Authors: Brynna Curry
Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Paranormal, #Contemporary
Devin glowed like a thousand candles lit all at once. Fire sprang from within his cupped hands and created a ring of flame around all he sought to save. Yet to him the flames were as cool as a mountain spring. This was his gift, his element. He wasn’t without defenses yet. How could he have forgotten this? “The Devil won’t have me, MacGavin. Ring of fire, strong and sure, I entrust you to endure. From that which seeks to do harm in deed, shield all that has been charged to me. By my blood and fire I seal this circle. As I will, so mote it be.” Every last MacGavin ran from him and the horrifying wall of fire, but not before it licked out to burn them to ashes. None of his men had survived to celebrate the victory.
His magic hadn’t failed him, but when the rush he’d felt withered and died, so did the wall of fire. He’d have to remember to thank his cousin when next he saw him. Wearily he picked up his fallen sword, much heavier now with fatigue and grief than when he’d proudly charged into battle behind his father, and trudged toward home. The fire, which he’d created, burned a blackened circle around his holdings. Try though he did, he couldn’t breach the shield of his own making. Nowhere in his spell had he blocked his own entry, nor the leaving of those who dwelled there, only those who would bring harm. Maybe when Daemon cast his spell, it had triggered an adverse effect with his? He was as dead to his clan as their fallen laird. There was no way to undo the spell. He’d lost his father, family, and home all in the space of a few short hours…
Devin woke some time later, hollowed out and empty. The emotions of the young man walked around in the much older skin of a man who had seen and done more in a thousand years than could bear remembrance. He remembered his long ago spoken words, blood sealed. He was McLoch and he was forever.
Devin noted the time. He hadn’t been asleep long, but the memory of the dream probably wouldn’t let him go back to sleep. He was in Washington. He could find plenty to do and take his mind off the past. Take a day off for once, play tourist. If he wanted company, he could find Nicolette in her room. He didn’t think so. He wanted no one, certainly not her. She struck mortal fear in him. Commitment, he guessed, did things like that to a man, especially when the man was anything but committed. Today he just needed to be alone. Caution had him gathering the necklace box and securing it to himself, before leaving.
The museum was almost quiet. The weekday and early time attributed to the fact. He passed barely anyone before entering the hall of gems. Then it had only been a group of schoolchildren on a field trip. Their teacher herded them quickly on and he gave a little wave as they went by. Teachers hadn’t looked like that when he’d had lessons to learn.
The hall was empty and slightly darkened to allow small spotlights to focus on the gems themselves. Devin paused only a moment to look at the Hope. Rumor had it the stone was cursed. Rumor was right. He could feel the darkness surrounding it that most wouldn’t have been able to. He gave the sparkling glass case a wide berth and continued looking around, though he had pictures in spades from the day before when he and Nicolette had cased it.
He could have waited for his team. Maybe in the end when he looked back on it he’d decide he should have, but at the moment he couldn’t have asked for a better opportunity. He was virtually alone. He had passage to be there, instead of breaking and entering, which is what it would take in a night job. It was so simple, he chided himself for not seeing the possibilities before. He needn’t even deal with the security. A child’s spell and he’d have want he wanted. No one would be the wiser. There was no way for Gueraldi, or the museum for that matter, to tell the necklaces apart, unless they had them dated. By that time, he intended to be long gone, so far gone he’d be someone else.
A flick of the wrist and he had the copy in his hands. Quick. He said the spell in his mind, felt the rush of power, seconds later Marie Louise’s necklace rested in his pocket. He checked out the dinosaur bones, flirted with the waitress in the cafeteria. Then he strolled out of the Smithsonian with a pocket full of history.
“I have the necklace.” Devin spoke into the phone receiver in lovely accented English. Once out of the museum he had wasted no time in getting back to his room, on his own power. “How would you like it delivered, Gueraldi?”
“How quickly you work when under the right incentive, LeFleur. I’d love to know how you copied such a magnificent piece in so little time. You couldn’t possibly have put a team in place that quickly. It makes me wonder if you do have it at all.”
Devin stroked the center pendant where it rested in the velvet case waiting for him to decide the best way to use it. “Oh, I have it. As to how, that will just have to stay my little secret for now, though I am anxious to be rid of it.”
“Very well, but if you’ve crossed me it will be the last thing you do in this life. I don’t want fingers pointing toward me at the moment. I want it delivered by messenger this time. Ryan Corrigan will sign for it.”
“Of course.”
“Wait one day to deliver it.” Gueraldi cut Devin off without further instruction.
* * * *
Nicolette paced the hallway outside Devin’s penthouse suite and punched her fist into her palm angrily. What she wanted to do was plant that fist right through Christophe’s pretty nose. Jean had checked out and was headed for a flight to Paris. The rest of the team was doing the same. He’d called her room and informed her he was cutting her out, bluntly. The deal was off. See you when I see you. That had been an hour ago. It had taken her that long to key down the rage roiling through her. How dare he? Now here she was, waiting on Christophe. She was sick of it. It was like she’d been nothing to him. Now he couldn’t have the decency to answer the damn knock on the door. About the time she decided to punch the door instead, he opened it.
His eyes still held that glassy faraway look they took on when he performed serious magic. Devin hated interruptions and that spell had been important. “What do you want, Nicolette? You should be at the airport, instead of bothering me.”
Better than a slap, his words knocked her off her feet. She got up in his face and spewed more than a few lewd suggestions in bright rolling French. “You bastard! You think you can do this to me? You can’t just cut me out like that, after what we’ve been to each other?”
He just smirked. “What were we, Nicolette? Certainly not partners. Casual bedmates at the most. It was your idea, after all. You didn’t want more.”
“Well, now I do.”
