Pirate's Persuasion (Sentinels of Savannah)

by Lisa Kessler

  The circle chanted in Latin, the fervor growing as the high priestess pulled a dagger from her robe. David set the goggles aside and drew his revolver, keeping the woman in the red robe in his sights.

  She lifted the blade over her head, and David’s finger caressed the trigger.

  Suddenly the woman screamed, dropping the dagger in the dirt and gripping her hand as she spun away from Agent Henderson. What the hell?

  Greyson stepped out of the darkness into the flickering light of their torches and spat on the ground before lifting his gaze. “Consider this the only warning yer goin’ to get. I don’t give a shit what kind of dark magic ye conjure here, but if any of it touches Drake Cole or Heather Storrey again, I’ll be aiming for your head next time.” He narrowed his eyes. “And I don’t miss.”

  Damn it. David lifted his wireless mic to his lips, whispering, “I’m coming in. Don’t blow your cover. We can’t lose the figurehead.”

  Creeping in closer, he flicked his gaze from the circle to the pirate. David’s heart raced, sweat beading on his brow. This fucking pirate was not going to screw up this mission.

  Greyson walked right past the high priestess to retrieve his throwing star from the ground. When he straightened, he also had the witch’s dagger, examining the handle.

  David made his way around the circle on the edge of the torchlight, sticking to the shadows.

  “How’d you get this?” Greyson held up the witch’s blade.

  “None of your fucking business.” The high priestess focused on the coven, her voice taking on an animalistic hiss. “Binding spell. Now.”

  Greyson reached for his gun, but the Latin chants froze him in place. Fuck. David wiped his brow. He had to get involved. Even if it meant losing the relic, he couldn’t be a silent witness to a murder.

  “Everyone freeze!” He came forward into the circle like a freight train, gun raised and aimed directly at the leader. “I’m a federal agent. One move and you’re under arrest.”

  The high priestess put her hands up and slowly turned to meet his eyes. Something about her face struck a chord. She looked familiar, but at the same time, he knew he’d never met her.

  She lifted a brow. “You don’t look like a cop.”

  “Special Agent David Bale.” He didn’t bother to remove his identification wallet. “You’ll need to come with me.”

  “I have other plans.” She whispered some words in Latin, but before she could finish, Agent Henderson had a gun to her head.

  “I can’t let you do that.”

  “You’re fucking kidding me.” The high priestess lifted her hands again.

  The circle was broken as the rest of her coven scattered, but David kept his gun aimed at the leader. She was the key to finding the figurehead. “You’re under arrest.”

  Her lips pulled into a thin smile. “I don’t think so.”

  David’s ears popped. He blinked. She was gone, leaving him and Agent Henderson pointing their guns at each other. “Fuck.” He lowered his Glock, shaking his head.

  Agent Henderson holstered her weapon. “What happened?”

  “Judging by my ears popping, it was most likely a blur spell.”

  “I never saw her move, sir.”

  David nodded. “A blur spell actually blurs time. To us it was the blink of an eye, but I’d guess she blurred at least five minutes to get a good head start.”

  “What about him?” She pointed to the frozen pirate.

  David mumbled a few Latin words under his breath, and Greyson stumbled forward.

  “What the hell was that?” the pirate grumbled.

  Agent Henderson stormed toward him, poking her finger into his chest. “That was you fucking up my undercover mission.” She took off the black hooded cloak, fire burning in her eyes as she turned toward David. “We should get back to headquarters and check the database. At least we both saw her face. Maybe we have her in our records someplace.”

  Maybe. That would explain why she seemed so familiar, but…he was missing something. He could feel it. Usually he had a solid memory for details. If he’d seen her face in one of their databases for wielders of magic, he would’ve remembered. This was different. It was like she resembled someone he knew. If that were true, he should be able to recall the connection.

  He ground his teeth, watching Agent Henderson’s back as she walked away. He’d figure this out.

