Legacy of the Watchers Series Boxed Set: Books 1-3

by Nancy Madore

  Her plate was full. Everyone seemed to think that it was going to take a miracle for her to pull this masquerade ball off as it was. She had a million little details to attend to, and she knew that she would never forgive herself if she overlooked even one.

  And as well, there was her relationship with Will to consider.

  As she slipped the filmy little nightie over her head, Nadia was distracted by a sharp sting of anticipation that instantly drove all other thoughts from her mind. For the moment, there was only one thing that interested her, and that was the pleasure to come.

  Nadia had never felt like this before. It was an entirely new experience for her to be so thoroughly engrossed in another human being. Everything else seemed to melt away when she was with him. And it wasn’t just the sex. Will was the first man to actually touch her heart. Though she wasn’t ready to analyze what this meant, she felt that she owed it to herself to at least explore where it might lead.

  Nadia stepped out of the bathroom and struck a pose against the door frame with one arm raised over her head.

  “A-hem!” she said, trying her best not to giggle.

  Will looked up from his laptop and let out a low whistle. He set the computer aside and approached her. “What did I do to deserve this?” he asked.

  Nadia put her arms around him and brushed her body up against his seductively. “You made me smile,” she said.

  “I did?” he asked between light, playful kisses. “When?”

  “Every time I think of you,” she replied, and then neither of them said anything else because their lips were occupied in an all-encompassing kiss.

  Without breaking the kiss, Will lifted Nadia off her feet and carried her to the bed.

  *

  Nadia felt curiously happy. She stretched her arms over her head like a pampered cat as she pondered the feeling. What was it that made a person feel such joy one minute, and such misery the next? Was it external circumstances that brought happiness, or was it something occurring within? Nadia felt that it must be a combination of both. But then again, on some level, she couldn’t help wondering if it wasn’t merely a state of mind. After all, she’d seen people experience happiness in some of the worst imaginable circumstances. It was almost as if they were making a choice.

  She sighed contentedly.

  “Are you okay?” asked Will.

  “Definitely,” she replied, snuggling up to him. “You?”

  “Mmmm.”

  Something in his tone made her lean up on one arm so she could look at his face.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  He shook his head. “Nothing,” he said, absently lifting a stray curl from her face. His eyes met hers. “And everything.” He smiled. “It’s hard to get used to not having Gordon around.”

  Nadia settled back down in the bed next to him. “Isn’t there anything you can do to get him his job back?” she asked.

  “Get him his job back?” echoed Will. “Heck no! I just miss him, that’s all.”

  “But he was good at his job, wasn’t he?” she persisted.

  “Mostly,” he conceded. “But Nadia, you saw what happened at the end there. Gordon lost it. He let his personal feelings get in the way of the job. He put all of us at risk.”

  Nadia didn’t want to talk about Gordon. “What will you and Clive do now?” she asked.

  “Same as we always did,” he said. “Our job is to hunt, capture and confine. That’s what we do. It’s what we’ve done for millenniums—since the Essenes first discovered the secrets of the djinn. We don’t make friends with them or try to understand them. And we certainly don’t make deals with them. What happened in Alaska only makes our objective all that much clearer.”

  Nadia was in no mood to argue the point, but she couldn’t help asking—“Doesn’t it bother you that T.D.M.R. has all that power?”

  “Yes, but it’s out of my hands,” said Will. “The Department of Defense has ordered an investigation of T.D.M.R.’s activities.”

  “But wasn’t it the Department of Defense who put the djinn there to begin with?” she asked.

  “No,” replied Will patiently, “it was one man—who is now dead.”

  “So who’s going to investigate them?”

  “I don’t know yet,” he said. “It’ll have to be someone with the same level of clearance as them…someone who’s familiar with their project and its objectives.”

  “So they’re investigating themselves,” concluded Nadia. “That’s what you’re basically saying, right?”

  “We have a system in place that works better than any in the world,” Will reminded her. “I have to trust it over some vigilante-style plot to save the world—originating from a creature that isn’t even fully human!”

  Nadia could not find fault with this argument. And yet, once again, she found herself caught up in the eternal dilemma between ‘right’ and ‘wrong.’ Her uncertainty seemed to confirm her belief that she should just stay out of it.

  “It must be strange, just you and Clive, without Gordon,” she conceded.

  “It is,” he said. “But it’s only for a few more days…until the new guy shows up.”

  “The new guy?”

  “Yeah—well, he’s new to us,” said Will. “Field’s been with the division a long time. They had him stationed overseas. He’s been waiting for an opening here in the states since he took the job.”

  “Field,” mused Nadia. “That’s an unusual name, isn’t it?”

  Will shrugged. “I guess so.”

  “What’s he like?” she persisted. “Have you ever worked with him before?”

  “I’ve never met him,” said Will.

  “That’s odd, isn’t it?” she asked.

  “Why do you say that?”

  “I mean, there can’t be very many of you out there, can there?” she asked.

  Will smiled. “We have branches all over the world,” he said. “Each one has its own territory. We have six branches here in the States alone—Clive and I work for the one in New York. Our territory covers the eastern states from New York to Maryland.”

