by Sharon Wray
It was dark, and rain puddled on the floor. She was in her manor, and the men stood between her and the only usable exit.
“Sir?” A man in black combat pants stood in the front doorway, a rifle in his arms.
“What’s the ETA on the helo?” the man on the stairs asked.
“An hour. Possibly less.” The soldier left.
She turned her daddy’s gold ring on her thumb. There was no point in running. She’d no weapons or shoes. Armed men patrolled her property. She had to go on the offensive. “What are you doing in my home?”
Deke, Eddie, and the undertaker shifted their lights to her. She lifted her arm until they dropped the beams.
Deke smiled. “I was just suggesting one of us should kiss you awake.”
She fisted her hands and raised her chin. “Try it, and you won’t eat for a week.”
Eddie laughed. “Just like her daddy. Mean. As. Shit. But I’ll hold her down for you. Always wanted to tame that bitch.”
The undertaker coughed. “It’s time to proceed.”
Deke and Eddie shone their beams on the man who came off the stairs. When he faced her, he hit his chest with a fist and bowed. “I am Balthasar.”
Except he wasn’t. The hair on her arms raised, and words stuck in her throat. He’d replaced his Italian suit with black combat pants, T-shirt, and boots. Delacroix was Balthasar.
How was that possible? How had she not suspected?
Because, she thought ruefully, she’d needed the money and had been determined to save her business on her own.
“I apologize, my lady. ’Tis an awful thing to lie to a beautiful woman.”
She pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes. She’d made such a mess of things. “What do you want from me?”
“What I’ve always wanted. To destroy Romeo.”
She opened her eyes and reached for a baluster. “Rafe has returned to the Fianna. You’ve nothing to fear from him.”
“I’ve never feared Romeo. I just want to see him destroyed.”
“By killing me?”
“I’m not going to kill you.” Balthasar’s smile reeked of condescension. “Show her,” he said to the undertaker.
The undertaker took a box out of his briefcase and handed it to her. It was made of polished oak, and yew tree carvings decorated the top. She lifted the brass clasp and opened the box. A crystal vial lay nestled within the velvet interior, which had been designed to hold two vials.
Balthasar took the box, snapped it shut, and gave it back to the undertaker. “It was in the statue of Gabriel. Hidden in your shop the entire time.”
“Are you sure whatever’s in that vial is still viable?” She wiped her hands on her dress. “It’s three hundred years old.”
“I am.”
“Get to the good part, B.” Eddie’s light wobbled. “The good part.”
“I already know,” she said. “You’re selling the vial. So why do you need me?”
“You know what’s in that vial?”
“Some kind of poison or biological agent that’s probably evaporated by now.”
“The poison derived from Anne’s Lament, the real name of your lily, is suspended in oil from the yew tree. I’m confident the contents are intact.”
“Yew tree oil is poisonous and volatile.”
“It’s stable enough,” the undertaker said. “Ancient Celts used it to coat the ends of their arrows. If the arrow didn’t kill quickly, the poison would kill slowly.”
They were all crazy. “What do I have to do with this?”
“I need the land where your lily grows.”
“It’s not cultivated,” the undertaker said. “It’s important to say it’s not cultivated.”
“My lily hasn’t been seen on my land since I was a child.”
Balthasar waved his arm. “It grows wild in the back meadow and the cemetery.”
The undertaker opened his briefcase again and pulled out the King’s Grants and signed copies of her deeds. He laid them on top of the case and took a pen out of his jacket. “Your grants have three stipulations that must have been maintained to remain valid. First, the lily known as Anne’s Lament may never be cultivated on the properties.” He lowered his glasses and stared at Balthasar. “While there’s anecdotal evidence of wild lilies, there’s been no cultivation.”
She frowned at him. “The second stipulation?”
“The property must never, at any time, have been out of the hands of the Capel family—male or female. According to my law firm’s research—”
“You’re a lawyer?” Why was she not surprised?
“I specialize in real estate and contract law.” The lawyer adjusted his glasses. “At no time has the land passed out of your family’s hands.”
“My father put Rafe’s name on the deeds.”
“Within a trust. And your ex-husband could never have sold without your signature. Therefore, it’s still within the legal framework of the stipulation.”
“And the third?”
“A Capel must live on the land at all times.”
She smiled at Balthasar. “I haven’t lived here since I got married, and my father’s been gone almost a year.”
Balthasar smiled back. “You make money from tours and Boudreaux’s restaurant. You pay taxes, receive rent, and reimburse Grady Mercer to maintain docks and roads.”
“I don’t pay much. Have you seen the docks and roads?”
The lawyer coughed. “The condition of the property is sufficient.”
She paced the room, avoiding the puddles, her bare feet feeling the give of the rotted wood beneath. “You sell the vial to the buyer, but how does he get the land?”
Balthasar nodded. “He understands the stipulations and is willing to lease the property.”
“From me?”
“From both of us.”
She stared at the lawyer. “What kind of contract law?”
“Marriage and family.”
She laughed. She couldn’t help it. “I’m supposed to marry Balthasar so he can lease the property to your client?”
The lawyer nodded.