  “The woman in red.” Greyson came to his side. “She looked like Drake’s lady only…more color.”

  That was it. Being in the dark and hyperfocused on protecting his agent, he hadn’t been able to place why she looked familiar. David rubbed his forehead, processing the information. She looked like Heather. Except Heather didn’t have a sister.

  At least not as far as he knew.

  …

  Drake’s eyes snapped open. Someone was knocking on the door downstairs. He glanced at the angel dozing on his chest. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep. What if the witches had attacked him?

  But they hadn’t. And something about having Heather in his arms settled his tortured soul. She gave him a taste of hope for the future, which both terrified and intrigued him at the same time. He knew better than to get entangled with mortals. It wouldn’t end well.

  But she made him forget about all that.

  Another knock from downstairs.

  Damn it. Maybe he could get rid of the knocker without waking Heather. He carefully slid out of the bed, settling her head on the pillow. She hummed but never opened her eyes. Satisfied she was undisturbed, he picked up his jeans and pulled them on then jogged down the stairs.

  He cracked the front door and found Agent Bale staring back at him. The agent scanned Drake from his bare feet all the way to his lack of a shirt.

  A muscle in his cheek clenched. “I need to speak with Heather.”

  “Too bad.” Drake’s entire body tensed as he shook his head. This asshole broke her heart, and now he was standing on her porch no doubt hoping for her help again. “She’s still sleeping. You can call her later.”

  He started to close the door, but Bale caught the edge. “This is important.”

  Drake surged forward, forcing Bale backward on the porch until he hit the iron lace railing. “You wouldn’t know what was important if it bit you in the arse.” He pointed back toward the house. “Heather’s sleeping. Call back later and make a fucking appointment.”

  Bale straightened, pushing into Drake’s personal space. “You can tell yourself whatever you want to about me, but having you and your crew anywhere near Heather puts her in danger. If you really care for her, you’d walk away like I did.”

  “I don’t need either one of you to protect me.”

  Drake looked over his shoulder to find Heather in a robe, her arms crossed tight. He stepped back, putting some space between him and Agent Bale. “Thought you were sleeping.”

  “Not anymore.” Her gaze met his for a second before she turned to Bale. “Why are you here, David?”

  “Because we need to talk. I’ve been tracking down a potentially dangerous relic, and last night I…” He glanced at Drake and back to her. “We should talk alone.”

  Heather reached for Drake’s hand. His fingers laced tight with hers, sending a jolt through his heart.

  “Drake stays.” She lifted her chin. “We don’t have any secrets between us.”

  Bale clenched his jaw with an almost imperceptible nod. “Fine. May I come inside?”

  “Please.” She gestured to the living room. “Have a seat.” Bale took the chair, and Heather led Drake to the couch. She released Drake’s hand and tucked her long hair behind her ear. “What happened last night?”

  …

  Heather tried to squelch her annoyance at David’s avoidance of mentioning which “relic” he was after, but ever since the night Drake stepped between her an
d a gunman, he’d been showing her what a partnership could be. He wasn’t perfect, but at least he trusted her.

  That was more than David had ever done. And now she couldn’t un-notice that David was still keeping secrets from her.

  She’d reached the bottom of the stairs in time to hear David’s warning to Drake about walking away to keep her safe. He could tell himself his sudden exit was noble, but there was nothing selfless about the way he broke her heart without so much as an explanation.

  “You were right about a new coven forming in Savannah. I had an undercover agent infiltrate their order last night, but one of the Sea Dog crew botched her initiation.” His eyes narrowed at Drake for a moment, and then he focused on Heather again. “But before the high priestess escaped, I saw her face. My other agent is searching our databases now.”

  “What’s that got to do with me?” Heather asked. “How can I help you find something when you won’t even tell me what we’re looking for?”

  “I’m not here about the relic.”

