Pirate's Promise (Sentinels of Savannah #5) - Lisa Kessler Page 0,29

both mundane and magical, but that was pretty incredible.” She turned to Greyson, her eyes softening. “Thank you.”

He bowed slightly. “My pleasure.”

The others returned to their posts, and she removed her cell from her pocket. Her smile faded. “Shit. I’ve got to call in to the department.” Her armor was firmly back in place. “I’ll find you later.”

She jogged down the stairs to her cabin, leaving him in the wake of self-reflection about how incredible it felt to fire off the cannons with someone who shared his passion and respect for the deadly weapons. He already wanted to find other ways to make her smile like that again. These were waters he’d rather not explore.

He crossed the deck to Colton’s side. “Smooth sailing ahead?”

The quartermaster smirked and looked his way. “When have we ever been so lucky?”

Greyson raised a brow. “Did ye really expect we’d make it all the way to Scotland without some weather along the way?”

Colton shoved Greyson’s shoulder with a reluctant chuckle. “An old pirate can wish, right?”

Greyson looked up at the sky. “Keeps us from getting soft, I s’pose.”

“You maybe. I’ve never been soft,” Colton said with a straight face.

“Fuck you, mate.” Greyson laughed, shaking his head in mock disgust.

Caleb rushed over, his hair hiding his face as his fingers tapped rapidly on his electronic tablet. “According to the weather service, we’ve got squalls coming in from the northeast.” The navigator checked the horizon. “With our current speed, they should be upon us by nightfall.”

Colton nodded and turned to Greyson. “We need to bring up the sails and batten down the hatches.”

“Aye. I’ll find the others.”

If they’d had a full crew of forty or more like they did in the 1700s, they could’ve waited until the rain hit before tying up the mainsails, but with their skeleton crew, the work would take over two hours.

At least it would give him something else to think about.

…

Aura sat on her cot and pressed Agent Bale’s number. He answered on the first ring. “Agent Henderson?”

“It’s me. Sorry, I missed your call.”

His keyboard clicked in the background. “Kingsley told me he didn’t have all the feeds from the ship yet. I was concerned.”

“They should be running now, sir. It took me longer than anticipated to find placements where they wouldn’t be discovered.” She left out the sexy pirate distraction. “Let me know if any of them are malfunctioning.”

“Good.” He paused, and the keyboard clicking in the background stopped. “Once you dock in Glasgow, you’ll need to get to the rendezvous right away. The sellers are getting jumpy. We wired a deposit, but now that the local authorities are investigating the damaged tower at the harbor, they’re eager to leave town. We can’t lose the sword.”

No doubt the authorities were trying to explain how an ancient storage tower suddenly had a diagonal slice through it overnight. What could cut through stone like that?

Nothing they could explain with science, that much was sure.

Her question was why. They had to have known it would draw unwanted attention. Maybe it had been a test to see if the mythical sword was real. That made more sense. It could’ve been that they didn’t expect it to work. Hard to say.

She closed her eyes, the weight of the mission settling back onto her shoulders. Reality. “I’m ready, sir.”

“Is Greyson?”

Her eyes popped open when Agent Bale said his name. Heat crept up her neck to her face as the kiss up in the crow’s nest filled her head. She remembered the way he’d held her while he’d been suspended upside down in the ratlines to keep her from falling.

“Yeah.” She cleared her throat. “I think so. We have been working on our backstory.”

“Good. Is there anything else you need from us?”

“No. I’ll be sure to let you know our ETA at the harbor once we’re within range.”

“Thanks, Henderson.” He paused and added, “Once you’ve secured the sword, be sure to stow it in range of one of the webcams. We can’t risk the pirates selling it out from under us, and I won’t tolerate another forgery, either.”

“Will do.”

“Stay in touch, Henderson.” The line went dead.

Aura dropped her cell on the cot and went to her tiny sink. She was covered in soot and gunpowder. She’d grown fond of the smell over the years, but seeing the soot on her skin made her want to shower.

Grabbing the small bar of soap, she lathered her hands and quickly washed her face. After drying her skin, she stared at her