  “You’re kidding!” exclaimed Nadia, genuinely surprised by this. “I wouldn’t have thought there were that many djinn out there.”

  “We don’t just chase djinn,” said Will. “Most of what we do falls under troubleshooting and categorizing. Basically, we get handed any potential threat that can’t be readily identified. With our clearance level, we’re able to work with most divisions of the DOD and other government defense systems around the world. Once we identify what category a threat falls under, we pass it off to the division best suited to deal with it. The only cases we actually keep are those involving the djinn.”

  Nadia suddenly recalled a remark that Clive made when they first discovered she wasn’t a djinn…something about turning her over to ‘goons’ in another division.

  “So how many of your cases end up being djinn related?” she wondered.

  “Not very many,” he said. “Under twenty percent. That’s why we try to make ourselves useful in other areas.”

  “Why is your headquarters in Saudi Arabia?” she asked.

  Will shrugged. “No reason, really, other than that’s where it’s always been, ever since the Essenes first started collecting the ancient secrets of the djinn after the flood.”

  “So where is it, exactly?” she asked. “I would’ve thought it was in Qumran, but that’s part of Israel now, isn’t it?”

  “The items hidden in the caves of Qumran were mostly copies of documents that were already out in circulation,” he said. “They were decoys, meant to throw everyone off the true hiding place of the Essenes. There were never any genuine apocryphal texts at Qumran.”

  “What about Lilith’s Book of the Dead?” she asked.

  “That didn’t come out of those caves in Qumran,” said Will.

  “You mean…you think it was planted there?”

  “Yes,” said Will. “It was a lure, to bring out Huxle
y’s tablet.”

  They were interrupted by the sound of Nadia’s phone going off. Nadia glanced at the clock as she leapt out of bed to answer it. It was eleven twenty-eight. Who could be calling at this hour? Picking up her phone, she saw that it was Clive. She glanced at Will before answering.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey there,” came Clive’s voice over the line. “How’s it going?”

  Nadia looked at Will again. He was watching her with a concerned look on his face. She held up a finger to indicate that this would only take a minute and then casually put a little more distance between her and the bed.

  “Uh, no, I’m, uh, not sure which file you’re talking about,” she stammered. She wasn’t sure why, but she didn’t want Will to know that it was Clive on the other end of the phone.

  “I get it,” said Clive. “You’re with Will. Please tell me I didn’t catch you in the middle of the dirty deed.”

  Nadia cleared her throat. “Ah…no.”

  “Good,” said Clive. “The last thing I need is for you to be thinking about me while you’re having sex with him.”

  Nadia wanted to strangle him. What in the world did he want? And why hadn’t she just acknowledged that it was him when she first answered the phone?

  “Unless it becomes absolutely necessary,” he added when she didn’t reply.

  Nadia tried to think of a discreet way to end the call. “Let me think about that and get back to you tomorrow,” she said as firmly as she could manage without being downright irate.

  She could hear Clive chuckling on the other end.

  “Was there anything else?” she demanded.

  “Just one more little thing,” he said. “I knew you’d be worried about it so I wanted to put your mind at ease.”

  “What is it?” she snapped.

  “The ring,” he said. “I’m holding it in my hot little hand.”

  Nadia froze. She had forgotten all about the ring, actually. “I see,” she said, and before he could say another word, she added—“Very good then…we’ll talk tomorrow,” and she hung up.

  Nadia stared down at her phone for several seconds before shutting it off. She was almost afraid to meet Will’s gaze, but she did so with a smile.

  “Sorry about that,” she laughed a little breathlessly. “It’s going to be like this right up until the masquerade ball, I’m afraid.” She felt a bit awkward as she slid back into the bed. He pulled her close, examining her face.

  “Is everything all right?” he asked. “You seem upset.”

  “Upset? No!” But she suddenly realized that her entire body was shaking. “No! It’s not…I mean, I—” She laughed, and even she could hear the hysteria in her voice.

  Calm down, she ordered herself. All she had to do was to come up with a logical explanation for her bizarre reaction to the phone call.

  “I am upset,” she admitted finally. He was watching her a little too intently and it was all she could do to keep her eyes from slinking guiltily away. “It’s…the masquerade ball.”

  “What happened?” asked Will. “Talk to me. Maybe I can help.”

  “It’s just…you know how famous people can be,” she said. “All egos! It’s always about them!” Though her words were false, her frustration was real. Why had Clive put her in this position?

  “I thought you said everyone was being extremely cooperative.”

  “They are!” she agreed. “Mostly. But you know…there always has to be that one person to stir up the pot.” She turned slightly, so that she was lying on her side, facing away from him.

  “I know what you mean,” he said, snuggling closer so she was enveloped in his soothing warmth. “And I know that your masquerade ball is going to be one for the books.”

  “How do you know that?” she asked.

  “Because I know you,” he said, squeezing her. “And I believe in you.”

  Nadia was glad that she had her back to him, so he couldn’t see her tears. She had lied to him. Why had she done it?

