her by his own power, and she followed in disbelief. Maybe the bullet just grazed him. But there had been so much blood. She had to be dreaming.
John made his way down the steps, still clutching his gut. The intruder’s body was motionless on the concrete floor, with a dagger buried in his forehead. A halo of dark blood surrounded his head as his empty eyes stared up into oblivion.
She gagged and spun around, turning away from the carnage and trying to catch her breath.
John’s hand rested at the small of her back. “You can wait inside, love.”
Seriously? He was nursing a bullet wound, but he was worried about her. Rich, smart, good-looking, and kind. Why wasn’t he married?
She cleared her throat without turning around. “Sorry. I’ve never seen a body…like that before.” Had he? She stared at John’s Lexus, pretending a dead man wasn’t lying a few feet from her. “Where did you learn to throw a knife like that?”
“Blades have always been my weapon of choice. No chance of misfiring.” John growled in pain. Finally, he came to stand beside her. “No identification on him, but this is enough.”
He opened his bloodstained hand to show her a silver serpent ring with tiny ruby eyes.
She lifted her gaze from the ring to his face. “How so?”
“It’s the ring of the Serpent Society.” He frowned, a crease forming on his brow. “I thought we buried the last of them when we retrieved the Grail, but apparently there were more members than we knew.” He turned the ring over in his hand. “This group usually only hunts for Christian relics. Why would he risk his life for a piece of Greek mythology? Pandora’s box would be worthless to them.”
“That’s for the police to figure out.” Out of habit, she felt her pockets for her phone before she remembered it fell down the stairs.
“No.” He shook his head. “We can’t bring the authorities into this.”
She met his eyes. “We don’t need to tell them about the box, just that this guy came in to steal a car.”
“Let’s get inside.” John sighed and took her hand. “We have much to discuss.”
She pointed behind them without looking at the dead man. “There is a bloody body on the floor of your garage. We need the police, and you need a hospital.”
He released her hand and unbuttoned his shirt to reveal his toned torso and washboard abs…that showed no signs of a bullet hole.
Her jaw went slack as she struggled for words. “But…you…I saw…” She frowned, meeting his eyes. “What the hell is going on here?”
“That journal I showed you last night is mine.” He searched her face and whispered, “I’m John Smyth, the original boatswain of the Sea Dog crew.”
Her head pounded, struggling to deny his words. “That’s impossible. It sank in 1795, right? You’d be…”
“Well over two hundred years old.” Regret shone in his dark eyes. “I drank from the Holy Grail, Harmony. I can’t die.”
…
John held his breath. He hadn’t planned on telling her, but recovering from a bullet wound without any medical attention made the subject impossible to avoid.
Her fingers trembled as she reached out to inspect the bloodstained spot on his abdomen. The tender touch tore at his heart. During his lifetimes in Savannah, he’d been in a few relationships, and plenty of heated one-night stands, but none of it was real. Not like this.
None of them knew the truth.
He laid his hand over hers. “You can’t tell anyone about this.”
She shook her head. “Who would I tell?” She blew out a slow breath. “How is this possible?”
“I don’t know. Magic? Divine intervention? But a sip from the Lord’s cup stretched one day into thousands. We don’t age, and we heal quickly.”
“So, the guy I met on the boat, Drake…he’s immortal, too?”
John nodded slowly, watching her face. “My entire crew.” He cleared his throat and added, “Except Colton. He chose not to have another drink of the cup.”
Her gaze slid down his body again as she withdrew her hand and stepped back. “No way. This can’t be real.”
His chest tightened at the distance growing between them. He should let her go. She had a bright future and a full life ahead of her. He had no business pulling her further into his ageless world. Maybe he could even convince himself it was a selfless act, that she deserved children and a family, but deep down, he understood it to be weakness. Cowardice. Witnessing the ravages of time steal the spark of rebellion from her eyes as the years passed would wound him more than death ever could.
He would help her clear up the mess with Department 13, and now the Serpent Society, and then he’d walk away. Maybe this misadventure would cure her of her commitment to the Digi Robins, too.
And as much as he wanted to believe his bullshit rationalization, deep down, he hoped his thief would continue to be a free spirit. He hoped she wouldn’t walk away.
Hope could ruin a man who faced forever. He forced himself to break the silence. “We should go back inside.”
“But what about the…”
“He’s not going anywhere for now.”
She nodded, wrapping her arms around her middle as she jogged up the steps. John followed, taking out his phone to text Agent Bale. The dead man had been after the agent’s relic. This was Bale’s mess to clean up.
Harmony went into the study, while he peered out the side window by the front door. The black Lincoln was still parked across the square with no sign of a driver. Hopefully the man in John’s garage had been alone.
When he entered the room, Harmony lifted her head. “Are they still out there?”
“The car is, but no driver. I’m guessing our uninvited guest came by himself.” He went behind the bar and poured another round of drinks.
“Were you ever going to tell me?”
