Boxed In (Decorah Security Series, Book #16): A Paranormal Romantic Suspense Novel

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Boxed In (Decorah Security Series, Book #16): A Paranormal Romantic Suspense Novel Page 19

by Rebecca York

“Yes. We belong together.”

  He was moving his lips over hers again when a knock sounded at the door, and she felt her cheeks turn pink. Quickly she sat up and smoothed her hand over her hair.

  Luke sat up more slowly. “Yes?” he called out.

  “May I come in?” Father Delanos asked from the other side of the door.

  Luke glanced at Olivia, and she nodded.

  “Yes,” Luke answered.

  When Father Delanos walked into the room, he looked from her to Luke.

  “You brought him back to us,” the priest said.

  “Yes,” Olivia murmured.

  “You were brave to undertake that mission.”

  “I had to do it.”

  He nodded, then turned his head toward the other occupant of the bed. “And now I must speak to you, Zabastian,” the priest said, his voice stern.

  The warrior's expression turned rigid, and she reached for his hand, holding tight as the priest continued speak.

  “You almost took another man’s life by jumping into the fire.”

  Luke’s lips firmed, and his chin jutted upward. “I’m sorry for that. But you gave me no choice.”

  Olivia braced for a further rebuke. But the priest looked sad—and abashed. “We made a mistake with Zabastian, and I want to apologize.”

  She caught her breath in astonishment, then stole a glance at Luke, and he looked as confounded as she felt.

  “Zabastian was a loyal warrior,” Father Delanos continued. “And we used him for our own purposes. We should have realized that we were asking him to take on more than any soul could endure.”

  “Yes,” Luke whispered, but she sensed both men answering.

  “You are free of us. I hope the time you spend with Luke Garner will be good for you. I hope it will help make up for your long punishment.”

  “Thank you,” Luke whispered. He straightened his shoulders. “What about the Poisoned Ones?”

  “They are dead,” the priest said.

  “You killed them?” Olivia whispered.

  “No. The men who sent them to steal the box punished them for their failure.”

  “Who are they exactly?” Olivia asked, because all this time she’d been wondering who was really trying to kill them.

  “Men who are the ancestors of priests who were part of our society. Some of them wanted power, and they tried to take it from us. They were expelled from the temple and went out to live in the world, marrying women who would continue their line. Over the years, they and their descendants have tried to acquire the potency of the box when we have sent it from the temple into the world to regenerate its power. But they have never been successful. Thanks in part to Zabastian. And lucky for us, because they don’t understand that if the chest stays too long outside the temple, it will discharge its energy—to very bad effect.”

  Olivia winced, then asked, “What happens now that you don’t have Zabastian working for you?”

  “We have decided on another method. The younger ones of us will draw straws. And one will volunteer to guard the box. But for no longer than a hundred years.”

  “Only a hundred years,” Olivia murmured.

  “Shortening our lives is a small price to pay to keep the box safe. Our order is important to the world. To keeping the peace among the factions of mankind.” He smiled. “Or, I guess the way you would say it in this age is ‘humankind.’”

  “Yes.” She gave him a questioning look. “Where will you keep the box?”

  “It must be in a place where men—people—gather. We will move from city to city. But not yet. It can stay safe here for a decade before we must make other arrangements.”

  Olivia swallowed. “When Zabastian leaped into the fire—did he disrupt the power of the box?”

  “Only a little. He waited until the end.”

  Beside her, Luke let out the breath he must have been holding. She glanced at him, seeing the relief on his face. Then she turned back to the priest. She knew she was asking a lot of questions, but she also knew this was her only chance to get answers to some of them.

  “And when you’re in the temple, how do you keep up with what’s going on in the outside world?”

  “Now we watch your television and listen to your radio. And sometimes we bring other media into the temple.”

  She nodded.

  “You must leave us soon.”

  Olivia felt a dart of alarm. Since returning from the tunnel, she hadn’t been thinking about the outside world. Now she remembered they still had a problem. “What about the police?” she asked.

  “I have adjusted their memories. They no longer remember that they were looking for Olivia Weston and Luke Garner.”

  “But our friends from Decorah Security will remember?” Olivia asked.

  “You trust them with that knowledge?” the priest asked.

  “Yes.” Luke answered.

  “Then your friends will remember,” Father Delanos said. He looked from her to Luke. “It is time for you to leave us. The temple will not be in this location for much longer.”

  “Where will it be?”

  “Where it is needed.”

  “Oh.” She climbed off the bed, and Luke came around to her side, reaching for her hand again. She looked down at her dress and saw that it was smudged with ashes. So was Luke’s suit.

  The priest led them down the hall to a long room with two doors. “Walk through there,” he said.

  They followed directions, and when they came out the door at the other end, their clothing was as clean and fresh as when they’d put it on.

  “A neat trick,” Olivia murmured.

  “They have a lot of neat tricks,” Luke said.

