a Touch of Revenge (Romantic Mystery - book 6): The Everly Gray Adventures (30 page)

BOOK: a Touch of Revenge (Romantic Mystery - book 6): The Everly Gray Adventures
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I patted her cheek. “Pierce’s team has him under guard, so yes, tomorrow will be soon enough. All of us need to take a break for food and sleep.”

Pierce wrapped his arm around my waist, nuzzled my ear. “Sleep, hmmm?”

Warmth spread into my cheeks. “Definitely. And nothing but.”

The mischief drained from his eyes, and he kissed me, so gentle and tender my heart ached with love for him. “When you’re ready, Everly.”

 

THIRTY-TWO

 

MORNING CAME WAY TOO FAST.
I woke in Pierce’s arms, my head nuzzled against his chest, and with the steady beat of his heart tucked under my cheek. It was heaven. My body desperately wanted to share sex with him, but until my revenge was complete, I wouldn’t be a free woman. It was unfortunate that my hormones were extremely unhappy with my common sense. But Pierce deserved more, and so did I. But…maybe…a compromise…

Annie rapped on the bedroom door. “Sorry. We need you out here.” Her voice was stressed. Pierce and I hit the floor running, and were caught in a tangle in the narrow doorway. Pierce backed up, winked at me. “I love a woman who can beat me in a foot race.”

I wiped the grin off his face with a hasty kiss, and made it to the kitchen a good second or two before he did. The scent of yeasty bread, cinnamon, exotic spices, and coffee reached my nose, and my stomach rumbled.

Siofra’s peaceful smile was strained when she handed me a cup of her special brew. “It seems there were a few more underhanded activities going on than we expected.”

Someone had added a leaf to the kitchen table, and the papers I’d pilfered from Fion Connor’s car were spread out, covering most of the wooden surface.

Dark circles rimmed Cait’s eyes. “Fion worked for the KGB.”

Pierce downed a swallow of coffee. “Thought so.”

I whirled on him. “You didn’t tell me that.”

“Wanted to be sure.”

“And?” There was more, I knew it.

“And I haven’t located Fred yet. He has the intel.”

Annie stood, refilled her mug. “That possibility has been on our radar for a while, El, but this paper trail proves it. Connor was a traitor to her country, and did her best to jeopardize our CIA agents as well.” She rested her hand on Pierce’s shoulder. “Her remains, as well as Murchadh’s should be safely at Scotland Yard by this afternoon, Pierce. I didn’t phone with a heads-up. Thought you’d rather do it yourself. And they’ll want you—”

“That’s all minor compared to this.” Cait waived a handful of rumpled papers at me. “These were hidden in Eamon’s desk. I got them out before Fion arrived, and tucked them in my waistband. Yesterday I was too sick to look at them, and honestly I’d forgotten until I got in the shower last night. But this morning…”

Siofra slid a plate of fresh-from-the-oven cinnamon rolls to the center of the table, put one on a napkin, and handed it to Cait. “You need some…what do they call it on the telly? Comfort food.”

Cait brushed at the tears pooling in her eyes, then took a bite of the bun. “Read this,” she said, muffled by sugar, cinnamon and perfectly-cooked dough, handing the papers to me. “It explains stuff.”

The information was all there. M6342CN was a body my mother had autopsied, and she’d made a connection between spy dust and the biological weapon she was working on, and had taken samples. Before she had a chance to file her report, she’d been whisked to the Amazon to work with Connor and Grady—at Grady’s request. “But if Fion Connor was the double agent, why did Grady want—”

Pierce had been reading over my shoulder, and gently pushed me into a chair. He pointed midway down the page. “Eamon and Jayme Grady were brothers.”

A cold chill gripped my stomach. “Who’s Jayme Grady?”

His hand was warm and steady on my shoulder. “Your father.”

Black threatened my vision, then faded. “You’re saying Eamon Grady is my…uncle. I’m… How could you possibly know this?”

Cait handed me another page. “Their birth certificates.”

The words swam on the page. “This means I’m…”

“My cousin,” Cait’s tone was dry. “Which I think is great, um, except for the circumstances.”