“About the Grail?” He returned to the couch and handed her a glass. “I wasn’t planning on it.”
She knocked back the rum and swallowed, setting the empty glass on the table. Impressive. She met his eyes. “So even if we had slept together last night, you were going to keep telling me you were descended from a pirate, not an actual pirate.”
He took a swig, his gaze locked on hers. “Would you have believed me?”
“No.” She shrugged. “Just wondering how long you would have lied to me.”
“I could ask you the same thing.”
She rolled her eyes. “I played you. There’s a difference.” She shrugged. “Besides, that was before our no-lies-between-us deal.”
“I see this as more of an omission.” He finished off his drink and placed the glass beside hers. “In my defense, I’ve never told anyone who I really am. You’re the first.”
She raised a brow. “Are you saying I should feel…special?”
“Aye.” He cleared his throat. “I’ve never taken a bullet for anyone, either, not even my crew.”
“Thanks for that.” A reluctant smile curved her lips as she met his eyes. “Pretty heroic for a pirate.”
He chuckled. “It’s less heroic when you’re certain you won’t die.”
“But
you knew it would hurt.”
He nodded slowly. “True.”
She pinched her fingertips close together in the air. “It might’ve been a tiny bit heroic.”
Her dark eyes sparkled with the mischief he was growing much too fond of.
“Not bad for a pirate,” he admitted.
His phone vibrated with a message from Agent Bale. The clean-up team would be arriving in thirty minutes. Good. He could let them in before taking Harmony to the Sea Dog. He assured Bale the box was safe and offered to return it to Department 13 now, but apparently Bale had already arranged for transport tonight, and he didn’t want his cleanup team to come in contact with the dangerous item. Until he could be certain the guy in the garage was the only Serpent Society watcher, it was too risky to move the box.
John tucked his phone in his pocket. “We’re returning the box to Agent Bale on the open ocean tonight. It’s the only way to be certain your buyer doesn’t witness the exchange. Drake is bringing his replica, too. He’ll be able to make sure even a sharp eye can’t tell the difference.”
“I still have a million questions.”
“And I still have a body in my garage.” He stood, grateful the wound had become more of a dull ache instead of a sharp harpoon in his gut. “Agent Bale’s team will be here in a half hour, and we’re due on the Sea Dog by seven o’clock.”
“I guess I should go before your agent friend gets here. Getting arrested wasn’t on my to-do list today.”
John smirked and offered his hand. “He’s not my friend, and if it’s not raining, I thought we might walk a bit. Do you like ice cream?”
She cocked a brow. “Seriously? With a body in your garage and Pandora’s box hidden in your house?”
He shrugged. “No one will find the box, but I can also leave the alarm on the house so only the garage is accessible. Your instinct to be gone when Agent Bale arrives is probably wise. Just in case.”
“All right. I guess it depends.” Her grin was all the answer he needed. “Is the ice cream from Leopold’s?”
He chuckled. “That can be arranged.”
“Then my answer is yes.” She rose on her toes to brush a kiss to his cheek. “Thanks for saving my life.”
He claimed her lips, savoring the sweet taste. She slid her warm hand up his bare chest as she returned the kiss until his erection throbbed. From the depths of his soul, a whisper of warning echoed. The siren in his arms was luring him into a stormy sea, away from the safe harbor he’d created to face eternity.
But right now, he didn’t fucking care. Right now, all that mattered was Harmony.
Eternity be damned.
Chapter Ten
David arrived at the pirate’s home and entered through the side door on the garage. John left it unlocked, as promised, but the second he set foot into the dark confines, the whispers began.
He barely noticed it at first, a soft hiss caressing his ears, but gradually the hum formed words, tempting him to forget about the dead man on the floor and venture up into the main house. It wasn’t until one of his agents dropped his latex gloves and started for the stairs that David realized what was happening.
Pandora’s box must be inside the house. That was why John had cautioned him that the alarm would be on.
Yes. The hiss intensified, encouraging David to search for it.
But if the Serpent Society was still watching John’s house, it wouldn’t be safe to search for the relic. John was going to give David the box tonight anyway. It would be safer on the ocean. No chance the box could fall into the wrong hands.
But if he took it now, he could save the department budget and nix the helicopter flight.
David ground his teeth against the suggestion as he strode across the concrete floor. There was a body here. Proof it wasn’t safe to bring the box out now, while the house was being watched.
“Agent Watts.” David blocked his man’s path toward the stairs. “Our work is here in the garage.”
Watts blinked and shook his head, waking from the compulsion. “Sorry, sir. I’m not sure what happened.”
“The sooner we get out of here, the better.” David clenched his fists, fighting the mental suggestions. “I’ve got something in the car that might help. I’ll be right back.”
