Chapter Twelve
Keegan stole glances at his passenger as he drove the surface streets to get back to the historic district of Savannah. Their ship’s cook had a restaurant there. Char needed some food. Beyond that, Keegan wasn’t sure, but he also wasn’t about to leave her alone.
He’d taken enough lives to know it changes you, and Char was only beginning to uncover the dark memories of the day she saved her father.
When he pulled up to Bob’s, she blinked. “This isn’t my house.”
“Since your parents never fed you dinner, I thought I would.” He turned off the engine and handed her the keys. “How’s your head?”
A sad chuckle erupted from her lips. “After finding out I’m a murderer?”
He caught her chin until she met his eyes. “Murderers attack innocents, lass. No one wearing a serpent ring is innocent. You were a little girl protecting her father who should have told her about her abilities, rather than locking her up and having her discover them on her own.”
She pulled back, resting against the headrest. “I keep thinking none of this can be real, and then I remember my dinner date is an immortal pirate.”
A gentle smile tugged at his lips. “There’s more to this world than most people see. Maybe in spite of your father’s magic, a part of you remembered that.”
“What do you mean?”
He shrugged. “I’ve never told anyone my secret about drinking from the cup, but I always imagined that no one would ever believe me. But you did.”
“A federal agent told me it was true. He brought you to my office to meet me.”
“Aye.” Keegan nodded. “But you didn’t try to stab me or shoot me to see if I could heal and make me prove I was immortal.” He scanned her face, wishing he could ease her pain. “Somewhere inside, you believe there are things in this world that science can’t explain.”
She stared out the window. “Maybe you’re right.” She finally turned back to meet his gaze. “Are you afraid of me?”
“No.”
“How can you answer so quickly? You heard what my father said. I murdered two men with my spirit somehow outside my body.”
The anguish in her eyes tugged at his long-dead heart. “Comparing how many we’ve each killed in the past probably isn’t a good road to wander down, love.” He ran a finger along her jaw. “Let me buy you something to eat. One-Eyed Bob is a friend. He’ll give us plenty of space.”
She pulled away from his touch and looked out the window. “I’m not hungry.”
He shook his head. “You may not be, but your body still needs food.”
“Fine.” She peered through the windshield. “I’ve ordered lunch from this place before, but I’ve never been inside.”
“You won’t be sorry. Best hushpuppies and fried shrimp you’ve ever tasted.”
She blinked and met his eyes. “Wait. Did you say One-Eyed Bob? As in the Sea Dog’s cook?”
“Aye.” A crooked smile tugged Keegan’s lips. “When you meet him, you’ll understand why we had to pass him the cup all those years ago.”
He held the door for Char, keeping a cautious eye on her. After all the emotional trauma at her mom’s trailer, if he didn’t get her to eat soon, she might faint.
For all he knew, maybe she skipped lunch, too. He’d never met a woman as driven as this one. Her work might have been more important than a few minutes for a sandwich.
Bob came out from the kitchen and grinned. He was sporting a fancy glass eye during this lifetime, custom painted to match his remaining green one. Keegan favored Bob’s eye patch, but the cook was forced to change each time he “took over” the restaurant for a “fallen” cousin or uncle.
Bob had been the eldest of the crew to drink from the Grail, so his “lifetimes” were shorter than the rest of theirs.
Once folks noticed he wasn’t aging or getting frail, it was time for him to “retire” to a nursing home and reappear with a new eye patch or a beard or a wig. The legacy wall in the restaurant was covered in faded pictures of Bob in all his disguises over the years.
But in Savannah, people were accustomed to quirks and too polite to ask. They seemed eager to accept that all the males in Bob’s family line had ocular issues.
Bob wrapped Keegan in a tight hug and stepped back with a smile. “Who is your lady friend?”
“This is Char.” He squeezed her hand. “She’s a historian, helping us locate our missing cup.”
Bob’s eye widened. “So you know…”
“…How long you’ve really been cooking seafood.” Her expression had morphed from self-loathing to the eager protector of history who Keegan was growing much too fond of.
