Chapter Fourteen
Charlotte’s mom brought over a steaming teapot with three mugs. She poured as she spoke. “Have some tea, magpie. It’ll calm your nerves.”
Please. Nothing could calm her nerves right now, but Charlotte was too exhausted to protest. She took a mug from her mother, marveling at the warmth seeping into her fingers.
Her father lifted his cup. “Can you tell me what happened?”
His proper British accent was oddly comforting, detached. He kept his cool demeanor in place like he was asking about her day at the museum and not if she had murdered people while her body lay dormant on the sofa.
“I was in a barn someplace. Keegan and Agent Bale were—”
He set his mug down, his brow furrowed. “Your boyfriend is with Agent Bale?” He stood up, wringing his hands. “I should have insisted he leave. The pirate can expose both of us now.”
Charlotte shook her head. “Keegan would never betray us, Dad.”
His gaze landed heavily on her. “How can you be sure?”
Honest question. She hadn’t known Keegan long. But for a reason she wasn’t ready to acknowledge, she’d never been more confident. It wasn’t in his nature. Yes, he was a pirate, but he was also loyal to his crew.
“He won’t.” She set her mug on the table. “I was worried about Mom tonight, and he came with me without question.”
“He wanted information.” Her father rolled his eyes. “Agent Bale probably asked him to get close to you.”
She nodded slowly. “Actually, he did.” Her father’s jaw went slack as she went on. “Keegan let me listen in when Agent Bale called him.” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “He doesn’t want anything to happen to me.”
Her father’s fingers twitched, and he vanished into her kitchen. Charlotte sighed. “The liquor cabinet is to the left of the fridge.”
While he filled his glass, her mother whispered, “You really like Keegan.”
Gradually, Charlotte nodded. “Yeah, I do.” She glanced at the kitchen, keeping her voice low. “But there’s no future. He’s immortal, and according to his friends, he lost someone years ago, and the grief drove him mad for a while. I couldn’t ask him to stand by and watch me grow old and die.”
She raised a brow. “You love this man.”
“What?” Charlotte frowned. “No. Why would you say that? I barely know him.”
“Not true. You studied everything you could find about that crew. I’ve read your book. Samuel Keegan was his name. He was at the helm the night the Sea Dog sank. The stories said he stayed on board until he was sure every member of the crew was safe.”
Charlotte stared at her mother. Until now, it never occurred to her that her mom had read her books.
Her mom picked up her tea again and took a sip before answering. “I know you don’t think much of me, but I’m proud of you, and I watch. He protected you tonight and brought you home, just like he protected his crew.”
Charlotte’s brain finally engaged. “That means he’s got a moral code he lives by. It doesn’t mean I love him.”
“When you needed someone, you called him, and magpie, you never allow yourself to need anyone.” She replaced her mug on the table. “And even though you enjoy his company, you’re willing to give him up to protect him in return. That’s love.”
Was it? Charlotte sat back on the couch, the memories of the fight at the barn filling her head. How had she finally made the hay hook into a projectile weapon?
Her heart.
Charlotte’s eyes widened as she lifted her gaze to her mother’s face. “I know how it works now.”
“Good.” Her father came back with a scotch on the rocks. “You used your energy to move physical items, then?”
Her hands trembled. Charlotte laced her fingers together tightly as she looked up at him. “I killed someone.”
He didn’t reply. The ice clinked in the glass as he raised it to his lips and knocked back the amber liquid. He sat beside her, the wobble in his voice betraying his fear. “Tell me everything.”
…
Agent Bale’s chest still hurt like hell, but the bleeding had stopped. He couldn’t say the same for the pirate’s leg. David held out a small amount of the dried herbs in the center of his palm for Keegan’s inspection.
“These are charmed herbs and roots, doused in water drawn from the Fountain of Youth and bound by oil made from Gilead balm. With the proper incantation, they heal and slow the aging process until it’s almost nonexistent.”
A muscle jumped in Keegan’s cheek and sweat beaded on his forehead, but he didn’t reach for the healing herbs. “I’ll wait for the cup, mate.”
David glanced down at Keegan’s blood-soaked pants leg. “Then we’d better get you to a hospital before your leg gets infected.”
“It’s not healing as fast as it used to, but it’ll patch itself up.” He hobbled over to the bales of hay, leaning against them. “I’ll be fine.”
“Your choice.” David shrugged as he pulled the strings to close the pouch. “Quick thinking with the hook.”
He scrutinized the pirate’s reaction. With Keegan’s injured leg, David wasn’t sure how the wounded pirate got across the barn to grab the hook, let alone throw it with such accuracy, but David had been facedown in the dirt with a bullet wound at the time, so he didn’t see any of it happen.
“Pirates make do with weapons we have on hand.” Keegan raised a brow. “I saved your ‘trained agent’ ass.”
