Pirate's Passion (Sentinels of Savannah)

by Lisa Kessler

  Agent Bale cleared his throat. “All of this conversation is classified. Understood? No one outside of this ship can hear it.”

  Charlotte nodded.

  He crossed his arms. “The crew isn’t healing as fast as they used to. After their gunner was in a car accident and nearly died, the crew tried to retrieve the cup to take another swallow only to find it missing.”

  Charlotte raised a brow. “So they’re not immortal anymore?”

  “We’re not sure,” Skye interrupted, lowering her voice as if the river itself might hear. “They’re definitely not bulletproof like they have been for more than two hundred years.”

  “If they get the Grail back, are you going to drink from it, too?” After the words passed Charlotte’s lips, she wished she could reel them back in. She barely knew this woman. It was none of her business, but her curiosity wouldn’t be denied.

  “Only the crew drinks,” Agent Bale said. “No extra immortals, or the deal is off and the government will take control of the relic.” He straightened his suit like he hadn’t just doomed Colton to watch Skye age and die while he remained young forever.

  Skye waved a hand in his direction and stayed focused on Charlotte. “I don’t know if Colton has talked to all the crew yet, but he’s not planning on taking another sip. We want to start a family, and outliving our children isn’t part of the plan.”

  Charlotte’s head was swimming with questions. With immortality added to the equation, the complex web of a relationship was infinitely more treacherous. It was romantic that Colton would choose to give up immortality for the chance to live one life with Skye.

  But would he end up regretting his choice when his body broke down and sailing this ship became impossible for him?

  Her gaze wandered over to the shadows. Keegan hadn’t mentioned his immortality was fading. Not that they’d had much time for philosophical discussions, but he hadn’t seemed unhappy or depressed by the passage of time. He had to be planning to take another drink.

  If she had the cup in her hands, what would she choose?

  A crease formed on Agent Bale’s brow. “Has Colton thought this through? If the spell from the cup is fading, death is back on the table. The Serpent Society has already claimed one of my informants.”

  Skye tipped her chin up, and the moonlight twinkled in her eyes. “Life and death are two parts of one whole. Without each other, they cease to have meaning. Death is what makes life precious. Without it, endless life can become an inescapable prison. The world passes you by without seeing you. You’re dead already without any peace.”

  A shiver crept down Charlotte’s spine. “It can’t be that bad. Imagine having all the time in the world to search for answers to life’s mysteries, to watch the rise and fall of nations, and you don’t have to be left behind.”

  “Everyone is different.” Skye shrugged. “Colton sees this as an end to a curse. He’s only helping recover the Grail because some of the crew aren’t ready to give up forever just yet.”

  Charlotte glanced toward the shadows. Which side of the fence was Keegan on?

  …

  When they were a safe distance from the others, Keegan stopped and faced Colton. “The agent knows about the Serpent Society. I say we tell him about Skye’s vision.”

  Colton crossed his arms. “Sounds like it already came to pass. What’s the point in putting Skye’s psychic abilities under the government’s magnifying glass?”

  Now there was a loaded question. Keegan turned to the dark water, leaning on the railing. “I just want to find the Grail as soon as possible. If we’re all on the same page, we can use every advantage.”

  Colton stepped up beside him. “Are you that eager for another sip?”

  “Aren’t you?” Keegan glanced over at his old friend. “Besides, I don’t want to see the historian hurt. She’s got no stake in this fight.”

  Colton raised a brow and looked toward the bow. “You care about this woman.”

  “Don’t be puttin’ words in my mouth, Quartermaster.” Keegan followed his gaze in the direction of the others. “You know as well as I do, I only care about myself. But I’ve never met a woman quite like her before. Would be a pity for the world to lose her to the serpent bastards.”

  Colton faced him again, his expression somber. “I don’t want them to find out about Skye, either.”

  “Then let’s loop the agent in and get all our cannons firing to finish this.” Keegan straightened. “Once the bastards are dead and we sip from the cup again, we’ll have a smooth sea ahead of us.”

