by Sharon Wray
When they went in, they found Calum at the window staring out into the dark street below. Arms crossed, shoulders hunched.
“How are they?” Garza asked.
“Samantha has been checked out and is asleep in one of the guest rooms,” Calum said. “Doc Bennett is with Juliet now.”
Philip sat in a club chair, his feet up on an ottoman and blanket over his legs.
Pete lay on the couch, one booted foot hanging off the arm rest. He had a bandage on his forehead and an arm in a sling. He’d showered and put on sweats and a black tank. “Will Arragon’s doc keep his mouth shut?”
“For an exorbitant fee that I’m paying,” Calum said. “What happened at the police station?”
Garza shrugged. “I spoke with Jimmy Boudreaux. No one called in the fire or the helo. The manor burned to the ground, and there’s no evidence that anything happened other than a lightning strike. As long as no one sends out investigators, that is.”
“Will they?” Nate asked.
“No. I checked in at the station. I told my chief about the terrorist’s safe house and led the raid. I just left my partner there. It’s enough to keep everyone busy and not ask questions about what else I was doing tonight. I’ll write up my reports tomorrow.”
“You’re sure we got all the ‘other’ evidence out of Delacroix’s place?” Philip asked.
“Yes. They found the C-4 but nothing else that will lead them to Montfort, the Fianna, or Nate’s unit.”
Ivers came in carrying a tray with bottles of water and hot coffee.
Calum opened a bottle and drank deeply. “The charges against Rafe for that SPO murder?”
“Since the witness and the evidence have disappeared—thanks to Arragon—they’ve no reason to bring him back in. I’ll write up a report letting him off. Rafe should probably stay away from cops for a while.”
“Did anyone else break out when the power failed?” Pete asked.
“A few. The added confusion buys us time.” Garza opened his own bottle and finished it in four swallows.
“Good.” Calum went back to his position near the window.
Rafe came in and took one of the coffees. He’d been rebandaged and had added a few more to his collection, including one around his right hand. “Thank you, Ivers.”
Philip struggled to get up until Calum pushed him back down. Pete swung his legs around and sat forward, his arms on his thighs.
“How is she?” Nate and Calum asked together.
“Breathing on her own. Her vital signs look good. Her heart rate and pulse are normal. The doctor took blood samples, and we’ll have to wait for the results. Hopefully there’s no permanent liver, kidney, or neurological damage.”
Nate sat on the arm of a club chair. “How long?”
“A few days, hopefully.”
Garza exhaled like it was the first time he’d taken a breath all night. “Can someone tell me what the hell happened?”
“I’m still not sure how Mr. Delacroix became Balthasar,” Philip said.
Rafe ran a hand over his head. Like everyone else, he’d showered and put on clean clothes—in his case, a pair of low-slung jeans and a black T-shirt. “A year ago, Balthasar and Escalus were sent here by the Prince to make inroads into Savannah society. An undercover, in-plain-sight kind of operation. It’s a plan only used for long-term missions, and this mission was to find Anne Capel’s vials. Somewhere along the way, Escalus betrayed the Prince and started working for a man in New Orleans, promising to sell him the vials once they were found. When Escalus died, Balthasar went rogue as well and agreed to sell this man the vials and access to Juliet’s land.”
Nate reached for Ivers’s tray and took a coffee. “When I was in the manor, Deke told me Balthasar had the helo to pick up him, Juliet, and that creepy lawyer. They were going to take Juliet to New Orleans where Balthasar was going to marry her and lease the land back to this man. With the vials and access to the lilies, this man would then develop some kind of biological agent he could market as street heroin or some other kind of illegal drug.”
Garza hissed low. “My chief says we’ve seen the worst of this heroin epidemic. The dealers and the dead are drying up. We’re almost back to pre-crazy numbers.”
“Which means this man may be out of his practice batch.” Nate paused. “There’s something else. Deke mentioned someone’s been poisoning me since Afghanistan. Lacing the Z-pam I’ve been taking to control my seizures.”
