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Davina moaned and stirred. A jackhammer drilled her head. Her mouth was dry and pasty, and her stomach curdled like she’d accidentally downed a swallow of sour milk.
Groping for the nightstand, she reached for her cup of water. Her hand closed around the glass and she took a few healthy gulps. Satiated, she returned the water to the table and knocked something to the floor. As she groped the carpet, her fingers met a cool, metal disk. She dared to open one eye and peeked between her lids over the bed’s edge.
An old-fashioned, gold pocket watch.
Leaning forward, she lifted the timepiece. Davina blinked to clear the bleariness of sleep. How beautiful. The front and back were etched with swirling designs. She slipped her thumb over the crown and pressed. The lid popped open, and Roman numerals bordered the face, etched with matching swirl designs. The delicate second hand swept in a smooth, continuous motion, tracking the passage of time with elegance and precision and read near five-fifty. Tipping the watch, she examined the inner lid, engraved with fancy script.
Together forever. Eternally yours.
Davina’s head swam and the room tilted. Snapping the watch shut, she replaced it on the nightstand and pressed the heels of her hands to her eye sockets. The previous evening buried her like a ton of rubble. I drank way too much. She blinked and scanned the bedroom. Where the hell was she?
The shrilling phone next to the bed split her cranium in two, and she heaved. The phone screeched again, bringing the last twenty-four hours into sharp focus. She rolled over and snatched the receiver from the cradle. “Hello?”
“Good morning, Miss Ferris!” Nelson screamed.
She pulled the receiver away from her ear and moaned. “Good gravy. Do you have to shout?”
“Oh, sorry,” he whispered.
But it still sounded like he was yelling. Didn’t these damn phones have a volume control? She fingered the buttons in vain.
Sitting up, she cradled her throbbing skull in her hand. “I suppose this is my wake-up call.”
“Indeed. I hope you slept well. We’ll see you downstairs for the briefing at seven o’clock?”
Davina sighed. “Of course.”
She hung up the phone. Damn. The briefing. The Army of Light, the Illuminati. Everyone who died yesterday. Poor Lulu. Another ice pick twisted inside her brain, and she groaned. Thank goodness Oliver, Jon and Nate were safe.
Throwing back the covers, she swung her legs over the side of the bed, willing the pain and memories to go away. But no matter how much she rubbed her eyes with her knuckles, the reality was this: Life was going to be completely different moving forward. As her mother had said, time to put on her big-girl panties and get used to it. She’d better go upstairs and try to figure out what she was supposed to be getting used to.
Trying to keep her sanity intact, Davina forced her mind to focus on her daily routine of showering, brushing her teeth and getting dressed. A handful of Advil would hopefully get rid of the nasty hangover. Despite her efforts the night before to make the space feel homier and more lived in, the constant unfamiliarity of the apartment was a nagging reminder of the drastic changes. And how did one dress for a briefing given by the Army of Light?
In two seconds, she didn’t care. She was going to be comfortable. Jeans, sneakers and her dark-green cotton knit shirt with a vee neckline. She threw her long, auburn hair into a ponytail and staggered into the kitchen.
Her stomach wouldn’t handle eggs and bacon, so she settled for a cup of coffee from the Keurig on the counter and some toast and jam. At least they had her favorite Cheesecake Factory Strawberry Cheesecake creamer in the fridge. A welcome addition to the staples in the kitchen, but it left a stalker, creepy, knew-too-much-about-me aftertaste that didn’t settle her stomach.
She was a jumble of conflicting emotions and none of them were good. Grieving for the lives that seemed wasted because of her. Fearful of this Illuminati, which just sounded like a bunch of conspiracy theory craziness. And yet twisted in apprehension about the forthcoming briefing.
She’d learned about the prophecy mostly from her mother, but Davina’s part in it was still vague. Why were she, Broderick and his half-brother Angus the three keys? And while she was at it, the keys to what? She got the whole vampires—or rather Vamsyrians—being creations of Satan. That was definitely an unsettling part of the story. And how the prophecy enabled them to save their eternal souls and turn back to God.
