Ghost Ship's Dark Spell, page 23
“And Angelique was okay with that?”
She wouldn’t have been able to go if they went inland, for she required salt water.
“Angie said she thought it was good for the kids to have a change of scenery. And she no doubt likes having time alone with her husband.”
“No doubt.” Fiona fought a smile.
“Maybe if I was having frequent sex too, I wouldn’t be so irritable,” Newt admitted.
“You haven’t found anyone?” she dared to ask.
“Nah. I’ve had a couple of flings, but nothing worth mentioning. I’m limited to this one-mile radius of Ireland where there’re shockingly few gay ghosts at the moment.”
Fiona tried to hide her smirk. “That is surprising.”
“Fiona Maguire!” he huffed. “You’re not being very empathetic. Genny’s way more understanding, but then she’s not getting laid either.”
“You’ve seen Genny?” She felt a rush of envy.
“Yeah,” Newt replied. “But she hasn’t been around for a while. You still can’t see her?”
Fiona shook her head.
“Angie can’t either. I sometimes pass messages from her. I can tell Genny regrets having you do that concealment spell.”
Fiona regretted it, too. “Should I go knock on the lighthouse door?”
“Let me announce your arrival,” Newt said. “I need some excitement.”
She nodded.
“Angie, Angie.” He sang the title of the Rolling Stones song like he’d always done. “You have a visitor. Your second mama’s here and she has food!”
A loud squeal was heard from the lighthouse and a moment later, Angelique rushed out the door with a bedsheet tucked around her.
She raced barefoot across the grass, threw open the squeaky gate and came to Fiona, arms open. They hugged, once again triggering a loud spark.
“Oh, Fiona, I’m so glad to see you again. After our short visit a while back, I missed you even more.” She held her tight.
“I’ve missed you, too, sweetie.”
Angelique sniffed the air. “Mmm. I smell food.”
They ended their embrace and Fiona passed her two bags. Angelique opened them both and moaned.
“God, don’t have an orgasm, Angie,” Newt said. “Another one, I mean,” he whispered and Angelique punched him in the arm.
She looked in the other bags. “Fiona. You brought fruits and veggies we don’t have here and some other groceries…and squee…cake from my favorite bakery.”
Fiona smiled. “I missed your birthday. And Amarra’s.”
Angelique reached inside the bag with the burgers. “Does anyone want some?”
“I’ll eat with you of course, but mostly it’s for you and Faolan.”
“I could eat it,” Newt sighed. “But I wouldn’t even enjoy it.”
“Come on, Eeyore.” Angelique gave him a kind smile. “Try to be happy. Fiona’s here.”
Fiona glanced toward the lighthouse when Faolan came out the door wearing breeches and boots, and carrying his tunic. God he looked a hell of a lot like Lorcan. Their bodies were very similar. Same grand height, muscular chest and six-pack abs. Even their faces were remarkably alike. They also had matching scars on their backs from a soul scythe.
Other than their hair and eyes—longish light-brown and blue for Faolan and short black and green for Lorcan—they could pass for twins, which was odd considering they were only half-brothers. Faolan of course had a thick Irish accent, while Lorcan’s was English, having been raised by several English nannies and governesses.
Their personalities, however, were very different. Despite being a former pirate, Faolan was more serious, proper, and rarely used profanities. He was very respectful with women. There’d been a few heated discussions about how Lorcan could improve his behavior in that regard.
Raised by his elderly grandparents, from an early age, Faolan assisted his grandfather with the tasks of keeping the lighthouse. Fever took both grandparents when he was barely fifteen though he’d already been caring for them for years. He’d begun his life as a deck hand on a ship straight after. By age twenty-one, he had his own ship and crew.
Lorcan’s childhood, by comparison, had been far less burdensome, despite being raised by Odhran.
Faolan pulled his tunic over his head and nodded to Fiona. “Good afternoon, Fiona. ’Tis grand to see you. A man less confident in his wife’s affections might be offended that anyone could have her leapin’ from their marriage bed with such enthusiasm, but I’m glad of anythin’ that makes Angel smile.”
