Spies of the Angui - Cipher's Kiss Book 3

by Walker, Heather

  She cocked her head to one side. “You don’t look very happy about it. You haven’t stopped scowling at me since you showed up.”

  He sighed. He never should have come back to the Guild. He should have stayed on the fishing boat with Noah. He should have broken and run the way Niall had told him to. That would have been the smart thing to do.

  He couldn’t get away now. His sudden disappearance would attract too much attention. Besides, he still had to ascertain the identity of the Falisa operatives who would go forward in time to track down Ree and her friends. Not only that, but the Falisa would be infinitely more dangerous to the Angui now that Boyd was Guild Master. His father had done a good job, but Wallace’s energy and motivation to destroy the Angui paled in comparison to Boyd’s.

  Malcolm employed the old adage in relation to Boyd. He kept his mortal enemy close to him where he could watch his every move. The Angui would need someone on the inside now more than ever to monitor Boyd and his crazy activities.

  Vic arched an eyebrow at him, but when he still didn’t reply, she pursed her lips in annoyance. “Look, Malcolm, we don’t have to get in each other’s way to work on the same side. If you need information from me about where your people can find the Lewises in 2018, I’m happy to tell you all I know. We don’t have to like each other or be friends just as long as you understand I’m on your side.”

  “Aye, lass,” he breathed. “I understand ye’re on me side.”

  She gave him a curt nod and spun away on her heel. Her heels clicked up the path and through the back door into the Guild House.

  The minute she disappeared, Malcolm wilted in despair. Through several thousand years working undercover inside Clan Gunn, he’d never lost his will to persist until right now. What in heaven’s name was he going to do about this? He couldn’t leave Vic here. As much as he’d like to flee to safety, he couldn’t run the risk of any of these future women falling into the Falisa’s hands. They were too precious to the future of the Angui as no ordinary human woman could ever survive the Kiss, and eventually, Boyd would see how important she could be to them and kill her.

  Boyd had already convinced her the Gunns were on a mission to save the human race from their immortal overlords. She could become their worst enemy and destroy all their hopes of making the Cipher’s Kiss by simply talking about where and when she’d seen Niall in the weeks before she’d landed in this here and now. Boyd’s men would take it from there.

  He closed his eyes against the sun’s radiant warmth, but a chill clutched his heart. He had to get her away from them. He had to find a way to win her over to the Lewis side. Nothing else made sense, but how could he do that? No woman alive could resist Boyd’s charm when he set his mind to winning her. Not to mention his magic.

  The shuffle-click of a man’s footsteps traipsing down the garden walk brought Malcolm back to his present situation. His blood ran cold at the sight of Boyd approaching as the man rounded the corner. A slippery smile of satisfaction no longer curved the young Guild Master’s lips.

  Boyd set his features in a hard mask of determination and then said, “I have a job for ye, lad.”

  “Aye,” Malcolm replied. “Vic was just out here. She told me I’m to send the teams in search of Ree Hamilton and Ned Lewis. I’ll inform them—”

  Boyd held his hand up to stop Malcolm. “Belay the teams. We have a new situation that takes priority. Ye’re with me.” He spun on his heel and set off through the garden.

  Malcolm hurried after him. “What’s amiss?”

  “My father’s dead,” Boyd barked over his shoulder. “He was murdered in Aberdeen. No one kens who killed him yet, but the army’s after them now.”

  Malcolm feigned surprise. “No!”

  “I just received word the Prometheus was spotted off the coast of Lewis,” Boyd went on. “We’re heading out there now. We may have a chance to recapture the book they stole.”

  Malcolm’s head whirled in every direction. The Gunns would never recapture that book of spells Ned had found in a bookshop in Lyness. They wouldn’t recapture it on Lewis or anywhere else in Scotland because Ned had given the book to Ree, sending it forward in time, but Boyd didn’t know that.

  “If they ken aught about what’s in the book, they’ll have transported it out of Scotland by now,” Malcolm suggested.

  “We might get lucky.” Boyd halted to face Malcolm. “Besides, I’m no’ passing up a chance to pay them back for killing me father.”

