Spies of the Angui - Cipher's Kiss Book 3

by Walker, Heather

  “Did you become Guild Master after all?”

  “No, but no other was assigned, either,” he replied. “I gave all the orders as if I had been all along. If anybody suspected, they never said anything. About a year later, I came over to the US, and I’ve been here ever since. Someone else took over in Britain.”

  She crossed her legs on the bed. “I guess it’s good you never sent those teams to the future to track down Ned and Ree.”

  “I didn’t, but Boyd did.”

  Vic sat bolt upright. “What?”

  “Boyd sent them behind my back,” he replied. “He’d figured out I couldn’t be trusted. He didn’t tell me anything about it. I found out about six months after they’d already deployed to 2018. I searched the Guild House for anything Boyd might have written down and found nothing.”

  Her jaw hit the floor. “Are you serious? So they’re walking around San Francisco right now, looking to hunt us down.”

  “That’s right.”

  “Well, who are they?” she asked. “Who’s on the teams?”

  “I don’t know,” he replied. “He used different people I never met before. They could be anybody.”

  Vic launched herself off the bed and flew around the room, snatching her clothes off the floor and fumbling her way into them.

  “What are you doing?” Malcolm asked from the bed. “Where are you going? We’ve got the rest of the night together.”

  “You have to send me back,” she barked. “You have to send me back to Stromness to find out who he sent.”

  “You’re nuts,” he returned. “I just got you back after three hundred years on my own. I’m not sending you back.”

  She tried to get her leg into her jeans and fell over. She collapsed onto her back on the mattress and kicked her legs out straight to slide her pants on. “You have to. Don’t you understand? It’s the only way to find out who they are. You have to send me back so I can get the information out of Boyd.”

  Puppet strings yanked Malcolm off the bed to lunge at her. “You’re not going near Boyd again. You’re staying here.”

  “And what?” She whipped around to confront him. “And sit around waiting for the teams to track us down, plus Ree and Ned and all the others? Don’t you get it? They could be anybody. They could be working inside Allied Chemical right now. They could be infiltrating Primary Industries to find out how far we’ve gotten on the formula. We can’t go on without learning who they are. They could kill us all while we’re sitting around hoping for the best.” She jerked her jacket around her shoulders—the jacket he’d bought her.

  Malcolm glared at her, but he couldn’t speak. He just spent the most magical night of his life with this woman, and now she was demanding he send her away.

  She grabbed her handbag and checked her phone. “Seventy-five percent battery charge. That should be enough. I’ll power it down now to save it in case I need it.”

  “What do you think you’re gonna do—call in an airstrike to take Boyd prisoner?” He stretched out on the bed and stuffed a pillow behind his head. “You’re not going, Vic. No way.”

  She paid no attention to him. She went into the bathroom and looked at herself in the mirror. “Oh, crap. I forgot. I’ll have to change back into that dress I was wearing earlier. Where is it?” She whizzed around the apartment until she gathered up all her old clothes.

  Malcolm studied her from the bed. She wasn’t going anywhere without his say-so. She couldn’t cast the spell by herself. All he had to do was lie here and do nothing, and she was stuck.

  She went through the elaborate process of taking off her modern clothes and getting into her Highland dress. When she’d adjusted her skirts to her satisfaction, she halted at the foot of the bed and scanned Malcolm still lying there bare-chested. The blanket covered him up to his navel.

  He returned her gaze with steady assurance that nothing could budge him.

  She raised her eyebrows. “Well? Come on. Do the spell.”

  “You’re not going,” he told her. “I’m putting my foot down. It’s too dangerous.”

  “Bullshit,” she snapped. “You know perfectly well I have to go back. You probably remember me back there a second time. You would have had to. You would have had to cast the spell to send me home again afterward.”

  He kept his face as impassive as he could. She stood above him in all her loveliness, looking so much more beautiful to him now that he knew she was all his.

  “Well?” she asked. “Do you remember me back there a second time?”

