“We need to talk about the Grail.” He kept his voice low, just in case.
Her brow arched. “Yeah. We should start with why you brought it along in the first place. If someone stole it, we’d have another crisis on our hands.”
“It’s safe.” He crossed his arms. “I brought it because Colton is mortal now.”
“I thought he chose not to take another drink from the cup.”
“Aye.” He nodded. “But Skye is pregnant—that’s why she didn’t come on this voyage. My gut said if something went wrong, Colton would want to live to see his baby born.”
“And you’re qualified to decide that for him?”
“No.” Greyson frowned, shaking his head. “You think I’d make that choice for someone?”
“Would you make it for me?”
“No.” Anger bubbled in his stomach as he narrowed his eyes. “I brought you out here to ask you what you’d want if you had the choice, but yer rushing into this demon’s arms so fast, I might not get a chance to put the Grail to yer stubborn lips.” He searched her eyes. “I made you a promise that you’d have your sword. Is it worth your life?”
She broke eye contact. “I didn’t want to distract you and blow our cover before, but there’s something I have to tell you.”
He caught her chin, lifting her gaze to his face. “Look at me.”
Her lush green eyes sparkled, shining with emotions he couldn’t sort out. She swallowed and whispered, “I’m the only one who can touch that sword. I need to do this, and you need to stay out of my way.”
“Fuck that,” he growled, sliding his fingers along her jawline. “I’m not like that demon partner you had in New York. I can help you. When you turn around, I’ll be right there.”
“You don’t understand.” She reached up to cup his cheek. The uncharacteristic tenderness in her touch seemed like a good-bye, stabbing at his ancient heart. “If I really am the chosen one, then the Tyrfing will want my blood. After the mess with Pandora’s box making promises to mortals in trade for opening it and unleashing pure evil into the world, we can’t risk that the sword might be sentient. What if it convinced you to kill me?”
The thought turned his stomach. “What if it does the same to you?”
“I have to hope my survival instincts are stronger than the whisperings of the Tyrfing. This is our only chance to lock it up for good, plus we can bring home a hostage alive. I have to do this.” She leaned in, brushing a kiss to his lips. “I’m sorry.”
His heart pounded, racing. It took him a moment to recognize the emotion. Fear. How long had it been since he’d faced true fear? Lifetimes.
He drew her into his arms, kissing her hair. “If I had the Grail here, would you take a sip?”
She pulled back to look up into his eyes. “Even if I did, we’d still be saying good-bye at the end of this.”
Her words stung. “So, yer just going to give up?”
“I’m not giving up. I’m making a sacrifice for the greater good.”
“Bullshit.” He stepped back as frustration boiled in his bloodstream. “Don’t make this a noble moment. I’m offering you a way to retrieve the damned sword and survive. Being the chosen one doesn’t have to mean you’re a sacrificial lamb.”
“I don’t want to die, but I’ll do whatever it takes to bring the Tyrfing back to Department 13.”
“I’ll ask you again, love. If I had the cup in my hand right now, would you take a drink?”
“If I did, my loyalty to my department wouldn’t change.”
What the hell was she talking about? He frowned. “Drinking from the cup isn’t a commitment to me or my crew.”
She stared at him with a puzzled expression. “Then why would you offer it?”
Emotions churned inside his heart, unlocking it from a prison he never realized he’d built. His voice was raw. “Because even if we dock in Savannah, and I never see you again, I’ll know yer out there on the horizon. This world is better with you in it, love.”
She closed the distance between them, fusing her lips to his. He clutched her tight against his chest, his tongue plundering the warmth of her mouth, aching for more time. Her nails dug into his back as she tilted her head, deepening the kiss. His pulse raced almost as quickly as his mind.
He couldn’t lose her. He wouldn’t. He fucking refused.
He fed on her lips, savoring her taste and memorizing the way her body fit against his. This wouldn’t be the last time he held her in his arms.
Her phone vibrated in her pocket, and she stepped back. Before taking the phone out, she whispered, “I would drink.”
His heart stuttered with hope. He’d just have to keep her alive long enough to take that sip.
Chapter Eighteen
David leaned over Kingsley’s desk and stared at the Department 13 identification on the screen.
Agent Thomas Mamon’s facial features were average, but his shocking electric-blue eyes stood out. They almost glowed. He would’ve remembered him. There was something familiar there, but David was sure they’d never met before.
“When was he an active agent?”
Kingsley clicked his mouse and pointed to the screen. His exit date was eight years ago. David glanced at the inventory printout in his hand. “Until a week after he logged into the warehouse to clean the Tyrfing.”
“Do we have any information on his whereabouts now?”
When an agent left their Department 13 ranks, part of the debriefing included a memory wipe. It was too risky to allow the secrets of their vault to reach a journalist or conspiracy theory cults. With their limited manpower, they often lost track of past agents over the years. But he could hope.
King made a few mouse clicks and sighed. “His last known address was in Brooklyn, but that was five years ago.”
Brooklyn. Aura had worked in Brooklyn. He frowned. “What was this agent’s background?”
King flipped to the previous screen. “He came from the NYPD. That’s where Aura came from, too, right?” He looked back at David. “Do you think they knew each other?”
David’s blood ran cold. That’s why this guy looked familiar.
He reached over to grab Aura’s file again, scanning the background information until he found her previous employment. There was the photo of her partner.
He held the file up to the agent’s photo on the screen. “Fuck. This was her partner.”