I began unraveling the energetic pattern Connor was using to suck the energy from Siofra, and managed to drill it full of holes, bloody energy leaking out all over the place. I popped my eyes open long enough to check on Siofra’s physical condition. Her color was beginning to come back, and I let go of a sigh that had been riding hard in my chest.
Before I could close my eyes and get back to work, Connor caught my gaze full on, and sneered. Then she heaved a ball of ugly, oily energy at me.
I ducked, shoved Pierce out of the way, and covered him with my body. He let out a curse, rolling me underneath him.
Siofra screamed. Pierce hauled me to my feet, but not in time to stop Siofra from crashing to the floor.
Connor had dropped her to aim the full blast of her attack at me. Smart move, since I was the bigger threat.
I staggered under the onslaught, bumping hard against Pierce. “Siofra needs you. I’ve got this.”
He trusted me enough to let me stand on my own, and it filled me with strength. My mother’s formula pulsed in my veins. I was her daughter. This energy belonged to me, a genetic gift that couldn’t be stolen by the likes of Fion Connor.
Power surged under my skin, and I began to change the pattern Connor was designing. I manipulated the layers that deviated from the healing formula my mother had created, altering the intent from dis-ease to healing.
But Connor was fast. She followed after me, switching the pattern back to its lethal configuration with lightning speed.
I considered touching Pierce, using the love we shared to fight Connor, but thought better of it. She was still holding Lorcán and Annie at bay, and that was slowly draining her reserves. Mine were strong. I could afford to wait her out, and keep Tynan safe in the process.
A shuffle sounded behind me. I didn’t dare look, and chance losing my focus. Pierce would take care of any threat. I trusted him. That simple act of acceptance gave me a renewed blast of power.
And then an icy cold hand threaded through mine. “This is my fight, too, El,” Cait said.
It was like nothing I’d ever experienced. Cait held the genetic attributes of my mother’s formula that were designed for biologic warfare. I was sure of it. The energy was heavy, dense, and very, very strong. Close to what her mother was using to destroy us, but they weren’t an exact match.
But it was the exact opposite of mine.
There was another critical difference between Cait and her mother—Cait chose to use her gift for healing rather than destruction.
We made a damn formidable team. Our auras joined, meshed into an entirely new configuration, one capable of mirroring Fion’s energy.
In a flash, Cait and I constructed a wall, slammed it in front of Fion, and clung to each other with every ounce of strength we had.
The wall shook, cracked.
Adrenaline shot through me, through Cait. We heaved it into the wall, and every bit of the malevolence Connor threw at us, turned on her, crushing her where she sat.
I tried to break my connection with Cait, to protect her from the final moments of her mother’s life. No go. The Universe, or Cait—maybe both—wouldn’t allow it. We held our position until every drop of energy had seeped from Fion’s body.
And still we held on.
Minutes ticked by. Maybe hours. And then with a great whoosh of energy, Connor’s soul left the earth plane, leaving Cait and me in a tangled, exhausted heap on the floor.
Every bone and muscle in my body ached, and I longed to collapse into Pierce’s arms to just simply sleep. Later. There was Cait to see to, Annie and Lorcán to check on, and Siofra to get to a doctor or the hospital. Oh, and we were going to need one of Pierce’s cleanup crews for Fion Connor’s body.
She was dead. The woman who killed my parents. Gone.
I worked my way to my elbows and looked around. Annie and Lorcán appeared to be dazed, but were moving. Pierce was tending to his mother. And Cait… “Are you okay?”
She rubbed her forehead. “Yeah, just muzzy-headed. Did we do what I think we did?”
I glanced at Connor. “I’m sorry, Cait. She was your mother—”
“No. She was my incubator. That’s all. Siofra has been more mother to me for the past day than Fion Connor ever was.” She huffed out a sad sigh. “I’m sorry it had to be this way, but she wasn’t right in the head, El. It made her happy to hurt people, and it had to stop.
