Spirited Legacy (Lost Library) (9 page)

A lengthy line through security and a quick board onto their plane later and Lizzie was wiped. She needed to learn to pace herself, but she wouldn’t have missed the visit with Sarah for anything. She felt a responsibility towards her that she couldn’t shake. Actually, that she didn’t want to shake. Sarah had fought for Lizzie, and now it was time they fought for Sarah. She yawned. But not right this very second, she thought as she closed her eyes and rested her head against the headrest. John had power napped through takeoff, woken up, and encouraged her to get some sleep for the remainder of the flight. She decided that was excellent advice.

She and John had been in the air for a few hours when she woke. He must have felt or heard the change in her breathing and guessed she was awake, because he spoke before she’d even opened her eyes.

“You’re awake?” John asked.

Her nodding head rubbed softly against the fabric of his shirt. She blinked half-awake eyes up at him and let out a grunt of disgust. He looked nothing like a man who’d been traveling for almost twenty-four hours. He had a little stubble, but otherwise he looked fresh as a daisy. She rubbed her nose against his shirt. And he smelled lovely. She gave a little growl of annoyance. She’d had a look in the bathroom mirror earlier, and she’d looked worn out, frumpy, and mussed. And that was two or three hours ago, before she’d had a nap.
Great.

“What?” he asked.

“You look annoyingly handsome and showered and not rumpled.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “And you smell wonderful,” she finished in an accusing tone.

He chuckled. “Thank you. And you look and smell as lovely as you always do.”

She had to laugh. Because he actually meant it, the poor confused man.

She excused herself to make one last quick run to the restroom. On the way back, the seat belt sign flashed on. They were almost to Prague. And that little light, accompanied by a crisp British voice announcing their impending arrival, brought a crushing rush of worry, almost panic. Her chest felt constricted, her clothes too tight, and the aisle incredibly small.

Prague, the city where she’d first met Worth, where she’d been held prisoner by him. Would being in the house so soon after her kidnapping be too difficult? And her new job. Was she qualified? Could she do the job? And the Library, with its floor to ceiling rows of magic books. Would she be able to wade through them and find anything to help Sarah?

Dang it.
Why couldn’t she catch her breath?

She stopped next to John’s aisle seat, her breath coming in short puffs, and waited for him to shift slightly so she could get around his bulky frame to her own seat. Looking down at him, the tightness in her chest suddenly eased. Her lungs filled, and she took a slow, easy breath. And that’s when she realized that the mere fact of his presence made all of those questions fade. No, that wasn’t quite right. The questions were still there in a big jumble in her brain, but the worry and panic those questions had caused, was fading.

She must have stood in the aisle too long, because he asked quietly, “Are you all right?”

“Yes.” Her voice was confident, because she was. She was just fine. Right now, in this moment, everything was okay.

Chapter 11

O
ne of Harrington’s men picked up John and Lizzie at the airport. They maintained a comfortable silence for most of the car ride. Then the buildings turned less industrial and more historic, signaling their impending arrival. Within a mile or two of the house, John could feel the tension in Lizzie building. He took her hand in his and raised it to his lips, giving her knuckles a quick kiss.

She blinked in confusion and then she laughed—at his intentionally, overtly gallant gesture or at herself for her intense reaction as the house loomed closer or both, he wasn’t sure—but the tension broke. She grinned up at him. Then she slipped her hand around so she was clasping his hand. He could still feel her nerves, smell her anxiety, and it tore at him.

He didn’t have the right words, so he chose not to say anything. Apparently, that was just fine with her, because she didn’t let go of his hand until they pulled up in front of the rich wine colored residence that housed the Library. As his eye followed the line of the house, higher than the neighboring row houses, he couldn’t help but think it looked like a dollhouse with its intricate trim.

“Lizzie. Good to see you again. Your trip went well, I trust.” Harrington smiled in greeting but didn’t offer to shake her hand.

Wise man. John wasn’t feeling particularly charitable toward the man who had yanked his mate to foreign soil and possibly closer to danger.

“Very, thank you. What floor are we on? Shocking, I know, but even with the negative memories, I liked the room I was in last time.” She grinned.

Bravado or the truth, either way, he wasn’t staying in the room she’d been held in less than a week previously. He gave Harrington a clearly warning look.

Looking unperturbed by John’s mild threat, Harrington responded. “I have you and Braxton, along with a few security staff on the second floor. Ah, third floor by American standards.”

“Fine,” John replied without inflection. Taking hold of Lizzie’s elbow, he steered her toward the stairs when she might have stayed another moment to chat.

Lizzie looked over her shoulder, “Which room?”

“The Rose Room, to the right of the stairs.” He smiled politely. “Braxton.”

