“Unless they blow the place up?” she asked, her tone a little icy. She’d joined him in their discussion on how the safehouse had been destroyed but that didn’t mean she was about to forgive him for the omission. The hard set to her jaw must have projected her thoughts.
He sat forward again. “I apologize for not telling you. I didn’t want to agitate you. Or make you fearful. When people operate on fear, they make mistakes. They can be a liability both to themselves as well as the security consultant. I didn’t want either of us to be compromised. And of course, I had no way of telling if your devices really were secure.”
Her cheeks flushed at the reminder even though one look at his face was enough to confirm her hadn’t meant it as a dig at her. She shook her head, trying to clear her mind. How could she trust him when he deliberately chose to keep something so important, so crucial, from her? What else would he keep from her and simply find any reason to justify the lies?
“I don’t appreciate being lied to. I hired you on the assumption that you were good at your job but I also expected you to be honest with me. How do you expect me to trust you now? What else have you kept from me? Or will keep from me just because you decide it’s best?”
Even though her voice filled the room, making her fury clear, Leira was all too aware of her own fear. She was suddenly afraid because she was no longer certain that she could trust this man who was responsible for keeping her alive.
Ciaran sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “I apologize for that. This is no excuse but given the way things played out I was under the assumption that you were some spoiled heiress avoiding her ex. I didn’t know you, nor could I make any guesses as to how you would behave. It was possible you would have been strong and dealt with it. And it was equally possible that you would have had a panic attack or something.”
Leira heard his words, and she listened to more than his excuses. He’d wanted to protect her, and even though she’d never asked for ignorance as a form of protections, he’d acted only within the boundaries of what he knew of her. Which had been precious fuck-all at the time.
She sighed and sank against the back of the armchair. “Okay. I get what you were trying to do. But I can’t handle lies. Not even lies by omission. I can’t feel safe or secure knowing you’re keeping things from me.” She was still furious with him but she understood enough to take another breath and try to calm down.
Ciaran got to his feet. “Thank you. For trying to understand. And I assure you that going forward I’ll keep you in the loop on every detail.” His eyes were dark though and Leira sensed he was still upset. Probably with himself for the lies? Or more likely because he’d been caught out? But the moment she entertained the though she shook it away. He didn’t appear to be the petty petulant sort.
He smiled and walked to the door when he paused and looked over his shoulder. “There’s something to eat on the stove in the kitchen. I’m going to have a shower so you can have at it. Just leave some for me.”
Leira grinned back at him, the thought of food suddenly eliminating her irritation. He left for the bathroom as she hurried to her bedroom to stow her burdens before hurrying to the kitchen. He’d left a few lights on, the soft pools of gold giving the interior of the cabin a safe and cozy feel.
On the ancient stove was a pot containing a beef and potato stew and a small pot of rice sat steaming beside it. She dished a generous portion and took her plate to the sofa in front of the empty hearth. It seemed he’d attempted to start a fire and hadn’t gotten anywhere. Or perhaps been distracted.
Before she tucked into her meal, Leira used her flame to light the fire and by the time she was halfway through her bowl of stew, her toes had already begun to feel the heat. She was almost asleep when Ciaran emerged from the shower and when she looked up, she caught the confusion on his face. But he didn’t say anything, just grabbed his own food and a couple bottles of ginger beer from the fridge before joining her.
They sat there in front of the fire, finished their stew and drank their ginger beers, in a comfortable silence that was oddly compelling, oddly comforting. Even though he’d lied to her, she still felt protected by him.
Yet, it didn’t change the fact that she was pissed off with him.
23
Ciaran
Ciaran had considered sending a message to the Hunters. It was possible that they would help him to patrol the area which would have given him a little bit more of a sense of security. But he decided against it.
He had contacted the sheriff to have them keep an eye open around the town. With one safe house already blown up, he wasn't sure that he wanted to let anyone know where he’d taken her.
Which left him in a difficult position; although he wanted help to keep an eye on their location and keep them safe, he also didn't want to endanger her by widening the circle of the people who knew what was going on.
Now Ciaran gritted his teeth, his eyes never leaving Leira as she moved about the kitchen restlessly, her red hair blazing as though it were a conduit to her fury. They both slept in but he’d woken first, to do a quick perimeter check in spite of the cameras showing no activity around the cabin all night.
Damn Frankie for his stupid prank. The kid was insane if he thought he was going to get away with it without consequences. Ciaran had to admit though, that the hacker’s intentions were good, even if his sense of humor needed a total overhaul. Worse, Frankie had gotten Ciaran in worse trouble with Leira overhearing their discussion regarding the safehouse. Granted, Ciaran should’ve been more careful, so it wasn’t all the kid’s fault.
Ciaran snuck a glance over at Leira, studying the slender line of her neck, unable to take his eyes off the coppery curls all tumbling around her face from the knot she’d twisted on top of her head. She shouldn’t have bothered, seeing as how her hair seemed messier for it. Long strands that he imagined curling around his hands, feeling the silky strands caress his skin and bringing his blood to boiling point.