  “Ye dinnae ken it was one of them that killed him,” Malcolm returned. “It could have been—”

  Boyd cut him off with a shake of his head. “It was one of them. It couldnae have been any other.” He set off marching away again. “Ye have experience fighting the Prometheus. Ye’ll come with me, and we’ll engage them. Ye bring Vic along. She might be of use to us.”

  Malcolm stopped dead in his tracks. “Vic! What on Earth do ye want to bring her for? She’ll only get in our way.”

  “She kens which Angui are working on the formula in three hundred years’ time,” Boyd replied. “She can identify them if we dinnae kill them first. We can pass that information to yer teams before they leave. Besides, I dinnae trust her farther than I can throw her. I’ll no’ leave her behind in the Guild House with the two of us gone. I’ll no’ turn me back on her until I ken for certain she’s no’ one of the enemy. Go get her and meet me on the steps in five minutes.”

  Boyd strode away, leaving Malcolm’s world in tatters. Going off to the Isle of Lewis with Boyd and Vic to confront the Lewises on board the Prometheus was just the beginning of his worst nightmare.

  In all the years he’d served under Wallace Gunn, he’d learned to thank the heavens Boyd wasn’t Guild Master. Now that dreaded circumstance had come to pass. Boyd would turn all his monstrous energy on wiping out the Lewises, and he wouldn’t leave Malcolm to scheme on the sidelines while he did it. He would force Malcolm to participate in ways he’d never had to before. Once Boyd got an idea in his head and that fixed expression on his face, no one could turn him aside.

  Malcolm’s cover story portrayed Boyd as his friend—his cousin, even—but nothing could be further from the truth. Not only did he consider Boyd his blood enemy, he never doubted for an instant Boyd considered him the same. Boyd might not realize Malcolm was Angui, but he knew he had ambitions to control as much of the Falisa organization as he could get his hands on, which threatened Boyd’s position and made them enemies. This trip to Lewis was meant to put Malcolm in the hot seat along with Vic.

  Boyd would keep a close watch on Malcolm. He would give Malcolm no wiggle room to undermine the Gunns, and no margin for error, either. If Boyd caught the slightest hint of treachery, Malcolm was finished.

  Malcolm headed indoors and up the stairs, then knocked on Vic’s door with his heart in his throat. She scowled when she opened it, and he scowled back. He couldn’t be less pleased to see anybody.

  He waved his hand over his shoulder and growled out the words. “Boyd wishes ye to come with us on a matter of Guild business.”

  She didn’t budge from the doorway. “What is it?”

  “We’re taking a wee venture to see about some of the Lewises’ activities,” he replied. “It wasnae me notion to bring ye along. Boyd’s orders.”

  She picked up a woolen shawl from a chair by the door. “All right. I’m ready.”

  He led the way down to the front entrance where Boyd waited for them. The little party set off through the streets. Malcolm cast furtive glances to either side. He would have given anything to send a message ahead to Lewis. He needed to warn his brothers what Boyd had in mind, but Boyd would never let him slip off. He would just have to play his cards as they came up and hope for the best.

  Chapter 9

  Vic stuck close to Boyd’s side walking through the streets to the wharf. Choppy waves heaved the boats up and down on their moorings. People stood around talking, and sailors worked at their trade on the decks and on shore.

&n
bsp; Boyd climbed up the gangplank of a fishing boat. A single man standing on deck jumped around in surprise at the sight of Boyd and Malcolm.

  Boyd strode up to him. “We’re commandeering this vessel. Where’s the captain?”

  The man opened his mouth and closed it again. He glanced back and forth between Boyd and Malcolm, but no sound came out of him.

  Boyd frowned. “I said where’s the captain?”

  “I…uh…” the man stammered, glancing at Malcolm again.

  Malcolm furrowed his brow and set his lips in a hard line.

  “I…uh…I dinnae ken where the captain may be. He went on shore yesterday, and I’ve no’ seen him since. He’s no’ due back until sundown, and we’re set to sail at the—”

  “We’re sailing now,” Boyd snapped. “Cast off and run up the sail.”

  The man’s eyes popped. “Now! We cannae! I’m one man. I cannae man her alone.”

