Merchants with Evil Intent (44 page)

      
“Maybe your gel will finish it for you.”

      
Maggie grinned, “I believe she will.”

      
“The expression on the whelp’s face is
priceless.”

      
“Leave the lad alone. He’s a good boy and
I don’t want you teasing him,” Maggie scolded.

      
Eoghan rolled his eyes. “You didna see
him acting an arse the past few years.”

      
“He’s better now, aye?”

      
He shrugged. “Methinks your gel has much
to do with his humors.”

      
Maggie smiled, gazing at her daughter
adoringly. “Oh Eoghan, I’m so glad she forgave her father.”

      
Eoghan stared at John and wrinkled his
nose. “Look at him, he’s puny; hardly strong eno’ to wield a sword, that one.”

      
“You don’t wear jealousy well,” she
grinned.

      
“Me?
Jealous of that?”
Eoghan scoffed.

*
     
*
     
*

      
Camryn’s eyebrows furrowed. “The statue
outside your pub is named Eoghan.”

      
“Aye,” Declan nodded. “It must’ve been a
common name in the middle ages.” He squeezed Camryn’s hand and gave her a quick
peck on the cheek. “I’ll be right back, love.”

      
John and Camryn shot each other puzzled
looks and shrugged as Declan ran upstairs.

*
     
*
     
*

      
“Eoghan!”
Declan
hissed loudly, pacing the room. His lips thinned in anger.

      
Eoghan appeared behind him. “What has
caused your foul temper now?”

      
Declan’s eyes narrowed. “How do you know
Maggie O’Mara?”

      
“What matter is it of yours?” Eoghan
sniffed as he settled down on the window seat.

      
“I need to know how you, Maggie and
Camryn are related.”

      
Eoghan sighed, “Maggie is me beloved
Failend.” Declan lifted a skeptical eyebrow. “She was reborn and wed the
lackwit downstairs and the marriage produced your Camryn.”

      
“John isn’t a lackwit,” Maggie scolded as
she appeared suddenly at his side.

      
Declan reached out to touch her arm and
was surprised his fingers didna go through her.

      
She laughed, “I’m not like Eoghan,
Declan. I’m an angel.”

      
Declan drew his hand away. “I doona
understand how any of this is possible.”

      
Maggie patted his arm. “I’m sorry about the
plane, love. I couldn’t very well tell you the truth about myself, could I?”

      
“I suppose not,” Declan replied tightly.

      
“Let me show you a few things, to help
you understand,” she offered.

      
His eyebrows pulled together when she
waved her hand in front of them.

      
The room darkened and turned into a large
cinema screen. He glanced at Eoghan. “’Tis aright, lad,” Eoghan replied.

      
Declan’s throat went dry as he watched
the images of Eoghan’s life as well as Maggie’s pass before him. He smiled when
images of Camryn came into view.

      
“Can you see the future as well?” he
asked Maggie.

      
She smiled wistfully. “I cannot.”

      
“So you don’t know if…” Declan couldn’t
form the words.

      
“No, I don’t know if Camryn will be
okay,” she replied softly.

      
Declan paced the room, cursing in Gaelic.
He stopped momentarily and shot her a hard look. “You know where Orlov is! Tell
me and I’ll go take care of the bloody bastard straightaway!”

      
She placed her hand on his arm. “I don’t
know where he is. It’s not in my realm to know of such things.”

      
“What bloody good is it to be an angel
then?” he hissed and turned away. “He has no plans to leave her alive; you do
know this, aye?”

      
She wrung her hands in front of her.
“He’ll not get that close to her.”

      
Declan whipped his head around and glared
at her. “How can you be so sure?”

      
“Because you love her and will protect
her,” she stated.

*
     
*
     
*

      
“I think I should stay in case the
plonker shows up,” Ian grumbled.

      
“That’s not an option. You’ll go and see
if he shows up at the ceilidh; in which case you apprehend him. Problem
solved,” replied Declan.

      
“Fine!”
Ian
hissed, slamming the back door.

      
Declan turned taking Camryn into his
arms.

      
“My dad looked spiffy tonight,” she
whispered in his ear.

      
“Aye, so did me ma. I think we need to
watch those two,” he laughed.

      
She pulled away from his embrace and
gazed at him. Something had been bothering him all afternoon and he wasn’t
hiding it very well.

      
“What’s going on?” she asked pointedly.

      
“I don’t know what you mean,” he
muttered, turning away from her.

      
“Don’t give me that. I may not know
everything about you, but I can tell when something’s bothering you.”

      
Her phone rang in her jeans pocket.

      
“Hello?”

      
“Camryn!
It’s so
great to hear your voice!” a male voice replied.

      
Her eyebrows furrowed. The man didn’t
sound like Viktor, but she turned the speakerphone on anyway. Declan inched
closer.

      
“Um, who is this?”

      
“Wow, I’m hurt you don’t remember my
voice. Has it been that long?” the voice pouted.

      
She laughed nervously.
“Clearly,
if I can’t place it.”