What she didn’t understand was what she had to do with it.
Like a wad of sticky cellophane, her feelings had somehow gotten balled up into a confusing mess, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t find the edge to smooth out the emotional wrinkles. She grunted and dropped her head into her hands as she sat at the dining table.
Someone battering the front door startled her out of her thoughts, and she growled. At least the headache had subsided enough to be bearable. Davina shuffled to the entrance and opened it to the bright, cheery face of her mother.
“Hey, Sunshine!”
Davina winced and shuffled back to the table and her coffee. “Please keep your perky excitement down to a dull roar. I’m still reeling from this stupid hangover.”
“Yes, Rick told me you came over last night. Are you okay?” Amie entered and made herself a cup at the counter.
That was something Davina definitely didn’t want to think about. Broderick MacDougal in nothing but a towel. Jesus, the man was built like a heavyweight bodybuilder and too tempting for words. He oozed sexuality from every pore of his rock-solid form.
Her mother sat across from her at the table. “So, other than a hangover, how do you feel?”
Davina rose from her chair and ambled toward the bedroom.
“Davina?”
She snatched the pocket watch from her nightstand. When she plopped back onto her chair, she slid the timepiece across the table to her mother. “Here. You can tell him I still don’t remember my past lives. Nice try, though.”
“Ah, I see.” Amie held the antique in her delicate fingers and smiled.
Davina smirked. “I know that’s what you really meant to ask.”
Her mother raised a brow. “Yeah, well, I was trying to be subtle.”
Davina chuckled and the two of them chatted about their apartments and which of their personal items the security detail had grabbed for them. Easy, mundane everyday conversation during this morning intermission over java.
After about a half-hour of delightfully normal interaction, Davina downed the last of her coffee and braced herself for the day ahead. “We should probably go see what the heck this is about.”
With shaky hands, she put her cup in the sink and strolled with Amie out of her apartment.
As they stepped off the elevator onto the main operations floor of the headquarters, an Army of Light member was waiting to instruct Davina and Amie to the briefing room.
The inside buzzed with new faces, some of them towering figures with silver and black hair. Davina’s eyes danced from one grim expression to another, looking for someone she knew. The air crackled with tension and the scowls were many.
Amie near squealed and tugged on Davina’s arm. “Oh my Gods, will you look at the boys? Hold on. I want to be sure you meet the Hunter boys before the briefing starts.”
She dashed across the room toward two very tall—no, monstrous—muscular men with salt-and-pepper hair, although they appeared to be in their thirties. Good grief, they had to be close to seven feet in height. They listened to Amie’s excited chatter with confusion on their handsome faces, then delight as they each embraced her mother like they were long-lost friends.
Amie motioned to Davina. As she approached, the giant with a Van Dyke beard beamed and almost lunged for her, but Amie stepped in the way and shoved her hands against his broad chest, heels digging into the carpet. “Whoa there, you hound.”
The giant cocked a silvery brow.
“Give her a moment, Chandler.” Amie patted his arm. “You’re going to scare the poor girl. Davina, this man was once your brother Chandler, when you were Celina Hunter.”
“Ox.” The second giant, who looked suspiciously similar to Chandler, jabbed the first one’s ribs. “Of course, she’s not going to remember who we are.”
“This is Jericho, his older brother,” Amie explained. “Or rather, your older brother, too.”
Chandler elbowed Jericho aside. “I don’t care. I haven’t seen our little Pup since...well.”
An awkward moment passed between them, and Davina smirked. “Since I had my head lopped off?”
“Pup.” Jericho’s jaw dropped. “That was a pretty traumatic moment for all of us.”
“I don’t remember it, so I apologize for my insensitivity.”
Chandler tossed his head back and guffawed, then pulled her into his arms and swept her off the floor in a suffocating bear hug. Or was it a wolf hug?
Although he was a complete stranger and the enthusiastic greeting caught her off guard, there was something comforting about his embrace. Almost...familiar.