  “Ye’ll man her with the two of us,” Boyd returned. “We’ll put in at Stornoway and pick up a British merchantman, then ye can bring this bucket back here and collect yer captain.”

  The man gasped. “Stornoway! But that’s all the way over on Lewis. How in the name of—?”

  Boyd snarled in the man’s face, “I said cast off and run up the sail. If ye quit yer gabbling and get to work, we’ll be there and done with it before ye ken what hit ye.” He turned and headed toward the bow.

  The man stole one more sidelong glance at Malcolm.

  Vic studied the sailor. He wore a kilt like all the other men in the country, but it wasn’t a Gunn tartan. He kept his brown hair tied back just like everybody else, and scruffy whiskers covered his jaws. Black grime marked every line on his palms and made every whorl of his fingerprints visible from several feet away. Dirt encrusted his fingernails, and soot smudged his forehead. Even with all those differences, Vic could swear she recognized him.

  The man turned away from Malcolm to get to work, his eyes flickering to Vic’s face for the briefest moment.

  “Excuse me,” she blurted out. “Do I know you from somewhere?”

  He lowered his eyes. “I dinnae think that’s likely, Miss.”

  He tried to leave again, but she caught him by the arm. “What’s your name?”

  The man cast another surreptitious glance at Malcolm.

  “This is Noah Kelly,” Malcolm said.

  Vic jerked her hand back in a hurry. “Noah Kelly!”

  The two men exchanged glances.

  “Is there a problem, Miss?” Noah asked.

  Vic stood rigid as she stared at him. It couldn’t be the same man. This couldn’t be the same guy from 2018, the builder who worked on Primary Industries’ new building project. It couldn’t be.

  “Is anything wrong?” Malcolm asked.

  Vic’s eyes darted from one face to the other. These men knew something. They were hiding something. How she knew that she couldn’t say, but she knew it. She spun away and hurried after Boyd, finding him in the wheelhouse at the fore end of the ship. He studied charts and log books on the desk in between scanning the sea around Stromness’s little harbor.

  Vic threw herself down on a bench by the window.

  Boyd cocked his head. “Is aught amiss, lassie?”

  She didn’t hear him as her mind roamed far out there over the sea, to the other side of the world. How could Noah Kelly be here and in 2018 at the same time? Only one explanation made sense. She would have brushed it off—after all, there must be a lot of Noah Kellys in the world—but one thing stuck out in her mind. Boyd had told her these Lewises couldn’t die. They were immortal, so Noah must be one of them.

  At that moment, Boyd’s muscular hand landed on her shoulder and snapped her out of her reverie. She leaped off the seat and whipped around with a cry.

  “Easy, lass,” Boyd murmured. “Easy.”

  Her hand flew to her heart. “Sorry. You startled me.”

  He sat down on the bench in front of her where his bright features blocked her view of the sea. He picked up her hand and pressed it between both of his. His warmth flooded through her, softening places in her heart she didn’t want softened right now. “What’s bothering ye, lass? Are ye angry with me for taking ye away from Stromness?”

  She shook her head but couldn’t clear her thoughts. His hands stroking her skin didn’t help much, either. “It’s not that.”

  Should she tell him about Noah? Should she tell Boyd they had one of these Lewises on board right now and that they were putting their lives in his hands by going to sea with him? Something didn’t make sense about all this. From the way all three men behaved on deck, Vic could believe Boyd didn’t know anything about Noah, but Malcolm sure did. He held a high position in the Guild—almost as high as Boyd. How could he not know Noah was one of his bitter enemies? If he did know, why didn’t he say something to Boyd?

  Boyd murmured in her face, “What’s on yer mind, lass?”

  Vic stole a peek at him. His smooth countenance drifted before her eyes. She never doubted his intentions. He would never hide anything from her. She smiled up at him. “It’s nothing, I’m sure. I guess I’m still just confused from…you know, from what happened.”

  “It’s to be expected.” He kissed her hand and stood up. “Ye must go into the cabin there and rest. I’m sorry ye didnae have a chance to rest in the Guild House as I promised, but circumstances dictated we must be off.”

  “Where are we going, anyway?” she asked. “What’s the big rush?”