Fiona laughed as he embraced her.
My God he felt like Lorcan.
“Hello, Faolan. It’s nice to see you.”
“Aye, Fiona. It’s been an age.”
“Oh, Faolan,” Angelique said, holding a burger in one hand and a hotdog in the other. “You have to taste these. They’re heavenly.”
He took a bite of each and nodded, clearly, not understanding the appeal. But if Angelique offered him dog shite, he’d probably sample it, just to please her.
Wolf the Fifth jumped on Angelique, looking for a handout.
“Down, you wee beast.” Faolan patted the dog. “You’ll get your fair share. You always do.”
“There are lobster rolls, too,” Fiona said. “You like those, Faolan.”
When Angelique reached for that bag her sheet came untucked and slipped off. Faolan grabbed it and wrapped it back around her, clucking his tongue.
“My wife tends to be a bit of an exhibitionist.”
Angelique laughed. “Oh, Captain, I’m certainly not; I don’t even swim naked when the children are around. But everyone here has seen me without clothes. Fiona probably changed my diapers.”
Fiona shook her head. “No, you were potty trained when I met you but I did bathe you sometimes.”
“We even went skinny-dipping once,” Angelique said with a cheeky grin.
Faolan looked at Fiona, shocked.
“I was drunk,” Fiona explained. “When I went skinny-dippin’ was not when I was bathin’ her.” She tittered.
Angelique cocked her head. “What’s going on, Fiona? You’re acting funny.”
“Funny? Aren’t I always a barrel of laughs?”
“No. Well sometimes you’re freaking hilarious, but something’s different about you. You seem nervous or…I don’t know…flustered.”
Probably because seeing Faolan’s sexy physique made her miss Lorcan even more. She certainly didn’t want Angelique, with her magical intuition, suspecting.
Cal and Ainsley had once said that she seemed different, too. Later, they surmised it was because she was in love with Lorcan. She didn’t want Angelique or Faolan to learn that. Not yet.
Angelique grinned. “Is it to do with that man you were going to tell me about?”
Faolan stared harder.
“We’ll have lots of time to talk,” Fiona said.
Then Angelique squealed again.
“Jesus, Angie.” Newt’s spirit covered his ears. “What has you so excited now?”
“Look at Fiona’s back.” She pointed. “She has her guitar. Yay. We can sing together. I’ll play the piano; Fiona will play the guitar. It’ll be like old times. Too bad we don’t have a karaoke machine.”
“Yeah, too bad,” Newt said, sarcastic. He sounded really down.
“Okay. Let’s go inside. We’ll eat some more of the yummy food and you can tell us what you’ve been up to,” Angelique said.
“But if I’ve interrupted somethin’ Newt and I can go visit till…later.”
Faolan shook his head and put his arm around Angelique. “Angel’s happy to see you, as am I. We were only after goin’ to sleep for a while anyway.”
Fiona noticed the flash of sadness in Angelique’s eyes. Like Fiona, she was good at concealing her pain. She reached up and touched Faolan’s cheek then cleared her throat before she spoke. “It’s a bit of a chore juggling things when half my life must be spent in the water, and the other half with my husband and children. People say there aren’t enough hours in a day. Divide that in two and that’s my life.”
Faolan touched her long tousled auburn hair with a love so evident it made Fiona tear up. Their life had unusual challenges, but they loved one another deeply.
“I’m not complaining…at least not constantly,” Angelique said.
“Yeah, Angie, don’t whine too much.” Newt rolled his eyes. “You could be dead.”
Angelique took Newt’s hand, empathetic.
“Newt told me the children are with Amarra and Danhoul?” Fiona said. “How have they been? Were they excited or nervous about being away from you?”
“A little of both,” Angelique said. “But it’ll be good for them.”
“It will, Angel.” Faolan sounded like he was trying to convince her.
She let out a breath. “Let’s go catch up. Tell me all your news, Fiona. How are Cal and Ainsley? And Timothy? I’m sure Newt wants to know.”