  She shut her eyes tight, as if to squeeze out her guilt with the tears.

  Damn Clive and that ring!

  So much for feeling happy.

  Chapter 8

  London, England

  Beth was exhausted and elated both at the same time. It had been a twenty hour ordeal, not counting shuttles and taxis to and from the airports. Her body wanted to sleep but her mind was wide awake. Not to mention that she had arrived smack-dab in the middle of a warm, sunny day. While she had been gearing up for the long winter ahead in Alaska, the people here in England were enjoying an Indian summer.

  Even more impressive than the weather was how friendly everyone was. For the first time since that horrible day that she lost Wayne, Beth felt (almost) cheery. The London people were tremendously outgoing, and they had the most engaging accent. She enjoyed listening to them talk. And they felt the same about her. Every time she opened her mouth she drew looks of interest, along with the eager inquiry; “Are you from the States?”—which was followed by the inevitable condolences for what happened in California and a litany of questions. Was she from there? Did she have family or friends there? And so forth.

  London was lovelier than anything she could’ve imagined, and the Winchester Pub Hotel, which was located in the northern region of the city, was exactly what she would’ve chosen if she had planned the trip. The building itself was an extraordinary piece of Victorian architecture that occupied the better part of a block. It seemed more like a very large inn than a hotel, with the friendly staff, and people chatting noisily in the lobby. The charming little rooms were simple and clean. Beth felt right at home in the casual atmosphere. And yet, she was a little surprised that Wayne had chosen it. Considering how much money he had (though Beth still couldn’t quite bring herself to believe that he actually had that much), she’d expected something a little more grand. Perhaps he chose the Winchester for its location.

  Having checked into her hotel room already, Beth found herself standing in the lobby, debating whether to go for a walk or to sit in the pub. The pub was an inviting option. It was a cheery place on a day like this. There was sunshine pouring in through glass doors that led out onto a courtyard, and large groups of people were clustered all around, talking and laughing. But Beth decided against it. If she went in now, she would most certainly order a drink and, no matter how hard she tried to pace herself, it was too early in the day for that. She approached the lobby desk.

  “How far is it to Highgate Cemetery?” she asked.

  “Not even a mile away,” replied the clerk. “Here,”—reaching for a map and circling two locations—“This is us… and here’s the cemetery, just a few blocks away. It’ll take you about ten minutes to get there by foot.”

  Beth stepped out into the bright sunshine. The street was alive with cars and pedestrians. She noticed that everyone was wearing jackets and smiled. The taxi driver who drove her to the hotel said it was sixty-one degrees outside. Sixty-one degrees! That was practically summer!

  She studied the map for a minute to get her bearings, then set out for the cemetery.

  Though London was much more populated than Alaska, this street, at least, was as neat as a pin. The houses were packed in close together, with little, square yards that were immaculately groomed, and a few small trees scattered about. There wasn’t a speck of litter on the ground. Nothing was out of place.

  But the streets were what impressed Beth most. They were so smooth! The streets in Alaska seemed like obstacle courses by comparison, with their frost heaves and potholes, and haphazard patch jobs. These streets were as slick as glass. Their names had been painted down the middle in large, white letters. And they were surrounded on all sides by wide, convenient sidewalks.

  As Beth followed the map down several side streets, she noticed that there were fewer houses. The trees, meanwhile, were growing taller and more numerous as she neared her destination. They cast long shadows that were so dense they seemed more like a presence. Wh
en, at last, Beth caught sight of the cemetery in the distance, she stopped. It was as if she had suddenly been transported a thousand years into the past.

  The entryway into Highgate Cemetery looked like a medieval castle. The looming edifice was constructed of gray bricks that were so old they had the look of tarnished silver. There were two tall, ecclesiastical windows that seemed to watch as Beth approached.

  The cemetery that lay just beyond this castle-like structure was bordered with a matching brick wall topped with wrought iron, which appeared to stretch out in all directions.

  Beth hesitated. Highgate was so big. Finding ‘Brisbin’—assuming he was even buried there—would be like finding a needle in a haystack. Not to mention that she had no idea what she was going to do with him, even if she did.

  Inside the building there were, perhaps, twenty people standing around. Their voices echoed in the large hall. A small group of them were huddled together, as if part of a tour. This was encouraging. Perhaps one of the tour guides could help her find the grave site she was looking for. She approached the information desk uncertainly.

  “May I help you?” asked a cheerful elderly woman. She appeared to be in her late seventies or early eighties, and Beth wondered if she was a volunteer. She wore a flowery blouse with a name-tag that read, ‘Olive.’

  “I don’t know,” replied Beth, frowning slightly. “I’ve come a long way and I’m not even sure that what I’m looking for can be found.”

  “Ah, you’re American!” exclaimed the woman approvingly. But her initial pleasure was immediately replaced with an expression of sympathy. “We’re all so sorry about California,” she said, clucking her tongue. “What a terrible tragedy!”

  “Yes, it is,” agreed Beth.

  “Did you lose any of your loved ones in the disaster?” Olive wanted to know.

  “No, I was very fortunate,” replied Beth.