  Something moved in her peripheral vision. The boy. Thomas. She raised a finger to silence David and drew in a long slow breath, allowing her physical senses to fade into the background.

  The boy wrung his hands, his voice more of a whiny whisper. “She lost my uncle’s dagger. She’s real mad.”

  “Thomas is here.” Heather kept her voice gentle as she spoke to the ghost. “So, you’re free?”

  “No, she still has the power, but she can’t focus it on Uncle Drake.” Thomas looked at his uncle. “Not without something of his. Tell him I’m sorry. They make me say awful things. She wants him dead.” He looked at Heather, pleading in his eyes. “I don’t want to hurt him.”

  “We know.” Heather nodded. “We’ll stop her.”

  “Good.” His form thinned, and his spirit was gone.

  Heather blinked, her other senses returning to the present company. “The witch controlling the spirit of Drake’s nephew apparently lost the item she needed to focus the attacks on Drake.” She looked into his exhausted eyes. “I think it’s safe for you to sleep right now.”

  “This is going to sound crazy.” David leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “The witch who can control spirits looks like you. Darker complexion, but she could be your sister.” He paused. “If you had one.”

  Heather shifted a little closer to Drake, hoping he’d take the cue to stay silent about Ashley. Until now, she hadn’t realized that David wasn’t the only one to keep secrets during their relationship. It hadn’t been intentional at the time. He’d been a government agent knee-deep in paranormal events. She’d been eager to help him. Her relationship with Ashley was rocky, so she’d never thought to introduce him. He knew her parents were dead and her grandmother left her the house, but her sister had never come up in conversation.

  And now, Ashley could have the Serpent Society and Department 13 after her.

  It also meant that Ashley was leading a coven. Possibly the one attacking Drake. No. No way. Ashley would never hurt anyone. Not purposely.

  “That’s a new one.” Heather shrugged, hoping her expression looked dubious. “No one has ever told me I look like anyone else.”

  David didn’t look convinced, but his cell phone pinged, pulling his attention from Heather. She glanced at Drake and he took her hand. His strong presence calmed her nerves.

  “I’ve got to go. We might have a lead on the relic.” He stood, his gaze fixed on Heather. “Are you sure this woman couldn’t have been your cousin or something? She looked so much like you.”

  “I’ll dig through old family scrapbooks and let you know.”

  David left, closing the door behind him, and Heather released a pent-up breath, sinking in to Drake. “There has to be a mistake. Ashley can’t be the one hurting you.”

  He wrapped his arm around her shoulder, his thumb stroking her skin slowly. “I know you don’t want to believe it, but until we can prove it’s not her, we have to assume you’re in danger. I hired Greyson to help in case the witches attack me again.”

  Heather sighed, resting her head on his chest. “Thomas wanted me to tell you he’s sorry. He doesn’t mean the things they’re making him say.”

  “Doesn’t make them any less true.”

  She straightened, meeting his eyes. “What are you talking about?”

  “It’s my fault he’s dead.” Pain shone in his blue eyes. “It should’ve been me. I asked God to take me instead.”

  “You didn’t sink that ship, and you only brought Thomas along because your sister asked you to look after him.”

  He ran a hand down his face. “Either way, he ended up at the bottom of the ocean.” He cupped her face in his hand. “If anything happens to you…”

  “I’m not going anywhere.” She glanced at the door and back to Drake. “And before you start giving David’s words any weight, that was the first I’ve ever heard that he left to protect me. He just stopped calling and didn’t return my calls or texts. He ghosted me. Months later, he needed my help communicating with one of his informants after the Serpent Society killed him. I helped him, but he never offered any explanation, just a reimbursement check for my time.” She stared down at her pale hands in her lap. “There was nothing noble about the way he walked out of my life.”

  “I can’t have your blood on my hands, too.”

  She kissed his palm. “You won’t.” Her lips brushed his cheek as she whispered, “I’m not helpless. I can protect myself.”