Bob turned to Keegan. “You can have the corner booth. It’s more private.” He handed each of them a menu. “Would you like anything to drink?”
“Rum,” Char answered without hesitation.
Keegan raised a brow but decided not to comment. If anyone deserved rum tonight, it was her. “I’ll take sweet tea.”
“Be right back.” Bob wandered toward the bar, and Keegan took a seat across from Char.
She met his eyes. “I used to avoid alcohol altogether. Too worried I’d end up strung out like my dad.”
“I can drive you home.” He placed his cell on the table, eyeing the time. “I’m meeting our friend Agent Bale at midnight.”
She tensed. “Not sure if he’ll be a friend once he figures out who I am.”
His heart raced, his gut twisting into a knot. “I won’t let him use you.”
Her eyes shone, and the pain lingering in their depths made him want to punch something or someone.
Before he could say anything more, Bob came over with drinks. “Did you decide on food?”
Keegan handed him the menu. “How about a plate of hushpuppies and shrimp.” He glanced at Char. “Is that all right with you?”
She nodded, a crease between her brows the only sign of her distress. “That’s fine. Thanks.”
Bob winked his good eye. “Be right back, then.”
When they were alone again, Char shook her head. “When I was little, I thought my dad was a superhero. Then he started drinking, and it was like we lost him. I hated that he chose booze over us.” She rubbed her forehead. “After the car wreck…” She knocked back the shot of rum and met his eyes. “I was so angry. My mom worked extra hours so I could go to a therapist, who tried to help me figure out how to grieve.”
He took a swig of the sweet tea and placed the glass on the table. “When did your dad start drinking?”
“After he took me fishing.” Her face fell as she pulled her long dark hair back from her forehead. “Oh God. That was why.” She lifted her gaze, regret lining her face. “I’m the reason he’s never sober.”
Ah, hell. Keegan got out of the booth and went to her side. He kept his voice low. “Let me get the food to go. We can take it back to your place.”
She nodded, stoic. He squeezed her hand and went to find Bob. With the food in a container, he returned to the booth and walked Char to the car. He hadn’t known her long, but he’d never seen her reduced to tears. If the emotional wall she crafted around her heart were to break tonight, there could be a tsunami of tears coming, and he did know her well enough to know Char wouldn’t want anyone to bear witness to them.
And none of this should be his concern.
Oh, but it was. In fact, if her father or Agent Bale or anyone else tried to hurt her, he would make them pay.
…
Keegan parked in front of her place and reached for the bag from Bob’s. Charlotte’s appetite was nonexistent, but the rum had gone to her head, so food was a necessity.
“It was stupid to run out of my mom’s place like I did, but I couldn’t listen to any more.” She got out of the car, looking over at Keegan. “Now I have a million questions.”
Keegan tipped his head toward her front door. “We can make a list inside.”
She nodded, and he came around, offering his arm. Tonight, she welcomed the support. Once she sat at the dining room table, Keegan went into the kitchen to retrieve some utensils. When he came back, he didn’t take the other chair.
“Do you want some water?”
“I have rum in the liquor cabinet. Left of the fridge.” She narrowed her eyes, daring him to lecture her. It wasn’t fair, but she was desperate to lash out at something. Staying angry made it easier to contain the ache in her heart.
He paused but made the wise choice not to fight her on it. She was in no mood to get counseled on the dangers of emotional drinking. Right now, numbness was the only thing she craved.
She picked up a hushpuppy from the container and took a bite. If her taste buds could sing, they just hit the high note at the end of “The Star-Spangled Banner.” Damn.
Keegan came back with two glasses.
She swallowed and set the rest of her hushpuppy on the plate. “You were right. These are amazing. I usually order a sandwich. I didn’t know what I was missing.”
He chuckled and sat beside her. “Glad you like them.” His phone buzzed. “Agent Bale.”
Keegan hovered over the Reject button, but Charlotte shook her head. “Take the call. See what he knows.”
He didn’t look happy about her suggestion, but he hit Accept and held the phone out so she could hear both sides of the conversation. “Agent Bale. We’ve still got three hours, no?”