  Colton shook his head, staring at the water below. “I already told John, but you might as well know, too.” He turned his head, meeting Keegan’s eyes. “I won’t be drinking with you this time.”

  Keegan frowned. “You’ll…”

  “Die.” Colton sighed. “Someday.” He gestured to the ship. “I’m leaving the Sea Dog to John, but he’s given me his word the crew will be able to sail her out anytime.”

  Keegan raked a hand through his hair. “This doesn’t make sense. The crew needs you. You’re the quartermaster.”

  Colton chuckled. “You sing in a rock band now, Keegan. You don’t need a quartermaster. No one does.” A bittersweet smile curved his lips. “I want a family, and I don’t want to outlive them.” He pointed toward the bow. “Skye is my future, and for whatever time we have left, I’m going to love and treasure each day because I’ll know they’re precious. The cup stole that from me. I don’t want another drink.”

  Keegan’s gut twisted at the thought of losing Colton. He cleared his throat. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Stop with the sadness, Keegan.” He clapped his shoulder. “God willing, I’m not dying tomorrow. Be happy for me.”

  Keegan pulled him in for a tight hug, his thoughts jumbled. Until tonight, it hadn’t crossed his mind that any of the crew might not take another swig from the cup, and now, the realization hurt. The last time he’d lost someone to death, he’d gone mad with the grief.

  He wasn’t sure he could withstand losing another.

  Colton stepped back. “There’s no shame in growing old, Keegan.”

  They rejoined the group, but Keegan struggled to stay engaged. The only thing keeping him from running into the darkness was the woman with raven hair. Char’s eyes pinned him in place. He ached to pull her into his arms and lose himself in her.

  But first he had to keep her safe.

  …

  Agent Bale left the boat and headed for his car. The pirates hadn’t realized he was already well aware of Skye Olson’s psychic gift. He didn’t tell them otherwise. His department tracked every psychic in America, measuring their abilities in case they were ever needed. He had three full-time agents who called hotlines all day every day, testing and tracking data.

  Skye was from a long line of gifted females with an ability to predict future events. But admitting the depth to which his agency cataloged the paranormals would probably spook them, and right now this band of pirates was his best chance to stop the Grail from falling into enemy hands.

  When he got to his hotel room, he locked the door and sat on the edge of the hard bed. For a moment, he allowed himself to surrender to the ache eating him up from the inside. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his legs while he covered his face with his hands.

  The life he’d chosen was noble, but the top secret nature of it made relationships problematic. He didn’t have many friends, but he’d counted Pokey as one. Witnessing his last breath had broken David. But he’d make the Serpents pay. Dearly.

  He pulled in a deep breath and forced himself to get back into the game. He owed Pokey some justice. David opened his laptop to update the database, grinding his teeth as he added “deceased” beside Pokey’s name.

  Agent Bale wasn’t sure how much the pirates knew about the Serpent Society, but he had a file going back to the beginning of recorded time. The zealots wanted to control all of the world’s holy relics in an effort to ea
rn their way back into the Garden of Eden. Most would write off their quest as delusional, but David was hesitant to rush to judgments.

  If this job had taught him anything, it was that there were things in this world he couldn’t begin to explain, but that didn’t make them any less real or dangerous.

  He opened a new window on his laptop and started entering Dr. Charlotte Sinclair into the database. He’d come to her because of her expertise on the history of the Sea Dog and pirates in general, but he also had a hunch.

  And his hunches had a hall of fame batting average for being on the money.

  Years ago, he’d logged information on a young girl in Savannah who was gifted with a deadly power. Charlotte Pratt.

  He’d used his resources in Department 13 to have her monitored for a year, but her abilities never materialized. Over time, she fell off his metaphysical radar.

  But the moment he met Dr. Sinclair, something told him she might be the same Charlotte with a new last name. Unless she changed her social security number, it would be easy enough to check.

