“Thank you. I would like that very much.”

  As Kingston and I walked out of the room together, hand in hand, I felt the weight of what had been lost. Underneath the joy of meeting the family I never knew existed was sorrow. Anna had buried her husband and three of her four children. Polina had lost her son and daughter-in-law. Neither Katarina nor I had the chance to truly know our parents. We were both the remnants of something that had been systematically destroyed.

  After we’d eaten, Anna approached and I stood. She squeezed my hand one more time. “You will not disappear on me, will you? You will stay?”

  “I’m not going anywhere,” I promised.

  Katarina motioned to Kingston as we were walking out. “If you have a minute, I have a message to deliver.”

  “Of course.” He held my hand tightly as she led us a few feet from the others.

  “Dagger wanted me to let you know he’ll be in touch soon.”

  “He’s all right?” I asked.

  “He is. There were things both he and I, as well as other members of Minerva Protocol, had to do in order to ensure Eleanor’s and Mercury’s safety. For him, it meant making you believe his cover had been blown so he could go dark.”

  I understood, as I was sure Kingston would. I’d done something similar when I left the villa in Montenegro, letting him and the rest of the coalition wonder if I was dead or alive. He had too when he resigned from the coalition and went dark himself in order to look for me.

  As Kingston and I headed to our room after thanking Katarina and saying good night, Lyra caught up with us and looked between him and me. “If you’d like, the three of us can meet tomorrow morning or whenever you’re ready. There’s more about the family, about why all this happened, and about Minerva you need to know.”

  “I’d like that.” I hugged her after we ascended the stairs and were about to go in opposite directions. “And thank you for keeping me safe and for letting me know you cared about me, even though you couldn’t tell me who we were to each other.”

  Her bottom lip trembled like mine so often did. “I love you, Charity. I hope you know how much.”

  “I do, and I love you too.”

  “Would you like to read some of the book?” Reaper asked once we were in our suite.

  “I should, but…”

  “Too much?”

  “For now, and I’m so tired.”

  “Then, we’ll call it a night.”

  Reaper and I made love, then fell asleep in each other’s arms. It was sweet, full of promise and relief. We’d come too close to losing our lives that making the connection, feeling our naked bodies joined together, had become as vital as breathing.

  We found Lyra in the conservatory the following morning. She sat in a wicker chair surrounded by orchids and jasmine, staring out at the lake through floor-to-ceiling windows. The morning light made her look older than I remembered, or maybe it was grief aging her in real time.

  “Good morning,” I said when Kingston and I walked in. “May we join you?”

  She looked up, and I saw she’d been crying. “Please.”

  Now that I knew to look for it, I could see my mother so clearly. At least from the few photos I’d seen until recently. How had I missed it before?

  She motioned to a sideboard. “There’s coffee and a light breakfast if either of you is hungry.”

  “What would you like?” Kingston asked, already moving in that direction.

  “Just coffee for now. Thank you.”

  “I’m sure you have many questions,” Lyra began once I’d taken a seat. “If it’s all right with you, I’d like to start at the beginning.”

  “Of course.”

  “Mama told you some last night, but I’ll offer a more comprehensive overview.”

  She sounded so much like the professor I’d once believed her to be. As she spoke, I caught a hint of a British accent that was only evident with certain words, unlike Eleanor’s, which was so pronounced.

  “I’d appreciate that,” I responded, then thanked Kingston when he handed me a cup of coffee, then sat beside me.

  “My father, Horatio Hyde, began working for the CIA when he was in his mid-twenties. That was when he met Mikhail Stepanov, who was a Russian national who’d become a spy for the agency.”

  I took a sip, savoring the rich dark roast. “Anna—Grandmama—mentioned Horatio’s code name was Minerva.”

  “That’s right. As she alluded to, life was quite different then, particularly in regard to technology. While code names are meant to shield identities now, it was more necessary that they did then. Agencies often used code names that were intentionally misdirecting—using a traditionally feminine name for a male agent was a deliberate operational security measure.” Her expression shifted to one of pride, and she squared her shoulders. “Minerva represented wisdom and strength, tactical intelligence and strategic thinking. All words that described exactly who my father was.”

  “Please go on. I’m sorry I interrupted.”

  Lyra turned to Kingston and smiled. “She was always so inquisitive. And challenging,” she added with a wink. “You made me very proud, then and now.”

  My cheeks flushed, and I murmured my thanks.

  “My father and Mikhail found evidence of Operation Argead years prior to when Irish Warrick began investigating the criminal enterprise. When their probe led them to suspect high-ranking officials from the CIA were involved, they took their research ‘offline,’ so to speak. Or, in other words, they went rogue.”

  “Were you still living in the States at the time and attending Bethel-Rhodes?”

  “Yes. By then, your mother had already graduated and was attending the University of Virginia. That’s where she met your father.”

  “Was she interested in a career in intelligence also?”

  “Her major was in foreign affairs, and her plan had been to pursue a career in diplomacy. However, she and Stephen married shortly after he graduated, and she quit university to build a life with him closer to the CIA headquarters.”

