by D. N. Leo
Chapter 19
Lorcan awoke, finding himself tucked comfortably in bed in Orla’s apartment. He shifted, his body ached everywhere. He closed his eyes and tried to recall what had happened. They’d fought in the dark, in the midst of rain, storm, lightning, and thunder. Three men had been on him and a big one was chasing Orla with a knife. They had left him no choice. Lorcan remembered pulling his gun and shooting at the guy launching himself at Orla. Then he’d swung the gun to fire at the three others racing toward him. And the tall man who seemed to be the boss shot him.
He remembered the sensation of the bullets hitting him. There had been very little pain. A bit of pressure. And then he was drowning. He remembered nothing else.
Orla walked out of the kitchen with a mug of coffee. Seeing that Lorcan was up, she darted to the bed.
“How are you feeling?” She cupped his face. He was the same, her Lorcan with the striking blue eyes and the mouth made for kissing. And that was exactly what she did. She kissed him. Deeply and possessively.
He shifted again and tried to sit up. He looked at his chest, remembering where the bullets had hit him. The wounds were completely healed. Astonished, he straightened more and looked again. There was no trace of the wounds save for two new faint scars.
He stared at Orla for a long moment. She looked different.
“What happened to your hair?” He asked. Her long black hair was a foot shorter.
She smiled. “It got muddy and tangled in the fight last night, so I had it cut this morning.”
He smiled. “Pretty.” He pulled her into his arms and embraced her. He could feel her body shaking a bit, and then settle. She gave him her coffee mug. He smiled and took a tentative sip. From the moment he had woken, he felt his body recovering at an amazing speed. He could literally feel the cells in his body regenerating and healing. A sea of energy and strength washed through him. He felt incredible.
“What happened last night, Orla? I mean, after I passed out. I remember being shot. I couldn’t have recovered this fast from those injuries. I feel as if I could knock out two bouncers at once now.”
Orla bit her lips and hesitated.
“Don’t lie to me. If you’re taking this long to answer, that means you’re plotting your lies. Just tell me the truth. Whatever it is, I can handle it.”
Orla cleared her throat. “Mya came for us. She used her abilities to heal you. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have made it to the hospital. I hesitated telling you because Mya said the healing might have undesirable side effects. She doesn’t know what they might be. It’s different for each person.”
Lorcan gazed at Orla’s face, searching for what she was leaving unspoken.
She regretted lying to him, but she continued. “I don’t have an ‘I’m lying’ face right now, if that’s what you’re looking for. Are you feeling any different?”
“Apart from an amazing strength surging through my body, not much different really. I still love you the same.”
“Not more?”
“Much more.” He smiled. “What about Madeline?”
“Mya told me that the LeBlancs rescued her.”
Lorcan narrowed his eyes. “Is that all you’re going to tell me?”
Orla nodded and pushed up to her feet to go to the kitchen. Lorcan mumbled a curse. He knew she was lying.
Suddenly, there was static as the spy device activated. Mrs. Hanson’s voice resonated from it, making Lorcan leap from the bed and dart toward his desktop computer.
“It’s good to see you again, Ciaran. What has this old woman done to deserve a visit?” asked Mrs. Hanson.
Orla charged out from the kitchen.
“Ciaran and Madeline beat us there. They’re at Mortlake now,” Lorcan said. “We have to let Madeline and Ciaran know the old woman planned that attack last night.”
“Lorcan!” Orla waved her arms in the air.
“Yes.”
“The guys yesterday were willing to kill for whatever they’re looking for. I don’t want to have to handle another episode like last night.”
“Based on what you said, Mya saved me, right? She might be able to do it again. She’s a goddess. Why worry?”
“Can’t you just call Ciaran?”
“There’s only one person I know of who can hack Ciaran LeBlanc’s phone number. And that’s God,” Lorcan deadpanned and grabbed his jacket.
“It’s half an hour to Mortlake. They won’t even be there by the time you get there,” Orla protested.