“Dammit,” Pete said. “I told you—”
“Pete,” Rafe said quietly. “There’s enough blame to go around.”
“Did you tell the doctor?” Calum asked.
“Yes. He took some blood samples and gave me another prescription.” Nate stared at Pete. “A real prescription to help the headaches.”
“There’s something I don’t understand.” Philip threw off his blanket. “Why not cultivate the lily somewhere else?”
“According to Deke, who was quite the chitchatter,” Nate said, “this man has tried that and failed. Because Juliet’s lily is a hybrid, it doesn’t propagate well. It needs specific growing conditions including well-draining soil with a high level of naturally occurring phosphates. Deke also mentioned a rare bird that sows flower seeds in its droppings.”
“Balthasar was going to take her to New Orleans and keep her hidden?” Philip said.
“The man Balthasar was working for has money,” Rafe said. “It wouldn’t take much to keep her a prisoner.”
“Dudes.” Pete flung himself back against the couch and covered his eyes with his good arm. “When these women wake up, I’m teaching them how to defend themselves. This is ridiculous.”
Garza asked, “And the lawyer?”
“Dead,” Rafe said.
“After you beat the shit out of Balthasar,” Nate said.
“And laid down sniper fire,” Pete said. “Well done.”
“Sorry we missed that,” Garza said. “We got stuck in that god-awful river. How did Juliet end up drinking the poison?”
“She was the key to everything,” Rafe said. “Without her, Balthasar had nothing to sell to the man in New Orleans and the land would end up with the federal government.”
“Balthasar also needed Juliet to help him find the second vial,” Nate added.
“Good God,” Philip said softly. “She sacrificed herself to save the rest of us.”
“She was relying on us to save her,” Nate said. “She knew where the other vial was and was hoping one of us would find it and save her before it was too late.”
Too bad he and Grady had gotten caught trying to rescue the women. Maybe Pete was right. Maybe Nate needed remedial street-fighting training.
As far as the poisoning info went, he simply wasn’t in the right headspace to deal with that yet. Hopefully his blood work would come back normal and the new meds would help.
Rafe gripped Nate’s shoulder. “Thank you.”
Nate covered Rafe’s hand with his own.
“How’d you figure it out?” Calum asked Nate.
“According to Sarah, Juliet’s map had yew and oak leaves drawn along the edges. When Juliet told Balthasar to cut off the finial with oak leaves, I realized one was carved with yew leaves, the other with oak. I knew from my reading that yew was poisonous, so I figured oak carried the antidote. I just wasn’t sure which finial was oak until I cut them off.”
They all laughed low.
“But,” Nate continued, “I checked online, and oak trees have anti-poison properties.”
“Wow,” Garza said as he ran his hands over his head. “Just…wow.”
Calum coughed, probably to hide his shiny eyes. “What does this man in New Orleans have to do with Nate and Pete?”
“All I know,” Rafe said, “is the man in New Orleans orchestrated the ambush of Nate’s A-teams in A
fghanistan. A low-level arms dealer named Remiel L. Marigny.”
Pete coughed on his own spit. “That fucker is dead.”
“I know the guy who killed him,” Nate said. “He’s in prison with my men.”
Rafe opened a bottle of water and, before he left the room, said, “Remiel Lucien Marigny isn’t dead. And he’s coming for you two next.”
Chapter 49
Juliet woke up in the dark to a buzzing sound. Her head was on a pillow, and a blanket covered her. She wore a nightgown Calum must’ve gotten for her and had an IV in her arm. Snoring told her Rafe was asleep nearby. She lay in a furnished bedroom hooked up to a monitor keeping track of her heart rate and pulse. Through the window, a pinkish cast told her it was almost dawn.
The buzzing sounded again, and she shifted. A man stood at the end of her bed. Tall with dark skin and a piercing gaze that cut through the shadows. She pushed herself up, ignoring the dinging from the machine. “You’re Arragon?”
