by Lisa Kessler
His foot pulsed, and with every lumbering step, his boot made an unsettling squishing noise like he’d stepped in a puddle. As he neared the helicopter, he noticed his hands were slick, too. He bent to move under the helicopter’s main rotor blade, and Agent Bale reached out to take Char from Keegan’s arms and lay her inside the copter.
Keegan shone the light over her. Blood trickled down from a gash in her side.
Shit. He thought he’d kept her clear of the swing of the knife. The blade must’ve cut through her before it sank into his foot. She’d never moved or made a sound. Fuck. He grabbed Agent Bale’s arm and climbed into the helicopter. Keegan tore off his shirt and pressed it into Char’s wound, trying to staunch the bleeding.
“She needs a hospital.” Keegan kept pressure on the hole in her side. “Now.”
Agent Bale was scanning the area. He got into the copilot’s seat, and the helicopter lifted. But instead of heading for the city, they shot out over the Atlantic.
Keegan shouted, “Where the hell are you going?”
Agent Bale turned his way. “To the Sea Dog.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Charlotte hovered over the carnage at the base of the lighthouse. Keegan had her body, cradling her in his arms, wounded but alive. For now. She needed to unite her spirit with her flesh. Soon. After spending her whole life as an emotional island, completely self-sufficient and relying on no one, trusting her defenseless physical body to someone else was a strange sensation, and oddly, seeing him carry her to the helicopter didn’t strike her as being weak.
Trusting him, knowing she could…made her feel…stronger. Maybe that was what love was all about.
No time to examine it now. This wasn’t finished. She’d seen a familiar face in the group circling the Tybee Lighthouse.
The helicopter lifted off, taking Keegan and her body with it. Would she be able to find them later? She thought so. On some level, she could almost feel the tether stretch between her spirit and her physical form. If Keegan could keep her wounded body alive, she’d find it and him.
If she had been there a second sooner, she could have stopped the knife that sliced through her body and pierced into Keegan’s foot. But she missed it. She hadn’t seen or felt it. Apparently being free of her body meant no pain. Sort of creepy to see herself bleeding, though. She wouldn’t have known she was injured if Keegan hadn’t grunted when the blade cut through his boot. The attacker wouldn’t strike again, but she hoped it wouldn’t be too late.
If her body died, would she be trapped as a spirit forever? Maybe this was death, and she just traveled between the two states? A poltergeist. It wasn’t like she could ask anyone. This was new territory. Either way, trust didn’t come easy to her, but her faith in Keegan didn’t waver.
She would finish this.
Searching through the bodies, she found one semiconscious man. How would she ask him a question? She hadn’t thought this through. A discarded knife was on the ground. She focused her energy on it. Gradually it lifted from the dirt and came closer. The man’s eyes widened as he crossed himself and whispered that this was all a dream.
The sensation of her head pounding while she had no body was disconcerting, but she continued, dragging the tip through the soft soil.
Where is Dr. Trumain?
His mouth gaped open, a terror-filled sob escaping him. “Not real, not real, not real.”
Charlotte dropped the knife and turned her energy on the robed man. His torso shook like someone had grabbed his robe and tugged.
He squeezed his eyes shut, whining, “He went back to headquarters with our leader. They’re moving everything.”
Even with this man’s confirmation, she still couldn’t believe it. Bruce really was one of the robed figures at the base of the lighthouse. She’d have to reconcile her mild-mannered boss being part of a secret society later. For now, she had to stop him.
…
Keegan cradled Char’s head in his lap, stroking her hair back from her face. Her pale, cool skin tormented him. He checked the makeshift packing they’d used on her wound. Blood was beginning to seep all the way through. Hang on, love. They were so close. Once they landed, he could sort through the boxes and find the Grail.
Suddenly blood trickled from her nose. Fuck. What was happening? Had she been gone too long? Shit.
He bent closer to her, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Stay with me, love.” Glaring at Agent Bale’s seat in the cockpit, he shouted, “She needs a hospital!”
“I have my herbs. We can heal her once we’re on board the Sea Dog.” He glanced at Char. “Is she…back?”