  He squirmed under the covers. “That doesn’t make any difference. If I don’t send you back now, you won’t be there a second time. You’re staying here. That’s all there is to it.”

  She regarded him another long, tense moment. They faced off, her standing up and him lying down. He didn’t want to think about what was going on in her mind.

  She sat down next to him, stroked his cheek, and kissed him. “Listen to me. The sooner we identify these teams and eliminate them, the sooner we can be together. Don’t you realize what this means? We can’t keep battling the Falisa, one generation after another. We have to destroy them. Send me back. It’s only for a little while. I’ll be back soon, and then we’ll be able to get rid of them.”

  He did his best to hold firm, but she already knew she’d won. His soul cried against letting her go, even to cross town to her own house, much less sending her back to the Guild House and Boyd. Malcolm should have wrung Boyd’s neck himself when he’d had the chance.

  He frowned at her. “What are you going to do? How are you going to find out who the teams are?”

  “I don’t know yet,” she replied. “I worked out a way to pick my bedroom lock. I can get out of the room and sneak around the Guild House. Maybe I can overhear him talking about the teams, or maybe I can see him sending them. I don’t know. I’ll work it out when I get there.”

  All at once, he couldn’t stand it. He grabbed her and crushed her against his chest and pressed his lips against her hair. “I can’t let you go. I can’t ever let you go again.”

  She said nothing. She didn’t have to. She dragged her sacred lips across his heart, her red curls tumbling over him. They christened him with that excruciating love that changed everything. He could tolerate centuries working for the Falisa as long as he was alone. He couldn’t survive this heartbreaking separation from her.

  He made up his mind then and there he would quit the Falisa to be with her. He couldn’t bear to do anything else. The instant she came home, he would walk away from thousands of years of work. He didn’t care anymore. Any benefit he might have gained for the Angui with this work couldn’t hold a candle to her.

  He pushed her back, but his throat ached so bad he could hardly talk. “You promise you’ll come straight back?”

  “I promise.” She kissed him one more time.

  He couldn’t look at her gorgeous features alight from a thousand stars outside. It hurt too much. He closed his eyes and laid his hand on her head. He traced his thumb across her forehead and choked out the words.

  “Eshmun Hamilcar hanno ashtzaph byblos rae

  Zephon anana akilokipok silatuyok anik toe

  Takiyok keorvik suluk yo

  Uyarak ek chua lo.”

  By the time he finished, he’d broken down sobbing and tears streamed down his cheeks.

  Chapter 28

  Vic jumped up out of a sound sleep and spun one way and then the other, taking in the bedroom she knew so well. The city streets of Stromness teemed with humanity outside her window. Lace curtains framed the window, and heavy drapes surrounded the bed, creating a cozy atmosphere.

  She studied every detail of the room. It really was the same room. Had she really gone back to San Francisco and told her friends about the June bug? Had she spent the night with Malcolm in his apartment, or was that all a dream?

  Either way, she had a job to do. She had to find out who Boyd sent forward in time to intercept Ned and Ree—and Malcolm. B
oyd knew Malcolm’s secret. If Vic didn’t catch those teams, they would kill Malcolm. She couldn’t allow that.

  She dove off the bed, snatching up her handbag from next to her where she’d dropped it. She dumped it out and fossicked through the contents until she found her paperclip, but when she tried the door, she found it already unlocked.

  Had Malcolm left it unlocked after he enchanted her back home the first time? Maybe he never sent her back at all. Maybe he was still planning to and hadn’t yet. All these journeys back and forth in time confused her. She couldn’t distinguish reality from fantasy anymore, but that didn’t matter.

  Find Boyd. Find out who was on those teams. Everything else was icing on the cake. She hid her handbag under the bed just like before and glided out of the room. She sailed down the grand staircase, the Guild House fresh in her memory. She knew where to find everything, and she knew where Boyd would be hanging out.

