Triptych

by S. C. Mitchell

  She was still off the table when it came to romancing, but not for much longer. And once all the barriers came down, he planned to jump in with everything he had.

  “Have you put in for your discharge?” The sooner, the better, as far as he was concerned. He’d spent too much time on the sidelines watching as other men made their plays for her.

  Theoretically, she was already a member of Xi Force, and technically no longer under his command, but there were still military protocols to consider, and he was a senior officer, even if he was in a different branch of the military. Nevertheless, it shouldn’t take more than a day or two, with Xi Force’s pull, to make her a civilian again. Then all bets were off. He’d find out if this spark he detected between them could be fanned into a raging fire.

  On his side, it already was. The thought of being able to hold her, kiss her, and take her to his bed had his libido in overdrive.

  If only they didn’t have all this other crap getting in the way. Hopefully they could clear up this alien situation and Maggie’s issues with Guinevere in short order.

  Fat chance.

  An image appeared on the computer’s monitor. A couple. The man, older, distinguished-looking, in a dark suit with an American flag pin on the lapel; the woman, strikingly beautiful, with long blond hair and a familiar visage.

  The same face as the woman who’d held him paralyzed.

  Maggie pointed at the screen. “It was her.”

  The image caption read: Senator John Stacy and his wife, Dr. Guinevere Stacey. June 6, 1997. The story below told of how the Senator and his wife died in an explosion at a laboratory in Virginia where his wife worked. Senator Stacy had been on the short list of candidates expected to run in the 2000 presidential election, and the odds-on favorite to win.

  She died over twenty years ago, yet the woman he’d encountered didn’t appear to have aged a day since this photo. “Okay, tell me more about this woman.”

  ~ ~ ~

  “I’m not sure where, or even if, I saw something.” Maggie turned another page in her notebook. She’d thought the name John Stacey rang a bell. But was it something she’d read?

  She doubted it was something she remembered from her youth. She’d been eight at the time of the explosion. The picture and the article they’d found online had been published shortly after she’d lost her parents and been sent to live with Gran in Ireland.

  Paul sat next to her on the couch, his heat, the closeness, intoxicating. His scent carried hints of coffee, leather, and man. Musky, in a delicious, sexy way.

  “We should probably digitize this notebook. It would make searching the document a lot easier,” he said, scanning the pages with her as she turned them.

  “I’m not sure.” She was loath to share the notebook with anyone, but it did make sense. Even with Gran’s neat handwriting and the lengthy index in the back, it was a poor way to preserve such an important document. Paper, one copy, easily lost or destroyed. In electronic form, she could split into her three aspects and absorb it three times as fast.

  Somehow, sharing knowledge of it with Paul hadn’t presented a problem for her. But sharing it with the world? There was a lot of personal family stuff in there, and stuff about her powers that could be used against her.

  Paul’s hand rested on her shoulder. He gave her a light squeeze. “I could give it to Kirk to scan and process, swear him to secrecy. I know what this means to you, but we need speed and efficiency, and this is a lot of information for one person . . . even three people to process quickly. And I need to get you into training soon, so you’ll be busier than ever.”

  Yeah, the notebook was thick and filled with information handed down through generations of Morrigans, transcribed and compiled by her grandmother. Histories, battle tactics, spells. Things she and future generations of Morrigans would need.

  Future generations? There wouldn’t be any if Guinevere got her way.

  Maggie didn’t want a child yet. She wasn’t ready for that kind of responsibility. She had too many irons in the fire already. But someday . . .

  Children with Paul? She liked that idea. What would they look like? Her fair, freckled skin. His ebony complexion. They could be any shade in between. And that would be cool.

  Her oldest daughter would inherit her powers when she died.

  Oldest daughter?

  How many kids was she planning on having?

  None right now, but she wouldn’t mind practicing the procedure with Paul. Her discharge couldn’t come through fast enough.

  Sighing, she turned the next page of the notebook. The name jumped off the page at her. “Here.” She pointed. “Senator John Stacey.”

  As her eyes scanned the section, a fist tightened in her stomach. According to Gran, the Senator had been responsible for her parents’ deaths.

  Not a random shooting. An assassination. I tracked down the gunman and discovered the connection to Senator Stacey before I extracted my revenge. If I’d been faster. If I’d found Guinevere sooner, maybe I could have saved my darling girl.

  Maggie’s mother had fallen in love with an American who’d been on holiday in Ireland. They’d married and moved to the States to live. Still, her mother had made sure Maggie knew her grandmother. They’d made frequent trips to Ireland, and Gran visited the States often.

  What she remembered of her childhood was good. Happy, loving, filled with fun up to that fateful day twenty years ago when her parents had been murdered.

  Her seventh birthday party had been only the previous week, and movie tickets had been part of the gifts. Whatever she’d wanted to see, as long as it was age-appropriate. She’d chosen Mulan.

  They’d parked the car and were walking toward the theatre when a man stepped out of a dark alley and gunned down both her parents right in front of her. He hadn’t even asked for money or anything. He’d shot them, then pointed the gun at her. But he hadn’t pulled the trigger. He’d cursed and run away.

