a Touch of Revenge (Romantic Mystery - book 6): The Everly Gray Adventures (15 page)

I stopped, lowered my weapon, and ran a check on the lock-field I’d healed. Almost complete. I couldn’t kill Connor, not until Pierce was on his feet and talking to me. If the healing didn’t work and there were residual effects from the ward, she’d be the only one who knew how to heal Pierce.

“Good girl. Now put the gun down.”

Pierce moaned. Connor spun to face him, the Glock trained on his chest. “You’re expendable.”

Raw terror shot through me. Cait’s mother or not, I couldn’t stall any longer. I raised the S&W, aimed. “Drop the gun. Now!”

Connor snorted, arrogant. “Put your toy away, Everly. You’re not going to shoot me, not until you know exactly what happened to Kaimi and Jayme.”

Movement behind me. Couldn’t look away from Connor. Braced myself.

Connor hauled her leg back, then kicked Pierce with the pointy toe of her heeled boots. He rolled, groaned. Anger, rich and deep, burned in my chest.

I fired.

FIFTEEN

NOLLA LANDED ON CONNOR’S BACK
, knocked her on top of Pierce. My ears rang with the sound of the shot.

“Get the bloody fuck off me,” Connor screamed, slamming an elbow into Nolla’s side.

I steadied the S&W, fired another round.

The Glock spun from Connor’s hand, hit the brick patio, and skidded to the far side of the tangled bodies.

Everyone was moving. And there was blood.

I drew in a breath. “Pierce?”

Holding the Smith&Wesson steady, I grabbed the neck of Nolla’s sweater, and, using the steady pump of adrenaline throbbing in my veins, lifted her off Connor one-handed. Good thing she weighed about as much as a gnat. Blood stained Fion’s clothes. Good. I’d hit her with both shots, one in the thigh, one in the shoulder. Exactly where I’d aimed.

I plunked Nolla on the ground. “Stay.”

Pierce coughed, then rolled to his hands and knees. “What the fuck?”

“You triggered some kind of energy lock.” I scanned his aura, blew out a breath. “Looks like you’re back to normal.”

He shot me a sideways glare, stood, and kicked the Glock out of everyone’s reach, then jerked his phone out of his pocket and started taking pictures.

Connor spewed a string of curses, kicking at Nolla with her good leg. “Help me.”

The intermittent high-pitched whine and staccato buzz of police sirens drowned Nolla’s response, but her face was twisted with hatred. Didn’t look like she’d be going out of her way to help Connor.

Pierce dropped his arm over my shoulders. “Time to go, Hot Shot.”

I nodded. “You got that right. But don’t I need to give the bobbies a statement?”

“Later.”

It didn’t take but a few steps before I realized Pierce was leaning on me, and it knocked the stability right out from under my confidence. “How woozy are you?”

“Been better.” He handed me the car keys. “Trade you for the S&W.”

I’d forgotten the gun was in my hand. It took a minute to release my stranglehold on it, but I passed it to him with a sigh of relief, and then slid my arm around his waist. “You gonna make it the quarter mile to the car?”

“Yeah.” He didn’t sound sure, but holstered the gun, and then we hit the closest path at a slow jog.

I scanned his energy, and cleaned up a few lingering bits of Fion’s lock-field. Relief streamed through me when he straightened and some of his weight lifted off my shoulders.

“I’ll make it, Everly, but…damn, you have some explaining to do about what the hell hit me.”

The sirens were closing in on us. “Yeah. Got that. We need to disappear before the bobbies get here, right? You do realize I just shot someone. Twice. It was definitely self-defense, but I can’t pretend it didn’t happen.”

His hand twitched. “I’ll take care of it, unless you’re into a few hours of interrogation and a pile of paperwork. I have several attorneys on retainer, and one of them will meet us at the London Yard office with paperwork for you to sign. You can dictate your statement from the car.”

It took a minute for his plan to sink in. “You have people to handle… Of course you do.” My adrenaline high was fading at lightning speed. Good thing Pierce was able to support ninety percent of his weight again. Pulsing lights flickered against the trees from the direction of the driveway. “Guess Connor isn’t going to bleed to death.”

