by Aiden James
Secret of the Loch
A Nick Caine Adventure
Book 5
AIDEN JAMES
Created by J.R. Rain
Acclaim for Aiden James:
“Aiden James has written a deeply psychological, gripping tale that keeps the readers hooked from page one.” Bookfinds review for “The Forgotten Eden”
“A variety of twists, surprises, and subplots keep the story moving forward at a good pace. My interest was piqued almost immediately and my attention never wavered as I forced my eyes to stay open well into the night. (Sleep is overrated.) Aiden James is a Master Storyteller, whose career is on the rise! Out-freaking-standing-excellent!” Detra Fitch of Huntress Reviews, for “Plague of Coins”
“The hook to this excellent suspense thriller is the twists that will keep readers wondering what is going on as nothing is quite what it seems. Adding to the excitement is that the audience will wonder whether the terror is an evil supernatural creature or an amoral human…Aiden James provides a dark thriller that grips fans from the opening.” Harriet Klausner, for “The Forgotten Eden”
“Aiden James’ writing style flows very easily and I found that Cades Cove snowballed into a very gripping tale. Clearly the strengths in the piece were as the spirit's interaction became prevalent with the family…. The Indian lore and ceremonies and the flashbacks to Allie Mae's (earthly) demise were very powerful. I think those aspects separated the work from what we've seen before in horror and ghost tales.” Evelyn Klebert, Author of “A Ghost of a Chance”, “Dragonflies”, and “An Uneasy Traveler” for “Cades Cove”
“The intense writing style of Aiden James kept my eyes glued to the story and the pages seemed to fly by at warp speed…. Twists, turns, and surprises pop up at random times to keep the reader off balance. It all blends together to create one of the best stories I have read all year.” Detra Fitch, Huntress Reviews, for “The Devil’s Paradise”
“Aiden James is insanely talented! We are watching a master at work….Ghost stories don’t get any better than this.” J.R. Rain, Author of “Moon Dance’ and “Vampire Moon” for “The Raven Mocker”
BOOKS BY AIDEN JAMES
CADES COVE SERIES
Cades Cove
The Raven Mocker
THE TALISMAN CHRONICLES
The Forgotten Eden
The Devil’s Paradise
Hurakan’s Chalice (with Mike Robinson)
GHOSTHUNTERS 101 SERIES
Deadly Night
The Ungrateful Dead
THE DYING OF THE DARK SERIES
With Patrick Burdine
The Vampires’ Last Lover
The Vampires’ Birthright
(Coming 2015)
Blood Princesses of the Vampires
(Coming 2015)
Scarlet Legacy of the Vampires
(Coming 2016)
THE JUDAS CHRONICLES
Plague of Coins
Reign of Coins
Destiny of Coins
The Dragon Coin
Tyranny of Coins
Pyramid of Coins
Victory of Coins
(Coming 2015)
THE NICK CAINE ADVENTURES
With J.R. Rain
Temple of the Jaguar
Treasure of the Deep
Pyramid of the Gods
Aiden James (solo)
Curse of the Druids
Secret of the Loch
WITH MICHELLE WRIGHT
The Judas Reflections
Murder in Whitechapel
Curse of Stigmata
Maid of Heaven
(Coming 2015)
WITH LISA COLLICUTT
The Serendipitous Curse
Reborn
Reviled
Redeemed
(Coming 2015)
WITH JAMES WYMORE
The Actuator: Fractured Earth
The Actuator Book 2: Return of the Saboteur
Curse of the Druids
Copyright © 2014 by Aiden James
Cover Art by Michelle Johnson
All rights reserved.
Ebook Edition, License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Table of Contents:
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Secret of the Loch
Chapter One
Scotland.
How I had ever managed to miss coming here in my previous thirty-eight years on earth, I’ll never know.
The rich landscapes on the way to Edinburgh pulled upon my heart like no other place I had ever visited. And, we hadn’t even visited the rugged hills of the famed Highlands yet. In all honesty this surprised me…. It was almost like a distant memory welcoming my soul home.
“So, once we check into our rooms at the hotel, can we come back and visit the castle?” asked Ishi, closing his laptop and returning it to his backpack. “Since we will be leaving for the Highlands tomorrow morning, I doubt we will have time to see it unless we do it now.”
“You said they close at five o’clock,” said Marie, waiting for the conductor to finish his announcement that we would arrive at Edinburgh Waverly Rail Station within the next few minutes. She pointed to her cell phone’s clock, which read 4:06 p.m. “The last tour will have already started… maybe we can try it once we’ve finished securing what we came for.”
Ishi nodded in disappointment, looking toward Edinburgh Castle as the train finished its climb to the station. The castle sat upon the hill that marked the center of Scotland’s capital magisterially. The famed edifice was within walking distance from the train station… technically. But even if we all were up for a brisk hike, the castle would be closed before we got there. Unless….
“Could be a suitable opportunity for your amulet, darlin’,” I suggested, wryly. “Even if we arrived after closing, we could slip inside while the crew is closing up for the night. No one would be the wiser.”
