plane.”
She crossed her arms, fighting to keep her tone even. “Send someone else. I’ll work from here.”
“Enough.” A muscle in his cheek flexed. “You’re our weapons expert. I can’t send someone else.” He lowered his voice. “Have you ever heard of the Tyrfing sword?”
Since leaving the NYPD a few years ago, she’d learned that most mythologies from around the world had begun as murky truths in need of an explanation.
Many legendary beings, relics, and magics were shockingly real.
She lifted her tablet, clicking on the new file Agent Bale had sent over. “It’s a sword, right? Norse?”
Agent Bale nodded slowly. “The blade was forged from magic. It can cut through any material. Obviously, in the wrong hands, it could be devastating. No weapon in the world can destroy it, and no shield can stop it.”
A photo of an aging circular brick tower sliding off its foundation filled her screen with a note from the field agent that read, Something cut through solid stone. Need backup.
She narrowed her eyes, enlarging the details. It looked like someone had sliced a diagonal line through butter instead of bricks that had stood for centuries.
“What’s that got to do with a band of immortal pirates?” She lowered her tablet.
“Although someone must have smuggled it out of our vault, the relic is obviously on foreign soil now,” Agent Bale said. “We have no jurisdiction over there, and because this is a mythological item, we’d rather the entire world didn’t know about it. I can’t work through international law enforcement channels to retrieve it without risking a leak to the press, and we can’t steal it, because we’re a division of the U.S. government. If the pirate crew gets caught smuggling, it won’t entangle the president in an international coup.”
She cleared her throat, keeping her tone controlled. “Then why bother sending me with them at all?”
Agent Bale narrowed his eyes and lowered his voice. “This is too important to trust them with it alone. They’re still pirates.” He focused on his tablet. “You’re going to represent our interests and be certain the Tyrfing makes it back into our vault and doesn’t end up sold to someone else who offers them more money.”
She was screwed.
The thought of facing the man who’d blown her cover filled her with a cold rage, but she couldn’t pass up a second chance to redeem herself. No way. This time she’d be ready for… Hell, she didn’t even know his name.
But his intense hazel eyes were burned into her memory. She wished she didn’t remember the way he’d stepped into that coven of witches without a trace of fear.
She’d gone in as a new initiate to find out if the coven had found the figurehead of the Flying Dutchman. The coven’s leader was able to control spirits of the dead and use them to hurt the living. The night Aura was being ceremonially brought into the coven, one of the Sea Dog crew had burst through the circle, attacking the leader and blowing Aura’s cover. All to protect his friend. It hadn’t even been his job. He hadn’t had to face them or their magic.
But he’d done it anyway.
Maybe she wouldn’t need to see him again. She knew Drake, the ship’s carpenter, and Colton, the quartermaster. Both of them seemed capable. She could work with either one of them.
“Who is my contact on the crew?”
“You’ll be partnered with Greyson Till for this mission.” He lifted his gaze for a moment. “He’s their weapons expert.”
“I look forward to meeting him, sir.” An exaggeration for sure, but she was a professional, and she’d get through this. She would stay focused on the mission and finish it in spite of a crew of pirates. Damn straight.
“King is working on your documents now. You’ll have a background workup and a new passport for you and Greyson before you leave for Savannah. Go home and pack.” He tucked his tablet under his arm and offered his hand. “With any luck, we’ll have the relic back in the vault by next month.”
She shook his hand before his final words sank in. Aura frowned. “You think this mission will take a few weeks?”
“Definitely. It’ll take over a week just to get to Glasgow.”
“Wait. A week?” Aura stepped back. “What am I missing here?”
“You’re sailing with the crew to Scotland.”
“We’re…” She choked back a scoff. “Sailing there?”
He didn’t crack a smile.
Oh god, he was serious. She frowned. “Why aren’t we flying?”
“Once you recover the Tyrfing, you can’t check it as luggage on