  Even if she had new papers, his gut told him this was the same woman. Had to be.

  She didn’t waste precious time trying to uncover a scientific explanation for Skye’s psychic visions of the future or a rational solution for the crew’s immortal existence. Sure, she’d asked to meet the crew, wanted proof, but most American citizens were resistant to embracing the “impossible.”

  Something in Dr. Charlotte Sinclair’s background must’ve made it easier for her to accept the truth. And he was going to find out what it was.

  After entering all the information he had on her, he clicked the Scan button. The screen flashed like a strobe light as the program culled through data in all of the government’s records. DMV, voter’s registration, FBI, it was all available to him.

  And his search engine was powered by more than Google. One of their programmers was a gifted shaman, his powers honed in on finding things and people. Through trial and error, they managed to program the secret search engine that ran half on programming and the other on magic.

  By morning, he’d have a complete profile on their historian.

  Chapter Six

  Charlotte cinched the tie on her robe and headed for the kitchen. As she rounded the corner, she gasped, waking the pirate on her couch.

  Keegan sat up, running a hand through his hair. “Fuck.” He shook his head, meeting her eyes. “You get up early.”

  “What are you doing here?” Her voice was strident, her nerves jangled by the surprise of someone being in her house. “How did you get in?”

  “Pirate, remember?” He followed her into the kitchen. “But I refrained from pilfering your silver.”

  She spun around, pointing at his chest with a shaky hand. “If you ever show up unannounced again, I’m calling the police. God, you gave me a heart attack.”

  His features softened. Not quite regret, but it was clear terrifying her hadn’t been his intention. “Sorry, love. It was late when I realized the serpents might already know where you live. I came back over and picked the lock.” He glanced at the door. “You need a security system.”

  “I’m fine, and I can protect myself. I have a Taser and I know how to use it.” She tried to stay annoyed with him, but damn, Keegan managed to make messy hair and puffy eyes sexy, and his intentions seemed to be on the up and up.

  “I didn’t mean to frighten you.” He leaned against her fridge. “Just wanted to keep the snakes out, lass.”

  She popped an English muffin into the toaster.

  “Why would the Serpent Society come after me? They don’t even know I exist.” She buttered the English muffin and allowed herself to glance his way. “And why do you care?”

  His lips quirked into a sexy smile. “Because you puzzle me, lass, and that’s a rare thing when you’ve been alive as long as I have.” His eyes slid to her door and back, his expression somber. “There’s enough blood on my hands. I’m not plannin’ on addin’ yours to the mix.”

  She put another muffin in the toaster and handed him a plate with the buttered one. “Can I ask you something?”

  He took it, the spark returning to his green eyes. “You can ask, but I may not answer.”

  “Fair enough.” She rested against the cabinet next to the toaster. “Most of your crew cashed in some of their treasure and bought land in Savannah, but you waited. Why?”

  He took a bite of the English muffin. “Didn’t see a need. I had a place to stay. Didn’t want to be tied down. Any of those reasons would be true.”

  “I checked the address. For more than a hundred years, it was the St. Mary’s Home, one of the oldest orphanages in Savannah. It belongs to the diocese now.”

  He set the plate aside. “What are you really asking me?”

  The toaster popped, giving her an excuse to break eye contact and put the toasted muffin on a plate. “I’m asking why you donated your property to the nuns for the orphanage.”

  He crossed to her and took her shoulders, turning her around to face him. His body heat reminded her that only her robe and a thin nightgown separated their bodies. When she looked up, his gaze was intense, demanding her attention.

  “The only thing that can turn immortality into torture…is love.” He took a step back, his hands falling to his sides. “I best be going.”

  “Keegan, wait.” Her heart stuttered as he met her eyes. The twinkle was gone, overshadowed by a sadness she didn’t understand. She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Thank you for watching over me last night.”

  He nodded. “Get an alarm system.”