“Yeah, this isn’t about that.” Bale paused. “Are you alone?”
“Aye.” Keegan put his finger to his lips, and Charlotte almost smiled. “Why?”
“My programmer at Department 13 is missing after I asked him to follow up on a background check on our historian.” He lowered his voice. “His name is Kingsley Pratt. He used to be a member of the Serpent Society.”
“Never heard of them allowing anyone to leave.” Keegan took her hand. “Least not alive.”
Charlotte’s pulse thrummed. Although she was pissed at her parents for their deception, she wasn’t ready to lose her father to the Serpent Society, either.
“Exactly.” Agent Bale cleared his throat. “I helped him fake his death to get them off his tail.”
Charlotte pressed her lips together to keep quiet.
Keegan’s voice was tight, controlled. “What does this have to do with me?”
“In trade for helping him disappear, Kingsley agreed to come and work for me, but he left a family behind in Savannah.” He paused. “If he has a connection to Dr. Sinclair, he could be back in town trying to find her. He’s putting his life in jeopardy if the Serpent Society finds him.”
“Still not seeing what your missing programmer has to do with me.”
“I don’t have time to play games.” Bale cursed under his breath. “He could be looking for Dr. Sinclair.”
“What do you want from me?” Keegan focused straight ahead.
Shit. Char stared up at the ceiling. She should’ve let her father finish telling her what Agent Bale knew, but one thing was certain: Her father believed his boss would want to collect her like some type of paranormal weapon.
“Dr. Sinclair seems to trust you. Mention Kingsley’s name. See if she’ll tell you their connection.”
“Fine.” Keegan met her eyes, his jaw tight. “I’ll let you know if I hear anything.”
“See you at midnight.” Agent Bale ended the call.
Keegan stuffed his phone in his pocket and shook his head. “If your father is right and Agent Bale already suspects who you are, he’ll also know what you can do.”
Charlotte rubbed her temple as more memories encroached, flashing through her mind. “I can’t do anything. And if I could, all of that is locked in that box on a boat.”
“You don’t remember any of it?”
She swallowed a lump in her throat, her pulse kicking up a notch. “I’m starting to get glimpses of that day. I was scared and angry when I heard them hit my father. I think one of them threatened to kill him, and…”
Her words drifted off as a swell of emotion choked her. All that rage and fear coiled inside her like a cobra until it… “Something dark came out of me. I wanted to protect him.”
Keegan cupped her cheek, his touch drawing her back from the abyss. His eyes searched hers. “Could you do it again?”
“I don’t know.” Her breath caught. “I’d never seen my father afraid until he lifted me out of the hiding place. He was covered in blood.”
It was all coming back now. Her father telling her not to look at the bodies. His reassurances that she would never remember, followed by a quick chant and invisible symbols he wrote in the air with his hands. It must’ve been a spell to lock the memories away in that dark box on the boat.
Acid bubbled in her stomach. “Maybe I should tell Agent Bale. What if now that I know…” She met his eyes, forcing out the words that scared her most. “What if I’m dangerous?”
“You’re no more dangerous today than you were yesterday.” Keegan took both her hands in his, his gaze locked on hers. “Every person can be pushed to cross that line. We’re all deadly when we’re threatened. Those men were going to kill your father, and they would have killed you, too. You did what anyone else in this city would have done, love.”
For a moment, staring into his eyes, she found hope and stability in the tempest of emotions swirling inside her. Her father’s drinking and her mother’s enabling all began when they got home that day.
They may have escaped from the Serpent Society alive, but she’d been on her own emotionally ever since.
Until tonight.
Tonight, there was someone with a firm grip on her hands, telling her she wasn’t alone.
Tears welled up like a rogue wave. She pulled her hands free of his and wrapped her arms around his neck, clinging to Keegan like she might never let go.
His strong arms moved around her, holding her close as his lips brushed her neck. “You’re stronger than you know, Char.”
A sob racked her shoulders, and the protective wall she’d built around her heart after her mother told her that her father died in a car accident shattered. Tears ran down her cheeks as she struggled to catch her breath.