  He bent over his charts and muttered under his breath, “The Lewises are parked up in their old hideaway off the west coast of Scotland,” Boyd replied. “We may have a chance to get the recipe book back before they make the Cipher’s Kiss. We can also repay them for some other misdeeds they’ve committed in the last few weeks.”

  “Why do I have to go?” she asked. “I can’t help you with any of that.”

  “I want yer eyes, lass,” he replied. “I want ye to identify any of them who’s present in 2018. Ye’ll tell me if ye recognize any of them so we can inform our teams moving forward to the future to keep an eye out for them.”

  Vic stared up at Boyd. Her throat constricted from the tension shooting through her, but she still didn’t tell him about Noah. What in the world was going on around here? What was happening to her? She knew who on this fishing boat she trusted. Why couldn’t she bring herself to tell him what he needed to know? She kicked herself for keeping silent, unable to understand her own behavior.

  He straightened up and smiled at her, then took her hand and raised her to her feet. “Ye’re exhausted. Come. I’ll show ye into the cabin.”

  He led her down some steps to a cabin where light shone through a hatch, onto a narrow bunk.

  “Sleep a bit, lass,” Boyd told her. “Ye’ll need yer strength when we get to Stornoway.”

  He guided her to the bunk, and she sank down on it. His voice sent her toward sleep, and she slipped heavy down to the bedding, her head collapsing onto the pillow. The boat swayed and rocked under her, hypnotizing her and washing all her resistance away.

  Boyd draped a blanket over her. His warm hand smoothed her hair off her forehead and trailed down her cheek. His touch relaxed her further. She would have submitted to anything right now. Anything he did to her must be right.

  He descended on her from above. Her eyes blurred. He was coming closer. In a second, he would kiss her, and even that would be right. She wanted him to.

  At the last second, he veered away from her lips and kissed her on the forehead. “Sleep, my lassie,” he whispered, and then he vanished.

  The ship rolled from one direction to the other. Vic lost track of which way was which. She floated out to sea on a smooth tide of contentment and half-formed dreams, drifting far away to San Francisco and beyond to every corner of the world.

  Somewhere out there, Ree and Ned were working on the Cipher’s Kiss. If Ree went along with it, maybe it wasn’t all bad the way Boyd had made it out to be. Vic ha
d followed Ree’s leadership for so long she couldn’t imagine doing anything else. If she worked with the Gunns to stop these immortals, she would make Ree her enemy, wouldn’t she? Still, Vic couldn’t ignore the Gunns’ position altogether. No one wanted an immortal race taking over the world. They would enslave all humanity.

  Those Angui creatures had accomplished their aim once before. Vic believed Boyd’s tale about that. What was to stop them from doing it again? Who was to stop them? No wonder Clan Gunn formed this Guild to wipe them out.

  Vic couldn’t turn her back on her friends, though. She would have to talk to Ree first and find out her motives for joining the Lewises. Ree couldn’t have knowingly joined them. That made no sense. Ree didn’t get mixed up with guys. Even if she did get mixed up with a guy, she wouldn’t throw over all common sense to support an immortal dictatorship. Ned had to have cast a spell on her. Maybe Ellen had gotten too close to the truth and he’d mesmerized her too.

  I have to talk to Ree. That refrain kept repeating in her mind. She couldn’t pass judgment until she knew all the facts. She couldn’t mention Noah before then, either. He could be a completely different Noah Kelly, and she’d only make a fool of herself and probably get Noah killed in the bargain.

  Boyd sure made a convincing case, though. How could he be wrong about these Lewises? When she thought about him, she sank into a bed of eternal rest the likes of which she’d never known before. She wanted to release all care into his trust. If he said the Lewises wanted to take over the world, she believed him.

  Chapter 10

  Noah leaned back against the mast, shut his eyes, and let out a shaky breath. “She recognized me.”

  “Dinnae bother yerself about that, lad,” Malcolm murmured over his shoulder. He stood facing the sea, back to Noah, arms crossed over his chest.

  “How can I no’ bother meself about it?” Noah asked. “She’s likely in the wheelhouse right now, telling Boyd exactly who and what I am. He’ll throw me overboard as soon as night falls.”