My head pounded like I’d been hit with a sledgehammer. “But…I don’t see the connection. Surely my father wasn’t part of the KGB.” Panic pulsed through my words.

Lorcán reached across the table and patted my hand. “No,
mo iníon
. But Eamon apparently kept close tabs on your father. He was a greedy man. Word is he stole every penny from your paternal grandparents way back when they were both doing poorly.”

Siofra nodded. “Your grandfather was part of the Circle of Nine, and both Eamon and Jayme grew up with the teachings, just as I did. We didn’t know each other as children, but that connection is why Eamon sought refuge at Tuatha Dé Danann. He knew I couldn’t turn him away. It’s a covenant of the Circle.”

“I’m not getting it. Just how deep is the connection between this Circle group and the commune?” Some serious research on the Circle of Nine and Tuatha Dé Danann had just jumped to the top of my to-do list.

She shook her head. “Just through me. I believe it’s one of the reason’s Fion Connor attacked me last night. She assumed I was a student of Circle teachings, and that I might have cultivated some of the gifts attributed to them. I belong to the Templebryan Stone Circle, which was originally nine stones, but we only have four that are still standing. We practice a benign form of sorcery.”

It was beginning to click into place. “I wonder if Fion Connor studied something like that as well. I’ve been thinking she was a witch, only her practice was malicious rather than benign.”

“I don’t know anything about her, but there’s more here about both her and Eamon.” Siofra handed me a sheet of paper from the top of her stack. “Both Connor and Grady have been consuming various forms of what they referred to as The Formula since before they left the…” She glanced at Cait.

“Megiddo Project.”

“Yes.” Siofra nodded. “And they recorded the changes in their bodies and minds over the years. I only made it through a page or two of the data before we decided it was time for you to join us. It wasn’t right to delve into your history without your permission.” There was an implicit apology in her voice.

“It was my decision to start without you.” Annie frowned. “I thought it would be helpful to let you get some extra sleep this morning, and if the rest of us scanned through this information—”

“It’s okay, Annie. I need all the help I can get with this. And it sounds like a lot of the information should be turned over to US intelligence. The question is, which agency?”

“Fred.” Pierce—no room for question or argument in his voice.

I accepted his answer as reasonable, and moved on. “We should get dressed and visit my…Uncle Eamon.” His name stuck in my throat. That we were related, that he was guilty, even if it was only complicit, in my parents’ murder was…there were no words for my jumbled emotions.

Pierce nodded. “Yeah. Need to get this wrapped up. You can use the shower first. I need to make some calls before Scotland Yard gets bent.”

Yes! Escape. I really needed a break from the twists and turns my life had taken, and the shower was the perfect place to pull myself together. “Sounds good. This mess couldn’t possibly get any worse.”

All four of them stared at me, eyes wide. “Oh, damn. I just jinxed any possibility it won’t get worse, didn’t I?”

Four nods. I escaped to the bathroom.

Thirty minutes later Pierce, Annie and I were on the trail to Grady’s house. “Do we have a plan for this, or are we winging it?” I asked them.

Pierce tapped his phone. “Got word while you were in the shower that Grady is abusively angry. My team has the situation controlled, but requested backup. We’re it.”

Annie marched right up to the front door and knocked. “Let’s see if he invites us in.”

He didn’t. One of Pierce’s team opened the door, his inscrutable expression slipping to uninhibited relief. “Boss.”

“Take a break, both of you. We’ve got this.”

They were out the door before Pierce finished his sentence.

Prickles hit my neck. “Looks like we’re in for another interesting confrontation.”

“You have questions for him, right?” Annie asked.

“Yes. Wouldn’t we all like clarification on the details of the Megiddo Project?”

Annie frowned. “I can probably get it if I dig far enough into cyberspace.”

I snorted. “Why waste your time when he’s right here?”

She shrugged. “I’m going to do it anyway. I have to be sure what he tells us is truth or lies.”

An emotional weight dropped on my shoulders. “Yeah. Me, too. Thanks for having my back.”