  “Did my father know Horatio?”

  “He did. In fact, my dad became Stephen’s mentor. In the years following the accident, he carried great guilt over it.” She turned toward the window and wiped a tear away.

  “If this is too difficult, we can stop for today. Or completely,” I offered.

  “No. It’s important we continue.”

  “Of course.”

  “When you were three and your parents died in the car accident, my father suspected foul play. However, it wasn’t until Pavel and Oksana died in a similar way a few months later that he and Mikhail became certain their work had been exposed.”

  “That was when the rest of the family went into hiding?” I asked.

  “Yes, my mother and Polina primarily. Eleanor was already with the CIA by then. And, like you eventually became, I was an intern with the NSA.”

  “And Edgar?”

  “His dream was to attend Cambridge, so he’d been living in the UK and working for SIS for some time.”

  “Right out of university?” Kingston asked.

  “Prior to graduating, actually. He was recruited early on.” She stood, walked over to the sideboard, and poured more coffee.

  “Hungry?” Kingston leaned over and asked.

  “Not yet, but don’t hold off on my account.” I almost giggled when he was halfway out of his chair before I finished my sentence.

  We spent the next hour talking about the years following my parents’ death.

  “My father and Mikhail left the agency within a year of the accidents. By then, they were convinced the scale of corruption they’d uncovered was on an international level. Initially, they focused primarily on Argead’s activities.”

  When there was a knock at the door, Blackjack stepped inside.

  “Sorry for the interruption, but I wanted you to know I’m on my way to the airport to pick up Mom and Dad.”

  I turned to Lyra. “Excuse me a moment?”

  “Of course. In fact, I need a short break.”

  We both stood, and when she left the room, I pulled Kingston aside. “You should go with him,” I suggested.

  “You’re sure?”

  I smiled. “I’ll be okay.”

  After I promised to fill him in on what he missed and they left for the airport, I made a small plate of fruit and waited for Lyra to return. My mind swirled with so many questions as I tried to piece together what I already knew with what she told me. While I was anxious to fast forward to our meeting at the Air Force Academy, I understood her reasons for wanting me to know the earlier part of the story.

  “Ready to continue, or should we wait?” she asked when she walked in and shut the door behind her.

  “We can continue,” I assured her.

  Rather than sit in the chair where she’d previously been, Lyra sat on a small sofa and motioned for me to join her. When I did, she reached for my hand. “I want you to know it was very difficult not to be involved in your life. Particularly in those early years. As my mother said, your grandparents sent photos, along with letters about you. Nothing can make up for the time we lost, though, the time when so much about your life was kept from you.”

  “I promise you that I do understand.”

  Her grip tightened. “While I believe you do, there will be times, now even, when you may question our decisions and our actions. That too is understandable. What I hope is that you will not question our love for you.”

  “I won’t, and I mean that sincerely. I felt it from the moment we got here.”

  “I’m glad. All of this was harder on her than anyone else.”

  I brushed away a tear. “She lost so much.”

  Lyra studied me. “You’re a lot like her.”

  “I am?”

  “Your empathy has always driven you, Charity. My mother is the same way, as was yours.”

  Warmth settled in my chest. “For most of my life, I wondered if I was anything like her.”

  “You are in so many ways.”

  “When we were interrupted, you were talking about the time after the accident,” I prompted.

  “Right. At first, my father’s and Mikhail’s investigation was solely about Argead. It’s unclear when my father shifted his focus, but at some point, he discovered there was an equally powerful faction based out of the US.”

  “Avalon?” I asked.

  “That’s right. They spent three years documenting a network of corruption involving defense contractors, government officials, and intelligence assets—all connected, all working together to manipulate conflicts and profit from instability. Eleanor, Edgar, and I believe this is what got both men killed. Mikhail’s death was made to look like a Russian hit, but my father never believed they were behind it. Then, when my father was ‘killed in the line of duty,’ as the agency told us, we knew the extent of corruption they’d uncovered.”

  “Nemesis—Margeaux Jordan—maybe you know her…”

  “By reputation only.”

  “Anyway, she was able to get a brief from the DoD about Eleanor’s initial investigation, her time at the Air Force Academy, and her subsequent disappearance.”

  She nodded as if she already knew.

  “Do you believe Briggs was behind their deaths?” I asked.

  “Behind them is a good way to put it. However, we’ve yet to prove it.” Her hands clenched in her lap.

  I thought about Briggs in his Alexandria office, his nervous tells when we’d said the names Mercury and Prism. “We met with him.”

  Lyra had the same reaction as when I mentioned the DoD brief, as if she already knew.

  Something occurred to me. “He knew who I was, didn’t he?”

  “I have no doubt.” She glanced out the window. “Kingston and his brother have returned with their parents. Perhaps now would be a good time for us to take a break.”

  While I still had so many questions, processing what I’d learned so far was overwhelming. However, there was one I knew I had to ask now. “Eleanor…” I had to take a deep breath when I was overcome with emotion.

  “Take your time.” Lyra squeezed my hand.

  “As she lay dying, she looked right at me and said, ‘It’s up to you now.’”

