by Misty Evans
The caretaker, named Kieran, whose giant wolfhound looked about as old and grizzled as his master, emerged from the shadows near the door where Jon stood. The dog, whom he called Eamon, stayed right next to him. “The ladies are settled. Your friend is keeping an eye on them. Would you like to see the war room?”
What Jon wanted to see was Jaya. He wanted to be the one watching over her, not Colton, but he was in charge of the mission and that meant he needed to make sure the place was secure first and foremost. “I take it that’s where the security system and cache of weapons reside?”
“The security system, yes.” Kieran only nodded and started to walk toward the icy steps leading to a side door. He’d hidden their beat-up car in one of the barns and reassured Jon and Colton that while the maze of low stone walls to keep the sheep in didn’t look like the height of security, each contained rows of laser sensors and hid a multitude of smart weapons that could be fired from inside the castle via Kieran’s phone. “A few firearms as well.”
The world of intelligence and technology at work.
The wolfhound’s ears pricked and he didn’t follow the old codger to the stairs, instead issuing a low growl.
Jon swiveled to follow the dog’s gaze and cocked his own head to listen. The sleet had stopped and Jon picked up a soft, deep rumble. “Someone’s coming.”
The castle stood on high ground, a long, curving road leading to the main gate. Kieran ruffled the dog’s ears and brushed past Jon. “Lorcan’s bringing your supplies.”
“What supplies?”
Kieran gave Jon a curious glance. “Do you have wool between your ears, lad? Supplies—food, bottled water, bullets. You know, the basics.”
Jon followed him to the drive. “You don’t have bullets in the war room?”
“A few. This place is for torture, not defense, need I remind you.”
Torture. Great. “Who is this Lorcan?”
“A friend of your employer’s.”
Beatrice’s contacts must have made for a hell of a Christmas list.
So Lorcan, like Kieran, was someone Jon could trust.
Except, Jon really didn’t trust anyone, and Beatrice was a world away right now. Not to mention that added responsibility he had on his plate.
I’m going to be a dad.
The frozen landscape crunched under his boots as he watched a large van make the turn below. “Do you know why we’re here?”
The dog loped alongside its master. “No need for us to, right, Eamon?”
Kieran plodded ahead of Jon, quick on his feet for an old guy, and Jon let the subject drop. Obviously, Kieran, and probably this Lorcan fellow, were used to keeping their lips sealed about what went on in this place.
Looking back over his shoulder, Jon tried to ignore the creeping sense of doom looming over him. Not from the eerie shadows or the ghostly castle behind him. Nothing about this mission had been straightforward so far and he had the feeling he was missing a key fact. Maybe more than one. Someone had known the moment they’d landed in Ireland and had sent mercenaries after them.
But were they actually sent to kill Jaya? Whatever this cross was, it had attracted a lot of attention, but Beatrice was right—whoever wanted Jaya to hunt down her dad and return the cross shouldn’t be trying to kill her. After the van incident, he was more convinced than ever—
There’s more than one party involved.
The guys who’d kidnapped Finn were trying one tactic to get the cross back and there were others who quite possibly thought threatening Jaya would bring Sean out of his hiding place. Sean’s two kids, two different enemies targeting them.
Whoever the bastards were, they hadn’t tried to kill her per se. They had to have known she wasn’t in the van when they blew it up, and the men in the car had scared them good, but if they’d really wanted to take her out, they could have done it on that icy road, regardless of Colton’s driving skills.
Jon stalled near the drive, waiting for their new arrival to park. Under the cloudy night sky, the truck looked like a washed-out blue. The man driving got out, eyed Jon a moment, then not saying a word to Kieran, he went to the back and opened the latch. Eamon sniffed at the cargo and Lorcan scratched between the dog’s ears a second, as if they were old friends. It made Jon miss Nyx.
The man handed a large plastic container to Kieran. “Got everything on the list, including crackers and ginger tea for the pregnant one.”
