20 A New Ally
Chapter Twenty
A New Ally
L ocke waited outside Pierce’s office, his heart still roaring in his chest. All that had happened with Mae had given him hope. Now he had to squash it. He could not continue to linger in that dream.
He needed to at least pretend he could forget her. It didn’t matter that she had heard his truths and, despite all his misgivings, she still wanted him, still trusted him enough to…
Lying with her was the closest he had gotten to living, truly living. He had never known the spoils that an honest life could bring, not until he had been with her. He was almost dizzy from the bliss. And he still had to give it up?
He stopped his pacing abruptly. Of course, those moments with her had changed nothing. He had to turn his back on her. Though he meant it for her own good, it certainly did not feel that way.
In the library, he had debated long enough. If he must do this, he would do it before his resolve weakened. Whatever the details Pierce needed to provide, he would gather and accept them.
His only fear was that this new life would continue for too long. The finest pleasures would never be enough to thwart his isolation. He’d soon become a machine. He fought back the anguish, feeling his throat, chest, and whole body harden to steel. Already, he wanted to return to his room, to escape within her arms .
He played their last few moments over again in his mind. He had watched her drift off to sleep, looking so peaceful, more so than any day since he’d met her. Somewhere in the night, he had fallen asleep himself, but when he’d woken early that morning, he’d known he couldn’t stay. Taking in her beautiful face one last time, he’d been determined to remember every detail, storing it away for future use.
That should not have been their last time together. He clenched his fist, feeling himself giving in, not knowing if could stand a second longer of this fate.
At a flicker of movement, he looked up and stilled his grinding teeth. A guard, one with a short beard whom he recognized from earlier, appeared at the threshold. Pierce had been speaking to him for quite some time and Locke had grown tired of waiting. But as the guard brushed past, all that was forgotten. Something in the guard’s sympathetic gaze cautioned him. Something was wrong.
Locke stepped into the doorway, taking note of the large office, preparing himself for anything, perhaps even a brawl.
At first, there seemed no hope of weapons. Carpeted in gold and green with shelves stacked full with books, the room held an air of pretentiousness rather than authority. But within the varied array of antiquities, his luck held true. Behind a glass display lay stone hieroglyphics and a pouch of excavation tools. If need be, the pick would serve him well enough.
“What is it?” Locke demanded, seeing Pierce’s troubled expression. His heart thudded against his chest, fresh panic surging into his veins.
“Where did you last see Miss Blackthorne?” Pierce asked, quite calm.
“In my—why? Tell me what has happened.” Locke was already inching toward the door, nervous for her safety. But he had to stay. He had to find out what was going on.
“Ellsworth escaped. It appears Miss Rosewood assisted in it. She, too, is gone. Seems you were right about her loyalties. ”
Locke nodded. Since he’d met Miss Rosewood, he’d known how naive and gullible she was, not to mention desperate for a husband. He wasn’t surprised at all she had come to believe Ellsworth’s manipulations.
Locke tried to speak, only his jaw went rigid. He swallowed. “When—When did this happen?”
“Sometime in the night, my men believe. He cannot have been gone for—”
Not bothering to hear the words, Locke cursed and raced out the door. Even that bit of explanation had stalled him too long. If Mae was not in his room, he would never forgive himself.
He ran faster, picking up his pace with every step. Climbing the marble steps, they never seemed to end. His lungs burned with exertion. He feared he might never reach her. He feared she was already dead.
Once in the hall, he closed the distance to his room in a matter of moments. He burst open the door and stepped inside. His heart seemed to freeze.
The bed, with sheets crumpled over to one side, was empty. But the smell of her was still in the air. She had been taken sometime within the last hour.
Like an idiot, he had been standing idle waiting for Pierce. How had he allowed this to happen? He paced along the edges of the room, looking for any clues. But it was pointless. Ellsworth had taken her and Locke knew exactly what he wanted.