      
He laughed, “Still slingin’ the sarcasm!
I love it!”

      
Camryn’s eyes widened. “Dylan?”

*
     
*
     
*

      
Ian, Mickey, John and Siobhan rode to the
Wild Knight together. John lifted a curious eyebrow at the statue marked ‘Sir
Eoghan’ before entering. A slight shiver traveled through him.

      
The pub was in full swing when they
entered and Kelly had Declan’s table reserved for them.

      
Both John and Ian eyed everyone there,
but didn’t see Orlov.

      
Ian took John by the elbow and told him
he’d sit at the bar and watch the door in case Orlov slipped in later.

      
The pipers on the small stage broke out
into
Danny Boy
and John whispered
into Siobhan’s ear.

      
She smiled and took his hand as he led
her to the dance floor.

      
He shook his head. He was too damn old to
have butterflies in his stomach!

*
     
*
     
*

      
Camryn quickly turned off the
speakerphone and brought the phone to her ear, shrugging at Declan.

      
He, in turn, scowled.

      
“How did you get my number?” she asked
Dylan.

      
“I stopped by your parent’s house today.
Imagine my surprise to find out that you’re in Ireland!”

      
“Yeah, shocking, huh?” she grinned. She
walked into the den and sat by the fireplace, continuing her conversation.
Later, she heard Declan banging pots and pans around in the kitchen.

      
“Dyl, I gotta go. It was great talking to
you,” she murmured, walking into the kitchen. She stifled a laugh when she
noticed Declan’s hair sticking this way and that.

      
“Wait! Before you go, do you want to get
together when you come back? I’d love to see you,” Dylan asked.

      
“Sure, we can go have drinks,
legally
this time,” she giggled into the
phone. “Take care, Dyl.”

      
“What’s with the hair, Corrigan?” she
laughed, tucking her phone into her pocket.

      
“What’s with talking to your old love for
almost an hour?” he snapped.

      
She blinked. Had it been an hour?

      
“I see, nothing from you then?” he
replied, angrily.

      
She lifted a dismissive hand. “We were
just catching up.” She approached him, but he turned away.

      
“Come on,” she cooed, wrapping her arms around
his waist. “It’s nothing, just two old friends talking.” When he didn’t reply
she began to tickle him.

      
He turned and grabbed her by the wrists.
She was caught off guard by the intensity of his gaze.

      
“What’s wrong?” she asked softly.

      
He released her wrists and shrugged.
“What’s goin’ to happen to us, once you go back to the states?” She started to
speak but he held up a hand. “Let me finish. When we first met I was smitten
with you, but I didna ask for your number because I knew I’d be comin’ back
here.”

      
He paced the room, running his hands
through his hair.

      
A muscle quivered in his jaw. “But fate
brought you here. In the short time we’ve been together I fell in love with you
and now I can’t imagine my life without you.”

      
She stared blankly at him with her mouth
open. He couldn’t imagine his life without her, except when he said
without
it sounded like
withoot
.

      
Nellie broke the mood barking at the back
door. Declan tore his penetrating gaze from Camryn long enough to open the door
and let Nellie out.

      
“Have ya nothin’ to say then?”

      
A lump formed in her throat. “I didn’t
come here expecting to find you, although I hoped I would. I also didn’t expect
to have a crazy ex-boyfriend trailing me, either.” She bit her lower lip and
tucked her hair behind her ears.

      
She reached out to him, but he angrily
crossed his arms over his chest. “Dammit, Declan! What do you want me to say?
That I’ll chuck my life in Chicago and stay with you?”

      
He pulled her against him and struggled
for control, even though his heart felt like it was shattering into a million
pieces.

      
She wasna goin’ to
stay.

      
Outside, a spine-tingling howl sent
Declan running for the back door. Lightening flashed in the sky and the wind
began to pick up in intensity. “Nellie!” he yelled loudly.

      
Camryn ran to him and peered into the
darkness. “Was that her?”

      
“Aye, something’s wrong. Stay put,” he
ordered as he ran towards the strand.

      
Camryn watched Declan search for Nellie.
A clap of thunder caused her to nearly jump out of her skin. She hated
thunderstorms, especially ones at night.

      
The rain drove in at a hard slant making
it hard to see. Between the claps of thunder she heard Declan calling Nellie’s
name.

      
For several long minutes she didn’t hear
Declan’s voice. Panic churned in her stomach. What if Viktor was out there? She
trembled as fearful images crept into her mind.

      
Ignoring Declan’s order to stay put, she
ran out the door.

      
A loud, piercing scream escaped from her
lips when a cold, wet hand grabbed her arm.

*
     
*
     
*

      
“You’re a delightful dancer, John,”
Siobhan praised as they sat in the snug.

      
John blushed, “I stepped on your toes
twice, Siobhan.”

      
She laughed, “Only at first. You caught
on by the third dance.” Her aquamarine eyes danced with mischief, a trait that
both intrigued and frightened him.