CHAPTER 1
Nick Boyle panted as he finished off the last mile of his run. He wasn't a Navy SEAL anymore, but that didn't mean he had to slack off. He enjoyed keeping in top form, following his ritualistic mornings of running and Tai Chi. To de-stress and relax he had a punching bag in his room he often took advantage of, and every now and then he returned to the water and did laps in the indoor pool. The team depended on him to help protect them, and to handle any security need that might arise. He couldn't do that if he let himself get soft.
Coming around to the road that led to the castle-like house dubbed the Luna Foundation headquarters to the public he glanced back when he heard a vehicle coming up behind him. It was a cab, and he frowned as he quickened his pace in the hopes of seeing who had arrived, and why. The saying might say that curiosity had killed the cat, but he wasn't a feline so what did he have to worry about?
A woman climbed out of the cab, and stared up at the house. She looked lost, and he neared her. "Hi. Can I, umm, help you?" he inquired. He was startled to see her eyes were amethyst colored, framed by the longest and darkest lashes he'd ever seen. They reminded him of wild violets.
"I'm looking for Nick Boyle," she stated. "Could you direct me to him, please?" She had a soft Irish brogue.
Startled and even more curious he reached for the towel he'd left by the door just for when he was done his run. "You're looking at him." One blue- black brow shot up in surprise at his declaration so he nodded. "I'm Nick Boyle. Why don't you come on inside, and you can tell me what this is all about?"
Nodding she moved ahead of him when he motioned her to. He led the way to the kitchen, and held up the pot of coffee in a silent question. "Please." She tried to smile, but it was beyond her. She was tired, or rather more like exhausted in body and soul. The past week had been hectic and a drain emotionally. Reaching into a briefcase sized bag she pulled out the file and removed the letter from it. Placing it on the counter she saw him glance at it as he put a cup of coffee, some milk, and some sugar before her. "This is why I'm here."
Nick saw the letter, and he leaned back against the other counter as he read it. A scowl knit his brows together, and he peered up at her. "I don't get it. How did you get this?"
"Shaun O'Shea was my father. I found this under the desk the day I found him dead. He still held the pen he'd been writing it with."
Nick watched her eyes fill with tears that she refused to shed in front of him. Her jaw tightened, and she gripped in one hand the single braid she had her long ebony hair twisted in. "So you're the daughter he wrote he wanted me to protect?" Shaking his head he put the letter on the counter. "Look, I don't know who your father was."
"My father and your father had been friends when we were small children. They had worked together on a few cases, along with my mother. My father used to say that it had been the 'luck-o'-the-Irish' that had made mother marry him and not your father long ago." She leaned forward some. "He never told me what had him so afraid he would seek all the way to San Francisco and not to the Dublin House for help. Why would he write you, and not tell me what was going on?"
"I don't know," Nick helplessly replied. "I never got any kind of communiqué from your father, or from the Dublin House at all. My father and I didn't have the closest of familial relationships so I'm not exactly surprised he failed to mention your father." Sighing he ran a hand over his face. "Okay, look. Give me some time to shower and ingest some caffeine so I can function somewhat like a normal human being, and then we can start looking into this."
He suddenly realized that she had to know about the Legacy. "You said the Dublin House?" He didn't want to give too much away in case she wasn't a member.
"My father refused to let me become a member of Legacy, but I knew about it. I helped him a few times, though in an 'unofficial' capacity." She glanced away, and sighed heavily. "Something had him worried, and I'm not sure what it was, but I know he didn't trust the Dublin House or he'd have turned to them."
Made sense, and had him worried now too. "Okay, first we'll go see Derek, the precept of this house, and then we'll get to work. I gather by the luggage you have with you that you didn't find a place to stay yet."
"No, I didn't. I wanted to find you first," she admitted.
Nodding he set his coffee aside. "Alright. Let's go find Derek."
.
Derek Rayne looked up from the letter, a startled look on his face. "I hadn't heard of Shaun's death."