  She came to the sliding door leading to his apartment. Should she knock? She gathered all her resolve and pushed back the door, let herself in, and shut the door behind her. Her heart pounded harder than ever, and she couldn’t breathe. Her hands shook from the tension as she rushed across Boyd’s office and scooted behind his desk.

  She’d never seen a more pristine desk in her life. Sheaves of paper tied in bundles piled the shelves on the big chair’s right hand, but not one stray scrap of paper lay visible on the desktop. An inkstand rested on the far edge. Other than that, he kept his desk perfectly clear. She shuddered. People as organized and clean as this gave Vic the creeps. She preferred a cluttered desk any day of the week.

  She pulled open the first drawer and found two new goose feathers and a penknife, a stack of blank paper, and a seal in the Gunn family crest of a hand holding a sword. A lump of melted wax completed the picture. She closed that drawer and started on the second one. This could take all day, and she didn’t have time to go through everything in search of some covert assassination team Boyd might have cooked up on the side.

  She turned right and left, despairing at the memory of Malcolm telling her how the Falisa operated. They left messages for each other, handed down through the generations, to communicate crucial information to future operatives when it might come in handy. If Boyd sent those teams forward in time, he must have recorded it somewhere. He must have written down the members’ names and maybe some other crucial details. She just had to find it. Then again, Malcolm used his position as acting Guild Master to search for it, and he’d never found it. What hope did she have?

  Panic set in as she raced around the office. She tore into the dining room where she’d taken lunch with Boyd a few days before. What a gullible sap she’d been. She should have realized he was a slippery snake intent on manipulating her.

  She bolted into the next room and found herself in a charming parlor like the one in which he’d first introduced himself. This one exuded a distinctly masculine air with two deep armchairs sitting before the fire and smelling of tobacco and whiskey.

  Beyond that, she came to another window and cast a brief glance through it before she turned away. The sight caused her to whip around again to stare. Out in the garden, a band of six Highlanders stood in a circle near the lavender beds, all wearing Gunn tartans and weapons. She recognized them as the men who’d taken custody of her and Malcolm in the warehouse. They were all there—all except the man she’d killed on the wharf.

  While she watched, Boyd emerged from the kitchen door and strode up to them. They opened the circle to let him in. He talked to them for a few minutes. He held what looked like a clipboard in one hand, and he kept consulting it while he conversed with them.

  Those must be the teams. Boyd trusted these men with sensitive information and a dangerous mission. He must have sent them forward in time under orders to hunt Vic down and kill her and her friends. Boyd would also have confided in them about Malcolm. Once they found Malcolm in the future, they would confirm Boyd’s suspicions and include Malcolm in their extermination plan.

  She scanned the group one more time, fixing their faces in her memory, but she didn’t really need to. She would have recognized them anywhere. They would have short hair in the future, and they would shave their beards and change their clothes. Other than that, they would be the same men.

  Boyd spun around on his heel and set off for the house again, signaling one of them to follow. They headed for the kitchen.

  Vic whirled away to flee, but her hopes had already flown out the window. She couldn’t get out of this apartment without him seeing her. He would catch her in the corridor if not in the act of closing the door to cover her tracks. What could she do? Every second she hesitated brought him closer to discovering her. Once he realized she could identify the teams, he would kill her too, if he didn’t already plan to do so.

  She dashed for the door when she heard footsteps coming down the hall.

  Male voices boomed through the house. “Come in here, Stewart.”

  In her last desperate act, Vic dove into Boyd’s bedroom adjoining the parlor and scurried under the bed, hiding herself among the dust.

  The door slid back, and Boyd’s voice echoed through the apartment. “That’s all yer orders. Ye’ll need to find a safe place to shelter while ye make the transformation. I regret I cannae give ye any better preparation, but we cannae trust the lassie to give us any accurate information about the times.”

  A rumbly bass answered him. “I’m sure the Guild will still be operating in those times. We’ll find them.”