Jon did a double take, closing the distance between him and the men in a couple strides. “How do you know she’s pregnant?”
Lorcan was bearded and wore a tweed cap pulled low over his bushy brows. “The Morrigan said to bring brown bread crackers and tea for the mam-to-be. Tea being the solution for every problem and all.”
Mam—mother? “Are you saying Beatrice already knew?” She had to be this Morrigan he referred to. Was it some kind of code name? “That’s who told you about the pregnant woman?”
Lorcan pushed the container into Kieran’s arms and said something in Gaelic that Jon couldn’t interpret. He was fluent in four languages, including his father’s native Lakota, but Irish Gaelic wasn’t one of them. Kieran chuckled and Lorcan got back in his van and drove away.
Kieran handed the heavy container to Jon. “Make yourself useful, lad. When you’ve finished in the kitchen, you can find me on the second floor, west side.”
He and the dog left Jon standing under the cloudy sky, the castle towering high into the fog.
The inside of the castle was about as updated as the outside, the kitchen a slight exception. A farmhouse sink, beat-up counters, and peeling paint added to the décor, but there was at least an electric stove and a fridge. Dingy lace curtains hung over the single window and the random overhead lights gave off a sickly yellow glow.
He set the container on the island countertop and started unpacking the assortment of dry goods, soda, cans of soup, honey, and marmalade. Wasn’t that a British thing? The crackers appeared to be homemade, wrapped in white cloth. Jon popped one in his mouth and it tasted slightly like wheat but had the consistency of cardboard. Maybe it was better with the marmalade or a piece of cheese.
Over the door hung a sign in the shape of a shamrock. All you need is a little good luck.
Boy, did he. So did Jaya.
If I didn’t have bad luck, I’d have no luck at all. Jaya’s words rang in his head.
Well, screw that. He might not be a lucky charm, but he would do everything in his power to bring her some good luck for a change.
Colton ambled in as Jon filled a kettle to heat water. “Food! Yes. I’m starving.”
“Do you know why Beatrice would use the code name Morrigan?”
“Because it’s Irish? Who understands anything the Queen B does?” He laid a gun on the counter and dug through the contents of the container. He pulled out a loaf of bread. “Is there a toaster?”
Jon got the water to heating and located a mug in one of the cabinets. None had doors, exposing their shelves except for under the sink where a pair of curtains hid the plumbing. He pointed to the slightly dented and rusty machine in the corner. “Is that one?”
Colton appraised the apparatus while unwrapping the bread. It smelled freshly baked and appeared to have raisins in it. “Yeah…looks like a electrical accident ready to happen. I’ll pass on toasting anything.”
He grabbed a knife and sliced the bread, offering Jon a piece. Jon’s stomach rumbled and he accepted it, hoping it tasted better than the crackers.
“So how are you?” Colton asked.
A totally normal question under most circumstances, except A) Colton never asked anyone normal questions; and B) they both knew what he was really asking.
“Fine. Good,” Jon answered, because shit, what was he supposed to say? A big, bad, former SEAL afraid of a baby? He stuffed his mouth with bread. “This isn’t half bad.”
Colton agreed, slicing a couple more pieces and dribbling honey on one before shoving the whole thing in his mouth. �
��I love wheat bread. Shelby hates it.”
Jon took a tea bag and tossed it into the mug. “Why am I not surprised?”
A chuckle. “We are nothing alike, that’s for sure. Kind of like you and Jaya.”
Back to that. “J and I have more in common than you might think.”
Done mincing words, Colton came right out with it. “You okay with the baby, then?”
“Of course.”
“Come on, man.” Colton dug through a cabinet and pulled out some plates. “You’re not a little freaked out? I would be.”
He added a little honey to the cup. His mother had often given honey to certain dogs suffering with digestion problems. “I’m completely freaked out. Doesn’t change anything. Jaya’s pregnant, I’m the father, and, no offense, but I really need to be having this conversation with her, since I just found out myself.”