He shook his head, thrusting away those thoughts. This was a job. She was a client. He had no business thinking of the warmth of her lips or the smoothness of her skin beneath her clothes.
Ciaran straightened and Leira turned to him at the same time. Her eyes widened. “What the hell? How do you walk around the place so silently? You almost gave me a heart attack.”
Ciaran paused, worry beginning to burn away at his gut. Why was she so jumpy? Yes, there was someone after her, but she knew well enough that she was safe here with him. Or was it him she was afraid of? Had he given her reason to be afraid of him?
Had she lied when she’d reassured him last night that she understood his omission had been for her safety? He couldn’t be sure but then again, he wasn’t exactly going to win any prizes for his invincible charm.
She stood rooted to the spot, her phone in her hand holding her gaze as he walked toward the counter and took a seat. She was skittish—her heart was racing and Ciaran scented fear.
He forced a smile. “Sorry if I startled you. I didn’t mean to. Just habit.”
She looked up, a strange expression on her face, something part anger, part suspicion, part something else. Then her expression transformed to simple anger. She dropped her phone on the counter and glared at Ciaran, her lips forming a thin angry line while her fingers rapped a tattoo on the marble countertop.
Ciaran sat on the stool, remaining still as the room grew quieter, the distance between them filled with thick silence which he chose to break. “I guess you’re still upset about the safehouse.”
“I understand why. It’s just going to take a little longer than one night to feel better about it.” Her tone was sharp, cutting and laced with hurt which confused Ciaran, but he also saw her relax, almost imperceptibly, but it was enough. She wasn’t entirely against him, thank the Goddess.
He smiled. “Want to go outside and get some fresh air? I can build a fire if you like?”
She glanced over at him and gave him a strange smile. Th
en she nodded—a single crisp movement—but it was enough. He got to his feet and crossed the living area to the far wall where an enormous woven basket sat, stuffed to overflowing with multicolored rugs.
She began to shake her head, but he said, “I’m supposed to be protecting you. If you are going to die on my watch, I am sure you would prefer your departure be more earth-shattering than being frozen to death.”
She smirked. “Like having my brains splattered all over the snow outside?”
Ciaran stiffened, and his smile withered. Why did he keep saying this type of dumb stuff? He was about to apologize when Leira waved a hand at him and chuckled. “That was a joke, okay.”
He opened his mouth but no sound was emitted. All he could think of was Leira lying on the white snow, her face gone and a thick pool of blood growing beside her head.
“Hey,” Leira said, startling him when he registered that she was now standing before him and waving her hand in front of his face. “Where did you go off to?”
He shook his head, unable to explain without bringing on more questions. “I just remembered something that I was meant to do.”
She scowled. “Do you need to do it now?” One eyebrow curved as though daring him to say yes.
“Nope. I’ve filed it away so I won’t forget.” He tapped his temple with his forefinger.
The corner of her lips twitched but she suppressed her amusement. Didn’t matter. Ciaran had hope that she’d forgive him a little once she knew the truth.
Then she said, “So? Are we going?”
He frowned, her question so odd that it caught him by surprised. Probably because he was paying attention. “Sorry, what?”
This time she rolled her eyes. “The fire?” She waved in the direction of the door, eyebrows waggling with her question.
Ciaran chuckled. “Sorry, I spaced out there for a second.”
“You seem to be doing that a little too often. You sure you’re as good at this job as you claim to be?” She smirked as she waited for an answer.
Ciaran shook his head and strode toward the door. “Well, I suppose you will know if I fail to deliver on my end of the bargain.” He was half-way out the door when he heard her muttering something about being dead so what difference would it make.
She followed him as he left the porch and approached the fire pit. The small rocks demarcating the fire pit were dark with soot, reminding him of all the time he’d spent around the fire with his friends, back when he’d actually been paying them any attention.
It wasn’t as though they were to blame for his long-term inability to find a mate, but he was reminded constantly because he was surrounded by couples. Through the last ten years almost all of his friends had paired off and begun to settle down. He’d attend wedding after wedding, and had eventually made excuses or deliberately took a job to avoid watching another one of his buddies find love.
Ciaran kicked away the snow that covered the pit, clearing enough space to build a decent fire. A handful of loungers—haphazardly constructed from leftover strips of timber—surrounded the pit, and when he shifted to check on his client, she was already dusting the snow off one of the seats.
“I’ll go get us some firewood. Be back in a sec.” He strode toward her to hand off the bundle of blankets and almost missed the look of consternation clouding her eyes. He stopped in front of her and scanned her face. “Hey, look, there are Hunters patrolling the area. You’re safe,” he said gently.
Her jaw hardened and she shook her head. “Sorry, I’m not taking any chances. I’m coming with you.”
Her tone was enough to tell him that he had little choice in the matter so he simply handed her the blankets and led the way around the cabin. He later realized he should have given her rubber boots but she didn’t appear to be complaining. In fact, her sneakers didn’t appear to be wet from the snow at all.
he’d built a lean-to at the side of the cabin where he stored the wood for the fires. He’d not replenished it in a while and was a little worried that the wood was too wet for a fire. That would suck since he was trying to make amends.
