Chapter Thirty-One
Under a crescent moon, beneath a Seattle viaduct, sandwiched between Zacharias’s warehouse and the ferry terminal, Rowan waited for Morgan to arrive. He was early. According to AJ, they needed to wait until after midnight, when the guards on duty became lightest.
They’d asked AJ to stay behind. This was no place for a human if their plan went sideways.
It should be easy. They’d break into Zacharias’s office and search for incriminating evidence.
A non-issue if the man was an ordinary businessman importing his product from the same approximate location as Atlantis.
It would be nothing more than an unfortunate coincidence.
Which meant the location of those harvesting Oculist power would remain unknown.
But if Zacharias was connected to a rogue element of the Talons, the Grey Council, or an unknown enemy, Rowan should have asked for more backup.
In any one of those scenarios, the men guarding the warehouse wouldn’t be your garden-variety security guards.
Like Rowan, they’d possess paranormal powers.
Too late now for “what if.”
He felt Morgan arrive before she came into view.
The brand over his heart reacted like an overexcited puppy when its owner arrives home from work.
Rowan’s blood began to simmer as Morgan headed toward him at a brisk pace from the direction of a dock on the far side of Zacharias’s warehouse.
The raincoat she wore instead of adding more substance to her only made her appear more fragile, vulnerable.
He should never have allowed her to come along.
Female Wizards had power over water, but the fight they faced was on land.
If anything happened to her, he didn’t know what he would do.
He waited until she was close enough to touch, then clenched his hands at his side, fearful he’d give in to the impulse. “I’ve changed my mind. I can’t solve this case if every time we’re together I’m—”
“Turned on?”
Rowan frowned. The woman was driving him crazy. “Distracted,” he corrected.
She turned her gaze toward the docks. “You are not the only one who suffers. I feel it too.”
The dark shadows lengthening below the viaduct couldn’t hide the conflicting emotions passing over Morgan’s expression. Regret. Sadness. Fear. When she lifted her eyes to meet his gaze, the fear in her eyes remained.
Morgan placed her hand on the brand over his heart.
Her voice was so low it sounded like the waves as they gently lapped against the pier at the nearby ferry terminal across the street.
“You have asked that I remove my brand’s symbol, and according to our laws, I agree.
” Again, those beautiful eyes filled with deep sadness.
“But there is no guarantee it will work after this length of time. I will need to consult the elders.”
Rowan fought the urge to place his hand over hers, draw her into his arms, and tell her he’d changed his mind.
As aggravating as it was to know that she was near, it would be worse not knowing if she was okay.
Being this close to her without touching her tested his resolve, which proved his point.
He needed a clear head to fight what lay ahead, but it didn’t sound like removing the brand was as easy as he’d hoped.
“I thought you could just say a few words and we’d be rid of the connection.” He regretted the hardness of the words he’d spoken the moment he’d said them. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”
Her voice tight and controlled, she secured her tangle of long hair with a silver ribbon and tied it at the nape of her neck.
“The type of brands we have are rare. They are granted to a select few, and thus more difficult to remove. Were you expecting I would take you out to a spring-green meadow sprinkled with morning dew and wildflowers while I danced naked around you? Then, poof, you would be rid of me?”
He did not want to be rid of her. That thought screamed in his thoughts, louder than the roar of a raging forest fire.
He took her hands in his, hoping to banish the sadness from her eyes.
“I find that I do not want to be rid of you, but I do like the idea of you dancing naked in the woods. It’s a better idea than consulting a group of white-haired elders. Can we try that first?”
He smiled at the image of them in the forest, wanting to undo her hair and watch as it tumbled over her bare skin.
He wasn’t so interested in the meadow and flowers, but the naked part sounded pretty good.
She was beautiful and quick witted and a woman who would never need spells or potions to hold a man entranced.
He wondered if she realized the potency of her appeal.
No man breathing was immune to her charms.
Under the watchful gaze of the moon, her cheeks blushed, and her mouth turned up at the corners in a smile. “You are incorrigible.”
His smile broadened. “And you are reading my mind again.”
“It is hard not to. It is shouting.”