“I wish it could have been different. I’ll carry a scar from murdering my mother for the rest of my life, but it would have been immoral to allow her to continue killing. Siofra, Lorcán, Pierce, you—that sacrifice was too great. And it took both of us to stop her. Guns or knives wouldn’t even have slowed her down. You know that, because when you shot her, it only deterred her for a few hours. Blowing her up might have worked. But this was…I hesitate to say ‘right,’ but it was. It had to be us, together.”
“I know.” There really wasn’t anything else for me to say. But Pierce and I would be watching over Cait for the rest of her life. “You’re part of our family now.”
Pierce helped his mother up, steadied her, then walked her to Lorcán. When they were safely tending each other, he bent to help Cait up, gave her a hug, then said something to her in Gaelic that made her smile. My man was so damn perfect…in his own, unique, stubborn, arrogant, loving, imperfect way.
Annie held her hand out, pulled me to my feet. It took a minute to get my knees under control, and then the hunger set in.
Cait spilled the words running through my head. “I’m starving. And I need a shower.”
Siofra smiled. “Those things we can fix. Tynan, will you please see to getting this bit of rubbish out of my living room while I heat up some stew for all of us?”
He kissed her cheek. “On it.”
Lorcán trailed Siofra into the kitchen, and I suspected he wouldn’t be more than two feet away from her for quite some time.
“Want me to handle the cleanup, Pierce?” Annie asked.
He cut a sideways look at Cait. “No. I have a team coming in.”
Annie had followed his gaze. “Cait, why don’t we take showers while Siofra prepares our midnight snack?”
“Yeah, that sounds good. I feel…dirty. What we just did, it was the right thing, but all wrong, too. You know?” There was stark anguish in her eyes that only time would ease.
I tugged her into a hug. “It was the right thing. And it was the wrong thing. We have these elements in our blood that we didn’t ask for, and we’ll carry the weight of them through every day of our lives.” I set her away from me. “But we’re strong women, Cait. And we can handle this so much better than either of our mothers did.”
She sighed. “I hope you’re right. I’m only twenty, and there’s a whole lot of life left for me to get through. And there’s still my father to face. He’ll be looking for…” Her eyes strayed to the sofa. “Eventually, he’ll wonder where she’s gone off to. But could we put off dealing with him until tomorrow? I’m really tired.”
I patted her cheek. “Pierce’s team has him under guard, so yes, tomorrow will be soon enough. All of us need to take a break for food and sleep.”
Pierce wrapped his arm around my waist, nuzzled my ear. “Sleep, hmmm?”
Warmth spread into my cheeks. “Definitely. And nothing but.”
The mischief drained from his eyes, and he kissed me, so gentle and tender my heart ached with love for him. “When you’re ready, Everly.”
THIRTY-TWO
MORNING CAME WAY TOO FAST. I woke in Pierce’s arms, my head nuzzled against his chest, and with the steady beat of his heart tucked under my cheek. It was heaven. My body desperately wanted to share sex with him, but until my revenge was complete, I wouldn’t be a free woman. It was unfortunate that my hormones were extremely unhappy with my common sense. But Pierce deserved more, and so did I. But…maybe…a compromise…
Annie rapped on the bedroom door. “Sorry. We need you out here.” Her voice was stressed. Pierce and I hit th
e floor running, and were caught in a tangle in the narrow doorway. Pierce backed up, winked at me. “I love a woman who can beat me in a foot race.”
I wiped the grin off his face with a hasty kiss, and made it to the kitchen a good second or two before he did. The scent of yeasty bread, cinnamon, exotic spices, and coffee reached my nose, and my stomach rumbled.
Siofra’s peaceful smile was strained when she handed me a cup of her special brew. “It seems there were a few more underhanded activities going on than we expected.”
Someone had added a leaf to the kitchen table, and the papers I’d pilfered from Fion Connor’s car were spread out, covering most of the wooden surface.
Dark circles rimmed Cait’s eyes. “Fion worked for the KGB.”
Pierce downed a swallow of coffee. “Thought so.”
I whirled on him. “You didn’t tell me that.”