  And without another word, he walked out. Charlotte locked the door and pulled in a slow breath. The pain in his eyes haunted her. She’d obviously poked at an old wound.

  It was none of her business anyway.

  Right now, the top priority was getting to work and digging up something on the Serpent Society.

  …

  Charlotte settled behind her desk and opened her email. Before she could read any, Bruce filled her doorway. “Morning, Dr. Sinclair. Can I interrupt you for a moment?”

  “Sure.” She gestured to the seat across from her. “What’s up?”

  Bruce took it, but he didn’t settle back into the chair. His posture was upright, ready to leave at any moment. “It’s about Agent Bale.”

  She raised a brow. “All right.”

  “I’m regretting that I gave him access to you.”

  “And why is that?”

  “You’re our lead on the upcoming Pieces of Eight exhibition. Without your full attention, I don’t see how we’ll meet the deadline.”

  Charlotte chuckled. “You have nothing to worry about. I was ahead of schedule before this project fell in my lap. Everything will be ready.”

  His expression lightened. “Good to hear.” He glanced at her desk. “Anything I can help you with?”

  “Sadly, no.” She met his eyes. “Weird as it sounds, my work for Agent Bale is classified. National security.”

  Bruce nodded slowly and stood. “I guess I’ve taken enough of your time.” He went to the door and turned back. “Maybe we could get a drink after work?”

  Her toes curled in her pumps. Did Dr. Bruce Trumain just ask her out? A few weeks ago, she would’ve been a puddle on the floor, but now, she stared at his broad shoulders and wild black curls and saw…a peer. Her boss.

  “Sure. That’d be nice.”

  “Great. Maybe the pub around the corner?” He smiled, a dimple forming in his right cheek. She used to live for those rare moments when that precious divot would appear.

  Today, she barely noticed it.

  “Sounds good.” She nodded. “I’ll see you then.”

  He walked away, and she rocked back in her chair. This would be a chance to get to know Bruce better and maybe get a certain pirate out of her system.

  She brought up a map of Savannah from the early 1800s and started digging. If the Serpent Society hadn’t died out, where would t
hey hide?

  Lunch was a blur, consumed at her desk while she pored over street maps, bank notes, and business licenses, searching for…she wasn’t sure. All she could do was hope she’d recognize it when she found it.

  “This is your five-minute warning.”

  Charlotte popped her head up from the survey maps. “What?”

  “Almost closin’ time. ” Louise chuckled, shaking her head. “You work way too hard, girl. You’re gonna wake up one day and realize you missed your life while you had your nose buried in the past.”

  Charlotte tidied her desk. “Have you been talking to my mother?”

  “No, but she sounds like a wise woman.” Louise smiled as she turned to go.

  Wise? Not really. A poor woman, living from paycheck to paycheck.

  Charlotte shut down her computer, unwilling to wander down that well-worn path of memories. Once her desk was back in order, she grabbed her purse, stopping in the ladies’ room to reapply her lipstick on the way out.

  The pub was dimly lit and loud, but the location was tough to beat, a block away from the river and walking distance from the maritime museum. She stepped inside, waiting for her eyes to adjust when a familiar hand waved from the back. She made her way to Bruce’s table and took the chair across from him.

  “Good to see you.” He smiled, and she waited for her heart to race or her palms to sweat.

  Nothing.

  She set her purse beside her feet. “Thanks for inviting me.”

  “What can I order you to drink?”

  “I’ll take a Guinness, please.”

  “I’ll be right back.” He went to the bar, and she scanned the room.

  Her mind was far from the pub. Right before Louise interrupted her, she’d found an interesting anomaly. Three buildings in the historic district of Savannah, rebuilt after the great fire of 1796, weren’t lined up the same as they had been before the blaze.

  The new buildings were staggered, with a path among them that made a serpentine shape. It couldn’t be that simple, could it?

  “If you ordered rum, I would’ve been hurt.”

  She’d recognize that voice anywhere.