She succumbed, but how could she not?
“For heaven’s sake, Chandler.” Amie playfully punched the giant’s shoulder. “Give her a moment to catch her breath. You’ll smother her to death.”
Chandler’s deep laugh traveled to her toes. “If you think I’m greeting my baby sister with a cordial handshake and a smile, you’re insane. I haven’t seen her in almost a century.”
He finally put her down, and her feet had hardly touched the floor before the other giant lifted her in a crushing embrace.
“I give up with you two.” Amie tossed her hands in surrender.
Davina spurted with chuckles and Jericho released her. The brothers both placed their massive hands on the sides of her head, amusement twinkling in their eyes. “So, you guys are Norse wolf shifters?”
Chandler chuckled. “Aw, look at her, Jerry. She’s such a cute little mortal again.”
Jericho snickered. “Okay, we’ll give you some space, Pup. I’m sure this is a lot to take in.” He bent forward and pecked her cheek. “Good to see you again, Hun. We’ll catch up after the meeting.”
The brothers ambled to the conference table and took a seat, resuming their conversation.
“Holy shit.” Davina’s head spun. Luckily, the Advil had kicked in. Otherwise, that would have been a rather painful meeting...reunion. Whatever.
“So sorry about that.” Amie patted her back. “I didn’t know they were going to be here. I would have given you a little warning last night when I filled you in.”
“They’re so big.” Even sitting down, the brothers were almost her height, and Davina was pretty tall for a woman at five-foot-eight.
Amie grinned. “Well, their kind are descended from Norse gods and giants of the Ironwood forest.”
“Wha...?” Davina was awestruck at the full understanding of their origins and how all the puzzle pieces of her past lives were falling into place.
Nelson and his compatriot strolled across the room to Davina and Amie.
“Welcome to our humble base of operations, Miss Davina.” A bald, middle-aged black man with a winning smile under his mustache bowed at the waist. “I’m honored to finally meet you.” He executed a firm handshake. “Cliff Benson. I’m the Head Administrator of the L.A. Headquarters.”
“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Benson.”
“Call me Cliff. I insist. If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to finish getting the projector ready for the presentation.” He turned and Nelson followed him to the front of the room.
Another giant joined the small crowd of attendees, this time blond and clean-shaven, with a petite brunette at his side, both of them carrying motorcycle helmets. She was clad in a pair of jeans and a black leather jacket—Harley-Davidson logo blazing on the back—her long raven hair plaited in a French braid draped over her shoulder and mussed from her headgear.
She couldn’t have been more than eighteen or nineteen, but her eyes were sharp and intelligent. This youngster carried herself like a queen.
She strolled forward, but stopped short as her gaze settled on Davina and widened.
Amie inhaled sharply, tears welling in her eyes. “Cordelia?”
Davina darted a questioning look from her mother to the dark beauty, who appeared as confused as Davina.
Amie steepled her fingers under chin. “I’m sorry. I guess Malloren...well, she probably doesn’t even know. My name is Amie in this life. But in a previous life, Malloren and I were sisters. I was once Vala. I died during childbirth, but I was your mother.”
Davina’s jaw unhinged and Cordelia’s expression mirrored Davina’s shock.
Amie reached for Cordelia’s hand. “Gods, I held your tiny figure only long enough to name you and kiss you goodbye.”
Cordelia covered her mouth and tears tumbled onto her cheeks. The two women embraced and sobbed as if reuniting after being decades apart.
Despite the tender moment, Davina palmed her forehead, trying to still the names and information and lives swirling around in her brain. Good gawd, what a roller coaster ride. “Somebody stop my life, I wanna get off.”
She plopped onto the nearest chair and gripped the edge of the conference table.
Broderick MacDougal filled the doorway and her pulse skipped. Strangely enough, his towering presence was an anchor in the midst of the chaos. However, his brooding expression gave her pause.