Not wanting to let go of their easy banter, he leaned toward her, taking in her unique fragrance, a mixture of sun and surf. When she was near, the world seemed a kinder, gentler place, full of hope and possibilities. “Could we do that? The dancing naked part?”
“Maybe. If I liked you. Which I do not.” The sparkle in her eyes told him she was lying through her perfect mouth.
He fingered one of her curls that had already fallen loose from the ribbon. “Why haven’t you asked me to remove my brand?”
Her lips parted. “I…” Her response was cut short.
He sensed something or someone moving toward them.
Morgan glanced toward the shadows behind him. “We are being watched.”
Rowan shielded her as he turned to face the intruder. “Show yourself.”
Sorsha emerged from around a parked car, moving with the grace of a runway model.
Although he’d asked Sorsha for help at The Inferno, this wasn’t exactly what he’d had in mind.
He wasn’t surprised she’d found him, though.
Her network of vamps always knew the whereabouts of everyone in the magical community.
Sorsha gasped, and her velvet black eyes widened in surprise as she dipped her head in reverence.
“Milady. I didn’t know you would be here.
I see clearly the connection you and Rowan share, and if you heard that we…
It was a long time ago, and Rowan means nothing to me.
Less than nothing. A mistake. He means less to me than a dung beetle. A diseased rodent.”
Rowan interrupted Sorsha’s litany, holding up his hand in surrender. “I get it. I’m pond scum.”
Morgan winked at him before turning toward Sorsha.
The quality of her voice embraced the calm and even timber of a leader.
“Sorsha, your relationship with Rowan is in the past and I was pleased to learn that it ended amicably. Cassandra has told me of your efforts to bring stability in your community. You are a strong and capable leader. It is an honor to meet you at last. We appreciate your willingness to help us.”
Sorsha inclined her head. “I thank you for your kind words. We fight the same enemy. Vlad has never hidden his desire to see my people exterminated. We were honored when Cassandra asked for our help.”
Morgan placed her hand on Sorsha’s shoulder. “Whatever we find out, know that the female Wizards will not desert you. We are in this together. You have my word.” Morgan’s voice was framed in light humor. “If you change your mind about Rowan, know that he is not mine to lose or keep.”
“Are you kidding me?” Rowan stepped between the two women, a dangerous move, but he felt he didn’t have a choice. “Unless I’m mistaken, we’re not at a Bealtaine Fertility Festival. Which means I’m the one who chooses, not you.”
Morgan lifted a perfect eyebrow as her red lips curled into a seductive smile. “Male Wizards are so adorable when they’re talking nonsense, don’t you agree, Sorsha? The choice was mutual.”
Morgan was right, of course, but Rowan considered pointing out that vamps rarely gave their victims a choice, but now was not the time to make that distinction.
If Sorsha was to be believed, she was trying to rectify that scenario.
Plus, Morgan trusted Sorsha to fight alongside them against Vlad, and Sun Tzu’s statement that “The enemy of my enemy is my friend” was as true today as it was over four thousand years ago.
Rowan let out a breath. “We are here to find out if there is a connection between Vlad and Zacharias’s warehouse.
According to AJ, there is a change of security guards at midnight.
For added measures, she also hacked into Zacharias’s security system and programmed it to shut down.
I don’t know how long it will take to find evidence Zacharias is working with Vlad.
If it gets too close to sunrise, we’ll understand, Sorsha, if you must leave. ”
“As I told milady, this is not just your fight anymore, Fire Wizard. Since the truce, many of my people have mated with Wizards. Their children are targets of this insidious poison as well. My people and I will take care of the security, and before you ask, we won’t kill them, just render them unconscious.
As far as sunrise is concerned, we’ll help you as long as we are able. Happy hunting.”
****
Rowan always cringed when a vamp said, “Happy hunting,” but he didn’t have a choice. He’d have to trust that she was a vamp of her word and her people wouldn’t murder innocents.
Morgan beside him, they used AJ’s keys and the directions she’d given him to unlock the front door and enter the warehouse. Before continuing, he paused. “Morgan, are you sure you still want to do this? There’s no reason for you to try to find the files. You could wait outside with Sorsha.”
