Greene's Calling: Seventeen Book Three (A Supernatural Action Adventure Thriller Series 3) (42 page)

Over the next day, the FBI and the CIA also apprehended the assassins Ariana had dispatched to kill the families of the three scientists Conrad and his team had rescued from Morocco.

The governments of the world were still rounding up members of Ariana Rajkovic’s thousands-strong army of descendants, followers, mercenaries, and drug lords scattered to the four winds.

‘What will happen to her?’ Connelly finally asked.

Conrad observed the Director of National Intelligence for a moment. ‘She will be tried and likely executed,’ he said quietly.

Some color drained from Connelly’s face at his words. ‘How many times?’

‘However many it takes,’ said Conrad.

Awkward silence fell between them. It was broken by raised voices outside the door.

‘Seriously, you guys need to take a chill pill!’ someone roared. ‘I’m his best friend. Now, let me in!’

‘Excuse me,’ Conrad told Connelly. He rose from the bed, crossed the floor, and opened the door. ‘Get in here,’ he told the man framed by the two agents.

Anatole’s eyes widened. He barged inside the room and engulfed Conrad in a fierce hug. ‘You bastard!’ he said, his voice husky with emotion. Elated laughter shook his chest. ‘I
knew
you’d make it!’

Victor Dvorsky appeared in the doorway. The agents glanced at Connelly. She sighed and inclined her head. The Bastian leader walked in and studied Conrad for silent seconds. ‘You look good,’ he said.

Conrad smiled. From Victor, this was the equivalent of a welcome parade.

Laura Hartwell wiped her brow with the back of her hand and blinked at the dazzling midday sun. She took a sip of the bottled water on the worktable, grabbed another handful of nails, and raised the mallet. The sound of steady hammering echoed around the clearing once more, breaking the jabber from the squirrel monkeys in the trees around the swamp.

Floorboards rattled under Laura’s boots. She paused in the middle of striking a nail, turned her head, and eyed the dog loping toward her. Rocky slid to a stop on the porch, claws digging into the wood. He dropped a stick at her feet and sat down heavily, his loud pants warming the skin on her legs. He watched her with an expectant expression.

Laura resisted the lure of the shiny, brown eyes. ‘Look, pooch,’ she said in a no-nonsense voice, ‘until you master the ability to hold a hammer, I suggest you let me carry on with the construction work.’

Rocky whined and nudged her leg with his head. Laura sighed. She was as much putty in the dog’s paws as she suspected Conrad had been.

She picked up the stick, strode to the edge of the porch, and pitched it toward the trees. Rocky bolted across the clearing and disappeared under the canopy, his tail rotating fast enough to achieve vertical lift-off. The immortal grinned and returned to the task of rebuilding the house that had been destroyed by the plane crash more than a month ago.

When she first arrived in Alvarães, nine days after the events in the Sargasso Sea, Laura had been surprised to discover that the burnt ruins of Conrad’s home had been cleared from the land. It was Matheus Diaz, the police officer who took her out to the site, who explained how he and Roxanne, Conrad’s closest neighbor and friend, had taken care of removing the remains of the plane’s wreckage and the damaged cabin. They were both convinced that the man who had lived there would return one day.

Laura had Diaz introduce her to the old lady later that very evening. Roxanne had studied her above the drifting wisps of smoke from her mapacho cigarette for a long time, before telling her she should take Rocky into her care. Laura still visited the old woman most days and listened to her tales about the one she loved to call
Deus
Demônio.
Diaz sometimes joined them.

They were all pleased with how Rocky had progressed since Laura’s arrival. When she first met the dog, he had been solemn and withdrawn. Although he seemed to recognize Conrad’s scent on her, his eyes were dull and his tail drooped constantly. Roxanne explained that he had barely eaten in a week.

As the days passed, the dog gradually came out of his shell. Then, about a fortnight ago, his whole demeanor changed. Laura awoke to his excited yips early one morning. She crawled out of her tent to find him jumping and barking at the sky, tremors of excitement rippling through his body. She sat on the ground and cried then, the flame of hope that had lived inside her in the dark days following the helicopter crash blazing into life and filling her soul.

The dog’s behavior could only mean one thing. Conrad Greene was alive.

With the help of Diaz and Roxanne, Laura doubled her efforts to erect a new house for the man she loved while she waited for his return.