His eyes searched the room, and the moment they fell on her, the furrow in his brow failed. A tempting dimple creased his chiseled cheek as he smiled. He strolled to the chair beside her and sat. “Good mornin’, Blossom.”
Davina took a beat to recover from his deep, intimate and panty-melting brogue, and cleared her throat. “Did you have as bad a hangover as I did? Or do vampires not get hungover?”
“No.” He chuckled—a deep rumble that went straight between her legs. “Sadly, we don’t even get drunk.”
She gaped. “Then what’s the point?”
“Well, look at what the cat dragged in.” Chandler swaggered around the table, grinning beneath his silver beard.
Broderick winked at her before he stood and pulled the wolf shifter into a hearty hug. “Good to see you, Chan. Hey, where’s your knight in shining armor?” He glanced around, as if looking for the said hero.
Chandler folded his arms. “Tucked safely in his kingdom, away from all this mess, as it should be. I didn’t want him anywhere near this shit show.”
The Scotsman harrumphed. “I’ll bet that went over well.”
Chandler rolled his eyes and nodded.
Broderick embraced Jericho. “How are you, Jerry?”
The wolf nodded. “Better, now that you’re out of hiding and this is finally coming to a head.”
Broderick smirked. “Yeah, well...we’ll see how ye feel about gettin’ this show on the road once this briefin’ gets underway. The Illuminati are already causin’ problems.” His dark mood returned, and his eyes narrowed as they shifted to Cordelia and Amie, chatting away. “What’s their story?”
“Seems my mother was Cordelia’s mother, and Malloren Rune’s sister in another life,” Davina supplied.
That dark mood descended closer to black fury and—holy shit. Davina shrank deeper into her chair.
“Amie and Mal? That means...” Broderick grumbled and pinched his nose as if to bring his temper under control. “That goddamn woman and her fuckin’ secrets.” He inhaled deep and leveled a piercing gaze at the brunette. “I’ll deal with them later.”
“Who?” Davina glanced up at him. “My mother?”
He shook his head. “No, Malloren Rune and Cordelia. It’s a long story.”
Cordelia’s tall blond companion ambled over to Broderick. “Damn, it’s good to see you, mate.”
The corner of Broderick’s mouth puckered in a half-smile, softening the ire hardening his face, and he embraced the towering man. Broderick rested a warm hand on Davina’s nape and delightful shivers cascaded down her legs. “Davina, this is Peter Lund. One of the sun wolf shifters, the head of my London office and a dear friend.”
“Pleased to meet you, Peter.” Davina offered her hand, which Peter accepted and used to pull her out of her chair and into another of those overwhelming hugs the wolves seemed to favor.
Holy bananas!
“Hey there, Pup.” He set her down and chucked her chin. “A little short in this life, but we’ll manage.”
“Oh, good.” Cliff raised his hands as if praising the angels. “We’re all here. Shall we get started?”
Amie spun on her heel. “Malloren isn’t coming?”
Cliff picked up the small remote on the table beside the projector. “She contacted us this morning with word she’ll be here later this afternoon. However, in light of recent developments, she might suffer some delays.” He nodded to Nelson, who dimmed the lights. “I’ll bring Malloren up to speed once she arrives.”
Cliff flipped on the projector. Davina sat between Broderick and a rather disappointed Amie. Anthony, Cordelia and Peter found seats at the conference table, and Chandler and Jericho returned to their chairs opposite Davina and Amie.
All chairs shifted to face the white screen hanging at the front of the room, behind Cliff at the head of the table.
“As soon as we learned everyone was mobile and heading in our direction, we dispatched our entire Prophecy Archive to this location.” Cliff waved the tiny remote around. “In fact, we’re still moving things in, which explains the hustle and bustle in the facility. Sorry about the mess.”
Several in attendance fluttered laughs of appreciation.
“The Army of Light has been monitoring Jesse, his henchmen, the Illuminati and their activities through the centuries. Though we’ve tried to keep tabs on you immortals, you tend to be a bit...elusive. You have certainly kept us on our toes.”