"I haven't informed the Dublin House. As you can see by that letter I had reason not to trust them," she replied. They were in Derek's office, she in one of the comfortable chairs before it, Derek sitting behind it, and Nick lounging almost negligently against a side table's edge to her right.
"Yes, that worries me." Derek scowled, re-reading the line that says Shaun O'Shea couldn't trust to turn to the Dublin House to help and protect his daughter. Which was why he was writing to the son of the man he'd once called friend. Raising his gaze to said younger man Derek scowled a little more darkly. "Nick?"
Nick shrugged, pushing from the table. "No idea. My father never mentioned Shaun O'Shea. Not that we had any kind of a relationship where we confided in each other."
Derek nodded. "Of course." His gaze swung to the lovely young woman sitting across from him. "I can contact the London House, discreetly find out what they know or suspect. I'm surprised your father mentioned the Legacy to you if he refused to let you become a member."
"My mother died doing her duty for the Legacy. It was easier to tell me the truth than to make up a story and try to remember the lies, Mr. Rayne. I was fifteen, and intelligent enough to know nothing less would satisfy my curiosity. Besides, I'd seen her death in the cards, and when I went to my father it only reinforced a fear he'd had for days when she failed to report in."
That got both men's attention. "In the cards?" Nick asked, one brow rising quizzically.
"My mother came from a Celtic and Gypsy background. There were a few things she taught me as I grew up. Reading runes and the Tarot is part of that. Her talents as a witch had helped my father several times in his years with the Legacy."
"Didn't think the Legacy would let a 'witch' into their midst," Nick grinned. It made his hazel eyes crinkle.
"They don't," Derek replied. "It's believed that anyone who uses any skills or talents related to a pagan religion are too vulnerable to the dark side. If I remember correctly," he went on, rising from behind his desk, "your father left the Legacy when your mother passed away."
"My mother didn't pass away, Mr. Rayne. She was killed by a Legacy member," she stated. Rising also to avoid the awkwardness of being the only seated person in the room she lifted her chin proudly, her eyes growing stormy. The memories of her mother's death were still raw, even after thirteen years. "A member learned of my mother's heritage and talents. They deemed her a danger, and demanded my father leave us. When he refused this same member sent someone to bring my mother in, and when she refused to leave us was believed to be in league with the dark side and was killed."
Nick stared at her; amazed the Legacy would so casually kill a woman who refused to be parted from her family. Derek frowned, refusing to look away from her. He had never been a man to back down or show weakness if he could help it. There have been moments where a retreat was called for until he could gather his forces and attack anew, but those were tactics and not weakness. He remembered now hearing about Moira O'Shea's death at the hands of an overzealous member who had believed she was a witch in league with evil.
A few moments later Nick was escorting her upstairs. Opening a door he stepped out of the way and let her enter first. "It's not much, but it's better than a hotel. Besides, if you're father was worried about your safety you'd be better off staying where I can keep an eye on you."
"It's more than enough, thank you." She watched him put her bags on the double bed that graced one wall.
He paused, peered at her over his shoulder. Amusement lit his eyes. "Your father never put your name in that letter, and we weren't exactly properly introduced."
"In other words," she smiled, "what's my name?" She thrust her hand out to be shaken. "Aine Kellan Maeve O'Shea." Both of his brows shot up in amusement, and she shrugged. "My mother strongly believed that the name you gave a child, the meaning of said name that is, influenced their character. Aine was the name of a fairy queen, and it means brightness or radiance. Kellan means warrior princess, and Maeve means intoxicating one. My mother believed I was beautiful."
He agreed with her mother. Aine had hair so dark it shone blue-black, eyes the color of bruised wild violets, skin the color of pink rose petals in cream, and lips a natural dark pink that reminded him of summer berries. Shaking himself mentally he made his way to the door, and paused again. "Hmmm. I wonder what my name means?"
She headed for her bags, but was speaking to him. "If it's Nicholas it means the victory of the people. If your name is just Nick then it means belonging to the Lord. If you ask me either suits you."