“It will go faster if we both search.”
Logic and courage in a beautiful woman were as irresistible as they were annoying. “What if I can’t protect you?”
“I’ll let you know when I need protection.” It was not so much a rebuff as a statement.
She was his equal. He was not sure how he felt about that. Yes, he did. He gritted his teeth, fighting the impulse to kiss her. Instead, he headed toward the staircase and Zacharias’s office.
Rowan clicked on a small pinpoint flashlight to guide their way up a metal staircase, climbing slowly to keep their steps from echoing over the vacant warehouse.
Zacharias’s office wasn’t what Rowan had expected.
Instead of mahogany, brass and priceless artwork, there were used metal filing cabinets, a desk that looked like it had been purchased at a garage sale, and mismatched chairs.
The view out the office window was of a seedy-looking parking lot instead of Puget Sound or the Cascade Mountains.
The scene painted the picture of a struggling business, and AJ had said there were inconsistencies in the accounts.
On paper it looked like Zacharias’s company was barely making its payroll. Rowan believed that Lyons would be proud of his daughter. From the details in the information she’d collected in a short period of time, it was obvious she’d paid attention to how her father investigated cases.
In AJ’s undercover work, she’d learned Zacharias might not spend his money on his office space or expensive suits, but he liked his toys.
She’d overheard him bragging about the yachts, the seaplanes, and the sports cars he kept in his daughter’s name.
Either his business was more successful than it appeared, or he had something on the side, something he didn’t want exposed.
It was tedious work and a mountain of files to sort through.
Rowan checked Zacharias’s desk and Morgan started searching through the filing cabinets.
Hours after they’d started, scarlet rays of sun stole through the blinds, announcing the dawn.
They were running out of time. Sorsha would have to pull her people from their posts any minute now.
He tried the bottom desk drawer. It was locked.
Reaching for his knife, he pried it open.
Jammed in the drawer were files with handwritten labels.
Without warning, the office door banged open. Three armed men dressed in black rushed into the room, pointing automatic weapons. Why hadn’t Sorsha taken care of these thugs, or at least alerted them? Had she been overpowered as well?
Rowan had suspected that if Zacharias was working with Vlad, they would have hired paranormal mercenaries who could overwhelm the vamps. Rowan didn’t want to consider the possibility that the vamps might have betrayed him and Morgan. He needed to start trusting.
The security guards opened fire, showering the room with metal rain.
Rowan took a bullet in his shoulder as he dove toward Morgan, cradled her in his arms, and pulled her behind the desk. “Stay here.”
“You are hurt.”
“Stay,” he repeated.
Like a fire that erupts from an explosion, Rowan rose from behind the desk, sending a wall of flames toward his attackers. They screamed and fell back, but they kept firing. The sound of the bullets melded with that of more footsteps on the stairs—Zacharias’s reinforcements were on their way.
He could hold them off, maybe even defeat them, but risking Morgan’s life was something he wasn’t prepared to do.
She was pulling the files out of Zacharias’s desk drawer and stuffing them into her jacket. “What’s the plan?” she said over her shoulder.
“I’m working on it.”
An explosion blew the windows out as flames ravaged the warehouse.
Sorsha, the side of her face burned, and her clothes torn, burst into Zacharias’s office with two vamps at her side. “What the hell are you two still doing here? We have the warehouse timed to blow in a matter of seconds.”
Morgan touched Sorsha’s face. “That looks painful. What happened?”
“Got too close to the sun when I was downstairs making sure none of Vlad’s goons escaped. Now, unless you and Rowan can regrow body parts that are ripped from their sockets, I suggest you run for your lives.”
There was not a trace of fear in Morgan’s voice. “I like your plan.”
In one fluid burst of speed, Rowan grabbed Zacharias’s chair and hurled it through the window.
He shielded Morgan with his body as glass blanketed the room.
The surprise tactic worked, stunning the guards for a split second, giving Rowan the time he needed.
He caught Morgan’s hand and they raced for the opening and jumped through the window to the ground.