Chapter 48

Come back to me.

Juliet blinked. It felt like rubbing sandpaper over her eyes, but she did it again because she could. She felt trapped in her own body, barely seeing, her arms and legs immobile, but aware of life around her and able to breathe.

Come back to me, Juliet.

She heard the voice in her mind, her name ending in a soft drawl instead of a hard consonant. Her skin felt hot and clammy, and she heard the crackling of fire.

Breathe.

The new voice was harsher, more insistent.

Just. One. Breath.

She did.

Just. One. More.

She inhaled and started to gag until someone lifted her shoulders. She still couldn’t control her extremities, and her lungs felt like they’d been crushed. She swallowed and tasted ash. Someone held a water bottle up to her mouth because she couldn’t move her head or lips.

“Will she be okay?” Samantha’s voice felt like cool water running over river stones.

“I hope so,” Nate said.

Suddenly she was airborne, held in strong arms against a bare chest with a powerful heartbeat. She wanted to wrap her arms around his neck, but her body ignored her mind.

“We can get her out with Tommy’s boat,” Jimmy said. “Then take her to the hospital.”

“How are we going to explain a three-hundred-year-old poison?” Pete asked.

“I have a physician. He’ll be discreet.” The new voice had a French tinge. “I’ll send him to Mr. Prioleau’s house.”

“Will you take care of this?” Rafe asked.

“Yes,” the Frenchman said. “By dawn, the manor will be ash, and no one will know what happened here tonight.”

“Rafe?” Jimmy said. “There’s a helo and at least six dead men. I’m not sure—”

“Trust me,” Rafe said. “Arragon can handle this.”

“Agreed,” Garza said. “Last time there was a fire out here, no one bothered to report it until it was almost out. With all the chaos going on in the city, I’m sure the same will happen tonight. We’ll get everyone back to where they belong, and this will all be forgotten.”

“You’re sure Arragon can do this alone?” Pops asked.

“Arragon won’t be alone.” Rafe adjusted her in his arms, and she sighed against his warm skin. “And I doubt there are any official flight records for that bird.”

“Still, it’ll be taken care of,” Arragon said. “And Romeo, the time has changed. Tomorrow. Noble Jones’s tomb. Noon.”

Rafe sighed, and she felt the shift in his heartbeat.

“Who are all those men?” Nate asked.

“There have to be at least twenty,” Pete said. “And they’re armed.”

Pops coughed again. “Men of the Isle. They’re here to help. Although they’re late.”

“Pops, Grady, and I will take care of this,” Jimmy said. “We’ll assure them the fire is controlled and there’s nothing they can do.”

“Thank you,” Rafe said. “Tell them I appreciate it.”

“I will.”

“Let’s go,” Nate said. “Let’s get your woman home.”

* * *

Around five a.m. Nate came out of the kitchen of Calum’s mansion and met Garza in the foyer. Together, they headed up the stairs for the second-floor sitting room. A nurse had covered Nate’s burned arms with a salve and gauze, and the pain meds were finally working.

When they went in, they found Calum at the window staring out into the dark street below. Arms crossed, shoulders hunched.

“How are they?” Garza asked.

“Samantha has been checked out and is asleep in one of the guest rooms,” Calum said. “Doc Bennett is with Juliet now.”

Philip sat in a club chair, his feet up on an ottoman and blanket over his legs.

Pete lay on the couch, one booted foot hanging off the arm rest. He had a bandage on his forehead and an arm in a sling. He’d showered and put on sweats and a black tank. “Will Arragon’s doc keep his mouth shut?”

“For an exorbitant fee that I’m paying,” Calum said. “What happened at the police station?”

Garza shrugged. “I spoke with Jimmy Boudreaux. No one called in the fire or the helo. The manor burned to the ground, and there’s no evidence that anything happened other than a lightning strike. As long as no one sends out investigators, that is.”

“Will they?” Nate asked.

“No. I checked in at the station. I told my chief about the terrorist’s safe house and led the raid. I just left my partner there. It’s enough to keep everyone busy and not ask questions about what else I was doing tonight. I’ll write up my reports tomorrow.”

“You’re sure we got all the ‘other’ evidence out of Delacroix’s place?” Philip asked.

“Yes. They found the C-4 but nothing else that will lead them to Montfort, the Fianna, or Nate’s unit.”

Ivers came in carrying a tray with bottles of water and hot coffee.

Calum opened a bottle and drank deeply. “The charges against Rafe for that SPO murder?”

“Since the witness and the evidence have disappeared—thanks to Arragon—they’ve no reason to bring him back in. I’ll write up a report letting him off. Rafe should probably stay away from cops for a while.”

“Did anyone else break out when the power failed?” Pete asked.

“A few. The added confusion buys us time.” Garza opened his own bottle and finished it in four swallows.

“Good.” Calum went back to his position near the window.

Rafe came in and took one of the coffees. He’d been rebandaged and had added a few more to his collection, including one around his right hand. “Thank you, Ivers.”

Philip struggled to get up until Calum pushed him back down. Pete swung his legs around and sat forward, his arms on his thighs.

“How is she?” Nate and Calum asked together.