“That’s when you drive.” As Lorcan finished the sentence, he was already halfway out of the door. Orla cursed and followed him.
Part II
Chapter 20
Fifteen minutes later, Lorcan and Orla were hiding across the street, close enough that they had a good visual of Mrs. Hanson’s place. From their vantage point, they could see Ciaran and Madeline standing in Mrs. Hanson’s front yard.
Madeline’s shaky voice came over Lorcan’s spy device. “Her earrings, the jingle of her earrings caused my hallucination at the walls. Don’t listen to it.”
“Your magic—if I can call it magic—won’t work on me, Mrs. Hanson. I believe you know that,” Ciaran said.
Mrs. Hanson grunted out the words, “Greedy people are supposed to die!”
“Madeline’s not greedy, Mrs. Hanson. She was blackmailed into this, and I’m going to help her sort it out. I believe you’ve mixed with dark forces. I’ve lost a man because of this. A dear friend of mine. I need to know who asked you to send those seeking information about John Dee to Fossey Way,” Ciaran asked.
Mrs. Hanson laughed, a crooked laugh that pulled at the muscles on her face and made it look as if she was in pain. “You think I’m going to tell you that?”
“I just wanted to give you a chance to tell me in person. I still have respect for you for what you did in the past. But if you don’t tell me now, I will find out, and I’ll trash your Rose Powder,” Ciaran said.
“Don’t you dare,” Mrs. Hanson screamed, but it came out more like a croak. She swung her head so that her earrings jingled loudly.
Madeline grabbed her ears and stepped back.
Mrs. Hanson shook her arms so that the bells dangling on her beaded wristbands sang as well. The sound from the earrings was the worst, though. Mrs. Hanson gyrated as if doing some macabre dance. She laughed.
Next to Lorcan, Orla grabbed at her ears. “Oh no no, baby, block her out of your mind. Please. Don’t do that to me again.” Orla nodded. She closed her eyes, concentrated, and brushed Mrs. Hanson’s voice out of her head.
In the yard, Ciaran stepped in front of Madeline.
“Go to the car and wait for me there.”
“No.”
“Go, Madeline!”
Mrs. Hanson swung her earrings harder and the noise increased. Madeline grabbed her ears and slumped to the ground. Ciaran called Madeline, pulling her up and backward.
Lorcan felt sorry for Ciaran. He knew what it felt like when the same had happened to Orla. He didn’t know how to help Ciaran.
Madeline shrugged off Ciaran’s arms and charged toward the old woman. She grabbed the dangling earrings and pulled hard. The woman screamed in pain. Blood poured from her ripped ear lobes. The old woman grunted, and the sound coming out of her was demonic and deep. She pulled out a knife and charged at Madeline. Seeing the swing of the knife, Madeline stepped back, and Ciaran darted toward her from behind. Madeline tripped on a small stone, tumbled, and fell on her back. The old woman growled and jumped atop her, swinging the knife in a downward arc.
Ciaran grabbed the old woman’s hand. The old woman looked at him as if she had been waiting for just that moment. She did not jerk her hand free, but turned the knife on herself, along with Ciaran’s hand, and plunged it into her chest.
Lorcan and Orla gasped.
From behind of Mrs. Hanson’s house, the gardener walked out, and what he saw was Ciaran’s hand still on the hilt of the knife, stabbing Mrs. Hanson.
“Oh, God! Oh, my God, Mrs. Hanson!” He stumbled backward, fell, and then stood up and ran.
Madeline rolled away. Mrs. Hanson lay on the ground, still evilly grinning at Madeline and Ciaran.
“Keep the powder. You and your bitch will never get away with this, she said. “I’ll see you in hell.” And then the old woman stared into nothingness with dead eyes.
Madeline pulled at Ciaran. He stood there with blood on his hands. Madeline wiped the blood from his hand with the inside of her jacket and pulled Ciaran away.