Nick was startled to actually feel the heat of a flush rise in his face. He had honestly believed himself too jaded to ever commit the normal affliction of blushing. But there was something about Aine Kellan Maeve O'Shea that put him off his guard, and he wasn't sure he liked that fact. Nodding he left, shutting the door behind him. Time to go shower, and he decided he'd make it a little on the cool side.
.
The familiar face on the screen was now tight with tension and suspicion. William Sloan's long face was pinched as he leaned forward and filled the vid-screen. "Derek, word just reached us of Shaun's murder. His daughter is missing, and we are now searching for her."
Startled Derek blinked, but kept his calm otherwise. "A search for her? Why? You don't suspect her of killing her own father, do you?"
"We're not ruling anything out, Derek. After all, her mother was a reputed witch who turned to the dark side," Sloan replied.
"That was conjecture, wasn't it? A literal witch-hunt where there was no proof of her being evil. Nothing says the daughter is either is there?" Derek was beginning to worry now. Had Shaun O'Shea's daughter lied to them? It wasn't uncommon for someone to try to destroy the Legacy from within.
"The locals say she followed in her mother's footsteps in her choice of religious beliefs and practices. You know how people are. There are always those ready to defend, and those ready to condemn." Sloan paused, his eyes narrowing speculatively. "Is Aine O'Shea in San Francisco, Derek?"
A prickling of warning made Derek smile and shake his head. "Not that I know of." It was true. He didn't know the name of Shaun's daughter so he couldn't say if it was she or not. Not exactly a full lie, but more of a twisting of words.
"If she contacts you let me know," Sloan ordered.
Derek's brows lifted into the unruly fall of his hair over his forehead. "You believe she'd have reason to contact us?"
"Nothing would surprise me anymore about anything," Sloan admitted. "If there's one thing you should know by now, Derek, it's that anything is possible. You'll keep me informed?"
"Of course," Derek agreed. After terminating the connection he sat back and turned deeply inwards with his thoughts. Something was warning him not to confide in Sloan. Which was surprising since they'd known each other for decades. Perhaps it was time he had a more in-depth discussion with their lovely guest.
Nick Boyle panted as he finished off the last mile of his run. He wasn't a Navy SEAL anymore, but that didn't mean he had to slack off. He enjoyed keeping in top form, following his ritualistic mornings of running and Tai Chi. To de-stress and relax he had a punching bag in his room he often took advantage of, and every now and then he returned to the water and did laps in the indoor pool. The team depended on him to help protect them, and to handle any security need that might arise. He couldn't do that if he let himself get soft.
Coming around to the road that led to the castle-like house dubbed the Luna Foundation headquarters to the public he glanced back when he heard a vehicle coming up behind him. It was a cab, and he frowned as he quickened his pace in the hopes of seeing who had arrived, and why. The saying might say that curiosity had killed the cat, but he wasn't a feline so what did he have to worry about?
A woman climbed out of the cab, and stared up at the house. She looked lost, and he neared her. "Hi. Can I, umm, help you?" he inquired. He was startled to see her eyes were amethyst colored, framed by the longest and darkest lashes he'd ever seen. They reminded him of wild violets.
"I'm looking for Nick Boyle," she stated. "Could you direct me to him, please?" She had a soft Irish brogue.
Startled and even more curious he reached for the towel he'd left by the door just for when he was done his run. "You're looking at him." One blue- black brow shot up in surprise at his declaration so he nodded. "I'm Nick Boyle. Why don't you come on inside, and you can tell me what this is all about?"
Nodding she moved ahead of him when he motioned her to. He led the way to the kitchen, and held up the pot of coffee in a silent question. "Please." She tried to smile, but it was beyond her. She was tired, or rather more like exhausted in body and soul. The past week had been hectic and a drain emotionally. Reaching into a briefcase sized bag she pulled out the file and removed the letter from it. Placing it on the counter she saw him glance at it as he put a cup of coffee, some milk, and some sugar before her. "This is why I'm here."
Nick saw the letter, and he leaned back against the other counter as he read it. A scowl knit his brows together, and he peered up at her. "I don't get it. How did you get this?"