David chuckled, tucking the pouch back into his coat pocket. Keegan hadn’t hesitated, no breaking eye contact and no rapid blinking. None of the telltale signs of lying, but David still had his doubts. If his hunch was correct, and Dr. Charlotte Sinclair was Kingsley Pratt’s daughter, her ability to astral project would make tossing a hay hook child’s play.
If he was right, she would be an asset to his agency, but first, he’d have to determine how to control her. If her deadly power wasn’t containable, she would be too dangerous to allow to roam free.
And he’d need to convince Kingsley of the threat as well, or he could lose his best shamanic programmer.
He’d worry about it later. Right now, he had a suspect to question. He knelt beside the robed man, careful not to block the man’s view of his partner’s lifeless body.
“Tell me where to find the Grail.”
The man stared at the hook protruding from his partner’s forehead and finally shook his head. “If I tell you, they’ll kill me. I’m going to die either way, but it won’t be while I’m helping you.”
David grabbed the man’s jaw with a tight grip, forcing him to look him in the eyes. “I can protect you from them, but only if you give me information.” The man struggled to pull away, but David kept him in his grasp. “I’ll ask one more time. Where is the Grail?”
The man’s gaze darted to the right, followed by a squeal escaping his lips. “I don’t know. I swear, I don’t know. None of us does.”
David glanced over his shoulder. Keegan had the other hay hook in his hand, tossing it up, end over end, before catching the handle on the way back down. Maybe he had thrown the hook after all.
Focusing on his suspect, David tried again. “Keegan has amazing aim. Better make your life valuable to me. Fast.”
“It’s on a-a truck,” the man stammered. “DHL and UPS. Two boxes cross each other, and then ship again. There’s no way for us to know which box has the Grail and which one has a bag of nails.” He wet his lips. “The Lord’s cup was never meant for this world. We’re too weak to face the temptation it offers.”
“Keegan,” David called over his shoulder. “I think he needs a little more incentive.”
Suddenly a dagger landed beside the hood of the man’s black robe, the blade buried in the dirt. David had expected the hay hook, but the knife seemed to do the trick.
The suspect screamed, chest heaving. “It stops at Tubby’s River Street and Amick’s on Tybee Island. We have a standing order to swap labels and ship the packages again.”
“Good.” David got to his feet and glanced at Keegan. “Can you make it back on your own? I need to get a cleaning crew out here and lock this one up in a holding cell.”
Keegan limped over and retrieved his knife from the ground, his voice barely a whisper when he said, “There’s truth to the pirate code—dead men tell no tales.”
David rolled the man over onto his stomach, pulling his wrists together behind him. “I’m an agent for the United States government. As much pleasure as it would give me to wipe the Serpent Society off the earth, they’re still citizens with rights. Besides, there’s no one for him to talk to where he’s going.”
“I’ll let the others know about the drop points. We can shanghai both shipments when they arrive.”
David nodded. It was a good idea that he could have no part in. Even though he worked in a little-known division of the government, if he started making sloppy mistakes like illegal search and seizure of a private businesses, Department 13 wouldn’t be a secret much longer.
Teaming up with the immortal pirate crew on this mission had been a gamble, but Keegan saved his life tonight, and David had to admit the pirates being able to work outside the law gave him a little more leeway. He would just look the other way.
David zip-tied the fanatic’s wrists behind his back and glanced up at Keegan. “Sure you can walk to your car?”
Keegan nodded. “Won’t be able to run, but I’ll get there.”
“All right. I’ll clean up here and take him back to my field office.” He hoisted the guy up from the ground, wincing. His magically healed gunshot wound was still tender. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Fair enough.” With that, Keegan limped out into the darkness.
…
By the time Keegan made it back to the car, there were stars at the edge of his vision. He used to have a high tolerance for pain—it was a requirement for a life at sea with plenty of injuries and not much medical treatment—but fuck he was out of practice.
He lowered himself into the driver’s seat, cursing under his breath. Once he had both legs inside, he shut the door and rested his forehead on the steering wheel, pulling in long, slow breaths. He closed his eyes, and the vision of the hook rising from the bale of hay and flying across the barn taunted him.
Char. It had to be. Somehow, he’d felt her there with him. Near. But it was impossible. He hadn’t told her where he was meeting Agent Bale, and she didn’t remember how to use her power anyway.
It made no damn sense, but in his gut, he’d sensed her with him.
That serpent bastard was going to shoot him in the back. Tonight could have ended very differently if there hadn’t been a deadly guardian angel watching over him. He’d covered for Char and took credit for killing the man who shot Agent Bale. Hopefully the agent believed it.
Either way, Keegan needed to get back to Char.
Focusing all his energy on her, Keegan opened his eyes and lifted his head. He fired up the engine, grinding his teeth as he forced his foot to press the accelerator. The tires screeched around the corners as he neared Char’s place, but he didn’t slow down.
He parked across the street from her house. The black car from the trailer park sat in her driveway. Her parents hadn’t done enough damage for one night?