Grady spotted us. “Who the hell…? Well, shit, if it isn’t little Everly Gray.”

How the hell did everyone know me? It was unnerving. “That’s me. And you’re the man who conspired with Fion Connor to murder my parents.” There was something very satisfying about getting right to the point.

“Your mother was fucking uncooperative.” He shrugged. “She needed to be eliminated.”

My temper exploded. “You son of a bitch.” I hauled back and planted my fist on his jaw.

Annie caught my arm before I landed the second punch. Whoa, but my fist hurt. I shook out my aching fingers.

Pierce grinned.

Grady stood, shoving his wheelchair aside. “That’s the last mistake you’ll make, you little slut.”

Pierce’s grin faded, and before I could blink, Grady was on the ground in a headlock with Pierce’s knee boring a hole in his spine. “You’ll want to apologize to the lady.”

“Not lady. My chattel.” Grady’s words were strangled, and he’d turned beet red.

There was something about his choice of words… I shivered, touched Pierce’s shoulder. “Let up a titch, okay? I have some questions.”

I backed up a few feet to get a better view of Grady’s face. “You look nothing like James Gray, but I understand you’re brothers.”

“Some brother,” he spat. “Let me rot away to nothing. Both Jayme and that bitch he married had the cure, wouldn’t share it. Made me a cripple. But I got back at them.”

I barely controlled the urge to kick him. Hard enough to break a few ribs. “And exactly how did you do that?” My tone was sugary enough to make a seven-year-old sick.

“Sold the bloody formula. Fion and I split the take. I bought this house, and she poured her share into that damned estate. Haven’t been able to get a stable batch for a few years. Buyers dried up when it didn’t work as advertised.”

He’d started to gasp for air. “Can we get him back in his wheelchair? He’s fading, and I want to know about Cait.”

Pierce hauled him up, dropped him in the wheelchair.

Eamon Grady gave me a spine-chilling grin. “My little by-blow. Has a lot of her mother in her, both nasty bitches.”

I crossed my arms, glared at him. “All women in your world are bitches?”

He sputtered. “Fion wasn’t so bad. Understood the importance of creating a kid, testing the formula. But Muerte, ha, G-r-a-y.” He dragged out the sounds. “She didn’t get it. Fought me every step of the way.”

He spun the wheelchair around, and was in the kitchen before I could react. Pierce and Annie beat him, but he angled around them. “Just getting a drink.”

Pierce backed up two steps.

Annie leaned out of his way but didn’t move.

Grady grabbed a glass beaker of cloudy liquid from the refrigerator and chugged it, then threw the container against the wall. It shattered into a gazillion pieces, covering the floor with shards of murky glass.

Annie grabbed his hand, twisted. “What was that?”

“The rest of the magic formula.” He collapsed into maniacal laughter, tears running down his cheeks.

It made no sense. “There isn’t any left. The formula died with my mother.”

Grady wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Fion and I reproduced it. Damn close to it, anyway.”

He was sweating profusely. I cleared my mind, chanced a quick scan of his aura. “We need an ambulance. He’s dying.”

“That I am, little girl.”

Pierce was on his phone. I turned on Grady, sickness building in my stomach. “What did you mean about my mother fighting you?”

He flicked a finger at me, back at himself. “She didn’t understand the importance of us having a kid. I had to…persuade her.”

Bile leaked into my throat.

Grady wheezed, fighting for breath. “F-forced h-h-her. …D-daughter.”

 

THIRTY-THREE

 

I RAN OUTSIDE GRADY’S HOUSE
and puked
up the cinnamon roll.

Eamon Grady couldn’t possibly be my father. It was too horrifying for words.

The whiney siren of the ambulance was getting louder, and I wanted to be sure someone had searched Grady’s house before all hell broke loose. I hurried inside, side-stepping his body when I got to the kitchen. “Cait searched, but did any of your team go through the house?”

“Thoroughly,” Pierce said. “If Cait wants to come back, or you do, I’ll hang with you. You okay?”

BOOK: a Touch of Revenge (Romantic Mystery - book 6): The Everly Gray Adventures
7.12Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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