He hit his chest with a fist and bowed his head. “Aye, my lady.”
She heard the buzzing for a third time, and a light flickered in his other hand. “You have my cell phone.”
“You’ve been receiving texts from a warrior.”
“I’ve received them off and on since Rafe left eight years ago.” She coughed and reached for the water next to her bed. Her throat felt like it had been scraped out. “I sent him one earlier tonight, asking for help, thinking they were from you.”
“They’re not.”
Arragon handed her the phone.
A glooming peace this morning with it brings. The sun, for sorrow, will not show his head. Go hence, to have more talk of these sad things.
“They’re from the warrior you met as children.”
“Sebastian? I don’t understand.”
“Sebastian was once the Prince of our brotherhood until he failed to find Anne’s Lament. After a contest in the Gauntlet, another warrior—our current Prince—took his place.”
“What happened to Sebastian?”
“He was allowed to leave the Fianna and find a new life.”
“A new life that included watching me.” She coughed. “I thought no one left the Fianna alive?”
“One of the few perks of being the Prince.” Arragon sat on the edge of her bed, and the mattress sagged. “Did Sebastian ask Romeo to swear loyalty to him?”
“Yes.” She wiped her cheeks with her hands. “Why has Sebastian been texting me?”
“To protect you. You’re the beloved of two men who swore him loyalty. ’Tis his privilege to protect you.”
Two men? She rested her head against the headboard. “My daddy?”
“Your father understood the part the Capel family and the Fianna has played over the centuries to protect the secret of the lily.”
“Sebastian tried to kill us.”
“His intent was to scare, never hurt.”
She ran her hands over her head, her fingers catching in the tangled curls. Arragon’s explanation made sense. Her father’s paranoid fears had been true, and she’d dismissed him as crazy. “I wish I’d known.”
“Your father wanted you to find your own life and not be bound to the land.”
Except she’d been a terrible daughter who’d ended up condemning the man she loved to a life he’d never wanted. “The Fianna took Rafe instead.”
“Yes.” Arragon leaned forward, his forearms resting on his thighs. “Because of Rafe’s oath to Sebastian, I was tasked with Romeo’s recruitment.”
“Now that I know, I can fix this. I can take over where my father left off. You don’t need Rafe anymore.”
“It’s too late.”
She grabbed Arragon’s arm. Hard muscles tensed beneath the leather jacket. “There must be a way. Please. Help me find it.”
He kissed the back of her hand and stood. “Only healing the past can save the future.”
“I don’t know what that means. Please.” She glanced at Rafe’s prone body on the small couch. The fact that he hadn’t woken up proved how exhausted he was. “Help me save him.”
“What you did last night took great courage. You sacrificed yourself to defeat Balthasar.”
“I did it to save those I love.”
“You will be rewarded.” Arragon started to leave, his walk even more graceful and elegant than Rafe’s.
“Wait.” She hated herself for asking, was ashamed for having doubts, but she needed the answer. “Rafe’s tattoos. Are they real?”
Arragon looked back. “That’s not the question you should ask.”
Now he sounded like Rafe. “Then what should I ask?”
“Have you read Romeo’s journal?”
She shrugged. “What I could.”
“Did you notice the numbers on each page?”
“Yes.” She sat up higher. “What do they mean?”
“The numbers on the right are an accounting of every man he’s killed.”
“Oh.” She hadn’t expected that. That number had been over three hundred. “The other one was over four thousand.”
“As of today, five thousand one hundred and fifteen.” Arragon picked something up from the dresser and laid it on her bed. Hume’s History of England. Then he opened the door and glanced back. “The number of days Romeo has loved you.”
* * *
Rafe stretched and fell off the love seat. Considering his aches from forcing his large frame on the tiny couch, he should’ve slept on the floor. Sunlight streamed into the room, and he checked his watch. Nine a.m. Three hours left.
