Pirate's Promise (Sentinels of Savannah #5) - Lisa Kessler Page 0,11

more than two centuries walking this earth, it was rare for him to discover a person he couldn’t figure out within a few minutes.

In one fluid movement, she spun around, her gun drawn and aimed right between his eyes. He raised his hands with a smirk. “Just came to show you to the mess hall.”

She cursed under her breath. “Sneak up on me again and you might find a bullet in your head.”

He lowered his hands. “Guns won’t do you much good on this ship. Bullets hurt like hell, but they won’t kill us.”

“Most of you.” She holstered her gun. “According to our records, after 250 years, when the effects started to fade, Colton decided not to take another drink from the Holy Grail, and I heard you telling Drake you’re looking out for him. Is he mortal now, too?”

Damn. Nothing escaped this woman. “Depends on who wants to know. You? Or all of Department 13?”

“My loyalty is to my department.” She met his gaze.

“And mine is to my crew, so if you want to know about Drake, you’ll have to ask him yourself.” He crossed his arms. “I don’t trust your department. We’re convenient when you need us, but it’s never been a two-way street.”

“Please.” She rolled her eyes as she walked past him. “You’re a pirate. Loyalty isn’t what you’re known for.”

He caught her arm as she passed by, tugging her a little closer. “What exactly do you think we’re known for?”

Her lush green eyes searched his, unfazed by his glare. “You take things that don’t belong to you. You lie and cheat and steal.”

There was some truth to her words, but hearing her spit them out to his face pissed him off. It shouldn’t have gotten under his skin. But it did. He tightened his grip on her elbow as the wind gusted, intoxicating him with her scent—like leather, cloves, and cinnamon.

He ground his teeth. “You came here for my help to steal something. You’re going to sit beside me, hold my hand, and lie that you’re my wife. You’re no different than I am. We’ll both do whatever it takes to get that sword, so you can shove that judgmental attitude up your arse. We’re more alike than you think.”

He released her and stormed toward the mess hall without looking back.

What was it about her that lit the short fuse on his rage? He didn’t give a fuck what anyone thought of him. But hearing the disgust in her voice…pissed him off. Because it hurt coming from her, or because it was true?

Maybe both.

He rubbed his forehead, wishing he could push the thoughts aside. It probably had nothing to do with her. He was heading back to Glasgow Harbor, back to the past.

Back to the gallows.

Funny thing about eternity. It meant he was never free of the past. He never died, so he never forgot.

He reached up to his neck, his fingers searching for the raw places where the rope had cut into his tender flesh.

He dropped his hand to his side and walked into the mess hall, grateful for the boisterous crew inside. This was his family. He wasn’t judged—he was accepted.

They were enough. They were all that mattered.

He sat at the table next to Caleb. “Aye, mate.”

Caleb closed his book and lifted his head. “Hey, Greyson. Where’s—”

Before he could finish his question, Agent Henderson filled the doorway.

Her eyes locked on Greyson, and his ancient heart hammered. She was deadly and beautiful. He waited for her to approach him, but she took a spot at the other end of the table, beside Harmony and John.

He shouldn’t be disappointed. Maybe he was just itching for a fight.

Or.

He glanced over at One-Eyed Bob. The old salt might have planted some unwanted thoughts into his head. Drake had once accused their cook of playing matchmaker, but now Greyson wondered if Drake might be on to something.

Chapter Four

Agent Bale tapped his pencil on the desk as he stared at the computer screen.

Aura was supposed to plant webcams on the ship, but so far…no feed.

Kingsley, their shamanic computer programmer, had confirmed that she got the private wifi hookup to Department 13’s military satellite activated. So where were the feeds? How could he protect her and the mission without eyes on the ground?

He picked up his cell to check for a text. Nothing.

Shit. He should have gone on this mission himself. He’d wanted to, but his team had convinced him to send Aura instead.

She’d hesitated to accept her last undercover mission