He grabbed an armload of firewood while Leira stood close by, studying the wood with an expression of what he could only define as impatience. He really was struggling to understand this woman.
Still, she looked vulnerable standing there, red hair tousled, a knot of multicolored rugs in her hands. And her knew how much danger she was in.
“I think this should be enough for the first round.” He was glad that he’d already split some of the wood but he was beginning to wonder if that had been smart since some of the wood smelled of wet. Hoping he was wrong, he led the way back to the fireside and arranged the wood in the pit while Leira dusted two loungers and shared out the rugs between them.
“So I’m curious to hear more of your Leira Bond story. You keen on sharing some more? Kinda left me on a cliffhanger there.”
She chuckled. “Well, light the fire and I’ll talk.”
He was grinning as the flames lit and he sat back, relieved he’d been wrong about the wood. But by the time he got to his feet and sank onto the second lounger, the fire had fizzled out.
“Crap.” He got to his feet. “I may need to go grab some fire-lighters.” He’d taken a dozen steps when he heard a whoosh behind him. He spun around thinking something may have happened to Leira but instead he found the wood had flamed back up to life and the fire was beginning to crackle.
Relieved, Ciaran returned to the lounger and sprawled across it, hands propped behind his head. The heat from the fire had built faster than he’d expected and he groaned with pleasure as his legs were already warming up nicely.
Leira laughed softly, then glanced around as her voice echoed. Then she relaxed. “Glad to see that you are enjoying the fire as much as I am.”
He looked at Leira, finding himself relieved that she finally looked relaxed. He knew he would have to make it up to her sooner rather than later because something told him that it won't be easy for him to regain her trust.
“Now do you think that you would take pity on me and tell me the rest of your exciting story?”
She shook her head and rolled her eyes. “I hardly think that any of my escapades would compare to what you have done in your professional capacity. You are the security specialist after all.”
He glared at her, waggling his eyebrows. “You're not getting out of this. I'm dying to hear what happened next.”
She gave an exaggerated sigh, then rearranged the blankets as she settled into a comfortable position. “Fine. If you must hear all the gory details I will for you. But I have to warn you, this could get boring.”
“From what I've heard so far I don't think it will be boring at all.” Then he made a rolling motion with his hand as if to say get on with.”
This moment was warm, relaxed and comfortable. He had to hope it stayed that way for as long as possible.
24
Leira
Leira was enjoying the smile on Ciaran’s face as he watched her in anticipation. She wasn’t at all thrilled about talking about her exploits, about describing in detail her act of robbery, but she knew by now that Ciaran was rather stubborn when he wanted to know something.
She wasn't naive either. She knew that what he really wanted was to find out what she had stolen. How she managed to remove it from the museum was interesting enough, but very soon she would have to reveal to him exactly what the relic was.
But she wasn’t ready for that step yet. So for now, she simply recapped the events of a few days back.
* * *
Leira hurried down the hallway as fast as her legs would go without tripping herself up. Her heart thudded so hard that her ribs were hurting and so were her lungs considering the number of times she’d forgotten to breath.
The florescent lights in the hall were bright, too bright now that Leira was allowing her nerves to get the better of her. Well, that wasn’t going to be to her benefit. Not at all.
Sh
e took a deep breath, slowed her pacing to ensure her steps were even and silent. She did need to move fast because once the sweeps were done--she glanced at her watched to confirm the time—in oh maybe twenty minutes, the entire sub-basement and all the vaults as well as the museum upstairs would be on lockdown.
Infra-red beams ran along the floor and wall in zig zag patterns exactly the way you would see it in the movies. The museum had taken every precaution possible in order to protect the contents of the vault as well as the floors above.
Thankfully Leira had her own secrets which she’d kept to herself. Considering the way she’d been betrayed by Aldrich she’d done the right thing, no matter how bad she’d felt at the time.
Now she hurried around the corner, made a right and was standing in front of the basement vault. The secured room contained countless relics found across the continent in caves and crypts, in canyons and on the highest cliffs.
Today Leira was planning to steal a priceless relic from the vault, one which the world still believed remained undiscovered. There were still dozens of treasure hunters out there, pouring money into finding the relic. At first when the relic had been brought into the vaults, Leira had been the one assigned to clean, restore and catalogue it.
She knew every inch of the tablet and she knew more too, but she’d never spoken to the museum director about it. The revelation would have put her in danger and also revealed her abilities. Something she intended on keeping to herself for the foreseeable future. Even now, Aldrich didn’t know how she knew half the things she did.
She felt incredibly stupid to know that she’d spilled so many of her dreams and secrets to him but thankfully some part of her had refused to allow her to be comfortable enough with him to tell him her biggest secret.
Perhaps the universe knew what it was doing because had she not possessed that tiny bit of distrust she wouldn’t be here risking her life in order to ensure he didn’t get his filthy hands on the relic.
Dark Moon Falls: Volume 2 Page 43