Keegan’s hold on her never faltered.
She wasn’t sure how long she ugly cried against his chest, but she was amazed he didn’t flinch when she finally pulled back. Her mascara must’ve been dripping all the way down her face.
“Sorry…I don’t know what came over me.”
He caught her chin, bringing her attention to him. “Don’t apologize. I’m not going anywhere.” Worry lined his eyes for a second, but it vanished almost as soon as it appeared. “After I find the Grail tonight, I’ll take you to meet a bloke I know who can get us the papers we need. We’ll get you another deceased father, one who isn’t working for the government.”
He lowered his hand, and she reached for the glass of rum. One sip warmed her from the inside out, easing her discomfort with her moment of weakness. “One problem at a time. What if the meeting tonight is a trap?”
Keegan glanced out the window. “It probably is. I was going to get the lay of the land earlier tonight, but there were more important issues to tend to.”
“Oh God.” She set the glass down harder than she intended, her eyes locked on his. “You should have told me. I could’ve gone to my mom’s alone.”
Keegan was about to walk into a trap blind, and if his immortality was wearing off, he could die because she’d been too scared to check on her mother on her own.
She broke eye contact, shaking her head. “You can’t go tonight.”
He chuckled, focusing on her again. “They can’t kill me, love.”
“Not as far as you know, but you might not be as immortal as you were before. That’s why you need the cup back.”
He swiped his glass off the table and took a sip. “Eli was driving almost a hundred miles per hour and hit a tree. His injuries were massive. I can handle a gunshot or two.”
“What if it doesn’t work like that?” She wrapped her hands around the glass of ice, welcoming the cold sting against her palms. “I won’t be able to live with myself if something happens to you because you didn’t scope out the rendezvous point and look for a trap.”
He raised a brow. “I’ll have surprise on my side, lass. They expect they can kill me. They don’t know I’m immortal.”
“Were immortal. You have no idea if you still are.”
He knocked back the rest of his rum. “I’ll know soon enough.”
“Not funny.” She pushed the drink aside and picked up another hushpuppy. “This isn’t a game.”
Keegan straightened in his chair. “When you take death off the table, life can be an overwhelming burden. You need games to keep your head clear.” He reached over to take her hand and lifted it to his lips as he whispered against her skin, “I’ll be back tonight, and then we’ll get you a new birth certificate.” He lowered her hand, determination in his eyes. “Agent Bale will have legal proof that you’re not Pratt’s daughter.”
She squeezed his hand. “Maybe we should just tell him. It’s not like I have any powers for him to use.”
“You don’t know that, love.”
Keegan wasn’t smiling. Charlotte pulled away from his touch and leaned back in her chair. “My father said he locked it away with a spell. That’s why I get seasick. He was warding me away from the memories.”
“Aye.” He nodded. “But the octopus is out of the pickle jar now, and there’s no putting it back inside. You said the memories were returning. Makes sense that the power will come back to you, too.”
“That’s insane.” She stared at her hands. “I don’t have any superpowers other than researching.”
He stood up. “I’ve got to meet Agent Bale at the rendezvous spot, but I want you to consider something.”
“What?”
The light shone in his green eyes. “Pirates fight with whatever weapons they have at hand. If the day comes, we might need your gift.” His true accent bled into his speech. “Best you stop pretendin’ it doesn’t exist and start learnin’ to master it.”
Her jaw dropped. “According to my dad, I killed people without touching them. This isn’t a gift, Keegan. If I sift through these memories, it’s not an ability I’ll uncover, it’s a curse.”
“You saved your father’s life and probably your own, too.” He shook his head. “Survival is hardly a curse, love.”
“You’d better survive tonight.”
“No worries, lass. I’ll be back on yer porch soon enough…” He went to the door. When he looked over at her again, that pirate swagger was back in full force, his lips curved in a confident, knowing smile. Her car keys jangled as he pulled them from the pocket of his jeans. “I have to return your car.”
Before she could warn him to be careful with it, he was gone.
But the truth whispered through her heart.
She didn’t give a damn about her car.