Pirate's Promise (Sentinels of Savannah #5) - Lisa Kessler Page 0,38
enough bridges this afternoon. She could give them her time. They were at least two hours away from docking in Glasgow, anyway.
“All right.”
Char picked up a book and a yellow legal pad from the other chair and placed them on the table. She opened the book to a page marked with a Post-it. The pages were yellowed, and the Old English writing was smeared in a few spots. She ran her finger along the prose as she read aloud, “The Tyrfing is cursed with an appetite for blood.”
Aura nodded, recognizing the information. “It’s part of what gives it the power to cut through any material. That magic comes with a price.”
And blood was always the most precious currency.
“I also found a mention of”—Char brought her notepad over, checking her notes—“a chosen one.”
A chill raced down Aura’s spine as she straightened in her chair, peering at the pages. “A what?”
“King Svafrlami trapped the dwarves and demanded they fashion him a magic sword, but they cursed it to hunger for his bloodline. According to Norse legend, after the king defeated his enemies, the blade killed his son.”
“So his descendants would be dead. The curse should be over.” Aura frowned.
Char raised a brow. “His son was fighting at the king’s side. He could’ve already had children of his own.”
“Shit.” Aura crossed her arms. “His son’s descendants must be gone by now, right?”
“I don’t know.” Char shrugged. “But anyone on this ship with Viking ancestors could be at risk with the Tyrfing on board.”
“The sword will be locked up in the lead case.” Aura wasn’t sure whom she was convincing, Char or herself. “It’s not going to walk around the ship killing people.”
Harmony cleared her throat. “Maybe not, but judging by my run-in with Pandora’s box, there’s a chance it could be sentient. These relics are forged from materials that are older than the human race.” She shuddered. “The box could whisper into the minds of people.”
Char nodded slowly. “They call them cursed for good reason.”
“I’ll be careful.” Aura glanced at Char’s notes. “I read our file on the sword in Washington, but I didn’t see any mention of a chosen one.”
Char flipped the pages of her notepad. “I have remote access to thousands of captains’ logs through the maritime museum. I did some cross-referencing of named swords and came across a letter from a privateer captain who sailed to Scandinavia. He mentioned the Tyrfing had a target based on the king’s bloodline. He called the target the ‘chosen one.’” She studied Aura for a moment. “Why?”
Aura blinked, her ex-partner’s hiss whispering through her memory. Chosen one.
Her pulse thrummed. Maybe the department could decipher the meaning and give her any necessary warnings, just in case she was the target.
Except she’d never told anyone about her last night on the force with her NYPD partner. At least not anyone at Department 13. She’d confided in Greyson. The lines were blurring again between her work, reality, and whatever this was she had been experiencing on the ship.
She cleared her throat. “I need to get this information to Agent Bale.”
Char glanced at Harmony and back to Aura again. “If there’s something you’re not telling us about this sword, we could all be in danger.”
“By my records, you’ve both taken a drink from the Holy Grail. No sword is going to hurt you.” Unless you’re the chosen one. She silenced her inner voice and stood. “I better make a call. Thanks for the information.” She pocketed the webcam as she studied the women across the table. Part of her envied them. They were with the men they loved. Love wasn’t even an option for Aura. “Do either of you regret giving up your lives and jobs to be part of this crew?”
Harmony frowned and shook her head. “Who told you we gave up our jobs? I still work as an investment broker at John’s firm.”
Char nodded. “I’ll have to leave the maritime museum eventually, when people start to notice I’m not aging. But I’ll build a new identity and work somewhere else. I’ll still be a historian.”
Aura filed the information away. It didn’t really matter.
Even if Greyson forgave her for spying on them, he wouldn’t leave his crew in Savannah, and she was based in Washington, D.C., with Department 13. It wasn’t like they could move in together or date. Besides, he was immortal and would stay sexy as hell forever. She’d eventually be mistaken for his grandmother.