“You haven’t talked to her yet?”
“I was a little busy finding us a new place to land.” The kettle whistled and Jon poured steaming water into the mug. “On my way to do that now.”
Colton put several slices of bread on a plate and handed it to him. “Don’t worry about security. I’ve been through the weapons cache, which is pretty sad, but it’ll do. I reviewed the security system, and I’ve got you covered. Go talk to Jaya, and if you need to get rid of Shelby, tell her I need her help.”
“You’re not going to harass me about screwing up? About Jaya in general?”
“You hitched your horse to that wagon, and while it pains me to see a good man go down under the heels of The Wicked Witch of Good Hope, all I can do now is pick up the pieces when the tornado is over.” He slapped Jon on the back. “Good luck.”
There was that word again. Luck. Jon added a handful of crackers to the plate of bread. “Thanks for the supportive speech. I feel so much better.”
Colton picked up his gun and stood in front of the door to the hallway. “What can I say? It’s a gift. I’m burdened with glorious purpose.”
“Okay, Loki.” Jon balanced the tea in one hand and the plate of bread and crackers in the other. “Burden your purpose out of my way.”
7
The fireplace generated heat, but it didn’t reach far into the bedroom. Jaya sat on a chair near the hearth, Shelby at a desk under the arched window.
“Not only treasure hunters have been searching for the O’Sullivan cross all these years,” Shelby said. “Interpol has too.”
Jaya heard footsteps coming down the hall. She knew their cadence. Jon.
They still hadn’t talked about the baby yet. When she’d blurted out about being pregnant in front of Colton and Shelby, his face had been neutral, like he’d known it all along but didn’t want to show what he was thinking.
Shelby, of course, had grilled Jaya with a million questions, none of which Jaya had really answered. She and Jon needed to talk before she went down all the rabbit holes Shelby wanted to, so she’d told her friend they weren’t discussing it for now. “Why?”
Jon appeared in the doorway, his hands full. He smiled at her and she returned it, accepting the cup he handed her.
“Ginger tea,” he said. The plate in his other hand was loaded with bread and crackers and he set it on a low, wooden table next to Jaya. “Beatrice ordered it up. Not sure you’ll like them.”
Shelby jumped up from her chair and screwed up her nose as she snitched a cracker. “Is that wheat bread?”
“Yep, with raisins, and these are brown bread crackers, I guess.”
Shelby made a face. “This tastes like nothing.”
“I can get some marmalade for you,” Jon said to Jaya. “There’s also honey and cheese.”
Bread and flavored water. This was what her world had been reduced to. “I’m actually kind of hungry.”
Jon’s eyes lit up like he’d won the lottery. “How about soup? There are cans of tomato and chicken rice with vegetables. I can heat some.”
Her heart melted a little. This man. “No tomato, but maybe some chicken rice in a bit.” She held out a hand to him. “Right now, I just need you.”
His smile grew. He grabbed a stool and plunked down in front of her. “How’s the tea?”
She sipped and it was pretty good. “Did you put honey in this?”
He shrugged. “Thought it might help with the nausea.”
“Are we discussing it now?” Shelby asked without missing a beat. “The baby?”
Jon shot her a look, and Jaya squeezed his hand. “Not yet. Why is Interpol looking for the cross?”
Shelby huffed slightly and returned to her chair. She’d set up a hotspot and had her notes on Sean spread out around her laptop. “Interpol believes the emeralds in the cross were stolen in the mid-1500s from a French countess who was a descendant of the Plantagenets. They might even be from the royal jewels.”
Jon wasn’t the only one who snapped his head around. Jaya’s mouth hung open. “Are you kidding me?”
Shelby turned the screen toward her. “I kid you not, girlfriend. It’s possible the emeralds were removed from a piece of the royal jewels and placed in the cross to conceal them in order to get them out of France. And that’s not the half of it.”
Jaya grasped the mug tighter. “Tell me.”