Keegan turned off the car and stared at the light in her window. When he left, she couldn’t figure out how to use her power. She didn’t even believe it still existed. Her father must’ve “helped” get her into the barn. But how?
He wished he could convince himself the dead fanatic was the victim of an angry poltergeist.
His knee still hurt like a son of a bitch, but it held his weight when he got out of the car. Good enough. He needed to protect Char. He didn’t trust her father, and he had no intention of letting him see any sign of weakness.
The stairs up to her front door were torture. Sweat rolled down his forehead, but he reached for the knob. When he opened it, Char was on the couch with her mother beside her, and her father was on his feet pacing. Everyone froze.
He pushed the pain back, hiding it with his familiar bravado. “Am I interrupting something?”
Her father glanced at Char, but she was already on her feet. She crossed to him and wrapped her arms around him, her voice muffled against his chest. “I need to talk to you.”
He slid his arm around her waist, his gaze narrowed on her father. “I can stay with her.”
“I don’t think we’re finished here.” Her father’s clipped British accent reminded Keegan of the dukes and lords from lifetimes past. Rich men who built their fortunes on the backs of sailors they sent out to die on the high seas.
“I think you’ve done enough,” Keegan snarled.
“We should go.” Kelly Pratt stood and took her husband’s hand. “You need to get back to Department 13 before Agent Bale finds you in Savannah.”
Gradually, Kingsley started to nod, squeezing his wife’s hand. “Of course. You’re right. I’ll contact you soon, Charlotte.”
“No.” Char lifted her head from Keegan’s chest. “I’ll contact you when I’m ready.”
“Ah, yes.” Her father pressed his lips together, eyes downcast. The first sign of remorse Keegan had witnessed from the drunk bastard. “Your mother knows how to reach me.”
Her mother came closer, running a hand along Char’s arm. “I love you, magpie.” Her mother lifted her gaze to meet his eyes. “Keep her safe.”
Keegan nodded. “I will.”
The couple exited the front door, and Keegan used his free hand to engage the dead bolt. Bringing his other arm around her, he pressed a kiss to the top of her head, his voice barely a whisper. “You were with me tonight.”
Her sob against his chest was all the answer he needed. He bent his knees, ignoring the jolt of pain, and started to lift her up into his arms, but she stepped back. “I’m fine. Really.”
Her face was pale and her hands trembled, but her jaw was set. Determined. He could admire her strength but pitied her at the same time. Char had never had a crew around her or known that no matter the risk, someone would pull you out of that dark hull before the ship sank to the depths of the sea.
He swallowed the lump in his throat, his voice gravelly. “Leaning on someone doesn’t make you weak, love.”
“I can’t.” She crossed her arms. “I’ll fall apart. I’m barely holding it together as it is.”
“All right.” He limped toward the hallway. “Will you be all right here while I clean up?”
She frowned, her gaze wandering down his body. She gasped when she reached his lower leg. “They shot you.”
He peered down at the hole in his jeans and back to her face. “Yeah, but at least we know the Grail’s power hasn’t worn off completely. I’m healing, just not as quickly.”
She came to his side, putting his arm around her shoulder. “I’ll help you.”
He raised an exhausted brow. “So you can help me, but I can’t do the same for you?”
“I didn’t get shot.”
He allowed her to take some of his weight as he made his way toward her bedroom. He left her seated on her bed before he turned to go into her bathroom.
Her voice stopped him in his tracks. “I’m dangerous, Keegan. I should turn myself in to Agent Bale.”
He looked back over his shoulder. “As far as he knows, your powers don’t work anymore.”
She frowned. “He was there when I made the hook fly across the barn.”
“He was also flat on his belly bleeding out.” Keegan leaned against the bathroom doorway, taking some of the weight off his bad leg. “I told him I threw it.”
Char blinked, rubbing her hand down her face. “He believed you?”
“Aye.” Keegan didn’t mention the man Agent Bale took into custody. Keegan didn’t know how much the fanatic had seen, but there was a good chance he might contradict Keegan’s version of events if Bale pressed him. Keegan pushed the concern away. He’d handle it. Char had enough to worry about.
She wiped her nose. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“You saved my life.” Keegan waited for her to look at him. “If that bastard had fired and shot me in the back, I couldn’t have healed fast enough to live. You protected me just like you protected your father. You’re only dangerous to someone who threatens the people you care about. If Agent Bale found out what you can do, he might try to change that, to mutate it into harming those the government decides are a threat.” His hands balled into tight fists. “I won’t let that happen. They’d have to kill me first, and we both know, I’m very tough to kill.”
“Good thing.” She chuckled in spite of her trembling voice. “I wasn’t ready to tell you goodbye yet.”
He scanned her face as the silence embraced them, words he was terrified to speak aloud echoing through his mind.
He might never be ready to hear her say goodbye.