Juliet lay on her side, hands beneath her cheek. The IV dripped, and the monitors hummed. The doctor had assured him she’d be fine. But he wanted to see her blood work. Hopefully, the Prince would allow it.
After using the attached bathroom, he found his leather jacket on a dressing chair. His journal and misericord lay beneath. Arragon. Rafe stowed the sword and book in the jacket pocket and left the blue ribbon on her pillow. Leaving her yesterday had destroyed him. Today? He’d walk away hollow and empty. A situation he dreaded, since the only things that filled those holes were aggression and violence. His throat tightened. He’d trade anything to leave the Fianna, but he had no leverage. The only thing the Prince wanted was Rafe’s return.
He pressed his lips against hers. More a brushing than a kiss. He traced her bare shoulder with his thumb. He’d had no choice but to come home after Leavenworth, but if he’d known this was the hell destined for him, he would’ve stayed in the shadows. It killed him to admit that Escalus had been right. Rafe never should’ve sought her out. He’d fallen in love with her all over again.
Rafe slipped his gun in his back waistband and turned to find Philip blocking the doorway.
“You’re leaving?”
Rafe led his brother into the hall and closed the door. “I don’t want to. I have to.”
“I don’t understand. You’re stronger than all of them put together.”
“I’m not, Little Brother. I can fight a lot of things, but I can’t go up against the people who want me back.”
“You mean the Fianna? Calum told me.”
“He shouldn’t have.”
“I know they threatened Juliet.” Philip crossed his arms and stared at Rafe’s boots. “And all the others you love. That’s why you’re running again.”
“Not running, returning. There’s a difference.”
“It destroyed Pops the first time you left. When you went AWOL and disappeared. He never got over it. We both know what it did to Juliet.”
Rafe didn’t want to argue. He had things to do before he met Arragon. “Philip—”
“It destroyed me as well.” Instead of jealousy and resentment, Philip’s eyes shone with unshed tears.
“I didn’t know.”
“You were my big brother.
The one who looked out for me. Protected me.” Philip wiped his cheek with his sleeve. “When you left, I was all alone. I needed you, and you were gone. Then so was she.”
Rafe pulled Philip in for a hug. He’d failed so many people in his life, so many he loved. “I’m sorry.”
Philip whispered, “Is it true that Momma was murdered?”
“Yes.” Rafe pressed his cheek against his brother’s head. “Juliet told me a few hours ago that Momma was killed by Remiel Marigny. I promise he’ll pay for her death.”
Philip pulled away and nodded. “We’ll be fine. Calum and I will watch over Juliet, if she’ll let us.”
“And Pops.”
“And Pops.” Philip headed for the stairs. “Calum is eating breakfast. I’m sure he’ll want to see you.”
“I doubt that,” Rafe said, falling into step next to Philip. “Calum must regret freeing me.” And buying all those clothes.
Philip stopped halfway down, one hand on the rail, the other on Rafe’s arm. “Calum didn’t get you out of prison. Carina told me she couldn’t pull off a pardon.”
Rafe’s heart revved into a punishing rhythm. If Calum hadn’t gotten him out, who had?
Rafe hopped over the rail and double-timed it into the dining room. Calum sat at the head of the table, in a tan seersucker suit and green bow tie, reading the Financial Times and drinking coffee. The silver serving dishes on the gleaming table shone in the morning light.
“Did you know?” Rafe demanded.
Calum folded the paper into fourths and smoothed it out with his hand, laying his phone on top. Then he took a sip of coffee. “That you’re running away again? Yes.”
“I’m not—” Rafe exhaled and leaned on the table. “Did you know Carina didn’t get me out of prison?”
“That’s absurd.”
“Not according to your twin.”
Calum picked up his phone and texted. “It’s a misunderstanding.”
Philip poured coffee and sat at the table. He lowered himself slowly, favoring his side.
“Did the doctor check you out last night?” Rafe been so focused on Juliet that he’d given the others little thought. So much for becoming a better man.