"Shaun O'Shea was my father. I found this under the desk the day I found him dead. He still held the pen he'd been writing it with."
Nick watched her eyes fill with tears that she refused to shed in front of him. Her jaw tightened, and she gripped in one hand the single braid she had her long ebony hair twisted in. "So you're the daughter he wrote he wanted me to protect?" Shaking his head he put the letter on the counter. "Look, I don't know who your father was."
"My father and your father had been friends when we were small children. They had worked together on a few cases, along with my mother. My father used to say that it had been the 'luck-o'-the-Irish' that had made mother marry him and not your father long ago." She leaned forward some. "He never told me what had him so afraid he would seek all the way to San Francisco and not to the Dublin House for help. Why would he write you, and not tell me what was going on?"
"I don't know," Nick helplessly replied. "I never got any kind of communiqué from your father, or from the Dublin House at all. My father and I didn't have the closest of familial relationships so I'm not exactly surprised he failed to mention your father." Sighing he ran a hand over his face. "Okay, look. Give me some time to shower and ingest some caffeine so I can function somewhat like a normal human being, and then we can start looking into this."
He suddenly realized that she had to know about the Legacy. "You said the Dublin House?" He didn't want to give too much away in case she wasn't a member.
"My father refused to let me become a member of Legacy, but I knew about it. I helped him a few times, though in an 'unofficial' capacity." She glanced away, and sighed heavily. "Something had him worried, and I'm not sure what it was, but I know he didn't trust the Dublin House or he'd have turned to them."
Made sense, and had him worried now too. "Okay, first we'll go see Derek, the precept of this house, and then we'll get to work. I gather by the luggage you have with you that you didn't find a place to stay yet."
"No, I didn't. I wanted to find you first," she admitted.
Nodding he set his coffee aside. "Alright. Let's go find Derek."
.
Derek Rayne looked up from the letter, a startled look on his face. "I hadn't heard of Shaun's death."
"I haven't informed the Dublin House. As you can see by that letter I had reason not to trust them," she replied. They were in Derek's office, she in one of the comfortable chairs before it, Derek sitting behind it, and Nick lounging almost negligently against a side table's edge to her right.
"Yes, that worries me." Derek scowled, re-reading the line that says Shaun O'Shea couldn't trust to turn to the Dublin House to help and protect his daughter. Which was why he was writing to the son of the man he'd once called friend. Raising his gaze to said younger man Derek scowled a little more darkly. "Nick?"
Nick shrugged, pushing from the table. "No idea. My father never mentioned Shaun O'Shea. Not that we had any kind of a relationship where we confided in each other."
Derek nodded. "Of course." His gaze swung to the lovely young woman sitting across from him. "I can contact the London House, discreetly find out what they know or suspect. I'm surprised your father mentioned the Legacy to you if he refused to let you become a member."
"My mother died doing her duty for the Legacy. It was easier to tell me the truth than to make up a story and try to remember the lies, Mr. Rayne. I was fifteen, and intelligent enough to know nothing less would satisfy my curiosity. Besides, I'd seen her death in the cards, and when I went to my father it only reinforced a fear he'd had for days when she failed to report in."
That got both men's attention. "In the cards?" Nick asked, one brow rising quizzically.
"My mother came from a Celtic and Gypsy background. There were a few things she taught me as I grew up. Reading runes and the Tarot is part of that. Her talents as a witch had helped my father several times in his years with the Legacy."
"Didn't think the Legacy would let a 'witch' into their midst," Nick grinned. It made his hazel eyes crinkle.
"They don't," Derek replied. "It's believed that anyone who uses any skills or talents related to a pagan religion are too vulnerable to the dark side. If I remember correctly," he went on, rising from behind his desk, "your father left the Legacy when your mother passed away."
"My mother didn't pass away, Mr. Rayne. She was killed by a Legacy member," she stated. Rising also to avoid the awkwardness of being the only seated person in the room she lifted her chin proudly, her eyes growing stormy. The memories of her mother's death were still raw, even after thirteen years. "A member learned of my mother's heritage and talents. They deemed her a danger, and demanded my father leave us. When he refused this same member sent someone to bring my mother in, and when she refused to leave us was believed to be in league with the dark side and was killed."