“No.” Keegan shook his head. “Not yet.”
Agent Bale faced forward again, leaving Keegan alone with his thoughts. He’d applied the herbs when Agent Bale was injured in the barn, and Bale had murmured something about the Lord’s cup not being the only key to immortality.
Keegan stared at his tanned finger as he traced it along her jawline. If Agent Bale thought Char was a danger to American citizens, he wouldn’t risk making her immortal. If she slipped away in Keegan’s arms, it might solve a few problems for Agent Bale and Department 13. Keegan pulled in a slow, controlled breath. He needed a fallback plan.
Time to level the playing field.
…
Traveling without obeying the laws of gravity was exhilarating, and Charlotte briefly wondered if her body was breathless. She found the Brotherhood Apartments and slowed. She’d given Keegan the address, but he investigated while she stayed behind. She’d never been here before.
The Serpent Society was supposed to be in the building right next door.
Locks and alarms were no longer barriers for her. She searched the hallways. Nothing. Upstairs was empty, too. What was she missing?
Hushed voices broke the silence. She followed the sound and discovered a sublevel floor underground. In the middle of a huge warehouse stood an older man with his hood off, exposing his bald head framed by a horseshoe of silver hair around the sides.
“We’ve got to get out of here,” another man whispered, his hood shielding his face. But she didn’t need to see him to recognize that voice. Bruce.
“Transport is already en route,” the older man spat. “Use the forklift and load the artifacts. I’ll meet you at the alternate facility.”
“You’re leaving me alone? I’m a sitting duck.” Bruce looked over his shoulder, right through her.
“Do you have a better idea, Trumain?” His tone was cold.
“No.” He shook his head, grumbling under his breath, “I wish I’d never seen that cup.”
There were so many things she wanted to ask him. Maybe he didn’t know these fanatics killed for artifacts. They would have killed her father and probably her, too, if they discovered her ability.
The older man hustled up the stairs toward the ground level of the building, leaving Bruce in the underground warehouse. Once they were alone, Charlotte weighed her options. He was unarmed, or at least she thought he was, and she wasn’t about to hurt him unless she had to.
Bruce went to the pallet stacked high with boxes, searching for something. Finally, he took a razor knife from his pocket and ran it down the seam of a cardboard box. He withdrew a stone vase. He set the vessel on the concrete floor and scanned the rest of the shipping palate. He opened another container and took out a small rectangular wooden box.
“I know you’re here, Charlotte.” He removed the lid of the box and lifted his head. “They told me you had supernatural powers, but I thought they were being superstitious. I’m a man of science; you know that.” He set the lid aside. “You have to believe me: I didn’t realize how far they would take their mission. I saw this as an opportunity to salvage artifacts. That’s all.”
She moved closer, eyeing the light-gray ash in the box. What was he doing?
“The Lord sent Elijah to the mountain.” Bruce pinched his fingers into the ash and tossed it at her. “But the Lord was not in the fire. These are th
e ashes. They give shape to any form.
“It worked.” His eyes widened as he looked right at her. “It’s real.”
She glanced down, shocked to find her outline revealed in the holy ashes. What was he doing?
He moved to the larger stone vase. “You should have listened to my warning and stayed out of all this.” With his free hand, he dug into the pocket of his robe and withdrew earplugs, popping them in his ears. “I never wanted to hurt you.” He gripped the lid on the vase. “It didn’t have to come to this.”
Even though he could see her now, she had no solid form to attack. He couldn’t wound her spirit.
His voice rose, filled with conviction. “A great and strong wind tore the mountains apart and shattered the rocks before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind.” He lifted the lid on the vase, and the force of the gale wind hit Charlotte like a freight train. She let out a silent scream as the world went dark.
…
David helped Keegan carry Dr. Sinclair out of the helicopter onto the deck of the Sea Dog. The stolen packages from Tybee Island were still in a tote hanging across Keegan’s chest. The pirate cradled her in his arms as the helo lifted back into the sky.