Was that a hint of reproach in his grin? Davina raised her brows at Cliff’s sarcasm. Based on what she’d seen so far, keeping track of this bunch was probably a full-time job.
“I couldn’t help but overhear some of you talking about the terrorist activity regarding Miss Davina’s gallery, so we’ll start with that. As most of you know, the assault is being reported as a terrorist attack and ISIS are taking the credit.” Cliff clicked the remote and the screen displayed the ruins of what had been the one place she’d always loved.
Davina covered her mouth, stifling the grief that slammed into her chest like a wrecking ball. This was the first time she’d seen the disaster from the outside.
Broderick cursed behind her. “Can we please flip to a different slide? I’m sure neither Davina nor Amie wish to see everything they worked so hard for reduced to a pile of rubble.”
Davina dug her fingers into her thighs.
Benson had the decency to look ashamed. “My apologies.” He advanced quickly through the devastating slides.
Even though the images flashed quickly, they still hit her like a slap across the face. Davina grimaced. They represented the world she knew and, unfortunately, might never see again.
Cliff stopped at a logo with the all-seeing eye inside a triangle, similar to the one found atop a pyramid on the back of an American one-dollar bill.
That must be the Illuminati.
“As you know, it wasn’t a group of Muslim terrorists, but the Illuminati who were the culprits. Since you’re new to all this, Miss Davina, what you might not know is that ISIS is the Illuminati.”
Davina wasn’t the only member who sharply inhaled at the news.
Cliff’s eyebrows rose toward his shining scalp. “Ah, I guess many of you were unaware of this unfortunate fact.” He nodded somberly. “Yes, the Illuminati created ISIS as the new world terror to generate fear. It serves many purposes. A vehicle to cover their nefarious activities. A force the citizens of the world can rally against and rely on their governments for protection. And a scapegoat for whenever they eliminate anyone who gets in their way, as is the case with you ladies who are being implicated in these activities. And now Rick has been added to the list of accomplices. Seems they took advantage of the accounts relayed by surviving eyewitnesses who saw Miss Ferris slap Broderick across the face at her gallery showing.”
“Excuse me?” Davina sat forward, gripping the edge of the table once more. “We were victims of the attack. How are we being implicated?”
“They’re claiming the attack was in retaliation for a deal gone bad, saying you were funding their operations and MacDougal & Son Shipping Company was handling the transfers.” Cliff held up his hands when Davina huffed. “I know, it sounds absurd, but this is their way of trying to corner you. I’m afraid the three of you have had your assets, homes and bank accounts seized in an effort to pin you down.”
“What?” Davina shot from her chair. Who the hell do these people think they are?
She was vaguely aware of her mother’s gentle nudging. “It’s okay, Dee.”
“How is this okay?” Tears stung the backs of her eyes. “Didn’t Broderick tell me yesterday that the Illuminati are also members of our government? Does this mean they’re actually condoning the murder of innocent people?”
Cliff nodded. “I’m afraid so. And this is why we’re here today. To bring everyone up to speed on the horrible deeds this organization has done to achieve their goals—getting to you and Rick. With your help, I hope we can finally put a stop to them.”
Davina reluctantly sat at Amie’s encouragement and bit her lip to hold her tongue. She wasn’t going to take any of this lying down and especially not without a fight. She wasn’t sure what she could do, but these bastards were going to pay.
The warm and reassuring weight of Broderick’s hand upon her arm eased some of her tension, and peace spread through her chest into her heart. Davina marveled at what he did to her and she briefly squeezed his hand in appreciation.
“I’m so sorry.” The Head Administrator nodded. “No doubt, your accounts and credit cards are being monitored in hopes of tracking your location. They only know you are in Los Angeles. But the Army of Light has your expenses handled and you will want for nothing.”
Davina didn’t bother to correct him. Bringing those people back was what she wanted. A normal life was what she wanted. Dwelling on or railing about it wasn’t going to make it happen, though, so she continued to hold her tongue.