Nick stared at her; amazed the Legacy would so casually kill a woman who refused to be parted from her family. Derek frowned, refusing to look away from her. He had never been a man to back down or show weakness if he could help it. There have been moments where a retreat was called for until he could gather his forces and attack anew, but those were tactics and not weakness. He remembered now hearing about Moira O'Shea's death at the hands of an overzealous member who had believed she was a witch in league with evil.
A few moments later Nick was escorting her upstairs. Opening a door he stepped out of the way and let her enter first. "It's not much, but it's better than a hotel. Besides, if you're father was worried about your safety you'd be better off staying where I can keep an eye on you."
"It's more than enough, thank you." She watched him put her bags on the double bed that graced one wall.
He paused, peered at her over his shoulder. Amusement lit his eyes. "Your father never put your name in that letter, and we weren't exactly properly introduced."
"In other words," she smiled, "what's my name?" She thrust her hand out to be shaken. "Aine Kellan Maeve O'Shea." Both of his brows shot up in amusement, and she shrugged. "My mother strongly believed that the name you gave a child, the meaning of said name that is, influenced their character. Aine was the name of a fairy queen, and it means brightness or radiance. Kellan means warrior princess, and Maeve means intoxicating one. My mother believed I was beautiful."
He agreed with her mother. Aine had hair so dark it shone blue-black, eyes the color of bruised wild violets, skin the color of pink rose petals in cream, and lips a natural dark pink that reminded him of summer berries. Shaking himself mentally he made his way to the door, and paused again. "Hmmm. I wonder what my name means?"
She headed for her bags, but was speaking to him. "If it's Nicholas it means the victory of the people. If your name is just Nick then it means belonging to the Lord. If you ask me either suits you."
Nick was startled to actually feel the heat of a flush rise in his face. He had honestly believed himself too jaded to ever commit the normal affliction of blushing. But there was something about Aine Kellan Maeve O'Shea that put him off his guard, and he wasn't sure he liked that fact. Nodding he left, shutting the door behind him. Time to go shower, and he decided he'd make it a little on the cool side.
.
The familiar face on the screen was now tight with tension and suspicion. William Sloan's long face was pinched as he leaned forward and filled the vid-screen. "Derek, word just reached us of Shaun's murder. His daughter is missing, and we are now searching for her."
Startled Derek blinked, but kept his calm otherwise. "A search for her? Why? You don't suspect her of killing her own father, do you?"
"We're not ruling anything out, Derek. After all, her mother was a reputed witch who turned to the dark side," Sloan replied.
"That was conjecture, wasn't it? A literal witch-hunt where there was no proof of her being evil. Nothing says the daughter is either is there?" Derek was beginning to worry now. Had Shaun O'Shea's daughter lied to them? It wasn't uncommon for someone to try to destroy the Legacy from within.
"The locals say she followed in her mother's footsteps in her choice of religious beliefs and practices. You know how people are. There are always those ready to defend, and those ready to condemn." Sloan paused, his eyes narrowing speculatively. "Is Aine O'Shea in San Francisco, Derek?"
A prickling of warning made Derek smile and shake his head. "Not that I know of." It was true. He didn't know the name of Shaun's daughter so he couldn't say if it was she or not. Not exactly a full lie, but more of a twisting of words.
"If she contacts you let me know," Sloan ordered.
Derek's brows lifted into the unruly fall of his hair over his forehead. "You believe she'd have reason to contact us?"
"Nothing would surprise me anymore about anything," Sloan admitted. "If there's one thing you should know by now, Derek, it's that anything is possible. You'll keep me informed?"
"Of course," Derek agreed. After terminating the connection he sat back and turned deeply inwards with his thoughts. Something was warning him not to confide in Sloan. Which was surprising since they'd known each other for decades. Perhaps it was time he had a more in-depth discussion with their lovely guest.