Epilogue
“These scones are almost worth staying in this dreary country for,” Kate said, licking clotted cream from her fingers.
“Dreary, is it?” Declan asked, one brow lifting. “What happened to ‘the green is so beautiful’?”
“That was before it rained for an entire month. I need to see the sun occasionally to make this place worth it. But the scones are a good start.”
“Just the scones, then?” he teased, pulling her into him. After months back home, his brogue was much thicker now. “That’s all that’s keepin’ you here, is it?”
He kissed her, slow and indulgent.
“Mmm,” he murmured against her lips. “You taste like butter and clotted cream.”
Kate laughed softly. “I’m going to be the size of a house if we don’t start exercising more.”
“Oh, aye,” he said, voice dropping. He leered at her. “Let’s go exercise.”
He kissed her again, deeper this time, and she melted into him, arms sliding around his neck.
“Maybe there’s one other thing that makes it worth it,” she said, breathless, as he walked her backward toward the bedroom.
“Mmm. Let’s see if I can make it worth it two or three times.”
They had taken no more than two steps when a phone rang.
Not their usual phones. A different tone. Sharp. Unfamiliar.
Declan froze.
The bat phone.
The only line that still connected them to their old lives. To Archer. To everything they had left behind. If it was ringing, something was wrong. He gave Kate’s hand a brief squeeze and stepped away.
“Don’t answer it,” she said quickly. “It can’t be anything good.”
He glanced back at her. “That’s exactly why we have to answer it. He wouldn’t call unless there was a problem. Forewarned is forearmed.” He offered her a reassuring smile, although he was sure it didn’t reach his eyes.
Inside, something had already gone cold.
He picked up the still-ringing phone. “Yes.”
“I am sorry to disturb you, my friend,” Armand said. “But I am afraid we have… how do you say… a complication.”
Declan’s stomach tightened.
It had been months since he’d been Archer Gray. But it came back in an instant. The voice. The cadence. Even the Irish lilt slipped away.
“What’s the snag?” he asked, glancing at Kate. The distress on her face cut deeper than he expected. He wanted to shield her from this.
He couldn’t. “I’m putting you on speaker.” He hit the jammer switch without thinking. He’d installed it out of habit, a precaution he’d told himself he would never need. And yet…
“Kate,” Armand said gently, “I am sorry to disturb you both, but things are… difficult.”
“What’s happened?” she asked, her voice tight.
“I should fill you in. Bunny was found dead several months ago. They ruled it a suicide, but—”
“Bunny would never kill herself,” Kate cut in, her tone certain. “Not ever. She would have found a loophole. A way out. She always did.”
Declan wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close. Gone was the relaxed woman from a minute ago. Tension stiffened her frame, as if the old wounds were cracking open.
“I agree,” Armand said. “Stuart is also dead. More recently.”
“The Curator is dead?” Declan asked. “That’s… unexpected.”
“Oui. Officially, he could not live with the shame Bunny brought on the firm. So he ended his life as well.”
Kate’s posture got unbelievably tighter. “No. There’s no way.”
“I agree,” Armand said quietly. “Which leaves us with a question. Who has enough power to commit two murders and make them look like suicides?”
“Eli Fisher,” Declan said.
“Oui.”
Declan’s jaw tightened. “I should have listened to you and taken him out when I had the chance.”
“You had more pressing concerns.”
“But why are you calling now?” he asked. “This doesn’t warrant a call.”
“Thank you for telling me,” Kate chimed in. “But I agree. Bunny and Stuart have been dead to me for a long time.”
“I am not calling about that,” Armand said. A pause. “Eli Fisher is involved. But not alone. There is someone else.”
“What do you mean?” Kate demanded. “How do you know?”
Declan said nothing, but his pulse ticked higher.
“I am hearing whispers,” Armand continued. “Very quiet. Almost nonexistent. But they are there. It is starting again.”
The words landed like a boulder.
“Eli Fisher is working for someone,” Armand said. “The mastermind.”
“My father was the Curator,” Kate said. “We know that.”
“Oui. But it appears even the Curator answered to a superior. Someone who operated from a distance. Fisher is merely the agent.”
“How do you know this?” Declan asked.
“Because Eli Fisher does not have the reach to move girls across borders,” Armand said. “Russia. Bulgaria. That requires connections. Power. Money. Fisher is a front. Not the architect.”
Silence stretched.
“Do you know who would have that kind of reach?” Declan asked.
A pause.
“Very few,” Armand said quietly. “Aside from you… and me.”
And just like that, it clicked. “You need help,” Declan said.
“Oui. You still have contact with people who could assist.”
He could feel Kate’s gaze on him. It was not a thing to step into lightly. But neither was this.
“I can put you in contact with Marco,” Declan said slowly. “He’s acting head of that group now. He may help. No guarantees.”
“Je comprends.”
Declan hesitated, then added, “There’s someone else. More accessible. More likely to say yes.”
“Who?” Armand asked.
“Dragan Maric
A beat.
“Ah. You believe he will help?”
“He has the skills. And the instincts. I considered asking him to take over the Society. But he doesn’t follow rules.”
“Then he is exactly who I need,” Armand confirmed.
Declan bit back a sigh. “I’ll reach out.”
“No need,” Armand said. “I can contact him. But reach out to Marco as well. We may need everyone.”
“Understood.”
Declan ended the call and turned to Kate.
She was watching him with cautious eyes.
“It’s starting again, isn’t it?” she said softly. Fear edged her voice.
Declan looked at her. At the life they had built. The quiet. The sea. The fragile illusion of normal.
He had always known.
“I don’t think it ever stopped.”
Keep reading for a sneak peek of the first chapter of Locked and Loaded, the first book in the action-packed, exciting new Lock and Key spin-off series.