  A knock on the door had them both looking up. Heather stood to answer it, but Drake caught her hand. “Let me.”

  Did he really believe someone would grab her off her own porch in broad daylight? She followed him to the door, relaxing when Greyson grinned back at them.

  “Found something I thought you might like returned.” He held up a dagger with a scrimshaw handle.

  Drake took the blade while Greyson came inside, eyeing Heather.

  She frowned. “Is something wrong?”

  Greyson shook his head, raising a brow. “Pretty sure I met your sister.”

  “You were with David, I mean Agent Bale. You were with him last night?”

  “Shit. Did the lubber beat me to it this morning?”

  Drake glanced at Greyson, tearing his attention away from the dagger. “Bale already stopped by.” He turned the knife in his hand. “Where did you find this?”

  “The witch had it.”

  “Impossible.” Drake lifted his chin, his eyes narrowing. “I keep it in the bottom of my tool kit. How would she have found it?”

  Greyson shrugged. “No idea, mate, but I figured you would want it back.”

  Heather moved closer to Drake, inspecting the dagger in his hand. “Could that be the item she needs to focus the power on you?”

  He glanced her way. “To make Thomas haunt me?”

  She nodded slowly. “Does it have a sentimental meaning for you?”

  “It was my utility knife.” He stared down at the blade. “I used rope to tie myself to Thomas as the ship sank. I promised I wouldn’t leave him alone. When I woke up on the bank of the Savannah River, the ropes were cut and this dagger was in my hand. I don’t have any memory of cutting the lines, but I must have. We didn’t know the Grail had made us immortal. Not yet, anyway.”

  “So this blade represents your tie to Thomas.”

  He lifted his gaze. “I suppose it could.” He set the dagger on the coffee table. “How would she have known to steal it?”

  That was the million dollar question.

  Chapter Sixteen

  David stared at the photo and cursed under his breath. Ashley Storrey, CEO of Cybernet Securities. No denying this woman was the high priestess they’d tangled with, and judging by the last name, she was Heather’s sister.

  Heather lied to him.

  David shoved the
stab of hurt and guilt aside and nodded. “This is her.” He glanced at Kingsley. “How’d you find her?”

  “I can’t take the credit this time.” Kingsley shook his head. “Agent Henderson wisely wore a micro body cam. She brought me pictures, and facial recognition software did the rest.”

  Even though Agent Henderson had been hesitant to take on this detail, her undercover work was impeccable as usual.

  David headed for the door. “Send me the digital file once you complete it. I want to know everything about this woman down to her favorite cereal.”

  Once he was alone in his office, he took out his cell and started scrolling through his contacts. When he got to Heather’s name, he set the phone aside. This needed some finesse. Why would Heather be protecting her sister if she was the one attacking Drake?

  Hell, Heather had been the one who told him about a coven controlling spirits in the first place.

  She must not have known her sister was involved. Did she know now? Maybe she still didn’t believe it. That would explain why she was trying to defend her sibling. The key would be proving to Heather that Ashley was using magic to hurt others.

  There was more to it than just the coven.

  He had a hunch Ashley must be the head of the Digi Robins thievery ring. On the dark web everyone called the leader of the group Robin, but she wouldn’t use her real name anyway. And if Ashley was also the high priestess of the new coven, then she had the Flying Dutchman’s figurehead. King had traced the relic to the Serpent Society, and their antiquities were not for sale. The figurehead would’ve had to be stolen. Right up the Digi Robins’s alley.

  He put his cell back in his pocket. Time to connect the dots. He needed proof tying Ashley not only to the coven, but also to the Digi Robins. Then he could show Heather the truth.

  Normally he wouldn’t work so hard to prove a case to anyone other than a judge, but his gut warned him he’d need Heather on his team to bring down her sister. Ashley had an impressive grip on her magic, and with the figurehead in her possession she could torment her enemies and then send her Digi Robins crew to steal their valuables.