Cliff advanced the slide to show National Guard troops at the airport. “Transportation in and out of the city has been indefinitely halted.” He flipped to the next images of military check points congesting the freeways. “And they’re searching vehicles coming and going from the city. Los Angeles is practically at a stand-still from a logistical standpoint. Many businesses are closing for the day and it’s going to hit the city hard.”
Broderick grumbled. “They’re hopin’ we’ll give in if they put a squeeze on the citizens.”
“That’s correct, but we can’t let them win. They’re desperate and they’re pulling out all the stops. That’s a good sign.”
“How is that a good sign?” Davina tightly laced her fingers in her lap.
“Thanks to Nelson, your disappearing act has them baffled and they’re using every one of their resources to find you.” Cliff’s reasoning grated against Davina’s wounds. “It means they’re scared.”
“So, innocent people are going to continue to suffer until we come forward?” She hugged her midsection. “I’m not sure I’m prepared to sit back while that happens.”
“Unfortunately, that’s exactly what we need to do, Miss Ferris.” A father-like sympathy softened Cliff’s eyes. “I know this puts us in an uncomfortable position, but this has happened many times before. Even though you may not have known that the Illuminati are behind ISIS, I’m sure you can recall other times the Illuminati have struck. They funded the Vietnam War on both sides. Financed Noriega until he outlived his usefulness, then took him out through the U.S. invasion of Panama. They orchestrated the nine-eleven attacks and more. But no matter what, we can’t let them win. The Army of Light have been waiting a very long time for your arrival. Too much is at stake.”
Davina fought for control. “So, now you’re telling me these bastards are not only responsible for killing thousands of people in a—what...fake attack on our country—but they’re also responsible for killing my grandparents? They died in the Twin Towers.”
“Cliff, can ye give us a few moments?” Broderick’s commanding yet compassionate voice took over the briefing.
“Of course.” Cliff swallowed and tapped the button to turn off the projector. “Nelson, let’s move everyone to the main lobby.” The Head Administrator started for the door, but paused at Davina’s side. “Miss Ferris, we didn’t know about your grandparents. You have our deepest sympathies and regrets.”
Davina couldn’t speak, but nodded. Amie pulled her into her arms and they sobbed. It was as if Davina had lost her grandparents all over again. They’d spent days hanging onto threads of hope that Nonnie and Pakkah had somehow survived. Or were lost in a hospital of unconscious wounded victims with no names. When their anguish had stretched into weeks, they’d given up hope and eventually learned her grandparents’ remains were discovered in the rubble, clinging to each other in death.
Davina had been too young to understand what terrorism was or why anyone would do such terrible things in the name of religion. And now she had to reprocess the entire experience with hindsight.
The Illuminati were responsible. The conspiracy theories were right. Broderick had said these people killed anyone who was considered an abomination of God. And yet they were the true monsters. None of the people she’d met today—almost all of them supernatural in some way or another—were vicious or abominations. They smiled and loved people and had friends. The real monsters were the people sitting in the White House or heads of states and governments.
“Call everyone back in here.” Davina wiped the tears from her cheeks.
“Blossom, I don’t think—”
She slammed her fist on the table. “Get them back in here! I want to know how to stop these bastards. I don’t know what part I play in this, but I’m ready to end it.”
Sadness darkened Broderick’s green eyes. “Aye, Blossom.” He cast a regretful gaze at her mother and sauntered to the doorway.
As the room filled with silent attendees, Amie gave Davina one last hug and sat beside her, holding Davina’s hand.
A sober Cliff powered on the projector and advanced his presentation to a black-and-white picture of a snow-covered archaeological dig site. “To learn how to stop these bastards, as Miss Ferris so rightfully stated, we have to learn what we’re up against. But the Illuminati are not the only threat.
“As I mentioned earlier, we’ve been trying to keep tabs on the immortals who are key players in the fulfillment of the prophecy...or anyone who may be interfering. The Vamsyrian Prince has always been a bit of a puzzle. through the centuries, he’s demonstrated that he has intentions to take the throne from his father, so why he wants the prophecy fulfilled is unknown. Even more curious was his recent involvement in this archaeological site. These are photographs taken during the winter of 1888 in Iceland.”