  To this day, she couldn’t bring herself to watch Mulan.

  The memory, so real, so poignant, was burned into Maggie’s mind. She’d always wondered why it happened. Maybe now she’d get some answers.

  Chapter 10

  Maggie stood in front of the spaceship’s hatch, Kirk at her side. “Are you finding it?” she hollered at the door.

  She and Kirk hadn’t been able to discover how to get the damn hatch open. There might be a secret button or remote control, but they hadn’t been able to figure it out.

  They’d asked Phaze to phase inside the ship to see if she could open the door from there.

  With a click and a hiss, the door pulled back and then slid to the side. Phaze stood in the hatchway, smiling. “Sorry it took me a bit to find the right button. I didn’t want to hit them all and hope for the best, you know?”

  Kirk huffed. “Yeah, who knows what this ship can do?”

  Striding past them, Phaze motioned them to enter. “Anyway, the button has a symbol on it which kind of looks like a door opening, at least more so than all the other buttons by the door. It’s all yours from here on, guys. Just remember who got in here first.”

  Maggie laughed off the taunt. Phaze must have heard her and Kirk boasting earlier about who would get to be the first one into the craft.

  Even alien metals couldn’t keep Phaze out. She’d simply walked through the side of the ship.

  “I think I was in there quite a few years ago.”

  The voice came from behind, and Maggie swiveled to look.

  Olivia Diego stood at the bottom of the ramp.

  “You were here?” Maggie asked.

  Olivia nodded. “Right after I died, my spirit was drawn here. Lots of paranormal activity. I saw the alien creatures and a woman performing strange rites and spells. She was like a demon, yet not. I didn’t kn
ow what a fae was back then.”

  When she was only eight years old, Olivia had died and become a ghost, unable to pass on because of her ties to her twin brother, El Brujo, the Xi Force sorcerer. She’d existed as a ghost until a young terrorist had sacrificed her life-force to a demon. The life-force had been consumed before her body was fully dead, and Olivia’s spirit had been able to inhabit the empty shell.

  Maggie’s head spun. “So you were here like twenty years ago?”

  This could be important information.

  Olivia shrugged. “I don’t remember most of it. It was only a short time after I died, and I was still figuring things out. But I remember being inside that ship.”

  Luke Sheffield, one of Pike’s Rangers, strode up behind her. “You don’t belong here, Ms. Diego. It’s a restricted area.”

  “But I had to come, don’t you see,” she pleaded. “It’s like before. Something down here called me. It’s like . . . well, I can’t think of anything it’s like.”

  Her eyes glazed.

  Despite having been born over thirty years ago, Olivia retained much of the child-like innocence she’d died with. An eight-year-old suddenly shoved into an adult body, adjusting to suddenly being a woman. Her thoughts and emotions were racing to catch up with the age of her new body, but she had a ways to go.

  Luke rolled his eyes. He’d obviously had dealings with Olivia in the past. “Still, you need to come with me.”

  The poor girl had had her share of troubles over the past months. Especially with the men in the complex. Her new body was gorgeous, exotic. She’d been curious to experience all that she’d been denied as a ghost, including alcohol and all things sexual. Her brother, Carlos, had been doing his best to scare off any suitors before they could pressure her into something he didn’t believe she was ready for.

  Unaware of her situation, a few of Pike’s Rangers had become enamored with her. They were, for the most part good guys. But they were guys.

  Still, El Brujo had magic and a huge amount of intimidation on his side. None of the men really had a chance with her.

  Poor girl.

  Evidently, Luke Sheffield had now been assigned to watch out for Olivia. Had Paul done that?

  Phaze strode toward Olivia. “I think she’s right. I think maybe she does need to be here.” She hooked her arm through Olivia’s. “Let’s go get you some clearance.”

  They walked toward the pile of debris that served as a connection to the main complex. Luke followed at a discrete distance, leaving Maggie and Kirk alone at the hatchway of the ship.

  Maggie smiled and shook her head. “Okay, let’s see if we can figure out how this thing works.”

  “Seeing as how Olivia and Phaze have already been in there, it looks like we both lost our contest to be first.” Kirk swept his hand toward the open hatch, indicating Maggie should precede him into the ship. “Ladies first.”

  Maggie’s heart fluttered. An alien space craft. This was going to be so cool.

  ~ ~ ~

  Inwardly, Paul was smiling, though he worked hard to maintain a somber, business-like visage. He knew where this was going, and it wasn’t where Carlos Diego, El Brujo, thought it was going.

  “This has to stop,” Carlos demanded, glowering across the desk in Paul’s office. “Your men are after her always. She may look like a woman, but she is still a niña.”

  That had been true a few months ago. Paul had been slow in recognizing the problems inherent with a girl . . . a young woman . . . whatever Olivia was, adjusting to life here in the compound. He’d told the rangers to look after Olivia, never dreaming they’d fall all over themselves trying to impress her.

  In hind-sight he should have seen it coming. The body Olivia had inherited was beautiful. A brutal mix for guys long sequestered in an underground compound and only let loose on the world occasionally on leave. Most of them were new, and hadn’t accrued enough vacation time to get them out enough, and the few single, available women here at Xi Force headquarters were far outnumbered by the men.