Pierce’s breath hitched. “Another thing we need to discuss.”

“Uh-huh. Car’s right over there, and Mrs. Brumley’s B and B is looking like heaven. We can discuss stuff later.” I helped Pierce into the passenger side of the Citroën, slipped behind the wheel, and started the engine. “Any idea on the best way out of here without being noticed?”

“It’s after one in the morning. Drive like you own the place.” He dropped his head back and closed his eyes.

I stripped off my gloves, stuffed them in my pocket, and concentrated on driving. It was my first time navigating the “wrong” side of the road, and right turns required my complete attention. Drained from a close call at a stoplight, I snagged the first empty slot I spotted in Mrs. Brumley’s block, and then looked at Pierce for the first time since we’d left Connor’s property. He’d slept the entire way, and the odd glow from the streetlights highlighted the shadows under his eyes and the pasty gray shade of his skin.

He must have sensed my stare because his eyes fluttered open. “Let’s get packed and hit the road.”

“What? We’re not done here. No one can trace us to Connor’s…” And then my brain kicked through the adrenaline after shock. “Both Nolla and Connor could describe me. Fion recognized me. Called me by name. And I shot her twice. There’s no way she’d agree to answer any of my questions.”

Pierce reached over, slid the keys out of the ignition. “We need to be out of here in five minutes. Mrs. Brumley paid up?”

“Yes. And I’ll leave her a generous tip.”

It took us three minutes to gather our stuff, leave a thank you note for the Missus and slip away from the bed and breakfast without waking anyone. I called it a win, but Pierce was brooding at the wheel—eyes hooded, mouth tight, and our only communication while we packed had been hand signals.

Exhaustion was rapidly leaching its way into my bones and muscles, but we had to talk this out before I gave my statement. “Can we stop at the McDonald’s or Burger King for a Diet Coke? Neither of them has drive-through, but I can run in. Tired as I am, my statement won’t make much sense unless I get some caffeine.”

Pierce huffed out a sigh. “They’re not open. Convenience store is. Stuff your hair under a ball cap.”

He pulled into a shadowed parking slot, as far away from any bright lights as possible. “Extra-large soda and something edible.”

The hair on my neck prickled. “Edible? Like potato chips?”

“Like cheese and crackers. Fruit if they have it.”

Tynan Pierce, the king of vegetables, grains, and lean protein. I opened my mouth, but his glare stopped any questions. “Right. Be back in a minute.”

We wolfed down the less-than-tasty food, went over my statement, and then Pierce got his attorney on the phone and handed it to me. “Follow her lead.”

I spent the next hour going over details of the scene at Connor’s house. Pierce’s attorney was all business, but she asked good questions and made it easy for me to explain exactly what happened. Minus the witchy stuff, of course.

We were winding up the conversation when Pierce parked in front of an adorable cottage and gestured for me to hand him the phone.

“Picking up a new gun. We’ll meet you at the Yard in three hours, and I’ll send pictures of the crime scene. They should clarify what went down.” He ended the call, shoved the phone in his pocket, unstrapped his ankle holster, and taking a handkerchief from his back pocket, wrapped the gun, then handed me the empty holster. “Glove box.” He pointed toward it, then disappeared into the cottage.

My mind reeled with the way Tynan Pierce got things done. There were connections, and then there were Pierce Connections. Not the same thing at all. The man had an entire network of law enforcement and auxiliary spy-type people at his disposal. I couldn’t decide if it scared the hell out of me, or I was in awe of his organizational skills. Probably both.

He slipped behind the wheel a couple minutes later. “About the papers you have stuffed in your hoodie.” There was a hint of command in his voice.

Curiosity hit hard, and I shook as I worked them out from under my seatbelt. What if the truth was more than I could handle? “I haven’t looked at them yet. No time, but one of the folders has a picture of my mom. Kaimi Maliu. I guess maybe they called her Kaimi when she was little.”

“Sounds like you’re asking me.” He was hiding something. I could hear the hesitation under his words.

