Harmony frowned and shook her head. “Who told you we gave up our jobs? I still work as an investment broker at John’s firm.”
Char nodded. “I’ll have to leave the maritime museum eventually, when people start to notice I’m not aging. But I’ll build a new identity and work somewhere else. I’ll still be a historian.”
Aura filed the information away. It didn’t really matter.
Even if Greyson forgave her for spying on them, he wouldn’t leave his crew in Savannah, and she was based in Washington, D.C., with Department 13. It wasn’t like they could move in together or date. Besides, he was immortal and would stay sexy as hell forever. She’d eventually be mistaken for his grandmother.
No future.
But the women in front of her were in love with immortal pirates, had joined the crew, and hadn’t given up their identities. In spite of her doubts, it gave her hope.
And hope could be a dangerous thing.
Chapter Twelve
Greyson stormed down the deck, running the final few steps before leaping up to catch the ratlines.
He was already ten feet up the lines when Colton called from the helm, “We’re still two hours out from the harbor.”
“I know,” he shouted back as he raced up toward the crow’s nest. “I’ll be down soon.”
He needed a quiet spot to be alone before he ripped someone’s head off. Fuck.
He’d been so distracted by his desire for Aura, he’d missed that it had all been an act. He’d been conned. He shouldn’t care. But he fucking did. Sex hadn’t gotten her out of his system—it had done the opposite. He couldn’t stop thinking about her. She haunted his dreams.
And none of it was real for her. She’d never trusted him and never would. She just needed him to play his part so she could get the damned sword.
He didn’t bother straddling the beam on the mast first, leaping from the lines to the railing of the crow’s nest. Risky, but hell, at least a fall would distract him from Aura’s betrayal.
His arms trembled with effort as he pulled his entire body weight up into the basket at the top of the mainsail.
Her words kept repeating through his mind. I’m just doing my job.
Was fucking him senseless part of the job, too? She’d just wanted to be sure he played the doting husband when they got ashore. He rubbed his chest. The ache in his heart only made him feel even more foolish.
And the damned pain in his heart made it clear he still cared about her, in spite of his attempt to get her out of his system. Fuck.
He took the gold doubloon out of his pocket, rolling it between his fingers instinctively, waiting for the tempest in his head to subside. Even dancing his lucky gold piece across his fingers couldn’t soothe the fire burning in his soul.
Colton shouted orders below, but Greyson barely noticed. He needed to get a grip. His crew was counting on him to retrieve the Tyrfing with Aura so they could collect their reward. Living forever took money, and this mission would put plenty into every crew member’s pocket.
He ground his teeth, forcing his emotions into a box. He could deal with them later.
Time to harden his heart and finish this mission.
His phone buzzed in his pocket. He took it out and stared at the text from Aura.
I need to talk to you.
He shook his head and started to stuff his phone back into his pocket when it buzzed again.
Please. It’s about the mission. I’ll meet you at the cannon line.
He cursed under his breath as he put his phone away. So much for getting his head together. He climbed down the lines, enjoying the burn in his hands from the ropes. It took his mind off the dull ache in his damned heart.
By the time he reached the cannons, he’d lowered his anger from boiling down to a low simmer.
Aura stood alone, staring through the cannon hatch at the shore in the distance. He fought the instinct to go to her and crossed his arms over his chest instead. “Here I am. Talk.”
She turned his way, her fingers tracing a circle on the top of the cannon. “First I need to tell you I’m sorry about earlier. The webcams were my job. Being with you was…not.”
He let out an exasperated chuckle. “You called me all the way down here to give me that half-assed apology?”
“No.” She finally met his eyes. “Char found something about the Tyrfing.”
There was a spark of fear in her eyes that grabbed him by the throat. “What is it?”
She tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “Remember when I told you about my partner?”
“The demon?”
She nodded. “He also told me something else. He called me the ‘chosen one.’”
He dropped his hands to his sides. What the hell was she talking about? “Should I know what that means?”
“No.” She shook her head slowly. “I’ve never known what it meant.” She met his eyes. “That’s why I tried to convince Agent Bale to send someone else undercover with the witches in Savannah.” She swallowed, a crease forming in her brow. “I wasn’t sure if I attracted the demon, or why he thought I was the chosen one, but I figured nothing good could come from me messing with magic.” Her gaze wandered over his face. “Char discovered a mention in a captain’s log about the Tyrfing’s curse.”
“It thirsts for blood, right?”
“Yes.” She nodded slowly. “We knew that part, but the line Char notated said that the sword yearns for the blood of the ‘chosen one.’” She broke eye contact, staring out the hatch again. “What if that’s me?”
Greyson took a step toward her before he could stop himself. “Have you told Agent Bale?”
“No.” She glanced his way. “I’ve never told anyone.”
“So you can trust me with your secrets and with your life out on those ratlines, but you still had to spy on me like I might steal your precious sword out from under you.” He nurtured the ache in his chest, unsure what he hoped she might say.
Nothing was working out like he’d intended. He’d expected once they’d surrendered to the chemistry brewing between them, then it would extinguish his need to be near her. He’d been dead wrong.
But even if she admitted she felt the same, she’d still be mortal. And a chosen one, whatever that meant. His inability to keep his distance from her meant he’d have to grapple with her mortality eventually.
“I told you from the moment I stepped on this ship that I was here to do a job.” She lifted her chin slightly. That emotional armor she wore was battered but still intact. It was better than seeing that glimmer of fear in her eyes. “Part of that was placing that camera. I wasn’t doing it because I didn’t trust you. I did it because it was part of this mission.”