Whoever had answered set the phone aside, footsteps fading into the distance. He returned a few seconds later and Drake’s groans quieted. Heather breathed a sigh of relief, closing her eyes.
The other man picked up the phone again. “What the fuck was that?”
She ignored his question, opened her eyes again, and countered, “Who are you? Why do you have Drake’s phone?”
“This is Ian Flynn.”
Heather frowned, tightening her grip on the phone. “You’re the one who made an offer on my house.”
“Aye. Have you decided to accept my offer?”
Was he seriously trying to make a deal with her, while Drake was incapacitated on the floor? “Go to hell.” She sat on the couch. “How’s Drake?”
“Better. The salt helped.”
She rested back into the sofa, relief washing through her muscles.
“Good.” She rubbed out the tension in her forehead. “Can you give him the phone?”
Drake’s deep voice came through. “Are you all right?”
“Me?” She raised a brow even though he couldn’t see it. “You’re the one who just got targeted by a psychic attack again.”
“Aye, but I can’t die, remember?”
What would happen when those witches figured that out? Heather didn’t want to wander down that line of thought just yet.
“When will you be back in Savannah?”
“In a few hours,” he answered without hesitation.
Heather frowned. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
“No way I’ll be sleeping tonight anyway after that banshee wail. Might as well go home.”
She cleared her throat, reminding herself why she’d called in the first place. “I guess you’re planning on replacing Greyson in front of my house?”
“How did you…” He cursed under his breath. “Look, I couldn’t leave you unprotected, and I needed to talk to Flynn.”
“That’s what the infernal cell phone is for, carpenter!” Flynn groaned in the background.
“Fuck off!” Drake growled.
Heather smiled in spite of herself. His mistrust of a cell phone was adorably old school. But he also asked an armed man to watch her house without even consulting her first. The smile vanished.
Drake’s voice softened. “I’ll come by in the morning and explain everything.”
“All right. I have an appointment at noon tomorrow. Can you be here by nine o’clock?”
“Aye.” He cleared his throat. “I just wanted to know you were safe.”
“I didn’t say your intention was bad, but the follow-through needs some work. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She ended the call and settled back onto the couch, wishing she wasn’t excited at the prospect of seeing him in the morning. Getting attached to another unavailable man would only lead to more heartbreak. She was smarter than this.
But her heart didn’t seem to care.
Chapter Eleven
David awoke with a start, reaching for his cell phone in one fluid motion. An idea had crept into his dreams from his subconscious, and he needed to act before the thread faded into the ether.
He pressed Kingsley’s name and waited.
On the fourth ring, King answered, his words slurring together in spite of the accent. “The sun’s not even in the bloody sky yet. What the hell is wrong with you?”
“A few days ago, you told me you had seen an invite to join a new coven in Savannah.” David sat up, placing his feet on the cool floor. “Can you find it again?”
“This couldn’t have waited until I got into the office?”
“No.” David raked his hand back through his hair. “Sorry, King, but this is really important. I need you to find the details for me. I’ll send Agent Henderson in undercover. If we can infiltrate the coven, we can collect the figurehead and maybe determine how they got it from the Serpents. This is our best shot to secure the relic and track down the remaining Serpent Society members.”
“I see.” Kingsley’s voice found its usual clipped pace. “I’ll get dressed and I’ll let you know what I find once I get to the office.”
“Thanks, King.”
David ended the call and scrolled through his phone.
This case was eating him up from the inside. It was too personal, too close to feelings he didn’t want to inspect closely. He never should have dated Heather Storrey. She was a subcontractor for Department 13, and he knew better than mixing personal life with business. It was treacherous territory. After the fallout, he’d ghosted her because he’d been too chickenshit to face her, to see the pain in her eyes.
Now she was getting tangled up with the Sea Dog crew. His fault, too.
But maybe if he could find the figurehead and stop the threat to Heather, he could live with the past and move on. Actions were louder than words.
His finger hovered over Agent Henderson’s name. Aura had quickly moved up the ranks of Department 13 to become not only their best marksman, but a damned fine undercover agent. David had more years of experience undercover, and after decades working in Department 13, he was proficient when it came to wielding magic spells, but it would be easier for Aura to enter a coven of witches. Some covens welcomed males, but he didn’t have the time to discover if that would be the case here. It would be faster to place Agent Henderson.
First, King needed to get her an invite.
He pressed her name and waited.
“Agent Henderson,” she answered in a puff, her breathing labored.
David glanced at the clock. Five a.m. and she was already working out. All the agents in Department 13 had their own reasons for committing their lives to protecting Americans from paranormal threats. Aura had joined them after she survived a demon attack in a seedy club while running an undercover sting operation for the NYPD.
Whatever mental demons still chased her, she kept them to herself. Her work ethic was impeccable, and she was deadly, with countless weapons both traditional and mythical.
“This is Bale. I have King working a lead for me right now.” He got up, pacing the room. It was easier to think on his feet. “Can you be ready for an undercover assignment this week?”
“Of course, sir. What kind of assignment?”
“There’s a new coven in
