Chapter Twenty-Three
David waited at the helicopter pad when his phone buzzed. He pulled it from his pocket and unlocked the screen. A text from Keegan glowed.
Bale - We need backup at Tybee Lighthouse. Now.
The wind from the spinning rotor blade blew David’s tie over his shoulder and his hair back from his face, as the landing skids touched down. He bent at the waist, jogging out to the cockpit.
Once he was inside, the pilot shouted over the engine, “Where to?”
That was a good question. Keegan’s text could have been a distraction, so the pirates had time to get the Sea Dog out into the Atlantic with the Grail.
But if it wasn’t, the Serpent Society might have heard the police scanner, too. What if they waited on Tybee Island to ambush them? If the fanatics recovered the Grail, they’d vanish again. David would miss his chance to stop them.
Shit.
He put on the protective earphones and called out, “Tybee Island Lighthouse.”
The pilot was one of David’s special agents, trained to keep paranormal threats under the radar. He raised a brow. “It’s going to attract attention if I land there.”
“I know.” David already had his phone out. “I’ll get a team to Tybee. They’ll cover for us.”
The pilot nodded, and the helicopter lifted into the air. David fired off a text to Brenda at Department 13.
Send a cover team and a cleanup crew to Tybee Lighthouse ASAP. Not sure what we’ll find, but there’s a good chance there will be bodies. I’m landing a helo at the lighthouse in a few minutes.
Brenda was off work right now, but everyone in David’s department was always on call. Anytime, anywhere. Their department was less of a job and more of a calling with a retirement plan.
The pilot pointed, shouting. “The lighthouse is dark. Can’t be good.”
“Shit,” David grumbled. “The coast guard is going to be on our asses, too.”
His phone lit up with a text from Brenda.
On it. I’m heading up the cover team, and Salazar is rallying the cleanup crew. They’ll be right behind me.
David responded quickly.
Lighthouse is dark. Coast guard will be automatically alerted. We need to beat them there.
If the coast guard arrived first, containing this one might not be possible.
…
Keegan ground his teeth as Char slid down the wall, pulling her knees into her chest. He wasn’t a fan of this plan, but she was right, they were outnumbered and most likely outgunned. She rested her head on top of her knees and closed her eyes.
Keegan raised his handgun toward the gate. He wasn’t sure how her power, or gift, or whatever the bloody hell it was, worked. The men would round the final corner any second. Would gunshots shock her spirit back into her body?
He didn’t know, and there wasn’t time to discuss it. But she’d saved him once before, and he would bet his life she’d be able to do it again.
The first robed figure came toward the chain-link gate, gun in hand.
Before the serpent member could fire, his eyes widened, his mouth gaping open as he struggled to breathe. His eyes rolled up in his head, and he timbered back, taking two men with him. Their bodies tumbled off the circular staircase, disappearing into the inky blackness below.
It was working. Keegan glanced over his shoulder at Char’s motionless form. Would she wake if he moved her?
Men screamed at the bottom of the tower, and in the distance, a spotlight from a helicopter trailed across the grass.
Agent Bale. Had to be.
Keegan cursed under his breath. He needed to get Char out of the lighthouse. If her calculation about the coast guard was right, time was running out.
He approached her body, holstered his handgun, and scooped her into his arms. Her head lulled, lifeless. A shudder crept through him. She wasn’t dead. No. He shifted her in his arms, and her head tipped into his chest. Better.
Carefully, he clicked the flashlight on his phone. Their enemies would be able to see him, but Char had gotten them this far. He trusted she could handle an attacker. The treacherous circular staircase was a bigger threat to their lives right now. The narrow steps and the curvature of the walls made it impossible to run down without risking dizziness. And from this height, they’d never survive the fall.
He forced himself to take it slow. Come what may, he wasn’t about to let anything happen to her. He was willing to sacrifice his own life if he could save hers.
And it had nothing to do with the fact that she was now part of his crew.
In the dim light of his flashlight app, it was tough to estimate how many more times he would need to circle the tower before he reached the ground. Through the narrow windows, he noticed the helicopter touched down. Keegan pushed his legs faster. Almost there.
When the floor was finally in sight, a hooded fanatic lurched into his path, blocking the final few steps with his knife raised. He swung the blade, and Keegan fell backward on the steps, struggling to keep Char out of its path. The tip pierced right through his leather boot and into his toe. With his uninjured foot, he kicked the attacker’s knee, knocking him backward.
Keegan got up, grinding his teeth against the pain. He stumbled down the last couple of steps, struggling to keep from dropping her. His ankle twisted, jarring his newly healed knee, and blinding pain shot through his body. Stars lit at the edges of his vision. Fuck. He fought to keep moving, resisting the gathering blackness. He wasn’t going to fucking pass out. No goddamn way.
The attacker scrambled back to his feet and raised the knife again, but something kept him from swinging it toward them. The blade yanked backward, joints popping as the man’s arm twisted out of its socket. He crumpled to the ground, shrieking in pain. Keegan stepped around his misshapen form and out the door.
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.”