Odd, Newt hadn’t asked. Timothy had been Newt’s husband. It was awkward after he’d remarried. Newt always claimed he wanted him to find another. Nonetheless, it would be difficult.
Faolan picked up the shopping bags Fiona’d brought as well as her travel bag. He was a brawny man—chivalrous, too. Another similarity to Lorcan.
“Ainsley and Cal had twin boys, born three weeks ago. I’ve recently been to see their family.”
“How exciting for my beautiful sister witch and my great-grandpa!” Angelique laughed because when she’d met Cal he was only a few years older than her. “That means each of the four transcendent witches have given birth to twins.”
“We didn’t know they were expectin’ again,” Faolan said. “My little brother’s usually the bearer of news from the other witches and their husbands, but he’s not been around for some time. I hope those missions he’s part of haven’t found him in peril.”
Fiona caught the worry in his tone.
“No. Lorcan’s okay. He’s been busy but when I saw him a few weeks ago, he was well.”
All eyes went to her. “You’ve seen my brother?” Faolan asked.
Should she at least tell them she worked for LAMB? Except she wasn’t presently. She couldn’t say she and Lorcan lived together. They believed she barely tolerated him because of everything his father had done.
“We both live in Boston. Occasionally I do psychic work for LAMB so we run into each other…sometimes.”
She was such a liar—not even a good one.
Angelique eyed her closer as they went inside.
They’d done a fantastic job making the lighthouse a lovely home. There was a good-sized lounge, kitchen and one large bedroom on the main floor. The second had two bedrooms where the twins slept when they weren’t staying at the cottage. The children seemed entirely well-adjusted having two sets of parents. It was normal for them. Danhoul had fathered one of Angelique’s twins—Faolan the other. If anyone instinctively knew which twin was fathered by which man, it was never voiced.
The children loved the spiral staircase and the stunning views from the top of the lighthouse. As did Fiona—she spent lots of time up there when she visited.
“Would you like to stay at the cottage?” Angelique asked. “Or one of the kids’ rooms if you like. Although if I’m gone through the night, it might be awkward you and Faolan staying here alone together.”
Faolan’s face turned ruddy. “Do you think Fiona’s goin’ to make a move on me or the other way around, Angel?”
Angelique burst out laughing. “See how I’ve changed him? At one time he would never have joked like that.”
“Maybe he wasn’t joking,” Newt’s spirit said. “Fiona’s one foxy-looking lady. You don’t look different than you did when Angie and I were kids.”
“Right?” Angelique said. “Must be those witch genes. They’re keeping you young or maybe…it’s that mystery man.”
Fiona laughed. “Don’t men tend to age a woman?”
“It depends how good they are in bed,” Angelique said. Those endorphins released are great for the skin. I should be eternally young, right, Captain?”
She winked at Faolan.
He shook his head. “Angel’s far too open in talkin’ about private matters.”
“I have a present for you, too, Faolan.” Fiona reached inside her bag and pulled out the second bottle of rum from the shipwreck. “Happy birthday.”
“Thank you.” He looked at it closely. “This is an unusual bottle. I’ve not seen any like it except in the Caribbean.”
“It’s from the Caribbean,” Fiona replied, “but it is unique. I found it aboard a ship lost around two hundred and fifty years ago…well from the time when I live. It was made in about 1774. So it’s well aged.”
He touched her shoulder. “Your generosity’s much appreciated, Fiona.”
Angelique set the food and plates on the table and sat beside Faolan with Fiona across from them. Angelique took another burger and a lobster roll, again one in each hand. She licked her lips and smiled. Faolan and Fiona selected a lobster roll. And Newt…simply sulked.
“How’s Timothy?” Angelique asked again.
Newt sported another frown.
“Do you want me to tell you, Newt? Is it too difficult?”
He sighed. “No. I want to hear. I do hope he’s happy.”
Fiona hesitated.
“He is happy, isn’t he?” Newt hovered closer to Fiona and she squeezed his hand.
“He is. He and Drake adopted three children, a sibling group from Ukraine. They’ve recently moved to Connecticut; Drake’s parents are there. They’ll require lots of help.”
