This was why he didn’t date. He couldn’t tell her he’d been on the original Sea Dog or that he sank with the ship in 1795. He’d already stayed at this table too long. “I better get going.”
“You can’t.” She pointed to the platter. “You have to help me eat this.” The playful spark in her bright eyes tempted him to stay. “Please?”
Fuck, she was entrancing him. She’d told him earlier she didn’t deal in magic, but every second he sat across from her, he found himself increasingly under her spell.
Drake settled back into the booth and snagged a shrimp, biting back a smile. “Ye drive a hard bargain, lass.”
Chapter Five
Hearing Drake mimic a pirate brogue sparked a fire low in her belly and piqued her curiosity. There was a sense of humor hiding inside this guy. She just needed to find it. “Did you always want to be a pirate? Is that how you ended up working on the Sea Dog?”
He chuckled, focusing on the shrimp in his hand. “Not exactly.” He met her eyes. “I’ve always been a builder. Creating something with my own hands…” He turned his over, staring at the calluses and scars. “Nothing else has ever given me a purpose. While some would burn wood for the fire, I could see the potential of what it could be. And with each project I finished came the hunger to build more.”
The passion in his eyes when he talked about carpentry made her want to watch him in action. He shifted in his seat and rolled his shoulders back. She recognized the awkward silence that often happened during her mediumship sessions. He’d shared more than he intended.
“When my older sister got sick, we needed money, and the Sea Dog needed a carpenter to patch a hole. The rest is history.” He ate the shrimp, watching her for a moment, but something about the way he looked at her didn’t make her feel self-conscious. His gaze seemed more like a caress, like he enjoyed the view. He cleared his throat. “What about you? Have you always heard the dead speak?”
She smiled and sipped her tea. “As long as I can remember.” She set the glass back on the table. “My grandmother had the gift, too. She encouraged me to develop my skills and taught me not to be afraid. And when I was ready, she gave me this.” She held up her right hand, displaying her grandmother’s moonstone ring. “It was her mother’s, and when she gave it to me, I knew I was ready. I’ve been delivering messages for the dead ever since.”
“Being in the Bonaventure Cemetery that night must’ve been…busy for you?”
“Definitely.” She nodded with a chuckle. “I avoid cemeteries when I can. According to some of the spirits, I apparently shine on the other side like a beacon, alerting them that I can hear them. Most spirits are polite, but there are some that are so desperate to get a message to a loved one that they can be relentless.”
He sobered, a crease forming on his brow. “Did Agent Bale force you to go with him that night?”
She shook her head. “I consult for him sometimes. It was my idea to follow him to the cemetery. I knew his loyalties were conflicted, and I worried he might do something he could never take back.”
He nodded slowly. “We had the same worries about our boatswain, John.”
“Is the woman he saved from the underground crypt—?”
“She’s fine.” He interrupted. “You were there, so you know about the Grail, Department 13, and Pandora’s Box, right?”
She raised a brow. “We’re cutting right to the chase.”
“No sense pretending if we don’t have to, right?”
“True, I guess.” She shrugged a shoulder. “All right. I do know the Holy Grail and Pandora’s Box are real. And I also work as a subcontractor for Department 13 when David needs intel from a soul no longer living. Can’t say I know very much about Department 13, since he keeps me on a strictly need-to-know basis. What about you? What’s your connection to Agent Bale and the relics?”
There was that look again. The same one she’d seen when she told him about the little ghost boy who called Drake Cole his uncle.
He was about to lie to her again.
“John’s lady stole the box and found herself in trouble from all sides. We were there for our crewmate. That’s all.”
What was he hiding? Frustration coiled in her belly like a snake ready to strike. She should get up and leave. She promised herself no more men with secrets, yet here she was. Again.
She admitted she worked for a government agent at super-secret Department 13. She’d never shared that with anyone else. Apparently the trust wasn’t mutual.
David’s words of warning echoed through her mind. Maybe she should listen.
“Look, I laid my cards on the table.” She kept her gaze locked on his. “Why aren’t you?” His silence stung. She clucked her tongue when he didn’t answer. “Agent Bale advised me to keep my distance from 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