After David sent a text to Brenda, he met Keegan’s eyes. “Is she—”
“No, she is not fucking back yet,” Keegan roared. “Now heal her before she bleeds out.”
Blood trickled from the historian’s nose and ears. The carnage at Tybee Lighthouse proved Charlotte Sinclair had a deadly gift. Dangerous. This could be David’s only chance to keep citizens safe from her. The universe might end the threat for him.
Color flushed the pirate’s cheeks as the same revelation must’ve been occurring to him. Keegan turned, handing the historian’s body to the quartermaster. When he faced David again, Keegan snarled, “Give me the healing herbs.”
“Not a good idea.” David scanned the others for any sign of attack.
Keegan rushed him, grabbing his jacket and jerking him in close to his face. “Fuck you.”
The pirate landed a solid punch to David’s abdomen and went back toward Dr. Sinclair. David struggled to catch his breath as Keegan dug into his tote, tearing open boxes and throwing them aside.
Finally, he withdrew an ornately carved wooden cup. The Holy Grail. Keegan lowered it toward the historian’s lips. She suddenly gasped, her scream cutting through the roar of the sea. The quartermaster nearly dropped her as she struggled. Her hands came up, gripping both sides of her head.
Keegan stroked her hair back with one hand, holding the cup tight in the other.
David’s heart thumped. Shit. The pirate was going to give her a sip. The woman who just eliminated at least fifteen armed Serpent Society members who never saw her coming was going to be impossible to stop if that cup made it to her lips. He couldn’t let it happen.
David withdrew his Glock, pulling the slide back. “Our deal was only the crew drinks from that cup.”
Keegan stiffened, turning to face him. “Char is crew.” He nodded to the boatswain, and John Smyth drew his pistol, aiming it at David’s head.
David raised a brow, his attention on Keegan. “You know a bullet won’t kill me.”
“Aye.” Keegan slid his free hand into his belt, withdrawing a very familiar pouch. He jiggled it. “But ye can’t heal a bullet wound without these, right, mate?”
David patted his coat pocket with one hand. Goddamn it. The pirate must’ve pilfered it when he attacked him earlier. Shit.
…
Keegan pocketed the pouch and called over to John. “If the government man moves, shoot him.”
John nodded, and Keegan focused on Char. He took her from Colton, cradling her in his arms. Her body stiffened, a seizure racking her limbs. Fuck. He didn’t know what was happening, but he prayed the cup would fix it. He lowered her to the deck, her head and shoulders on his lap as he pressed the rim to her mouth and tipped the Grail up. The living water passed her lips. Keegan held his breath.
She coughed, swallowed, and then lay still. Too still.
Disbelief swelled inside him. No. He was too late.
Pain and panic pierced his chest. His eyes burned. Colton gripped his shoulder as Keegan drew her into his chest, burying his face in her hair.
He closed his eyes and whispered, “Don’t give up. We’re so close, love. Please.”
The seconds ticked by, but she didn’t move. He didn’t release her, unwilling to surrender her to the reaper. It was fucking unfair. They’d fought so hard to be together. This wasn’t how it was supposed to end. He hadn’t even gotten the chance to tell her…
He pulled back enough to see her beautiful face. “I love you, Char.”
And in spite of the gut-wrenching loss, the chasm of pain in his soul, he didn’t regret his words. He would never regret loving her. He only wished he’d told her sooner. He’d been so busy protecting himself that he missed his chance.
Suddenly, Char gasped, sucking in a deep breath.
His pulse raced as her chest rose and fell. “You’re alive.”
She stared up at him, then lifted her head to check her side. Her fingers ran over smooth, unblemished skin. She met his eyes again, her gaze filled with wonder and…something else. “It worked. You saved me.”
He wanted to wrap her in his arms and take her someplace private, but Agent Bale was still pointing his weapon at them. Losing himself in her would have to wait.
He kept his voice low. “Can you sit up?”
“I think so.”
He helped her and raised the Grail. “Here’s to eternity, love.”