“I’m glad he has a family,” he said. “I never wanted children, so…it’s good he found Drake. What about the art gallery? And your apothecary shop?”
“Timothy couldn’t bring himself to sell your gallery. Another artist runs it. He seems great. We recently sold the apothecary shop. I hope no one’s upset about that.”
Everyone looked at her.
“No,” Angelique replied. “I know you mostly kept the business because you and Mom started it together. But what do you do now? Aren’t you bored? You spent a lot of time there.”
“If you sold the shop,” Faolan asked, “where do you reside?”
“I rent a house…with a roommate.”
“Is this roommate who you’re sleeping with?” Angelique grinned.
Newt leaned in closer awaiting Fiona’s reply.
“Do you have whiskey?” Fiona changed the subject.
Angelique stood and hooked her arm through Fiona’s. “Are you avoiding my question, lovely Fiona?”
“I’ll most likely tell you tomorrow.”
She altered the words of a quote from The Princess Bride, one of their favorite films, and Angelique giggled.
“Faolan, love, get Fiona a strong drink. I might have to get this woman drunk so she’ll tell me about her man.”
Fiona grinned. She’d only tell them snippets and definitely wouldn’t mention her man was Lorcan…yet.
Chapter Twenty-Six
To his surprise, Lorcan reached Dalton’s penthouse without any laser beam alarms announcing his arrival. In fact, there didn’t seem to be any high-tech security systems at all. How strange, given that Dalton was one of LAMB’s bigwigs.
Even more perplexing, however, was that the massive apartment looked more like a sparsely furnished show home than the residence of a devoted family man. On his desk sat one framed photo of his wife and grandkids, the only human touch in the otherwise sterile residence.
The cupboards were mostly empty and when Lorcan opened the fridge, he found only take-out containers. It was clear Dalton lived alone.
Lorcan crept toward the bedroom where he found a king-sized bed with expensive sheets and a thick duvet—he knew high-end brands—all with packaging creases still visible. Had it ever been slept in?
He opened the closet: a dozen dark suits, a few pairs of black shoes and a tie rack.
“What is it you’re hoping to find, Mr. Wright?”
Lorcan nearly jumped out of his skin when Dalton stepped out from a dark corner of the room.
Shit!!
“Just nosy I guess, Boss.” He aimed for a casual tone. How had he been caught?
The elderly man looked up and tipped his head to the CCTV camera, nearly hidden against the coffered ceiling.
Lorcan pulled out the scrambler Dewey and Ringo had given him. “The security personnel should all be set with footage from earlier showing an empty apartment.”
Dalton sighed. “Come with me.” He motioned to a glimmering doorway. Lorcan followed him through a corridor that led him straight back to the magical room in LAMB’s library. No elevator ride this time.
He was startled to find Dickens, Kumar, Rohese, and Gilbert waiting for them. With them were Dewey, who now wore a tie, Ringo, whose eyeglasses—yet again—were held together with electrical tape…and another brother?
Lorcan blinked. Jaycee had said something earlier when in Scotland in that mysterious cabin about a third brother. The evidence in front of him indicated that the rumors about LAMB’s clandestine experiments with cloning were more than idle gossip. The third young scientist was identical to the first two, right down to the dark glasses and cowlick.
“Ogee, I presume?” Lorcan gestured to him.
“How did you know?” The latest—the original?—boy scientist smiled and extended his hand.
Lorcan shook it. “I’m just that good. So why is this little group gathered here?”
He got the sense they were on his side.
“Because, Mr. Wright,” said Dalton, looking exhausted, “after you started asking questions of Dickens and tried to employ Dewey, Ringo and Kumar in your quest to learn more about LAMB, I thought it best I pull everyone into the loop.”
“Our fearless leader sounds afraid.” Dickens looked at Dalton. “And I cannae help but think with good reason if, out of the oodles of agents and employees here, there’s only eight of us he feels he can trust. Your partner is another, but it appears she’s disappeared into thin air.” She winked.