“Wanted to be sure.”
“And?” There was more, I knew it.
“And I haven’t located Fred yet. He has the intel.”
Annie stood, refilled her mug. “That possibility has been on our radar for a while, El, but this paper trail proves it. Connor was a traitor to her country, and did her best to jeopardize our CIA agents as well.” She rested her hand on Pierce’s shoulder. “Her remains, as well as Murchadh’s should be safely at Scotland Yard by this afternoon, Pierce. I didn’t phone with a heads-up. Thought you’d rather do it yourself. And they’ll want you—”
“That’s all minor compared to this.” Cait waived a handful of rumpled papers at me. “These were hidden in Eamon’s desk. I got them out before Fion arrived, and tucked them in my waistband. Yesterday I was too sick to look at them, and honestly I’d forgotten until I got in the shower last night. But this morning…”
Siofra slid a plate of fresh-from-the-oven cinnamon rolls to the center of the table, put one on a napkin, and handed it to Cait. “You need some…what do they call it on the telly? Comfort food.”
Cait brushed at the tears pooling in her eyes, then took a bite of the bun. “Read this,” she said, muffled by sugar, cinnamon and perfectly-cooked dough, handing the papers to me. “It explains stuff.”
The information was all there. M6342CN was a body my mother had autopsied, and she’d made a connection between spy dust and the biological weapon she was working on, and had taken samples. Before she had a chance to file her report, she’d been whisked to the Amazon to work with Connor and Grady—at Grady’s request. “But if Fion Connor was the double agent, why did Grady want—”
Pierce had been reading over my shoulder, and gently pushed me into a chair. He pointed midway down the page. “Eamon and Jayme Grady were brothers.”
A cold chill gripped my stomach. “Who’s Jayme Grady?”
His hand was warm and steady on my shoulder. “Your father.”
Black threatened my vision, then faded. “You’re saying Eamon Grady is my…uncle. I’m… How could you possibly know this?”
Cait handed me another page. “Their birth certificates.”
The words swam on the page. “This means I’m…”
“My cousin,” Cait’s tone was dry. “Which I think is great, um, except for the circumstances.”
My head pounded like I’d been hit with a sledgehammer. “But…I don’t see the connection. Surely my father wasn’t part of the KGB.” Panic pulsed through my words.
Lorcán reached across the table and patted my hand. “No, mo iníon. But Eamon apparently kept close tabs on your father. He was a greedy man. Word is he stole every penny from your paternal grandparents way back when they were both doing poorly.”
Siofra nodded. “Your grandfather was part of the Circle of Nine, and both Eamon and Jayme grew up with the teachings, just as I did. We didn’t know each other as children, but that connection is why Eamon sought refuge at Tuatha Dé Danann. He knew I couldn’t turn him away. It’s a covenant of the Circle.”
“I’m not getting it. Just how deep is the connection between this Circle group and the commune?” Some serious research on the Circle of Nine and Tuatha Dé Danann had just jumped to the top of my to-do list.
She shook her head. “Just through me. I believe it’s one of the reason’s Fion Connor attacked me last night. She assumed I was a student of Circle teachings, and that I might have cultivated some of the gifts attributed to them. I belong to the Templebryan Stone Circle, which was originally nine stones, but we only have four that are still standing. We practice a benign form of sorcery.”
It was beginning to click into place. “I wonder if Fion Connor studied something like that as well. I’ve been thinking she was a witch, only her practice was malicious rather than benign.”
“I don’t know anything about her, but there’s more here about both her and Eamon.” Siofra handed me a sheet of paper from the top of her stack. “Both Connor and Grady have been consuming various forms of what they referred to as The Formula since before they left the…” She glanced at Cait.
“Megiddo Project.”
“Yes.” Siofra nodded. “And they recorded the changes in their bodies and minds over the years. I only made it through a page or two of the data before we decided it was time for you to join us. It wasn’t right to delve into your history without your permission.” There was an implicit apology in her voice.