Lorcan put his listening device away. He stepped out from their hiding place, and Orla pulled at his elbow. “Nothing more to listen to here, Lorcan. Let’s go . . .” She trailed off when they saw the gardener come back to look at Mrs. Hanson’s dead body. He took her necklace and ran away again.
Lorcan clenched his teeth. “Low life scumbag. Do you think he’s going to come out as a witness when the LeBlancs are framed for this murder?”
“Why do you think they’re going to frame Ciaran for this?”
“That’s quite obvious,” he grumbled and darted in the direction in which the gardener had disappeared.
Orla puffed as she tried to chase after Lorcan. She was sure he just wanted to beat the gardener up and dissuade him from going to the cops as a witness. They skidded to a halt a safe distance away as they saw a man pulling the gardener into a limousine parked at the corner of the street. They waited. And waited. Then the gardener was kicked rolling out of the car. From the back seat, a tall man stepped out.
Orla gasped. “That’s William Turk.”
William stepped forward as the gardener staggered back. When they got into position beside a dumpster, William pulled out a dagger and swung at the gardener’s throat. As the man slumped to the ground, William wiped the dagger’s blade on the gardener’s shirt and walked away. A couple of William’s goons stayed behind to clean up the mess.
Orla was shaking in Lorcan’s arms and tears were streaming down her face. She could feel his body shaking with anger as well.
“He used the White Knight’s dagger I stole for him,” Orla cried.
“Shhh.” Lorcan kissed her forehead, and held on to her for a long moment. After a while, they walked solemnly back to their car.
Chapter 21
The cell phone in Orla’s purse buzzed before she reached the car, on the screen was William Turk’s caller ID. She almost dropped the phone.
“He just killed a man, and now he’s calling me. What could he possibly want?” Orla hissed.
“Just pick up the phone and stay calm, baby,” Lorcan soothed.
Orla blew out a breath and picked up. “Hello?” she greeted.
“Orla, I’ve changed the plan now . . .” William said at the other end of the line.
“I’ve changed my plan too,” Orla cut in firmly.
“What? You know you can’t back out of the job, right? You don’t want to upset me, Orla.”
“What do you want?” Orla asked.
“I need to speak with you in person. Same place. In half an hour.”
“I’m not even in the country,” Orla raised her voice.
“I know where you are, and I need to speak to you. Be there or else.” William hung up.
Orla swung her arm to heave her phone at the ground, but Lorcan grabbed at it. “Calm down, baby. We’re down to one phone now. Let me hold on to it.” He slid Orla’s phone into his pocket.
“Where’s your phone?” she asked.
“Lost in the fight last night. Let’s go.”
They sat at a corner table in the restaurant where Orla had met with William Turk before. This time, Lorcan remained with Orla. They saw William appear at the entrance of the restaurant.
“Stay calm and play it through, Orla. You’ll be fine.”
She nodded although her stomach quivered.
William approached reluctantly. Lorcan sat still, his arm protectively around the back of Orla’s chair. He extended his hand for a shake, which William reciprocated after an awkward pause.
“He’s not part of the deal,” William snapped.
“He’s my partner. He’s been in on all of my deals, including the White Knight’s dagger. But that’s not relevant. We want out of the deal. I’ll return the client’s deposit.”
William shook his head. “It doesn’t work that way.”
“How does it work?” Lorcan asked dryly.
“Why do you want out of the deal?”
“Change of heart. We have bigger and better fish to fry.” Lorcan gave William an icy stare.
“You want more money?”
Lorcan let out a dry chuckle, but the amusement wasn’t reflected in his eyes.
“I’ll take that as a no to more money. Well, you can opt out of the next step. But you have to deliver Jo to me as the completion of this job.”
“What will you do to her when you get her?” Orla asked.
“That’s none of your business. You’ll rescue her from Zen. You’ll be a hero, as you said. What else do you want?” William smirked.
“You said before that there would be no killings in this job.” Orla raised her voice.
“Have you seen anything different?”
Lorcan squeezed Orla’s hand under the table. She bit her lip and said nothing.