  “It may take some searching,” Boyd replied. “They’ll no’ be hanging out their shingle to advertise who and what they are. Make sure ye’re safe before ye make a move on yer targets. Make sure ye conceal yerselves so no one kens where ye come from or yer true objective.”

  “Ye’ll leave word for the Chapter Head, no doubt,” the other remarked.

  “Aye,” Boyd replied. “Ye can be sure on that, and I’ll tell him yer names and a description of each of ye. Ye’ll be the wizard on the team, Stewart. I’m trusting ye to cast the spell. Send yerselves at least a year before the target so ye have plenty of time to infiltrate.”

  “Aye,” Stewart answered. “I’ll manage it. Ye can rely on us.”

  “Dinnae come back until ye eliminate them all,” Boyd snarled. “Nothing else takes higher priority.”

  Stewart snorted. “I dinnae mind living in the future, so long as the Guild still exists. Anything that serves the Guild is good enough for me.”

  “Good.” A slapping sound followed. “Get along with ye, then, and Godspeed. I’m going upstairs to interrogate the lassie now. It could get messy, just the way I like it.”

  Stewart chortled.

  The door hissed open and closed again.

  Vic choked for breath under the bed, but Boyd hadn’t left. How long would she have to hide here? The instant Boyd left this room, he would discover her gone and search the house until he found her.

  Boyd bustled about the apartment. He sat down at his desk, and she heard a pen scratching across paper. Then he stood up and crossed the floor. Some liquid poured into a glass. He sighed.

  Her blood screamed in her veins. She had to get out of here. She had to get off this island before he found her gone. How could she do that?

  She had to find Malcolm. He could cast the spell to vaporize her off the face of the Earth. She couldn’t escape any other way. Boyd hadn’t come to find her yet. That must mean Malcolm hadn’t sent her home yet. He must have sent her to the moment before Boyd came to find her. She still had a few more minutes before the roof caved in.

  At last, he strode away from her, and the door whished open one more time. She followed every thump of his heels leaving the room. As soon as she heard him walk away toward the stairs, she slithered out from under the bed. She didn’t bother to brush the dust off her dress.

  Get out of here. Get out of here now.

  She raced across the apartment and through his office on the way to the exit when, out
of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of what she at first took for the clipboard he was holding in the garden. It sat alone on his desk. Insatiable curiosity took hold of her. She had to see if it held the names of the other operatives. She swiveled around to take a look at it. Her eye skipped down a list of names.

  Marcus McLeod

  Muir Wiley

  Reid Gunn

  Roy Fraser

  Seumas Baird

  Shaw Munro

  Stewart Gunn

  At that moment, to her horror, the door opened right in front of her. Boyd strode through it, turned around, and closed it before he faced into the room. There she stood. She didn’t have time to hide. She didn’t even try. He caught her in the act of reading the very list of names she came here to find.

  He sucked in a quick intake of breath. “Vic!”

  She opened her mouth and closed it again. What could she do? He blocked her from the doorway. He had her at his mercy.

  Sure enough, the surprise melted off his face. His features softened into a chilling smile. He strolled sideways along the bookcases lining the wall. “So, here ye are. I only came back for me keys, ye see? I got to the stairs when I realized I’d forgotten them. I was just on me way up to yer room to have a wee chat with ye, but since ye’re here, we can do it in here. One place is as good as another, do ye no’ think so?”

  Vic remained frozen, her eyes refusing to shift away from his face even as she beheld her own destruction stalking closer all the time.

  He sidled up to the desk and picked up the board, scanned the sheet, and set it down again. “Well, that’s that, then, is it no’? Ye ken who’s gone forward to intercept yer friends, but ye’ll never tell anybody. Ye’ll never leave this room.”

  She swallowed hard, trying to think of something to say to deflect his wrath. “You can’t stop them, Boyd. They’re all ready to produce the elixir. I gave them the last piece of the puzzle. Even if you kill me, you can’t stop them from making the Cipher’s Kiss.”