When she stomped off, Sean pulled the bottle closer and poured himself a shot. He swallowed half of it, welcoming the way it burned down his throat to his stomach. He took out his phone and checked the reception. Two bars. He pulled up his contact list, selected a name, and swiped the dial button. As he waited for the call to connect, he turned his back to the bar. He had a beautiful view of the ocean, and somewhere, just beyond the orange buoy, Jeanne’s body was anchored to the ocean bed.
“Son?”
His old man’s voice came so clearly across the line it was hard to believe they were thousands of miles apart.
It was just after nine in Scotland. “Are you awake?”
“I’m always awake,” Alan said. “How are things in Colombia?”
It sucked. “I’m doing a gig on an island.”
“Sounds glamorous. Anyone famous?”
“Juan Hernandez.”
There was a small pause. “I see. Cain has found you, hasn’t he?”
“Yes. I met Maya and Lann and Clelia, too.”
“How are they, in real life, I mean?”
“Impressive.”
“How’s Joss these days?”
“Scary motherfucker.”
“Did you see the babies?”
“I don’t think they came on holiday. Kat seems to be a fine lady. Clelia … well, I’m glad I’m not the man who has to look into those eyes. Joss seems to have his work cut out for him.”
“Tim? Is he pale and smooth with glowing eyes like in those movies?”
Sean chuckled. “You’re such a gossip, old man. No, he looks normal. He’s the one who found me.”
“Makes sense. He’s got powerful connections in government and access to confidential files.”
“Files that would’ve mentioned Mom?”
“Yeah.”
His mother had been an undercover geomancist who worked for the Scottish government. His dad was still close to the people she worked with, hence his connections and access to the information he could give Sean about Cain and his team. Sean never knew his mother. She died giving birth to him and his sister.
“How was she, my mother?” Sean asked.
There was a tender note to his father’s voice. “She was a fine agent.”
“I mean, how was she as a geomancist?”
A short, surprised silence followed. Sean hadn’t spoken about the art he’d inherited since the day Maddy had died.
“Imagine Madelein,” Alan said. “She was just like that.”
He shut his eyes at the painful image of his sister. “She had good control of the art.”
“Yes. You were always the runaway fire hose, squirting water in every direction except the right one. Why are you asking me this, Sean?”
“You know the vow I took when…”
“Yes?”
“I can’t access my gift any longer. It’s gone.”
“You tried?”
“I didn’t mean to. I’d never break that vow, but someone … a girl … was in trouble, and I…”
“You couldn’t get it up?”
He uttered a low laugh. It was just like his old man to find humor in a fucked-up situation. “You could say that.” He added quickly, “Metaphorically speaking.”
“I don’t know, Sean. I wish I could help you. Your mother would’ve been the one.”
“I’m not the only geomancist. There’s another one.”
“You want me to find him.”
“With your connections…”
“You think this will help?”
“If I can talk to someone who knows what the hell they’re doing…”
“Sean, finish your sentences, boy.”
He scoffed.
“I’ll see what I can do.”
“I’m not breaking my vow lightly.” He needed his dad to understand that. “If there was another way…”
“Sean, Maddy would’ve never expected you to make that vow. Neither did I. It wasn’t your fault.”
He shook his head to physically dispel the image of Maddy’s final moment bombarding his brain. His hand instinctively went to the center of his breastbone where the crystal used to hang.
“When are you coming to visit?” his father asked.
“Soon.” He hoped to hell he could keep the promise.
“See you soon, then.”
They said their goodbyes and hung up.
It was close to five. Not being able to see Asia ate like acid into his gut. He had to be patient and bide his time. Charging to the new unit where Juan had put her up would only risk her safety. He had to pull himself together and get what Cain wanted so he could ship her to safety. Fast.
With nothing else left to do, he went to the hut for a shower and a change of clothes. Too much had happened since that morning. The weariness cut straight to his bones.
The yacht waited in the small cove when Sean boarded with the rest of the staff. Caterers ran up and down, setting ceviche, cheese platters, and bite-sized confectionary on cocktail tables. Leona looked like a zombie. She buzzed around with less of her usual flair. He set up his bar on the lower deck at the back and watched from his vantage point as people came onboard. Impatiently, he scanned the crowd for dark blond curls.
Juan and Asia, followed by four bodyguards, were the last guests to step onto the deck. His gaze homed in on Asia’s hand where it rested on Juan’s arm. Anger came in shades. Red was uncontained fury. Black was cold and calculated. Black was the color that tainted his vision as they took their place among the partygoers.