  She turned to face me. “I want to be very clear about something.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “While you, Katarina, my mother, Aunt Polina, and I are what’s left of the family, you must understand that continuing my father’s mission, finding justice for those we lost, isn’t something you inherit. It’s something you choose. Eleanor chose it. Edgar chose it. I chose it. Even Katarina chose it. But you don’t have to.”

  I thought about Eleanor throwing herself in front of that bullet, about Jekyll dying without me knowing he was my uncle, about all the years Mercury had carried this burden while pretending to be my mentor instead of my aunt.

  “I don’t see how I can do anything other than choose it too.”

  “You are well aware of the inherent danger.” She phrased it as a statement rather than a question. “And while the weight of the family is heavy on your shoulders now, you must also think about your future.” She motioned outside the window to where Kingston was walking to the front door.

  “But if we don’t finish what Minerva started, Briggs, Vasiliev, and those like them will keep killing people. My parents’ deaths and what you, Eleanor, Edgar, Anna, and Polina have sacrificed, will be in vain.”

  “True. But I assure you, they will stop at nothing to destroy us too.”

  “Won’t they come for me anyway?”

  “They will. More so now.”

  For the second time this morning, I thought about Kingston’s words, saying he’d be with me for whatever my family needed and whatever the mission required, regardless of the danger. How could I commit to anything less?

  “You can count on me,” I said without hesitation. “And tomorrow, I’d like to learn more about Minerva Protocol. If possible, tour the headquarters.”

  “Of course.” She stood at the sound of a knock at the door. When she opened it, Kingston walked in, and she left without saying anything else.

  “How’d it go?” he asked.

  “I’m going to join Minerva,” I blurted. “And finish what my grandfather started.”

  “You are?”

  “As Lyra told me a few minutes ago, it isn’t expected. It’s a choice. I know what I have to do, but I can’t expect the same of you. Not until you think it over. Until you’re certain.”

  He took both my hands in his. “I’ve been certain since the day we met.”

  “But—”

  He leaned forward and quieted me with a kiss. “As I told you, I’m with you. No matter what. However, there’s one thing I need to know before we leave this room.”

  “What?”

  He got down on one knee. “I’d like to start this new phase of our life, to begin this journey together, as man and wife. Charity, will you marry me?”

  EPILOGUE

  REAPER

  In the month since my brother and I met my parents at the Geneva airport, I told them I planned to ask Charity to be my wife, and she’d said yes, my life—our lives—had changed in ways I never could have predicted.

  She officially resigned from the NSA, and I did the same with K19 Security Solutions, which meant my time as a member of one of the coalition’s task forces was at an end. Working with them would go on, though, as we joined forces to battle against the same criminal enterprises Minerva and Redbird had risked their lives to take down.

  We’d spent several long days at the Protocol’s main facility, learning about its inner workings. We also found out more about Eleanor’s vision, the role her husband had played in the organization, as well as how she’d infiltrated SMO Romanov.

  At the start of our second week in Switzerland, Dagger had arrived, giving me the opportunity to thank him for the intel he’d been able to pass on to me and to introduce him to Charity. Later that same day, Mercury made an announcement, “officially” welcoming him to Minerva’s council of twelve, taking over the position previously held by Eleanor’s late husband.

  Soon enough, Charity and I would also move into our official roles, missions would be crafted, and ops would be carried out, but today was the start of our real journey together, the one we’d take as man and wife.

  When I’d asked him to be my best man, my brother wanted to know if I was sure about the commitment I intended to make. As I’d told Charity when I proposed, I had been since the day we met. Whatever was in store for us, then and now, didn’t matter as much as our being together, working and living side by side, arguing and making up, loving and supporting each other.

  Charity had flourished in the brief time we’d been in Lausanne, which we’d decided to make our permanent home. She’d spent time with her grandmother, Lyra, Katarina, and Polina, forging bonds I knew she’d never dreamed possible, happily settling into her role as a granddaughter, niece, and cousin.

  Today, Katarina and Lyra would stand by her side for our ceremony while Bishop and Hornet would be by mine. Uncle Henry, as we affectionately called him, would officiate the wedding as her family and mine, along with friends who were as close as they would be if we were also bound by blood, celebrated with us.

  “Ready?” Bishop asked when Hornet knocked on the door, saying it was time for us to take our places in the solarium.

  As we walked out of the suite that had been Charity’s and mine since the day we arrived in Lausanne, made our way down the grand staircase, and toward the room where the ceremony would take place, I glanced into the main living room and up at the portrait of Horatio Hyde that hung above the fireplace.

  “I need a minute.” I stepped inside and motioned for them to go ahead. “I’ll guard your granddaughter with my life and spend every day loving her as much as you loved Anna.” I looked up at the man whose legacy I’d also vow to honor.

  “He’s counting on it.” I turned around and saw Anna, arm in arm with Lyra. “And so are we.”

  “I won’t let you down. Any of you.”

  “Someone’s waiting for you.” Lyra winked as she led her mother out of the room. “Turn around,” she added over her shoulder.

 

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