Well, two things. Locke took up the pillow still dented from her face and squeezed it. Ellsworth could get the gold for all he cared, but he would never claim her life.
Shaking from head to toe, he remembered Ellsworth’s nonchalant plans. To him, her death would be just one of many dark deeds in his ledger. Locke twisted the pillow and dropped it. Steps echoed in the hall .
Pierce had men crawling all over the place and Ellsworth had managed to escape? Just like that? Pierce had a hand in this. Damn him to hell.
Eager for a fight, Locke picked up the gas lamp and threw it to the floor. He found the largest shard and held it at the ready.
As the steps got nearer, the image of Ellsworth and his men overtaking Mae in the woods flashed across his eyes. The memory near paralyzed him. But with a creak of the floorboard, he was ready for blood again, ready to drown in it, if need be.
Silhouetted in the light of the hallway, a figure entered.
“Locke.” Pierce stepped into a stream of light cast by the moon. All the color drained from his face. Locke stilled but didn’t drop his weapon. He tilted it so that with the flick of the wrist, it might go diving into the man’s neck.
He didn’t care how many had to die for him to escape. He wouldn’t fail this time. Pierce seemed to know this also.
“Once I strike the aorta, you’ll be dead before your guards can scream for help. And I’m an excellent shot.”
Pierce froze. “I don’t doubt it.”
“Now give me the truth.”
“Fine,” he breathed out. “I might have pulled my guards off their watch.”
“Why?” Locke glared.
“I realized something. Without Miss Blackthorne, you’re useless to me.”
“You promised to let her go.”
“Yes, but the life and vivacity that I saw in you was all but gone once you’d made your choice. And Miss Blackthorne… I thought maybe I could at least do with her alone, but then I came to realize without you, she’d be just as dead inside as you.”
Locke couldn’t help but smile at that.
“You can’t imagine all the resources I’ve wasted bringing you here. It was high time my men focused on other more fruitful activities.”
“It didn’t matter what happened to us, eh?” Locke crossed his arms. He didn’t believe the bastard for a moment. It was more likely that the man had gone so far as to order Ellsworth’s release. Pierce couldn’t just let Locke and Mae just walk away. Not now. They knew too much. Ellsworth, who already wanted them dead, would be the perfect man to do the dirty work.
Locke wouldn’t have been surprised if Pierce had offered Ellsworth some kind of deal. He wondered what. He doubted any overture needed to be much.
He had probably requested Ellsworth to stab them both in his sleep. Pierce didn’t know Ellsworth wanted Mae alive. At least for a long enough to find the vault. But Locke, he was supposed to be dead by now. Rather, he wanted a few words first, and maybe a few fists.
“I have another theory.” Locke lifted his weapon an inch higher. Another guard would, of course, be waiting around the corner, but he didn’t let that fear show.
Pierce swallowed, the sheen of sweat along his brow visible even in the darkness. “I could help you…”
“That’s a start.”
“I could return your weapons.”
“Just like you returned Ellsworth’s weapons?” Locke raised his brow.
“Plus some,” Pierce put in.
“Then lead the way.” Locke jiggled the shard.
With a nod, Pierce turned around back to the hall, albeit slowly.
Locke followed along, his weapon still poised.
Locke didn’t know where this man was taking him and for all he knew, it could very well be a trap. But rather than continue to the stairs, Pierce stopped at a painting and pulled on its gold frame, revealing a dark, narrow passageway. He took a candle from a wall sconce and eyed Locke .
“You remind me a great deal of myself you know. Ruthless. Resourceful.” Pierce laughed, no longer seeming to mind that a weapon was still trained on him. “Who would have thought I’d ever be comparing myself to a pirate?”
“As it is, I don’t think you’d last a day amongst my crew.”
Pierce laughed again, the boom of it echoing in the tight corridor. “Yes, well, I do like my comforts.”
Locke continued to follow, the thud of their steps cutting the silence. He tried to see ahead, but the candlelight didn’t stretch far. Beyond four or five feet was utter blackness.
