you and your friends. Maybe he was right.”
Drake chuffed, breaking eye contact. “Maybe so.”
“Seriously?” She wanted to grab his broad shoulders and shake him. “I thought we weren’t going to dance around the truth. Did something change?”
“Some secrets aren’t mine to share. Agent Bale was right to warn you.”
“Whatever.” Heather shoved the tray of food toward him and got out of the booth. “When someone shows you who they are, you should believe them, right?” She passed by a surprised Bob on her way out and handed him a twenty dollar bill. “Thanks, Bob. See you soon.”
She pushed through the glass front door without ever looking back.
…
Drake watched her go, mentally kicking himself, but he didn’t chase her down. It was pretty clear she knew the relics were real, but she didn’t know Drake and his crewmates had taken a drink from the cup. He couldn’t admit his own immortality without exposing his entire crew.
Bob stopped at his table and let out a little whistle. “Ye charmed that lass right out the door in record time, mate.”
“Fuck off, Bob.” Drake glared up at his well-meaning friend. “You never should have told her where to find me in the first place.”
Bob sobered, shaking his head. “I’ve known that woman since she used to sit on the back steps of my kitchen and cry because the kids at school teased her. She’s got a lion’s heart, and when she told me you were in danger, you’re damned right I told her where to find you.” He nudged Drake’s shoulder. “Yer crew cares about you, even if you don’t.” He glanced over at the door. “And if you let a precious soul like that one slip through yer fingers, then you deserve whatever torment you’re putting yourself through.”
Drake laid some cash on the table and got up, staring down at Bob. “You’re right, I do deserve it.”
He left the one-eyed pirate behind, grinding his teeth as he ventured out into the darkness. Heather wasn’t lingering in the tiny parking lot. Not that he expected her to be there, but apparently part of him had hoped. Stupid. What would he say? He barely knew her. What if he explained his true age and she told others? He and his crew had been able to remain in Savannah because they were careful to keep their immortality hidden from the world. He didn’t want to lie to her, but he also didn’t want to lose the life his crew had built.
Somehow, she’d known he was lying, or at best withholding the truth. It didn’t matter. As much as she intrigued him, and even managed to make him laugh, it didn’t change the fact that a banshee wailed in his ears, and his long dead nephew was apparently back from his watery grave to torment him.
He wasn’t sure how the two were connected yet, but if he cared anything for Heather, he needed to walk away now. A Banshee’s cry meant death would be coming, and he couldn’t die. The last thing he wanted was Heather’s blood on his hands, too.
Drake pulled up to his house and shut off the headlights. He’d grab his tools from the back of his truck in the morning. His place sat at the end of a bluff in the outskirts of Brunswick, Georgia. He had plenty of privacy and no real threat of robbery. He walked past his humble private dock and into his elevated home. Being on the flood plain, many of the houses were built on pilings, piers, and stilts so the rising water during hurricane season flooded the garage and not the main house.
He climbed the stairs and went directly into the master bath, stripping off his clothes and stepping into the hot shower. His eyes burned from lack of sleep, and his chest still ached, tight with regret. Not going after her had taken more restraint than he’d anticipated, her stinging words still echoed in his mind.
When someone shows you who they are, you should believe them.
Fuck, even he didn’t know who he was anymore.
He’d thought he wasn’t the kind of man to drive a woman away, one whose only sin had been to try to protect him.
Until that moment, he’d enjoyed himself, which was rare these days. She made him forget his past and his future. With her, he’d been present, in the moment. Talking freely with Heather had felt natural, and yet far from normal for him.
With a hand on either side of the showerhead,