“It was my decision to start without you.” Annie frowned. “I thought it would be helpful to let you get some extra sleep this morning, and if the rest of us scanned through this information—”
“It’s okay, Annie. I need all the help I can get with this. And it sounds like a lot of the information should be turned over to US intelligence. The question is, which agency?”
“Fred.” Pierce—no room for question or argument in his voice.
I accepted his answer as reasonable, and moved on. “We should get dressed and visit my…Uncle Eamon.” His name stuck in my throat. That we were related, that he was guilty, even if it was only complicit, in my parents’ murder was…there were no words for my jumbled emotions.
Pierce nodded. “Yeah. Need to get this wrapped up. You can use the shower first. I need to make some calls before Scotland Yard gets bent.”
Yes! Escape. I really needed a break from the twists and turns my life had taken, and the shower was the perfect place to pull myself together. “Sounds good. This mess couldn’t possibly get any worse.”
All four of them stared at me, eyes wide. “Oh, damn. I just jinxed any possibility it won’t get worse, didn’t I?”
Four nods. I escaped to the bathroom.
Thirty minutes later Pierce, Annie and I were on the trail to Grady’s house. “Do we have a plan for this, or are we winging it?” I asked them.
Pierce tapped his phone. “Got word while you were in the shower that Grady is abusively angry. My team has the situation controlled, but requested backup. We’re it.”
Annie marched right up to the front door and knocked. “Let’s see if he invites us in.”
He didn’t. One of Pierce’s team opened the door, his inscrutable expression slipping to uninhibited relief. “Boss.”
“Take a break, both of you. We’ve got this.”
They were out the door before Pierce finished his sentence.
Prickles hit my neck. “Looks like we’re in for another interesting confrontation.”
“You have questions for him, right?” Annie asked.
“Yes. Wouldn’t we all like clarification on the details of the Megiddo Project?”
Annie frowned. “I can probably get it if I dig far enough into cyberspace.”
I snorted. “Why waste your time when he’s right here?”
She shrugged. “I’m going to do it anyway. I have to be sure what he tells us is truth or lies.”
An emotional weight dropped on my shoulders. “Yeah. Me, too. Thanks for having my back.”
Grady spotted us. “Who the hell…? Well, shit, if it isn’t little Everly Gray.”
How the hell did everyone know m
e? It was unnerving. “That’s me. And you’re the man who conspired with Fion Connor to murder my parents.” There was something very satisfying about getting right to the point.
“Your mother was fucking uncooperative.” He shrugged. “She needed to be eliminated.”
My temper exploded. “You son of a bitch.” I hauled back and planted my fist on his jaw.
Annie caught my arm before I landed the second punch. Whoa, but my fist hurt. I shook out my aching fingers.
Pierce grinned.
Grady stood, shoving his wheelchair aside. “That’s the last mistake you’ll make, you little slut.”
Pierce’s grin faded, and before I could blink, Grady was on the ground in a headlock with Pierce’s knee boring a hole in his spine. “You’ll want to apologize to the lady.”
“Not lady. My chattel.” Grady’s words were strangled, and he’d turned beet red.
There was something about his choice of words… I shivered, touched Pierce’s shoulder. “Let up a titch, okay? I have some questions.”
I backed up a few feet to get a better view of Grady’s face. “You look nothing like James Gray, but I understand you’re brothers.”
“Some brother,” he spat. “Let me rot away to nothing. Both Jayme and that bitch he married had the cure, wouldn’t share it. Made me a cripple. But I got back at them.”
I barely controlled the urge to kick him. Hard enough to break a few ribs. “And exactly how did you do that?” My tone was sugary enough to make a seven-year-old sick.
“Sold the bloody formula. Fion and I split the take. I bought this house, and she poured her share into that damned estate. Haven’t been able to get a stable batch for a few years. Buyers dried up when it didn’t work as advertised.”
He’d started to gasp for air. “Can we get him back in his wheelchair? He’s fading, and I want to know about Cait.”
a Touch of Revenge (Romantic Mystery - book 6): The Everly Gray Adventures Page 22