Keegan brought the cup to his lips. The cool liquid filled his mouth. He swallowed and passed the Grail to Flynn. The first time he drank from the Grail, he’d had no idea what would happen. This time, there was no fear or trepidation.
Instantly the pain in his foot vanished. His knee was also completely healed.
He glanced over at Agent Bale. “Too late now, mate. Might as well put the gun away.”
Agent Bale shot daggers with his eyes, but he holstered his gun.
Char cleared her throat. “I was trying to stop him, but he…” She shook her head and tried again. “Dr. Trumain is helping the leader of the Serpent Society move the artifacts.”
“No matter.” Keegan gestured to the Grail. “We got the only one we need.”
This time he wouldn’t be spending the centuries alone. She’d come into his life and changed everything. She was a miracle. He helped Char to her feet, then crossed to Agent Bale, holding the pouch out toward him. “Believe this is yours, mate.”
Agent Bale snatched it from his hand, but all his attention was focused on Char. “You realize what he’s done?”
“Yes.” She laced her fingers with Keegan’s. “And before you start worrying that I’m a danger to American citizens, I’m not. I was defending us, fighting for our lives at the Tybee Lighthouse. They would’ve killed us to get that Grail.”
Agent Bale straightened his tie. “I’m going to need some assurances in writing that you won’t use your ability to harm anyone.”
Char tightened her grip on Keegan’s hand. “I’m the least of your worries. Bruce Trumain from the maritime museum had some kind of ashes that stuck to me somehow, even without my body. They were in a tiny rectangular box. Then he took the lid off a vase and chanted a Bible verse. Something about ‘but the Lord wasn’t in the wind’?”
Agent Bale balked for a moment. “They have the wind and fire from God’s revelation to Elijah.” He shook his head. “There was also an earthquake… Shit. Where are they going?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. The leader was an older guy, bald, and he told Bruce to stay with the forklift to load the relics onto a van. They’ve got everything boxed up on pallets in the basement of the office building by the Brotherhood Apartments.”
While Agent Bale laid out a plan to intercept the relics, the cup was quietly passing from one crew member to the next. Keegan’s chest tightened as Col
ton and Skye passed the Grail without lifting it to their lips. Their decision was made.
When the cup reached their boatswain, John Smyth took a sip and lowered it to his side.
“We have to stop them.” Agent Bale glanced around at the crew. No one moved. He frowned. “Did any of you hear what I said?”
“We heard you, mate.” John chuckled, slipping the Grail behind him to One-Eyed Bob. “But our deal is done. We found the Grail. Stopping the Serpent Society wasn’t part of our agreement.”
Agent Bale crossed his arms. “You may have the Grail, but they’ll be back for it.”
“They can’t hurt us now.” Captain Flynn smirked. “If you want our help, you’ll have to make us a better offer.”
Agent Bale shook his head. “You want them eradicated as badly as I do.”
“Perhaps.” Flynn scanned the crew. “But we don’t work for you.”
A spotlight shone on the dark tide as the helicopter returned. “This isn’t over, Flynn.” He glanced at Char. “Dr. Sinclair, I’ll draw up paperwork and bring it by your house. You’ll be required to register with my office if you move.”
“Required?” Keegan tensed. “Are you threatening her?”
Char touched Keegan’s forearm, her hand warm on his skin. “It’s okay. He’s just doing his job.” She focused on Agent Bale. “Have my father bring them to me.”
“Done.” Agent Bale pocketed the pouch of herbs and met Keegan’s eyes. “You won’t catch me off guard again, pirate.”
Keegan raised a brow. “Guess we’ll see about that, mate.”
A ladder dropped down from the helicopter, and Agent Bale climbed the bottom rungs. “Take it up,” he shouted. When he looked back at the Sea Dog, he was already gaining altitude. “Keep the Grail hidden.”
Keegan glanced at John.
He nodded. “Already done.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Charlotte followed Keegan up to his loft apartment over the restaurant. The inquisitive part of her mind had taken over a couple of hours ago, keeping her from reliving the horror of the fight at the lighthouse. From the moment she took a sip from the Grail, she’d been mentally cataloging even the simplest of sensations.