“Breathing on her own. Her vital signs look good. Her heart rate and pulse are normal. The doctor took blood samples, and we’ll have to wait for the results. Hopefully there’s no permanent liver, kidney, or neurological damage.”

Nate sat on the arm of a club chair. “How long?”

“A few days, hopefully.”

Garza exhaled like it was the first time he’d taken a breath all night. “Can someone tell me what the hell happened?”

“I’m still not sure how Mr. Delacroix became Balthasar,” Philip said.

Rafe ran a hand over his head. Like everyone else, he’d showered and put on clean clothes—in his case, a pair of low-slung jeans and a black T-shirt. “A year ago, Balthasar and Escalus were sent here by the Prince to make inroads into Savannah society. An undercover, in-plain-sight kind of operation. It’s a plan only used for long-term missions, and this mission was to find Anne Capel’s vials. Somewhere along the way, Escalus betrayed the Prince and started working for a man in New Orleans, promising to sell him the vials once they were found. When Escalus died, Balthasar went rogue as well and agreed to sell this man the vials and access to Juliet’s land.”

Nate reached for Ivers’s tray and took a coffee. “When I was in the manor, Deke told me Balthasar had the helo to pick up him, Juliet, and that creepy lawyer. They were going to take Juliet to New Orleans where Balthasar was going to marry her and lease the land back to this man. With the vials and access to the lilies, this man would then develop some kind of biological agent he could market as street heroin or some other kind of illegal drug.”

Garza hissed low. “My chief says we’ve seen the worst of this heroin epidemic. The dealers and the dead are drying up. We’re almost back to pre-crazy numbers.”

“Which means this man may be out of his practice batch.” Nate paused. “There’s something else. Deke mentioned someone’s been poisoning me since Afghanistan. Lacing the Z-pam I’ve been taking to control my seizures.”

“Dammit,” Pete said. “I told you—”

“Pete,” Rafe said quietly. “There’s enough blame to go around.”

“Did you tell the doctor?” Calum asked.

“Yes. He took some blood samples and gave me another prescription.” Nate stared at Pete. “A real prescription to help the headaches.”

“There’s something I don’t understand.” Philip threw off his blanket. “Why not cultivate the lily somewhere else?”

“According to Deke, who was quite the chitchatter,” Nate said, “this man has tried that and failed. Because Juliet’s lily is a hybrid, it doesn’t propagate well. It needs specific growing conditions including well-draining soil with a high level of naturally occurring phosphates. Deke also mentioned a rare bird that sows flower seeds in its droppings.”

“Balthasar was going to take her to New Orleans and keep her hidden?” Philip said.

“The man Balthasar was working for has money,” Rafe said. “It wouldn’t take much to keep her a prisoner.”

“Dudes.” Pete flung himself back against the couch and covered his eyes with his good arm. “When these women wake up, I’m teaching them how to defend themselves. This is ridiculous.”

Garza asked, “And the lawyer?”

“Dead,” Rafe said.

“After you beat the shit out of Balthasar,” Nate said.

“And laid down sniper fire,” Pete said. “Well done.”

“Sorry we missed that,” Garza said. “We got stuck in that god-awful river. How did Juliet end up drinking the poison?”

“She was the key to everything,” Rafe said. “Without her, Balthasar had nothing to sell to the man in New Orleans and the land would end up with the federal government.”

“Balthasar also needed Juliet to help him find the second vial,” Nate added.

“Good God,” Philip said softly. “She sacrificed herself to save the rest of us.”

“She was relying on us to save her,” Nate said. “She knew where the other vial was and was hoping one of us would find it and save her before it was too late.”

Too bad he and Grady had gotten caught trying to rescue the women. Maybe Pete was right. Maybe Nate needed remedial street-fighting training.

As far as the poisoning info went, he simply wasn’t in the right headspace to deal with that yet. Hopefully his blood work would come back normal and the new meds would help.

Rafe gripped Nate’s shoulder. “Thank you.”

Nate covered Rafe’s hand with his own.

“How’d you figure it out?” Calum asked Nate.

“According to Sarah, Juliet’s map had yew and oak leaves drawn along the edges. When Juliet told Balthasar to cut off the finial with oak leaves, I realized one was carved with yew leaves, the other with oak. I knew from my reading that yew was poisonous, so I figured oak carried the antidote. I just wasn’t sure which finial was oak until I cut them off.”

They all laughed low.

“But,” Nate continued, “I checked online, and oak trees have anti-poison properties.”

“Wow,” Garza said as he ran his hands over his head. “Just…wow.”

Calum coughed, probably to hide his shiny eyes. “What does this man in New Orleans have to do with Nate and Pete?”

“All I know,” Rafe said, “is the man in New Orleans orchestrated the ambush of Nate’s A-teams in Afghanistan. A low-level arms dealer named Remiel L. Marigny.”

Pete coughed on his own spit. “That fucker is dead.”

“I know the guy who killed him,” Nate said. “He’s in prison with my men.”

Rafe opened a bottle of water and, before he left the room, said, “Remiel Lucien Marigny isn’t dead. And he’s coming for you two next.”