Marie glared at me, as if I had suggested instead that we toss the Ambrosius Amulet into the frigid waters of the ‘Firth of Forth’ that bordered this coastal city.
“Why do you continue to make fun of what I’m trying to do here, Nick?” she chided, though she kept her voice hushed. She glanced warily around us, and I followed her gaze. Our car was mostly empty, and other than an older gentleman occasionally looking in our direction during our two-hour ride from London no one had paid us any attention. “Please… treat it seriously, and don’t mention ‘it’ anymore. Not here, anyway.”
“Okay… whatever you say, sweetheart.”
For those who haven’t followed our journey together as a threesome, dating back to our search for La Ciudad Blanca in Honduras, Marie and I share a tumultuous romance that for the most part remains passionate, sometimes loving, and always dysfunctional. There are times I have imagined us making a serious go of this thing we casually call ‘love’… and yet there are other times when I just as easily picture severing the tender chord that binds us together with my latest Bowie knife.
After recovering the Ambrosius Amulet for Marie from a forgotten ancient burial mound located next to the River Avon, I had hoped to return to the States with her by midnight tonight. That would give us plenty of time to hobnob in New York City and maybe even make it to Key West by Christmas, where we plann
ed to rendezvous with Ishi, who wanted to spend a couple of weeks with his family in Honduras. It seemed foolish to linger in the United Kingdom. Especially as long as Yassir Ali and the teams of assassins he sent to Europe were still searching for us, after we swindled him out of what he believed was a fair share of the loot we took from Sekhmet’s temple in Egypt’s southwestern desert.
At least it seemed foolish to Ishi and me.
Marie, on the other hand, can’t shake the burden of finding an immense druid treasure hidden someplace in the Scottish Highlands. Unfortunately, since she maintains a tenuous hold on my heart and Ishi’s and my morbid curiosity, we allowed her to convince us to head north and try to find this ancient trove before exiting the UK, and also Europe, likely forever. Or, forever in terms of how long it takes our Egyptian adversaries to forget about us.
Once we reached our destination, I moved to put my arm around Marie’s shoulders to keep her warm, since the lighter jacket she chose over the parka she discarded in Salisbury left her vulnerable to the chillier local temperature. She offered a grateful smile that reminded me of all I do love about her, and we snuggled close as we exited the train with Ishi following close behind us.
“At least we won’t be burdened by any luggage issues,” I quipped, waiting for Ishi to catch up as we hurried to Picardy Place, where an established rental car agency should have a four-wheel drive vehicle waiting for us, which Ishi reserved from his laptop on the train. Each of us wore backpacks containing the most important items I was able to retrieve from Cricket Field before Ali’s men chased us to Kings Cross train station in London. “But, we’ll definitely need to purchase enough clothing to get us through the rest of the week… unless the search for the druid’s gold takes longer.”
“We will need to get thicker coats, too,” said Ishi, his parka zipped up to his chin. His stiff gait reminded me of a waddling emperor penguin.
“Amen to that!” Marie agreed.
“You two do realize that we might be camping out for a few days in search of the cave you’ve described, Marie. Right?” I said, just as a gust of cold wind embraced us.
“Christ, I hope the wind lets up soon!” she replied, for the moment focused only on reaching our immediate destination.
“It will be better once we’re curled up in front of a warm fire, my love,” I assured her, though hard to tell if she believed me. I resisted the urge to remind her that coming here in winter was entirely her idea. Instead, I turned my attention to Ishi. “You booked the car for a week, right? Did you get a confirmation on the rooms for tonight, too, little buddy?”
“We’ll have the vehicle for a week and can extend it if needed. We are set for two rooms… at the Old Waverly Hotel.” His voice was muffled from burying his face deeper into his parka.
I opened my coat to allow Marie to slip inside as I draped it over her shoulders. Despite my own distaste for the wind, I began to wonder if I would be the only one ready to take on the frigid elements that would surely prevail through much of our stay. I chuckled at the thought of Ishi and Marie huddled by a campfire along the shores of Loch Ness, Loch Lomond, or Loch Morar—the three possibilities for the hidden treasure trove’s location, according to Marie. Huddled while I handled all the grunt work of surveying the hillsides, while neither of them budged from their butt-warming spots until I determined which locale harbored the goods…. Or worse, this excursion to chase Marie’s daddy’s dying request proved to be a colossal waste of time, where there was no vast horde of gold and precious gems, leaving us empty-handed.
“What’s funny?” asked Ishi.
“Are you sure you can handle the cold, Ishi?” I replied, unable to resist the smirk pulling on my good-natured smile from a moment ago. “I doubt you’ve played much in snow before, growing up in Honduras and all.”
“There’s very little snow here,” said Marie, shivering as another gust pummeled us. She looked longingly at the line of taxis slowly parading by as we made our way up the road to the agency’s illuminated yellow sign. “Mostly just cold wind and maybe a light dusting here and there…. The rental office is right up ahead, thank God!”