The chatter from the monkeys grew louder. Branches swayed in the canopy as they disappeared into the shadows of the forest. Laura stopped, hammer in hand. She turned to study the clearing and spotted the cause of the monkeys’ agitation further up the swamp. A black jaguar was curled up on the roots of a kapok tree, golden eyes fixed unblinkingly on the immortal.

‘Hey girl,’ Laura called out softly.

The creature acknowledged her greeting with a lazy blink.

Laura lifted a plank of wood from the pile on the ground and heaved it between two posts. She had just finished securing it to the pillars when Rocky’s animated barks suddenly rose in the distance. She frowned and put the hammer on the table before walking to the edge of the porch, one hand raised above her eyes to block out the glare of the sun.

She wasn’t expecting a delivery of hardware for another week. Her gaze shifted briefly to the swamp. Diaz or one of his men would normally come from Alvarães by boat anyway.

Rocky’s barks were coming from the opposite direction to the water.

Laura’s heart started to thud erratically in her breast when she registered the sheer joy in the dog’s voice. She stepped to the ground, her mouth suddenly dry and her legs shaking. Shadows shifted under the trees to the east.

A man walked out of the jungle, a backpack strapped to his shoulders. Rocky leapt excitedly around the tall, thin figure, his head occasionally bumping the man’s legs while his tail moved in an invisible blur.

Conrad Greene stopped on the edge of the clearing and scratched the dog behind the ears. He straightened and looked at Laura across the lush expanse of vegetation. His eyes were unreadable from the distance.

‘You building a mansion?’ he asked lightly.

Laura glanced over her shoulder at the large footprint of the new house, sweat dampening her palms.

‘I thought we could do with something bigger,’ she said, barely masking the tremor in her voice. ‘Besides, we need space for the hot tub.’

Conrad raised an eyebrow. ‘It’s gonna have a hot tub?’

‘Yep. And we need the extra rooms.’

‘We do?’ he said, puzzled.

‘Uh-huh,’ said Laura. ‘For the babies.’

Conrad paled. ‘We’re having babies?’ he asked hoarsely.

Laura stuck her hands on her hips and glared at him, her eyes misting up. ‘Well, if you get your ass over here and kiss me, we could start on it straightaway!’

‘Yes, ma’am,’ said Conrad, a slow grin splitting his face.

They met halfway across the clearing.

Laura leapt into Conrad’s arms and wrapped her legs around his waist. He grunted, his breath choking with laughter as he fell back. They landed heavily on the ground. Rocky ran circles around them, delighted yips leaving his throat while he drowned them in licks.

Laura’s tears spilled over and fell on Conrad’s face as they kissed each other fervently. She ran her hands hungrily over his body, relishing the heat of his skin. Her fingers stilled when she registered his thin ribs and arms. A low sob escaped her lips.

Conrad cradled her head against his neck.

‘It’s okay,’ he whispered brokenly in her ear. ‘I’m not going anywhere.’ He raised her face in his hands and pressed his mouth to her brow reverently, blinking back tears. ‘I’m all yours.’

Laura read the undying promise in his blazing eyes and smiled.

Epilogue

January 2012. Boston. Massachusetts.

T
hey parked the rental a couple of blocks down from the address they had been given and walked the rest of the way. Five minutes after they left the car, they were standing in front of a nondescript apartment building.

‘Is this the place?’ said Laura.

‘Uh-huh.’ Conrad glanced at the piece of paper in his hand.

In contrast to its exterior, the building’s lobby was warm and classy, with pale marble walls and golden lighting. They took an elevator to the tenth floor.

The lift doors opened on a silent corridor. They headed along the carpeted floor and stopped in front of an apartment in the middle of the passage. No sound escaped from the other side of the black door. Conrad pressed the buzzer on the call box next to it.

‘Yes?’ answered a male voice he didn’t recognize. Low murmurs were audible in the background. A dog barked.

‘It’s Greene and Hartwell,’ said Conrad. ‘I believe you’re expecting us.’

‘Hang on,’ said the man.

Locks soon turned on the inside of the door. It opened to reveal Victor Dvorsky.

A golden retriever stuck his head around the Bastian noble’s legs and looked at them curiously, bushy tail thumping the wall. He huffed a welcome and padded back inside the apartment.

‘New place?’ said Conrad with an arched eyebrow.

‘You got a dog?’ Laura asked, deadpan.

‘Very funny,’ Victor muttered at their expressions. ‘Come on in.’

Conrad and Laura exchanged curious glances before walking through the entrance.