  The priest gave them a broad grin, then led them up the stairs and down the hall toward the front door of the temple.

  Several of the priests were waiting near the large wooden doors, including the two men who had pulled Luke from the fire. She was relieved to see they had recovered.

  She embraced both of them. And to her surprise, so did Luke.

  “Thank you for your bravery,” he said.

  “We have met you here before. And we have been impressed with your loyalty and your courage. We couldn’t leave you in the fire,” one of them said, his eyes moist.

  Luke looked embarrassed.

  Then Father Delanos began speaking. “We want to reward both of you for your service to us.” With a smile, he handed the briefcase back to Luke.

  “What are you giving us?”

  The father’s smile widened. Apparently he was feeling pleased with himself, now that the crisis was over. “Something that will be useful out in the world.”

  “Thank you,” Luke said.

  Olivia added her thanks. The priest pulled the heavy door open, and she looked out into the ordinary Baltimore street. It had a feeling of unreality. They’d come here at night. It was morning again. And her eyes widened as she saw an SUV parked across the street. Brand Marshall was sitting behind the wheel. He looked toward the open doorway, then climbed out and raised his hand in greeting.

  “He can see us,” Olivia whispered.

  Father Delanos stared at the lone figure. “He is not like other men.”

  “What do you mean?” Olivia asked.

  “He’ll have to tell you himself—when you know him better,” Luke answered.

  Brand didn’t approach, but he leaned against the car, staring at them.

  “It is time for you to leave,” the priest whispered.

  “Thank you,” Olivia said, turning and embracing him. “Thank you for letting me bring Luke back.”

  “I am glad it worked out for you,” he said, sincerity ringing in his voice.

  They walked through the doors and down the steps. When Olivia looked back, the temple was gone.

  Brand walked toward them. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes,” she answered. “Thank you for being here.” She touched his arm. “You could see the temple.”

  “Yes. My
eyes are different from those of most men.”

  They climbed into the SUV and buckled up. When he started off, Luke asked. “Are we going back to that . . . private hospital?”

  “No. We figured you might need some R and R after whatever happened in there.”

  Luke sighed. “Right.”

  “I’m driving you to the Ritz-Carlton, where you can decompress. You’ve got a private apartment. The refrigerator’s stocked with food, and the linens on the bed are fresh. You’ve got a hot tub and a home gym. And the movie theater has all the latest DVD’s. When you’re ready, you can tell us about your adventures.”

  Olivia felt overwhelmed. “Thank you so much,” she murmured, then thought of something that had slipped her mind with everything else she’d had to think about. “What about Carl Peterbalm?”

  “He believes he was in the hospital being treated for an injury during a robbery.”

  “Did he really buy that?” Olivia asked.

  “It appears so.” Brand made a dismissive sound. “He doesn’t know it yet, but he’s going to be facing charges for importing stolen property. And of course, when he has to explain what hospital he was in, he’s not going to be able to find the place.”

  She felt her mouth harden. “Too bad for him. He’s overdue for a lot of bad news. Even though that means I’m going to be out of a job. There’s no way I could go back to that office now.

  “I don’t think you have to worry about that,” Luke muttered.

  Her gaze shot to him. While she’d been talking to Brand, Luke had been looking inside the briefcase. He reached in and pulled out a neat stack of hundred dollar bills.

  Her eyes widened as she stared at them.

  “That’s just one stack,” Luke said, his voice hoarse with amazement.

  “Where did it come from? Is it . . . stolen?”

  “Over the years, the Moon Priests have made a lot of investments. They’re rich,” Luke said, only she knew that Zabastian was the one answering the question.

  He pulled out a folded piece of paper, read it and handed it to Olivia. “It says there’s a million dollars in the briefcase. And half the money is yours.”

  “What?”

  “A million dollars,” he said. “I guess he wasn’t kidding. They were grateful for our service.”

  She dragged in a breath and let it out. “How am I going to explain that much money?”

  “We can make it look like a grant from the Decorah Security Foundation,” Brand answered. He laughed. “For a small charitable donation, of course.”

  “Yes,” Olivia answered, still trying to wrap her head around the sudden change in her fortunes.

  She looked at Luke. “I can open my own shop.”

  “Yes.”

  Brand spoke to Luke. “And while we’re discussing business, Frank has offered you a job with the security team, if you’d like to switch from IT.”

  Luke looked stunned. “You know I’d like that.” His gaze turned inward. “Zabastian likes it, too. And he’ll be an asset in the new position.”

  “Yes,” Brand agreed.

  Olivia leaned back, her head spinning, trying to take it all in.

  Brand arrived at the luxury hotel. “They have your reservation at the front desk.”

  Olivia climbed out. She hugged Brand, then waved good-bye before stepping into the lobby with Luke.

  Check-in was speedy, and as soon as they were in their private suite, he took her in his arms, hugging her to him.