“Yeah. You know stuff, and don’t often share.” Yep, there was a hint of bitch in my tone. Justified, naturally. I didn’t do well with secrets, especially when they had to do with my family.

“It’s a habit with Eyes Only clearance. I don’t know if Kaimi was your mother’s name, but I’d bet when she went to work for the military her records were wiped.”

“Wiped? As in destroyed? Gone?” A new kind of fear spread through my gut. What if my mom had another life? “Oh, my God, I could have siblings.” I hadn’t meant to say anything that crazy out loud, but there it was.

Pierce snorted. “Start reading.”

Of course he was right. No point speculating when I had the pilfered documents in my hand. I shifted my mother’s folder underneath the Megiddo Project folder. I wasn’t ready to discover her secret life. “Okay, but I want to begin with the project. Did you find anything connected to Megiddo?”

Pierce changed lanes and upped our speed considerably. “Didn’t have much time, but my source found it. It’s an encrypted file. He’ll get back to me.”

I ran my fingertips over the folder. Now that the first shock had worn off, I picked up a couple images. “The only person who’s touched this is Connor. Mostly when she was a lot younger, I think. Her hands are tan and there aren’t any age spots.”

He shot me a glance. “You noticed her hands when you shot her?”

“No, saw them on my mental video when I searched her office. You know, before we get into this,” I tapped the folder, “maybe we should talk about how you hit that energy lock Connor had on the kitchen door.”

“Read the intel you found first.” The growl threading his words was almost scary.

Not that I was afraid of Tynan Pierce, but it’d be plain stupid to ignore an implied threat. Especially when I was familiar with his skill set. “Yes, sir. Reading now. Apparently Megiddo is an ancient Israeli battle site, but this project was a joint effort of Ireland, Briton, and the US.”

“Megiddo was a famous battle in Egypt. Fifteenth century BC. First recorded use of the composite bow.”

How did he know this stuff? “Right, and it says here there was another one in 1918. It was the final allied offensive of the Sinai and Palestine campaign in World War I. They probably named the project after those battles because it described the first use of a specific weapon, as well as the fact that its use made it a final battle. It looks like my mother’s formula was supposed to be tweaked until it became the first of its kind, and the ultimate form of biological warfare. As in, it killed everything.” The junk food churned in my stomach. “My mother wouldn’t have been a part of this, not willingly.”

Pierce zipped around a red sports car. “Lot of things aren’t done willingly in the military.”

“Yeah, but… Whoa. This report refers to someone named Xola Muerte who worked for the CIA, and it sounds like she was doing the same work as my mom. I’m not liking the coincidence.”

“With you on that.” He palmed his cell and hit a speed dial number. “Got a name for you,” he said, then handed the phone to me. “Spell it for him.”

I did, then handed the phone back. “Who was that? He didn’t say much. Of course it is the wee hours of the morning. Do your people ever sleep?”

Pierce grinned. “We’ve all learned to sleep when we can, and he’s better with a computer than with people. Keep reading.”

“A lot of this confirms what you already told me. The lab was in the Amazon jungle, Fion Connor was the British rep reporting to MI6, and Eamon Grady represented Ireland. Says here he worked for G2. Ever heard of them?”

“Military intelligence.”

“I guess that makes sense, but…oh, here’s their mission statement. They were charged with controlling biological and chemical warfare. That’s not much to go on, but sounds more like something my mom would’ve been involved with. Oh, oh, oh. This could be important. Xola Muerte reported to a handler named Fred…” Giddy with anticipation, I turned the page. “No last name.”

Defeat was so much worse when I had believed there was hope. I skimmed through the last few pages but didn’t find any other mention of Fred. “Damn it. There’s nothing else about him. I wonder if we could…

Pierce sighed. “I know Fred.”

SIXTEEN

I GAVE PIERCE MY BEST
outraged glare.
“
You know Fred!” My words
sputtered, indignant in the silence between us. “There have to be millions of Freds out there. How could you possibly…? Never mind. And you couldn’t say something, like, years ago?”