Victor had called them ten days ago, when they were visiting Horatio and Anatole in Rio for the New Year celebrations. The Bastian leader explained he had some vital information to impart to Conrad that couldn’t be relayed over the phone. He had insisted they travel to Boston to meet with him at their earliest convenience. Conrad and Laura had taken the red-eye flight to Massachusetts via New York the previous day.

Victor closed the door and led them down an elegant hallway that opened onto a sizable living room. A fire burned in a large hearth to the right. The flames reflected off the thick, polished, walnut mantelpiece and the painting of Monet’s 1906 “Water Lilies” above it. The decor was pleasant and sophisticated.

Two women sat on a couch to the left. They each cradled a baby in their arms and spoke in soft voices, their faces relaxed in easy smiles. The dog lay quietly at their feet, a silver tabby perched on his back in a Sphinx-like pose. The cat turned its head and watched Conrad and Laura unblinkingly.

A thickset figure stood by the large bay window ahead, a cell phone cradled to his ear. A jolt of surprise darted through Conrad when he recognized Dimitri Reznak, the Crovir noble.

Footsteps rose on the right. A man strolled out of a corridor, a feeding bowl in each hand.

‘Grub’s up, kids,’ he said in a business-like tone. The babies looked around at his voice and let out high-pitched squeals.

Conrad froze. Laura inhaled sharply.

Lucas Soul stopped and looked at them. ‘Hey,’ he murmured, blue eyes glinting with an unreadable expression.

Conrad stared at the immortal who had once been the most wanted and feared man in all of Bastian and Crovir societies. His gaze shifted to Victor Dvorsky.

‘What is this?’ he said in a low voice. He stepped in front of Laura, aware of the weight of his staff in the small of his back.

Dimitri Reznak ended his phone call and turned to face them, his eyes hooded.

‘It’s okay,’ said one of the women on the couch. She waited until Soul put the dishes down on the coffee table and handed him the baby. Chestnut curls danced around her striking face and olive-green eyes as she rose to her feet and crossed the floor toward them. ‘We mean you no harm.’

Lucas Soul gently cradled the child in his arms. The boy giggled.

‘Sit,’ Victor ordered. He indicated a pair of leather armchairs.

Conrad hesitated and looked at Laura. She bit her lip and inclined her head. They walked over and sat down carefully. The woman with the green eyes smiled and returned to her seat. She kissed Soul and took the child off him. Silence descended on the room.

Conrad became aware of a laser-like stare from the second woman on the couch. She was even more stunning than her companion, with short, onyx-black hair and silver eyes. Though she was spoon-feeding the gurgling baby girl in her arms while making encouraging coos, he could not help but feel that she had just picked out ten ways in which to kill him. A diamond engagement ring glinted on her left hand.

Conrad looked at Victor. ‘Okay, I’m sitting,’ he said gruffly. ‘What the hell’s going on?’

The woman with the deadly aura narrowed her pale eyes. ‘We do not say bad words in front of the b-a-b-i-e-s,’ she admonished.

Conrad cocked an eyebrow. ‘They’re like what, six mon—?’ he started to say in a sarcastic voice.

On cue, the baby boy said, ‘Hel!’

‘Oh crap,’ muttered the silver-eyed woman.

The child in her arms came out with an enthusiastic, ‘Cap!’ and sprayed mashed carrot and potato across her expensive leather jacket. Lucas Soul sighed.

A dry smile curved the lips of the woman with the green eyes. ‘Well, at least we’re raising them on the island,’ she told Soul. ‘They won’t get kicked out of nursery for using offensive language.’

Conrad stared.

‘Lucas Soul and Dimitri you already know,’ Victor stated crisply. ‘This is Anna Soul, Lucas’s wife, and their children, Tomas and Lily.’ He indicated the woman with the green eyes and the babies. ‘And this is Alexa King, Dimitri’s goddaughter.’ He paused. ‘They know who the two of you are.’

Conrad studied the woman with the silver eyes guardedly. He had heard King’s name before. The Crovir agent had a fearsome reputation, even among Bastian Hunters.

‘Why did you never tell me you were a pureblood?’ Victor asked him brusquely.

Conrad startled, surprised at the question. ‘It never came up,’ he muttered after several seconds. ‘Besides, stuff like that doesn’t matter to me.’

‘It should!’ snapped Victor. ‘If I had known that fact and made the connection with your immortal abilities, we could have had this meeting last year. Christ, I would have dragged your stubborn ass out of that goddamned swamp myself!’