I hoped this would be where things started to get better…. Pick up the car, load up some supplies from a few stores in the area, and head to the hotel for a relaxing night. We’d be all set for our journey to the first loch in the morning.
That itinerary appeared plausible all the way until we stepped inside the rental agency and approached the counter. Ishi pulled out his credit card and passport while Marie and I looked on. If I hadn’t have peered out through the window to our left I might not be relating what happened next—or anything else—as I am now.
“Shit!” I hissed.
“What—oh, shit, Nick—there’s no place to hide here!”
The poor girl assisting us, a full-blooded Scottish lass who was blessed with the most beautiful red hair I had ever seen on a woman, suddenly backed away from the counter. Her eyes were locked on a pair of armed men stepping through the building’s main entrance.
Armed men of Arab decent, and brandishing automatic rifles with nary a care about any law enforcement officers that might be in the area.
Yassir Ali’s men are here? How in the hell did they find us?…. Shit! Shit! Shit!!...
My mind raced in panic. They must’ve hacked into the train’s Wi-Fi system somehow, or gathered Ishi’s credit card information from when we tried to outsmart these assholes with our last rented automobile in Salisbury. It mattered little now.
“Follow my lead,” I whispered to Marie with a wink to Ishi that I tried to sell with confidence. After all, we had nothing to lose and could be dead in a moment without making a move, or die trying to make something happen—like a daring escape.
Two other gunmen were on their way, but I delayed making a move until the first two had crept to within a foot of my back. I relied on the terrified agent’s actions, waiting for the prickly sensation along the base of my neck to reach a painful burn and for her to cower to the floor before I took action.
I must admit that despite having developed adequate hand-to-hand combat skills during the past twenty years, I relied on a move I once saw in a movie, slipping out of my coat and whirling around to face Ali’s hit men. No doubt, they weren’t expecting anything other than a possible shocked response and trembling hands floating toward the ceiling in surrender.
Keep in mind that I assumed the three of us would be dead if the idea failed—the same deal if we did nothing to defend ourselves. It’s what I told myself as I grabbed the assault rifle with my coat, wrapping it around the stock and pulling it toward the ground as the bullets erupted. Then I slammed my forehead into the surprised sucker’s nose. Blood erupted, and before his buddy could turn his weapon on me, instead of Marie’s back, I shoved my guy into him.
I wrested the shrouded rifle away as the pair fell to the floor, and quickly turned the weapon on the other two gunmen running through the door. Maybe I should have shot them all—Probably would’ve been wise to have done that, in retrospect. But also remember that I’m a looter by trade, and one given to altruistic moments… though they are few and far between.
I aimed high and shot out the glass door and transom above it, showering glass onto the two guys I now recognized from London.
“Drop ‘em or your dead!” I shouted, taking a step toward the pair. I realize this was supremely foolish, if not suicidal. But the element of surprise was with us… at least for a moment. “Grab their guns Ishi and Marie—now!”
My companions moved swiftly, securing the guns while I turned my weapon on the other gunmen, who complied to my screamed command to push the other rifle toward me.
I kicked it away, and noticed that more Egyptians were on the way from across the street, though none brandished weapons in the open—likely kept hidden beneath their trench coats.
We would likely be cut down to shreds the minute we stepped out of the building.
“Where’s the back door?” I asked
our rental agent, a girl named Ainsley and whom I assumed would likely quit this job before the day ended. She pointed timidly behind her and nodded weakly when I asked if the door was unlocked.
I motioned for Ishi and Marie to follow me. Marie’s purse slipped from her grasp as she secured her grip, and one of the Egyptians near the door reached for it. Fortunately, this guy had it only for a moment before Marie yanked it back. She ran to me, and we turned to leave. But, just before the others burst through the splintered hole that had been the main entrance to the car rental agency, this particular gunman’s eyes met mine.
It was the same asshole that had taunted me during our lone road contest from Stonehenge to Salisbury. He smiled smugly at me, as if he carried a dirty little secret about us. It was the thing that stayed with me most after I scurried out the rear entrance to where Ishi and Marie waited.
Chapter Two
“So now what are we going to do?”
Marie posed the question after we had fled Picardy Place. Fled without the assault rifles we took from the Egyptian assassin team who were prepared to use the weapons on us. Some might think we should’ve kept one, but Yassir Ali’s men weren’t our only worry.
We didn’t dare return to the train station, and our options were limited. We couldn’t flag a police officer either, although several police cars had arrived at the rental car office. The Egyptians had also fled…. No, that’s not the right word, since we watched several stragglers stick around as if trying to find us. But they hadn’t pursued us with the determination we had witnessed for days in Salisbury and Wiltshire, and as recently as that afternoon in London.
“I think the coast is clear enough to get a taxi, and have them drop us off at a car rental location elsewhere in the city,” I said. “It would be wise to find another hotel or inn, as well, since we have to assume Yassir Ali’s people have either hacked Ishi’s computer, or they have obtained his credit card information some other way.”