She faced Balthasar directly. “Why not let the buyer reengineer the poison in a lab?”
“He needs the vial’s contents and a constant supply of live lilies. Unfortunately for you, your lily only grows on this Isle. Something about phosphates and a rare bird.”
“How do you know that?”
“My buyer’s been stealing wild lilies for years to propagate and replicate the poison, with little luck.”
Deke laughed. “Haven’t you been paying attention? People are dropping like flies on horse shit all over town. The heroin and street pills giving people seizures? It’s a trial run from lilies Escalus stole nine months ago.”
“Nine months ago?” She swallowed, and her throat burned. “That’s when Eugene Wilkins died in my back meadow.”
Eddie smiled. “Got in Escalus’s way. As did Legare and your daddy. Oh, and apparently your mother-in-law as well. Although that wasn’t a Fianna kill. You can thank Balthasar’s new boss for that one.”
The floor wobbled. Or maybe it was her legs. “You expect me to marry you and then let you sell that vial and my lily to a monster who’ll turn it into a weapon? The same monster who killed my mother-in-law?”
“Yes.” Balthasar nodded to Deke, who left the room. Now they were down to two flashlights. “And once we have a child, I’ll kill you.”
This was so insane. She paced the uneven floor, fisting and unfisting her hands. “There’s no way I could disappear without people noticing.”
“Your husband left you. The scandal when people learn you’ve been stripping because you’re broke will destroy your business. Calum and Philip will understand if you go to Europe.”
“I have friends.�
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“Walker and White Horse? When their unit goes to trial, they won’t remember you.”
“People will notice if we’re living out here.” Grady, at least.
“We won’t. We’ll collect tourist dollars, pay taxes, and let Grady keep up the land. We’ll return to New Orleans, and the law firm will handle the rest.”
“I won’t go with you.”
Deke reappeared and laid something wrapped in a blanket on the floor. “This should keep the bitch in line for you.”
Samantha. Juliet knelt. Samantha’s eyes were closed, but her breathing was steady and her pulse strong. “What did you do to her?”
“What I was told.” Deke licked his lips. “I wanted to do more.”
“Touch her again, and I’ll beat you with a shovel until you cry like a baby.”
“Bring it, Jade.”
Balthasar placed a hand on her shoulder, and she shrugged him off. It was only then that she saw his misericord. “If you don’t agree to come with me tonight, I’ll kill her.”
“You’ll have no leverage. You can’t lease the land without me, and you can’t kill me.”
“After Samantha, I’ll kill Philip. Calum. Pops.”
“Once Rafe finds out, you’ll be sorry you ever spoke my name.”
“He’s returned to the Prince. You’ll never see him again.”
“Face it, Jade,” Deke sneered. “You’re alone. No one to help. No way out.”
“Then why bring me out here if we’re just leaving town?”
Balthasar pointed to the undertaker. “That box holds two vials, and one of the windows shows Anne holding two vials. That means one is missing. You’re going to help me find it.”
“Why would I do that?”
“Supposedly, one drop of the poison is enough to kill. There’s enough to spare if I give one drop to Samantha.”
Now Juliet understood. The other vial was the antidote.
Chapter 46
An hour later, Rafe made it to the back of the manor. As suspected, the SAT phone didn’t work this far in.
He’d run the entire way with Gerald’s sniper rifle strapped to his back, a nine-mil in his waistband, a knife in his boot, and a machete on his hip. He appreciated the cooler night air clearing his head. It was always this way before killing a man. He needed time and space to process the horror of who he was and what he had to do.
The full moon hid behind storm clouds, and he whistled low. No answer.
Since he couldn’t cross the thickets or jump the mud flats, he found the tree near Juliet’s balcony and climbed. When he landed on the balcony, it swayed beneath his weight. He knelt on one knee, a hand pressed to the floor. The shaking timber felt like a giant exhale, as if the manor was relieved to see him.
Holding his breath, he slipped into the hallway, avoiding rotted floorboards. He didn’t hear any unusual sounds, but he knew she was here. He could feel it.
When he reached the balcony over the foyer, he saw Deke standing near Samantha. An armed man guarded the front door. Another stood on the porch. Rafe retreated to the front bedroom. After taking off his T-shirt to clear away broken glass on the front-facing window, he set up his position. He was locked, loaded, and ready.
* * *
Balthasar gripped Juliet’s arm and pulled her around the dining room. Her feet stung from tiny cuts and splinters, her head ached, and her lips were cracked. “Where is it?”
Balthasar yanked her arm. Pain shot from her shoulder to her wrist. “I don’t know.”
He threw her to the ground, and she skinned her knees.
Eddie used a flashlight to illuminate the stained-glass windows. “Freaky.”
Balthasar dragged her to the window with Anne handing the box of two vials to the men. “Where. Is. It.”
“I don’t know.”
He slapped her, and her ears rang. “Look harder.”
“It’s too dark.”
Balthasar motioned to Eddie, who dropped the light to the lower part of the window.
She remembered the vials and the warrior, but she didn’t remember Anne’s depiction. In this window, unlike the others, Anne wore a Roman-style dress with her hair in ringlets. Two trees stood in the background, each sending out vines that wrapped around Anne’s bare feet and ankles as well as her bare arms from her shoulder to her wrists.