  Maggie was mature enough and knew how to take care of herself in the situation. She’d survived the Air Force’s toughest programs, which were all mostly filled with males. Still, Paul worried one of his guys would sweep her off her feet. There were some real players in his crew.

  Olivia had soaked up their complements and flirting like a sponge, too young and innocent despite her body’s age. Carlos had put a stop to most of it. Those that felt his wrath learned to keep some distance.

  Never malicious, Carlos had been very creative with his magic on occasion.

  Paul smiled, remembering a few of the more outrageous incidents. Who knew there was a spell that could reduce the size of a man’s cock?

  But his guys were young men, most between twenty and twenty-five, and Olivia was a beautiful woman. Paul had been forced to take stronger action, for his men’s sake as well as Olivia’s.

  “Who’s giving Olivia problems now?” Paul asked, pretty much knowing the answer. If he was wrong, they did have a problem. Not a big one, but a problem.

  “That Luke Sheffield follows her around constantly. Opening doors, being all nice. It has to stop. I know what he’s doing.”

  Paul inwardly chuckled, while keeping his face a mask of concern. “And what do you think he’s doing?”

  “Soon, he’ll be asking her out on dates, trying to kiss her, pressuring her into sex. She’s not ready for that. She thinks she is, but she isn’t.”

  Paul let his smile break free. “I’m sure that would come as a shock to the nice young man Luke is dating right now. They’re in a pretty committed relationship, from what I understand, which is why I put Luke in charge of watching out for Olivia.”

  El Brujo’s eyes widened. “He’s . . . gay?”

  Paul nodded. “I asked him to specifically look out for her, and report to me if any of my guys flirted with her. I’ve got your back on this, Carlos.”

  El Brujo was the one superhero who didn’t keep his identity secret. The world knew El Brujo was Carlos Diego. No mask needed.

  “Well.” Carlos eased his stance. “I guess I like him a little better than.”

  “I did send you an email on this, didn’t I?” Paul was sure he had.

  Eyes now downcast, El Brujo shrugged. “My email is all messed up. I need to get Kirk to look at it. Or maybe Olivia. She’s pretty good with this tech stuff. I know Kirk’s pretty busy.”

  Yeah, Kirk was one busy man. There was the spaceship for him to check out, security monitoring, installing new equipment, and he still had all his regular duties when Xi Force was called into action.

  Plus Paul still needed to talk to Kirk about scanning and translating Maggie’s notebook.

  The poor guy was really getting piled on, yet he never seemed to complain. Maybe it was time to talk to Aaron about getting Kirk some help.

  Or . . .

  “You say Olivia’s pretty good with tech stuff?”

  Carlos nodded and smiled. “When she was a ghost, she used to sit in on classes at university. I think she’d qualify for a couple of technology degrees, if she wanted to go for them. She could always help me out with my computer problems.”

  “Do you think she’d be interested in working for Xi Force, helping out Kirk? It would be a paid position and she’d be kept plenty busy.”

  “Olivia, busy?” A broad smile spread across Carlos’s face. “That would be a good thing.”

  “I think it would be in everyone’s best interests.” Then Paul went in for the kill. “In exchange, I have a little something I’d like you to do for me.”

  Carlos raised an eyebrow. “Name it.”

  “I have no idea how your magic works, or if it’s anything like Triptych’s powers. Would you be willing to work with her? Train her in this magic st
uff?”

  “I would welcome it.”

  Chapter 11

  Stars shone brightly through the open hanger doorway. Even over the security camera feed, Paul had no problem imagining the peacefulness of the moment. A false peace, considering everything that had happened over the past few days, but as quiet as it could be under the circumstances.

  Maggie reclined against one of the big tires of the Xi-1. She was still dressed in her Triptych costume, but had the mask and cowl pulled back so he could see her lovely face. She looked straight up into the camera, winked, and pantomimed taking a drink. It was their signal, had been their signal for almost six months.

  At the bottom of his screen a warning flashed: System reboot and recalibration needed.

  He had the option to run the procedure now or wait.

  “No time like the present.” He clicked the button on his screen. The cameras would be down for about an hour, and all things considered, this was probably the perfect hour.

  As the screen blanked, he rose from his desk and grasped the handle of his emergency pack from its storage shelf behind him. The security reset was a great excuse to see Maggie in person, rather than on camera.

  Not that he needed an excuse.

  ~ ~ ~

  Maggie’s chuckle warmed his heart as Paul strode through the hanger doorway.

  “I was thinkin’ you’d never get here. I’m dry,” she said. “So dry.”

  He couldn’t help smiling. “Maybe I have something that will help in this emergency kit.”

  “You’d better, considerin’ I dropped you off two bottles from my private stock.”

  Paul opened the kit and extracted a bottle of Sexton Single Malt and two whiskey glasses. “I think we both can use it after the days we’ve had.”

  He splashed whiskey in the glasses and handed one to her, then settled beside her against the tire. Warmth flowed from that one contact point where his shoulder touched hers. This felt so right. Not quite intimate, yet close.