“She’s just seen a lot of incidents involving violence and death in kidnapping cases in the news lately. She’s a bit worried. That’s all,” Lorcan said and absently rubbed the back of Orla’s hand.
William sneered. “Get a clerk job if you’re scared. But with the crime rate these days, even checkout chicks are killed as collateral damage. Hell, bystanders were killed at a bank robbery yesterday. Why don’t you wrap her in velvet and make her a housewife?”
“I asked. She thinks it’s too soon to make such a commitment to me. But a positive step toward it is that she takes no more jobs from you. So what’ll it cost for you to release us from this job?”
“As I said, that’s not how it works. You have to deliver Jo to me. It’s a done deal.”
Lorcan arched an eyebrow. “And if not?”
“If not, S . . . my employer isn’t going to be happy. When he’s in a bad mood, people tend to encounter a lot of unfortunate incidents—some of them fatal. You don’t want that to happen to your loved ones, do you?”
Lorcan laughed. “All right. If you insist. I want fifty percent of the money in our bank account by tomorrow.”
“That’s not the deal.”
“You have that deal with Orla. This is my deal. Jo is a computer game designer. You need more than just to rescue her. You need her talent. You need that as much as the LeBlancs do.”
William arched an eyebrow.
“Oh, and I forgot to mention . . . I can provide you with the exact locations of the LeBlanc’s whereabouts. If you can find anyone who has my kind of skills that will work at this rate, I’ll give you the info for free. What do you say?”
Silence.
“I’m sure this is beyond your pay scale, so if you need to consult your employer . . .” Lorcan said, withholding his smirk.
“All right. I’ll take the deal.”
“Fifty percent in our account by tomorrow morning,” Lorcan confirmed with a smile.
William cast a stern look toward Lorcan and Orla. “You know what will happen if you two fuck me over.”
Lorcan winked. “Of course, we do.”
“Why did you call me here?” Orla asked.
“I need to push the plan forward. Zen will arrive with Jo tomorrow. I want you to get her right at their hotel. The address is here.” William pushed a piece of paper toward Orla. “This should be easier than getting her when Madeline and Ciaran make the exchange.”
Lorcan smirked at William. “You want to fuck Zen around, or your boss around?”
William stood. “That’s none of your business,” he said and turned on his heel, striding along the lush corridor toward the entrance.
Chapter 22
Orla s
lammed the apartment door behind her, and threw her purse against the wall. “More money? Finishing the job? Didn’t you see what William did today? He killed a man in cold blood. Let me guess, the only reason he didn’t kill the guy in his limo was because he didn’t want blood stains in his car.”
“What choice did we have, Orla? He wouldn’t let us out of the deal. The deal that you made. The one that I told you not to take before we had a proper discussion.”
“Oh, so now that’s my fault.” Orla waved her arms in frustration.
“Blaming doesn’t help the situation. Just in case you didn’t notice, I killed four men yesterday. So I’ve got William beat on the killing chart,” Lorcan growled.
“I didn’t notice?” Orla snarled, jabbing her finger at Lorcan’s chest. “You bled in my arms. You almost died in my arms. Do you know how hard it was for me to keep you alive yesterday? Do you know how much it hurt seeing you die, knowing that it was my fault? Do you know what I had to do to trade for your life?”
Lorcan narrowed his eyes. “What did you trade for my life?”
“It doesn’t matter!” She waved her hands absently, exhausted after her rant. She headed toward the bathroom.
Lorcan grabbed at her elbow. “It does matter. What happened yesterday wasn’t your fault. I’ve never said it was your fault. We’re in this together. I just want you to trust me. What did you trade? And with whom?”
“There’s nothing you can do about it anyway.”
“Then tell me. Please.” Lorcan rubbed Orla’s arm. He nudged her gently so that she sat down on the sofa. He cupped her face and gazed at its every curve and line. “You know what I feel about you, Orla. Whatever you’re going to say won’t change that. I want you to trust me.”