Juliet touched the glass oak leaves entwining Anne’s feet. The leaves around her arm were from a yew tree. Similar to the leaves carved on the mantel. The newel posts.
And drawn on her map.
Daddy, she spoke silently and turned his ring on her thumb. Help me. Studying the band, she realized the worn engravings weren’t words. They were oak leaves.
“Sir.” An armed man appeared, his rifle cradled. “ETA fifteen minutes.”
Balthasar yanked her hair again. “Ten minutes or Samantha dies.”
“I don’t need ten minutes,” she said confidently. “It’s upstairs.”
* * *
Nate whistled low, and Pete responded from the other side of the open field. The house sat three hundred yards on his left on a small hill. Rafe had been right about how hard the trip would be and wrong about the number of armed men. Two protected the house while three more walked the perimeter between the woods and the lawn.
Although it was dark, it would be foolish to cross the area without cover. Even more so if the full moon appeared. Nate whistled again. No response. Garza’s team hadn’t arrived.
Nate adjusted the rifle against his shoulder and felt for his nine-mil at his side. He hated having no comms and borrowed weapons. He would’ve given anything for a shoulder-mounted grenade launcher and decent ear radios.
Grady knelt next to him. An owl hooted near the house. “Ain’t no owls sounding off this time of year. If they ain’t breedin’, they ain’t hootin’.”
“Huh.” Nate used binoculars to scan the house. So much harder without night vision. “Watch the upper floor, toward the left end.” Flashes of light, like a punch of a laser pointer, shone in short dashes and dots. Morse code. “Run. Cover. Oorah.”
Grady chuckled.
“Grady? Were you a Marine?”
It was too dark to see a smile, but Nate heard the pride as Grady said, “Task Force Ripper. Me, Pops, and Gerald. We signed up together and fought together.”
Operation Desert Storm. Diversionary battle in Kuwait along the Persian Gulf while the main Marine force attacked from behind. A hundred-hour blood bath.
“Guard’s coming,” Grady whispered. “And the moon’s coming out.”
The armed man passed ten feet in front of them. The moonlight showed the man all in black with no insignia or markings and heavy body armor. Private security all the way.
Once the guard was out of sight, Grady took off and Nate followed. They moved quickly and silently until a guard appeared on Nate’s left. A shot ripped through the night, taking out the soldier. Thank you, Rafe.
Grady stopped suddenly. “Mud pits.”
A river of mud surrounded the house. One of the perimeter guards yelled behind Nate, and he turned just as Rafe’s sniper bullet took the second guard down.
“Cover me.” Grady dragged the dead body over and shoved it into the mud. Crosswise. “Come on!”
The mud was thick and the body dense, so they were able to make it with a leap at the end. Nate had done a lot of things in his years as a Special Forces soldier, but he’d never crossed a human bridge. This wasn’t something he needed to remember.
The third perimeter guard fired, and another sniper shot dropped him. Nate kept running, he and Grady jumping over the body. Grady headed toward a window while Nate met Pete in the bushes below the porch. Pete was breathing heavily and shouldering his weapon. Pops was hunkered down with a pistol between his hands, his gaze on the open area behind them.
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br /> They’d all changed into combat pants and T-shirts covered in infrared tape before this adventure. Except for Pops. He wore his overalls.
“Where are Garza and the sheriff?” Nate asked.
“Not here yet,” Pete said. “We found the boat Balthasar and his goons used. Tommy’s protecting our ride home and disabling theirs.”
Grady appeared, out of breath. “Two guards in the manor, along with Eddie Marigny and some guy with a broken nose and bandaged ear.”
“Deke.” Nate really hoped never to see that guy again. “Juliet?”
“No sign. But there’s a woman lying on the floor. Blond hair. Unconscious.”
“Samantha.” Pete raised his head to check out the situation.
“What’s that?” Pops lifted his face to the night sky.
Nate shut down his own breathing to listen. It took a moment, but then he heard the air rustle. “You gotta be kidding me.”
“Fuck,” Pete whispered. “Who ordered a helo?”
“Pete and Pops, cover us.” Nate checked the rifle’s load. “Grady and I’ll go in.”
Nate led Grady up the steps to the porch. It was clear. Through the window Nate saw Samantha on the ground with Deke crouched over her, a gun in his hand. Time to roll.
Chapter 47
Juliet led Balthasar into her daddy’s bedroom. With Balthasar’s light guiding her, she stayed near the wall and prayed her plan would work. “In there.” She pointed to the closet on the other side of the room. “A metal box in the floor.”
Balthasar wrapped her hair around his hand and dragged her with him. Her bare feet scrambled against the floorboards until he threw her against the wall next to the closet. The floor groaned, and she inched away.
Gun shots reverberated, and the manor trembled.
Eddie ran in, shoulders shaking. He stopped in front of the closet. “We got company.”
Balthasar took out his gun. “Romeo?”
“Don’t see him. At least two guys coming across the field.”
Balthasar fixed the barrel on Juliet. “Where is it?”