“1888?” Rick sat forward. “Shortly after Davina and I met in her life as Christabelle.”
“Precisely. We learned the Prince ordered an excavation of two meteor landing sites.” Benson clicked to a map with drawn circles and arrows that seemed to indicate the landing path of the meteors. “They were approximately twenty-seven miles apart. Upon closer examination, we learned the area was being guarded by werewolves, and eyewitness accounts from our agents reported two earth witches extracting some kind of ore. Some of you may or may not know that the Prince and his henchmen were breeding Elementals in captivity during this time, so we know these witches were slaves.” He used the red laser pointer built into the remote to indicate the locations. “Silver ore at the northern site and gold ore at the southwestern site.”
The slide changed to a distinguished-looking man with a bushy mustache—typical of the Victorian era—with small round glasses and clutching his lapels as he posed for the portrait.
“Further investigation uncovered that the sites were originally discovered by Dr. Claude Egger. Records show they were purchased for an absurd amount of money for the time period, and he supposedly retired in the Italian Riviera with his newfound wealth. The investor who purchased the site was connected to a law firm used as a cover for the Prince’s investments at the time.”
The next slide was an attractive woman in elegant Victorian attire.
“Dr. Rebecca Scout was employed by the Prince and reportedly the last person seen with Dr. Eggers in the Riviera. Since Dr. Eggers’s fortune was mysteriously squandered, we can only assume the lovely Dr. Scout was responsible for his death and disappearance. It was later discovered Dr. Scout was a Vamsyrian. She had an unlucky encounter with the Illuminati during the first World War.”
Cliff inclined his head to Nelson, who turned up the lights.
The Head Administrator strolled to the credenza at the side of the room and grabbed a small, aluminum briefcase. “We were able to secure two small samples of the metals the Prince was so interested in obtaining, and we learned they were neither gold nor silver...nor any metal known to this planet.”
He opened the case and showed Davina, but she was too emotionally strung out and didn’t care to examine the metals. She deferred to Broderick.
He dug the silver clump from the padding and studied it. “Where’s the Prince now?”
“Our last report said he was heading to Los Angeles, but he cleverly gave our surveillance team the slip and his current whereabouts are unknown.”
“Brilliant.” Rick shoved the metal back into the foam.
The Head Administrator closed the aluminum case. “Angus, however, was reported to have arrived in Long Beach at the Port of Los Angeles in an authentic Spanish Galleon named Knightly’s Refuge VI.”
Cliff clicked to the next slide. Peter, Jericho and Chandler cheered and Broderick gawked at the picture of the magnificent merchant ship moored at the docks. The masts rose high into the bright-blue sky and a twinge of familiarity touched Davina’s memories.
“Oy, mate.” Jericho flipped his thumbs up. “The bastard did a fine job taking care of her.”
“I’ll be, she’s a sight for sore eyes.” Chandler leaned back, looking pleased.
Broderick scowled. “Well, it’s a safe bet Angus knows we’re in town.”
Davina tensed. Angus was one they weren’t supposed to trust.
“So it would seem.” Cliff returned the aluminum case to the credenza. “However, to our knowledge, he isn’t aware of your current location. You should be safe here.”
“Excuse the interruption.”
Davina swiveled in her chair to face Nelson, along with everyone else in the room. He nodded to a young man beside him, who retreated down the hall out of sight.
“What is it?” Cliff powered off the projector.
The Assistant Administrator leveled his eyes at Broderick. “Lord MacDougal, a large crate has arrived, addressed to you. It’s from the Port of Los Angeles...from Angus Campbell.”
Broderick cocked a critical eyebrow at Cliff. “You were saying, ol’ chap?”
“That you immortals are always keeping us on our toes.” Cliff mirrored a critical eyebrow and planted his hands on his hips.