CHAPTER ELEVEN #4
“Bullshit,” he said. “Hemmer gave you the tape. That makes it CDA’s business. Maclean stole the page. Hemmer wants it, we want it. This is a case, Rose. And you are involved up to your eyeballs.”
She wanted to go back into the kitchen. “Fine! You know what? I feel sorry for him. Are you happy, now?”
“Not really. So fill me in,” Nick ordered.
“Hemmer said the tape was a diversion. He’s furious.
He wants the page, and he’s threatened to torture Ian if I don’t get it for him.
” She took a breath. “But he’s easy to read.
He has some power—like the power to time travel—but I know I can take him down.
I told you about the monk. What I didn’t tell you was that he’s really, really powerful.
He kicked my ass, but he seemed reluctant to go up against Maclean directly.
When Ian showed up to help me out, he turned tail, then came here to take out his whatever on the butler.
” She glanced past Nick into the kitchen.
She could only see Maclean’s legs, as he lay behind the center island. They hadn’t changed position.
“Why the butler?”
Sam wet her lips. “Maclean has employed him for decades. He cares about him.”
“That must be a first.”
“Will you ever give him a break?”
“Why should I? You’re giving him enough breaks for us both.”
The one thing about Nick was that he was fast and sharp and always had the last word.
“Listen up,” Nick said. “Moray used to live here in the city under the alias Robert Moran. And Hemmer was friendly with him.”
Sam felt her eyes widen. “What the hell?”
“Two inside tracks that go right back to Moray—one of the most evil beings we’ve ever known at CDA.”
Sam absorbed that. The monk had been a guard, working for Moray. Hemmer had been Moray’s friend. “Brie said Moray had parts of the Duisean and that they were stashed here in the city. How much do you want to bet that the monk’s power is coming from the book?”
“Great minds think alike. Except, if the monk got powers from Moray after he was vanquished, and he’s from 1527 now, I think we can assume that whatever he has, it’s back in the sixteenth century.”
“I’ll follow the monk back! I’m going back, Nick,” she warned.
“What, and leave your poor tragic hero suffering here by his lonesome? You are working a case, Rose.”
She seethed. “You denied me six months ago when my sister’s life was at stake! Let me go back and hunt the missing pieces of the Duisean. You’ve got enough manpower here to hunt the page of illusion. And if you don’t agree, I quit, and I’m going back on my own.”
He wasn’t perturbed. “You know, it’s only our theory that parts of the Duisean are back there.”
“I know you. You’ll send someone back to check it out!”
He almost smiled. “I’ll think about it.”
That was better than an outright no, Sam thought. She’d meant her every word. Some excitement began. Tabby was back there.
“But in the meantime, you are on assignment.” Nick paused, then said thoughtfully, “You know, two of his cronies have shown up here, hunting the one page. I’m surprised a few Highlanders haven’t shown up hot on its track, as well.”
“Maybe they have and they’re lying low. Maybe they’re hunting the monk’s stash in 1527.”
Nick studied her. “Has he told you where he’s got the page hidden?”
Sam jerked. “No. I haven’t even gotten around to asking.”
“When he comes to, work your wiles and find out.”
She thought about Nick knowing about the sex tape and she almost flushed. At least he hadn’t seen it. “He’s not easy, Nick. If he was, we’d have the damned page.”
“They’re all easy for you, Sam. Besides, that’s an order. Not that I think you’ll mind having an excuse to work him a bit.” Nick gave her a disapproving look.
She was never going to live down the sex tape, she thought. “Are you going to fire me?”
“Probably. But not until I have the page safe and secure and in the right hands.”
He reached into his pocket and handed her a torn one-inch scrap of paper. Sam was surprised. Nick never used paper. Everything was on his BlackBerry, his laptop or his PC. “I’ve been meaning to give this to you since we had our little tête-à-tête with Maclean.”
Sam looked at a series of numbers. She instantly knew it was an international phone number. Her gut tightened impossibly. “What is this?”
“I’m not the sonuvabitch everyone says I am.” He shrugged. “That’s Brie’s telephone number.”
Sam stared at the scrap of paper, stunned. What was he talking about?
“Yeah, Sam. She’s alive and well in Edinburgh—and centuries old.”
Sam gasped. Then she realized that Jan had stepped out of the kitchen and was simply standing there, her expression grim.
In that instant, Sam knew that Ian was not okay. “What’s wrong?”
“His blood pressure is dropping. It’s not looking very good.”
For one moment, disbelief paralyzed her. “What does that mean?” she demanded furiously. “He’s a near-immortal! He can’t die!”
“Near-immortals can die, and you know it,” Nick said, stepping back into the kitchen.
Sam stared at Jan, still incredulous. Now, she was afraid.
“He gave too much white power,” Jan said softly. “I guess that makes him one of the good guys after all.”
With a cry, Sam charged past her.