  “Olivia. Oh Lord, Olivia. I love you so much. I never thought I could end up with a woman like you.”

  “I’m the lucky one,” she said, raising her head so that their lips could meet. After a long, frantic kiss, she realized that there was no need for panic. They had all the time in the world to enjoy being alone together—without killers chasing them. And without the weight of Zabastian’s awful responsibility.

  Luke lifted his head and grinned at her, and she knew he’d figured out the same thing.

  “We’ve got a lifetime to love each other. Do you think you can stand being married to me for a hundred years?”

  “That long?”

  “I don’t know for sure.”

  “But that was a marriage proposal—right?” she clarified.

  “Right.”

  She hugged him tightly, then felt overwhelmed again. She had Luke Garner—and Zabastian, too, the warrior who had changed her life and Luke’s. But she wasn’t just thinking about herself and the man in her arms.

  “Suddenly, I have so much. Not just for us. I can make my mom’s life better, too.” She looked at Luke. “She’s going to love you—like the son she never had.”

  “I hope I don’t disappoint her.”

  “Never. She wanted me to marry a nice guy and settle down. And she’s going to appreciate all your good qualities. And bake cookies for you. And tell you all the family stories.” She laughed. “Over and over.”

  Luke looked stunned. “You’re giving me more than I ever expected. After such a long time of loneliness.”

  The words made her conscious again that Zabastian was still with them. Back in the tunnel, when she had asked him to stay in the background, he had resisted that request. She understood why.

  He was a part of Luke now, and he always would be. Which was all right, because she knew the warrior had changed Luke in very fundamental ways. She had admired him before and been attracted to him. Now he had hidden qualities that he could draw on for the rest of his life.

  “We have a lot to discuss—like where I’m going to have my shop. I assume we’re going to live closer to your office.” She paused. “I don’t even know where that is.”

  “Beltsville. Not far from Laurel. That might be a good place for an antique shop.”

  She nodded, thinking they didn’t need to discuss details now. Instead she gave him a teasing grin. “So what do you want to do first? Order hot chocolate from room service?”

  He bent to nibble at her ear. “Maybe we can find out what the bedroom looks like before we get into food.”

  “Good idea,” she answered, her heart singing as they walked through the door hand in hand.

  THE END

  AFTERWORD

  Thank you for purchasing Boxed In, I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I loved writing it.

  If you enjoy my books, do me a huge favor. Please go back to your favorite online book store, and leave an honest review. Authors live and die by their reviews. The few extra seconds it takes are really appreciated. Thank you!

  PRAISE FOR REBECCA YORK

  Rebecca York delivers page-turning suspense.

  —Nora Roberts

  Rebecca York never fails to deliver. Her strong characterizations, imaginative plots and sensuous love scenes have made fans of thousands of romance, romantic suspense and thriller readers.

  —Chassie West

  Rebecca York will thrill you with romance, kill you with danger and chill you with the supernatural.

  —Patricia Rosemoor

  (Rebecca York) is a real luminary of contemporary series romance

  —Michael Dirda, The Washington Post Book World

  Rebecca York’s writing is fast-paced, suspenseful, and loaded with tension.

  —Jayne Ann Krentz

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  A New York Times and USA Today Best-Selling Author, Rebecca York is a 2011 recipient of the Romance Writers of America Centennial Award. Her career has focused on romantic suspense, often with paranormal elements.

  Her 16 Berkley books and novellas include her nine-book werewolf “Moon” series. KILLING MOON was a launch book for the Berkley Sensation imprint. She has written for Harlequin, Berkley, Dell, Tor, Carina Press, Silhouette, Kensington, Running Press, Tudor, Pageant Books, and Scholastic.

  Her many awards include two Rita finalist books. She has two Career Achievement awards from Romantic Times: for Series Romantic Suspense and for Series Romantic Mystery. And her Peregrine Connection series won a Lifetime Achie
vement Award for Romantic Suspense Series.

  Many of her novels have been nominated for or won RT Reviewers Choice awards. In addition, she has won a Prism Award, several New Jersey Romance Writers Golden Leaf awards and numerous other awards, and she is on the Romance Writers of America Honor Roll.

  Contacts

  Rebecca York loves to hear from readers!

  Web site: http://www.rebeccayork.com

  Email: [email protected]

  Twitter: @rebeccayork43

  Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/ruthglick

  Blog: http://www.rebeccayork.blogspot.com

  Sign up for Rebecca York’s Newsletter to get all the scoop on Rebecca’s SEXY ROMANTIC SUSPENSE at http://rebeccayork.com

  COPYRIGHT

  Published by Light Street Press

  Copyright © 2016 by Ruth Glick

  Cover design by Earthly Charms

  Boxed In is adapted from Return of the Warrior, by Rebecca York,

  Harlequin Intrigue 43 Light Street Series, 2007.

  All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, scanning, or other—except for brief quotations in critical reviews or articles, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

 

 

 


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