“The countess was the mistress of an Italian Cardinal who made a hard run at becoming Pope. It’s also possible the emeralds are some he removed from the Church and gave to her as a gift. No one’s exactly sure.”
Jaya’s voice came out a squeak. “So they could belong to the Holy Catholic Church?”
Shelby nodded. “Either way, the value of that cross could be even more than your dad imagined.”
“Holy shit,” Jon said.
Jaya mentally dittoed that. “Do you think he found out? My dad?”
“If he did, and was able to finally locate that cross, it could explain why your brother is in so much trouble at the moment.”
“And why someone is after you,” Jon said, rubbing a thumb over her palm. “I think there are two parties after that cross. One kidnapped Finn in order to get their hands on the cross and those emeralds, and the other is hoping to flush your dad out by threatening your life.”
Jaya squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. This just kept getting better and better. And of all times, her stomach growled.
Still holding the mug and Jon’s hand, she stood. “Shelby, could you excuse us for a moment?” She tugged Jon toward the door. “I need a bit of that soup.”
And some alone time with her…what was Jon exactly, besides the father of the baby?
Since finally blurting out she was pregnant, she’d realized part of her fear was simply not knowing for sure where they stood. Yes, he’d told her he would support her no matter what, but were they a couple? Was he her boyfriend? Was marriage in their future? All questions that had become very important to her.
Jon helped her down the stone steps and guided her to the kitchen. It wasn’t much to look at, but she’d lived in worse. She picked at a piece of peeling paint near the sink. “How…quaint.”
He snorted. “Is that what you call it?”
A little facelift was all it needed. “Are we safe here?”
“We are. I’m waiting on a call from Beatrice and then we’ll figure out our next move.”
“Thank goodness for Beatrice.”
“Around here, she’s apparently known as Morrigan.”
“Ah, the Great Queen.”
“Queen?”
“The Celtic goddess of war. My dad used to tell me stories about her. She supposedly had the power to influence the outcome of any battle and liked to shapeshift into a crow. Every time Dad saw a crow, he claimed she was hanging out with him, giving him aid. My mother’s family had stories about the crow as well and its mystical attributes like insight and prophecy. It’s significant to my family on both sides. Our family name, Hotti, means wind feathers on an arrow. Wind Catcher in other words.”
“That’s beautiful. Just like you.”
&nb
sp; She wanted to simply dissolve into him. “I’m pregnant.”
“So I heard.”
Their combined chuckles lifted her spirits. “You’re not running away, so I take it, you’re in.”
“Of course I am.”
She’d known it already, felt it in her heart, but it was good to hear him say it again, and she shifted toward him. “I had all these plans.”
He rubbed her back but didn’t mention any of his own. “You don’t have to give up your dreams. I’ll help you with the business. With the baby, your mom, all of it.”
“What about your life in DC? Your job?”
“I’ll find a job in Oklahoma. I’m sure Beatrice can help. Maybe Colton and Shelby too.” He pulled back slightly to look into her eyes. “Did you tell Beatrice, by the way? Before you told me?”
“About the pregnancy? Of course not. I would never do that.”
“She knows.”
Jaya shook her head and smiled. “I wasn’t exactly subtle when I was at Rock Star headquarters, and she did just have a baby. I’m pretty surprised Shelby didn’t figure it out, but then she’s never been pregnant and she’s distracted with the case.”
“Beatrice is psychic. She knows absolutely everything before we do.”
“Maybe she really is the Morrigan.”
Another round of soft laughter passed between them. “Maybe she is,” Jon agreed.
Jaya laid a hand on her belly and looked down. “Girl or boy?”
“I’m good with either.”
“The politically correct thing to say.”
He rubbed a thumb over her hand where it lay on her abdomen. “I’m serious. This is like…the scariest and coolest thing ever, all at the same time. If it’s a boy, I’m going to teach him everything I know.”
“And if it’s a girl?”
He smiled. “Same. She’s going to be 100% self-sufficient, just like her mom.”