“Well, sorry. I don’t. I didn’t make any promises to you. You couldn’t call us lovers, Nicolette. That would require love. I never had any for you. Go away. I wanted you. I had you. Now I’m done. I don’t have any more time for you.”
She raised her hand to strike him, took aim and swung, but he stilled her without a touch. She saw the change in his tawny eyes then, something there that appalled even someone like her.
Her fist burned though it had never been touched by more than his power.
“What in the hell are you? My hand? It’s burning.” She watched in horror and pain as the flesh melted off her bones. “Stop it, please. What did you do to me?”
A blink later and all the effects were gone. “You’d rather not know. Do as you’re told. Ever heard the old saying, ‘if you play with fire you’re going to get burned’? You played.”
She backed away slowly as if from an angry dog, or a rattlesnake that might strike at any minute. Only when he closed the door did she turn and run, threw her things into her suitcase, and swore never, ever to lay eyes on him again. They weren’t a team anymore, and she had her own agenda. She wasn’t leaving Washington without the Hope.
Chapter 17
Ryan answered the ring at his door in his favorite ratty blue robe with a cup of coffee in hand. He was expecting no one and nothing this morning. He had to be in the office at nine and hoped whoever it was would be easily gotten rid of.
He eyed the messenger boy at the door with suspicion. He didn’t look old enough to be out of school in the middle of the morning. “Can I help you, son?” Ryan asked.
The kid took a pen from his pocket, tapped the clipboard in his hand, and gestured toward the box sitting on the step beside his feet. “Package for you, sir, and sign here please.”
“I’m not expecting anything.” He frowned and made no move to take the package. It could be a bomb.
“Maybe it’s a surprise from family. There’s a letter that goes with it.”
Ryan scribbled his signature and took the box and letter into his study. Maybe Liv had sent him something. He’d been purposely avoiding her for her safety as well as to ease his guilt. She was safe with Jack. He had to believe that, if he didn’t want to lose his mind. He recognized the flowery script before he reached for the letter opener that he kept on the desk. Christophe LeFleur. He was usually warned when he would be holding a package.
He opened the letter and read it to himself.
Corrigan, I’m to instruct you to hold this until tomorrow night. Be at pier 10 at exactly 1:45 AM. You will be met.
Ryan opened the container, though he wasn’t really supposed to. Inside the foam peanuts rested a velvet jeweler’s box. Flipping open the lid, he breathed, “Jesus!” One look at the necklace and he knew. “I’m in a hell of a lot of trouble.” He laid the case on the desk and backed away from it as if it were explosive. His free hand reached for his cellphone.
“Spiller.”
“I’m in a lot of trouble. I need to meet you somewhere. I got another package.” Ryan’s stomach twisted into knots at the thought of what was in it. He didn’t know the necklace’s identity, but he knew it was old and had to be a museum piece. Baubles weren’t his thing.
“I told you not to call this number, Corrigan, unless you have vital information for me. I contact you remember?”
“You’ll want to see this. Trust me. It came by messenger service a few minutes ago. I hadn’t been expecting anything.”
“Fine, I’ll be in your office by nine-thirty.”
Ryan cleared his schedule for the morning. He should have cleared it all day. When the agents took one look in the box, he might be in jail this afternoon. June had been good natured about all the scrambling, especially when he’d told her to take the day off after she had finished. He didn’t want her involved in this mess, no more than she already was. His secretary had checked his head for fever, though. Finding none, she shook her head and went to her desk to get back to work.
He heard several voices coming through the intercom on his desk phone. June must have flipped the switch on with the intention of hearing the conversation. That meant she was either afraid of the men or worried for him.
“Good day, how may I help you, gentleman?” June’s cheery greeting spoke to him.
“Special Agent Spiller, FBI, ma’am, this is my partner, Agent Wyatt, and Captain Samuel Berringer with the police. I believe Mr. Corrigan should be expecting us.”
Ryan took a deep breath. If she was curious, she kept it under her hat. Good for her.
“Of course, a moment please?” She pretended to buzz Ryan’s office. “Mr. Corrigan, Agent Spiller to see you.”
“Send him in, June.”
“Yes, sir. Will your guests need anything?”
Ryan paced the floor anxiously. “No. We’ll be fine, June. See you tomorrow.”
“This way, gentleman.”
Ryan had been anxious to see the agents now standing in his office, but at the same time had dreaded the meeting. Now here they were, along with the local police. He might be locked up by this afternoon.
“Well, let’s have it then, Corrigan. I don’t like being held in suspense. This had better be good or you’re going to find yourself in a great deal more trouble, as if that were possible.”
“Make yourself comfortable, I’ll get it.” He reached under the desk where he kept a small bolted down safe not visible from the other side. He slid the box out and laid it on top of the desk.
Ryan watched the agent take the box and flip the lid. A collective gasp echoed in the stillness of the room.
“See what I mean? This is bad. It’s been weeks since I’ve gotten anything and it’s never been this caliber. Do you recognize the piece?”
“If you tell me you’ve never seen nor have any knowledge of this jewelry until today, I might be able to still save you. Do you have any idea what you’ve been carrying around?”
Ryan shook his head. “It’s old. It’s made of diamonds. It’s a bloody bauble. That’s all I know.” Some of the brogue he’d tamped down over the past ten years had slipped back.
Both agents laughed, but Ryan noted it was strained.
“This necklace, Mr. Corrigan, belonged to one Marie Louise of Austria, wife of Napoleon Bonaparte, and was given to her after the birth of their son. It is very old, very priceless, and is supposed to be in the care of the Smithsonian Institute. It’s had to have been missing for at least a day or two. Why hasn’t the bureau been notified? Did you get the information on the meeting?”