“It was a mistake trying to kill you,” he said plainly. “I see now that you might still be useful… as an ally.”
“If I survive.”
“A man like you? I have no doubt. How’s this? I enlist two of my own men to your service. I’d be happy to provide the favor.”
No doubt with an expectation of payment sometime in the future, just for letting him live. “As in two of your guards?”
“They’d be proud to follow you,” Pierce insisted, keeping his steps quick. “But in exchange, I’d like for us to be allies.”
Locke smiled—the man was quick on his feet. Luckily, negotiation came as natural as breathing to Locke as well.
“In other words, never attack your ships again.”
“More importantly, I’d like you to keep a few things secret.”
“Agreed. But keep your men.” Their loyalty would be too hard to judge.
Pierce paused in his steps. “Are you so sure you won’t need them?”
“Quite.”
“The healing serum, then.”
“You can take it.” Locke reached toward his neck.
“No.” Pierce stopped him. “It’s the least I can do.” The apology, if it was one, meant nothing to Locke. Pierce had let Ellsworth take Mae and there was no knowing how she might be suffering now .
Locke touched the serum. He was glad to have it—even if the thought of using it on Mae unnerved him.
A few more steps and Pierce stopped at a large iron door. He unlocked it with a silver key and swung it open.
Pierce’s light flickered across the room. Lined up against the walls were weapons of every breed. From throwing knives to two large cannons in the back. It was a pirate’s dream.
On the long, wooden table, his weapons were laid out in a row. Locke sheathed his blades first then stashed his pistols beneath his clothing.
“You’ll need this too.” From a wardrobe, Pierce produced a black cloak similar to those Locke had seen on the guards. “It will make us true allies.”
Locke pulled his arms through the loose sleeves. It felt light but warm.
“Nothing can penetrate it. Neither a bullet nor a blade.”
Locke raised his brows. He knew only heavy metals that could do as much.
Seemingly sensing his doubts, Pierce swiped a blade from his waist. “Are you brave enough to test it?”
When Locke nodded, Pierce thrust the blade into Locke’s arm. Like metal, the cloak’s material held firm. The fabric showed no sign of damage. “’Tis a special kind of silk. One of my more favored discoveries.”
“Impressive.” Locke touched the insignia patched on the sleeve: A simple rose with a dagger run through the center. The whole image was embroidered in silver thread. “I should be careful who sees me in the, eh?”
“Quite the contrary.” Pierce sheathed his fine, silver-hilted blade. “Rest assured. Should any friends of mine see you in this, they will come to your aid. One never knows.”
Did this mean they were friends now? The idea repulsed him. The moment Ellsworth was dead, he’d throw away this cloak. He vowed to never speak Pierce’s name again. Locke squared his shoulders, ready to fly. “Now where’s my horse?”
Pierce nodded and led him once more through the passages.
In the stables, even Gambit seemed to share a sense of urgency. Mounting him, Locke gave Pierce one last nod of goodbye, but hardly gratitude.
The man puzzled him. Even though Locke had come to the Silver Order as a prisoner, Pierce wanted only to be allies, maybe even partners. Now, Pierce must have known that to be impossible.
Locke twisted Gambit toward the fading light of day. Just before racing off, he pulled back. “I was right, wasn’t I?” He shouted over his shoulder. “Your prediction was a lie.” Mae had been right to fight it.
But by the time Locke had swung around, Pierce had disappeared back inside.
Locke shook his head. Pierce had fooled him. Of course his so-called future had been a lie. Maybe Pierce had hoped his acquiescence would lead to Mae’s. But she had already known her future. She might have even pictured it. He knew he had.
In the end, Ellsworth’s plans weren’t going to succeed.
Locke focused on the swaying wheat fields ahead, wondering what the man had really seen. Was his future and Mae’s still undetermined? He didn’t want to know.
As Pierce had promised, the iron gate was wide open.