Pirate's Promise (Sentinels of Savannah #5) - Lisa Kessler Page 0,2
a plane. It’ll be safest to sail it back.”
Her thoughts spiraled. “This is a dangerous artifact. Can’t the department send me on a private jet?”
“Aside from the budget concerns, do you really want to be thirty-five thousand feet up in the air with a blade capable of slicing through metal?” He shook his head. “On the ship, you can sheath it and keep it locked up until you dock Stateside again.”
“I see your point.” She still didn’t like it.
“Good.” He nodded. “Go pack, and then meet me back here for your paperwork.” He met her eyes. “You’re our best chance of recovering the Tyrfing. We’re counting on you, Agent Henderson.”
His words settled on her shoulders with a familiar weight. She could do this.
No pirate was going to get in her way. Not this time.
…
The flight to Savannah, Georgia, was practically empty.
The entire row was hers. Casting a glance over her shoulder to be sure the seats behind her were unoccupied, she released a satisfied breath and faced forward again.
Time to get this over with.
She slid the documents that Kingsley had compiled out of the envelope.
She opened her new passport, blinking at her new name and address. Amber Smith from Savannah, Georgia. Okay, that would be easy for her to remember and for others to forget.
She cracked open the second passport and almost dropped the whole damned envelope.
His bright-hazel eyes stared up at her with the cockiness of a pirate who had already blown her cover once.
Of course this was Greyson Till.
Shit.
Bale owed her an explanation. He should’ve at least warned her that the Sea Dog crew’s weapons expert was the same man who’d screwed everything up for her a couple months ago. Not that it would’ve made any real difference. She’d still be on this flight. The Tyrfing was a weapon of mythical proportion. It was her job to bring it home.
And she would do her job.
Somehow.
She stuffed the passports back into the envelope and extracted the backstory file about Amber Smith and…her husband.
No.
She flopped her head against the seat, taking a slow, deep breath.
Yes, if they tried to purchase a stolen artifact, it would be easier to get the meeting as a rich married couple. But did it have to be the guy who’d ruined everything? Just once, couldn’t it be a simple retrieval mission? Shit.
She pulled herself together and read through her backstory.
They’d been married five years. No longer newlyweds, but young enough to take risks to build their collection. Her husband, Greg Smith, was a descendant of the Oglethorpe family, who’d originally settled Savannah and had owned property there since 1787. Old money. Check.
He was a sailor and weapons enthusiast, and she was a competitive skeet shooter with both rifles and pistols. They didn’t have any children, but Kingsley had included a picture of a golden retriever named…King. Cute.
Next, she skimmed over the fact sheet about the sword. It had been logged into the vault in 1917 during the massive Norwegian emigration to America.
Kingsley had also listed the known stats and a description of the unique blade. She’d be looking for a thirty-six-inch-long sword with a bronze handle that included an inlaid ruby. According to legend, King Svafrlami had trapped dwarves in their mountain and forced them to craft him an enchanted blade.
Angered by his command, the dwarves had placed a curse on the blade that gleamed like fire. Inside the gem, the blood of the sword’s creator demanded sacrifice. Forever hungry for death and evil deeds.
Aura raised a brow, reading the last line again.
An evil, hungry sword. This was going to be…interesting. No wonder Bale had mentioned keeping it locked up.
She stared out the window, into the darkness.
1917. The sword had been placed in the vault before even Agent Bale had started at Department 13, and he’d lived more than one lifetime now. She couldn’t think of anyone else on staff who might remember the circumstances that had brought it to the United States.
She tucked everything back into the envelope and stuffed it into her leather attaché.
Danger came with the job. This time wouldn’t be any different, but she would be more confident if she were working with a trained professional she could count on from Department 13 instead of an immortal pirate who’d drunk from the Holy Grail over two hundred years ago.
A sexy pirate. She rolled her eyes, shoving the thought from her head.
If she got back from this mission in one piece, Bale owed her an all-expenses-paid vacation.