Outside the garage, the whispers faded away. He rolled his shoulders back, releasing the tension as he went to the car, scanning Chippewa Square for any lurkers that could be the dead man’s partner. A small crowd gathered around a busker as he crooned “Deep River” in a warbling, weathered baritone. Another couple snapped selfies in front of the large live oak at the center of the square. Bicyclists roamed the area, and an older couple chatted on one of the benches.
Nothing out of the ordinary.
He popped the trunk and took out a black metal case. The dull finish masked the magic hiding inside. The device within blocked psychic attacks with a high-frequency pitch no human could hear. Hopefully, it would drown out the call of Pandora’s box, too.
When he came back inside, both men were drenched in sweat. The mental stress on them was obvious. The body was in a bag by the door, and the bloodstain on the floor was being bleached. Good.
David plugged the device into an outlet and flipped the switch. Although they couldn’t hear any sounds emitting from the device, the impact was immediate. Blessed silence. This whispers to find the box were gone.
Agent Watts glanced his way, his shoulders dropping into a relaxed posture. “What the hell is that?”
“It’s a new project we commissioned to block psychic attacks.” David tapped the black cover. “Good to know it works.”
The other agent looked over at the stairs to the main house. “Is there a strong psychic in there?”
“Not exactly.” David’s clean-up crew didn’t have the security clearance for information about Pandora’s box. “Let’s finish up here. I need to be on a helicopter in two hours.”
…
Harmony ordered her favorite ice cream flavors: Leopold’s homemade Peanut Butter Chippy and a scoop of banana in a waffle cone. When her father had moved the family to the historic Georgia city, Leopold’s had been a highlight. The ice cream parlor was magic for her and her brother. She hadn’t been inside in years.
John followed her to a table with his ice cream in a cup. She had expected as much. A cup was much safer, no chance for a mess as the ice cream melted.
She took a slow lick of her cone, enjoying the desire burning in his eyes. She hummed with a smile. “I could live on ice cream.” She glanced at his cup and chuckled. “Rum Bisque. Such a pirate.”
“Aye.” His sexy grin sent a shiver all the way down to her toes.
The tiny peek of his true accent enticed her. Hell, every part of him intrigued her. How had she worked with him the past few years and never noticed this side of him? Probably because she’d been too busy putting high-stakes deals on his desk and fighting to get his approval.
At work he’d always been driven, intelligent, and handsome, but there had been a touch of bad boy lurking just below the surface. Under his organized, fiscally conservative exterior lurked a pirate who sailed the oceans and had probably seen corners of the world she’d never dreamed of.
A pirate that would be forever…thirtyish? She took a sip of her Leopold Steamer. “How old were you when you…drank from that cup?”
He scanned the tables and kept his voice low. “Thirty-nine.”
“And how many years have you been celebrating that birthday?”
He chuckled, shaking his head and allowing his inner pirate out. “Birthdays cease to have meanin’ when time has stopped for ye, love.”
She grinned and took another slow lick. “Okay, the accent works for me.”
His deep belly laugh melted her heart. Tough to remember that eventually she’d be old and gray, and he’d still be…gorgeous. Not that it mattered. There was no future between them beyond working together. Part of her recognized that, and she had no business getting her hear
t tangled up with him, but, hell, the risk only made her want him more.
As his laughter faded away, he met her eyes. “When you meet your buyer for the box, I want to come with you.”
“I can handle it.” His request brought her hackles up, surprising her a little. She’d mentioned bringing backup to the drop when she was with Tuck. She even thought it would be John. But now…bringing John might make her vulnerable.
And she didn’t do vulnerable.
His brow cocked as he took another bite of his ice cream. “We’re partners in this venture.”
She leaned back in her chair. “I’ve made drops for the Digi Robins before. I don’t need you to plan this out for me. It’ll be fine.”
“The armed visitor in my garage says otherwise.” He rapped his fingers against the table. “You do have a plan, right? Because I can guarantee if the Serpent Society is involved, they have one.”
She nibbled at the waffle cone, buying time. John had worked with her long enough to know she usually followed her gut and flew by the seat of her pants, but in her defense, some people considered it to be intuitive and flexible. “Tuck will come with me. Why are you so concerned, anyway?”
“My question would be…why aren’t you?” John put his empty ice cream cup on the table and leaned closer to her. “You perplex me, Harmony Andrews.”
“How so?” She focused on finishing the last of her Peanut Butter Chippy rather than meeting his eyes.
“I’ve survived the passage of time through my routines and discipline, but when I’m with you there is a push and pull, like a tide I can’t read or navigate.” She peered over at him as he ran a hand down his face, his gaze going distant while the sky darkened rapidly outside. “I’m trying to say I shouldn’t be worried about your safety. It’s none of my concern.” He cleared his throat. “I’ve seen many of my crew brought to their knees by caring for mortals. It never ends well. I won’t hold you back. From the moment you walked in my building I’ve wished for your success and happiness. Given my…circumstances, I can’t offer you a family or the promise to grow old together. So it’s best I walk away once I know you’re safe.”