When John turned around, Harrington handed him a key.

“The guest and staff rooms are on floors two, three, and four. The basement, ground, and first floors are all public or for staff use and have varying levels of security. You’re cleared for all areas.” Harrington spoke to John’s back, but Lizzie had stopped to listen attentively.

“Thanks. Oh—what about meals?” Lizzie asked.

“Dining is on the ground floor. There’s information in your room with the times and menu for the week,” Harrington replied.

With a quick nod of acknowledgment, Lizzie headed up the stairs.

“Braxton. When you get a moment, I’d like to speak with you.”

John nodded, but he didn’t stop his progress up the stairs.

After reaching their room, conveniently marked with a plaque stating “Rose Room,” John waited long enough to see that Lizzie was comfortable and that their bags arrived. When the man delivering their bags had gone, Lizzie practically pushed him out of the room.

“We just got here,” he said.

“Um-hm. And that’s why you’re dragging your feet? I think it’s interesting he wants to see you right away even though I’m the employee.”

“Ah. Technically, I’m contract labor.” At her skeptical look, he replied, “I don’t seem a good investment as a security consultant?”

She smothered a laugh. “Whatever got you in the door, you’re the one he wants to talk to. Get your butt down there so you can come back and give me the scoop.” And she smacked him on the ass on his way out the door.

That tap on his ass made him pause and consider spending the next hour in a much more enjoyable pursuit than maneuvering and posturing with Harrington. As he wavered on the threshold, her next words pushed him out the door at a good clip. In a quiet and much more serious voice, she said, “He might have an update on Worth.”

He tracked Harrington down in his office, a smallish room located on the ground floor, near the back of the townhome. He’d thought the house was six or seven thousand square feet, but every time he turned around he discovered another small room or a corridor he hadn’t known about. It must be at least three times that size. The windows of the office looked out onto a small courtyard.

Harrington sat behind a simple, elegant desk with few frills. He’d closed his laptop when John entered the room, but hadn’t stood.

“The surrounding townhomes?” John asked as he looked out over the small, manicured space. There were walls separating the courtyards of each townhome.

After a brief pause, Harrington responded. “Anything attached or in the row has been purchased. We’re working on some of the closer homes, as well.”

Finally standing, Harrington walked over to the small cart and picked up a carafe of coffee, raising it slightly in question.

“Yes, thanks. Black,” John said. Abandoning the view for a loveseat with a small table, John sat down, leaned forward, and rested his forearms on his thighs. “So—Worth? Any news?”

Harrington walked over with a mug. Accepting it, John waited patiently while Harrington fixed a cup of tea for himself. This wouldn’t be good news.

As soon as he was seated, Harrington said, “Worth’s location is unknown. We suspect he’s still recovering from injuries, but our healers aren’t certain. Our healers are baffled by both the coma-like state Sarah is in and the condition of his dead associate’s corpse. Correspondingly, they don’t have any knowledge of how Worth’s condition would be impacted by the stolen magic. One presumes improved, otherwise why do it?”

“And the residences IPPC discovered during Lizzie’s kidnap investigation?” John asked.

Harrington grimaced. “Liquidated. In the last week, he’s sold most of the properties. Each was sold for cash well below market value.”

“How is that even possible in such a short time?” John shook his head. “Never mind. With enough money and preparation—I get it. So he’s flush with cash and found a new place, below the radar, to recover.”

“Likely,” Harrington agreed with a slow dip of the chin and a pensive expression. “We’ll keep our eyes and ears open, but at this point we’re waiting for him to appear on the grid. A financial transaction we can trace, a public sighting, even a similar medical case or missing person filed in the magic-using community. If he continues to siphon magic from others, there will be victims.”

“How important to Worth does IPPC think the Library is?” His voice was neutral, but his thoughts were on Lizzie now sharing the same building as the Library.

Had she walked back into Worth’s sights by accepting this job? And if she had, the man in front of him would regret offering her this position, temporary though it might be.

“It’s likely Worth cleared out the important texts as soon as he discovered them. We’ve found some interesting works and the collection has immense value, but there haven’t been any particular books or section of books that stand apart. None that address Sarah’s condition, for example. Or how Worth may have caused it. So either he removed valuable texts as they were uncovered, or we haven’t gotten to them yet.”

Harrington seemed thoroughly unconcerned with the threat to Lizzie. Because he perceived none, or because he didn’t care? As helpful as Harrington had been in the past, his motivations—beyond furthering the scope and effectiveness of IPPC—had always been murky.

“You’re still reviewing the contents of the collection?”

Harrington nodded. “Hmm. We have some of Worth’s notes, though there’s no way to tell how complete they are. And Heike Schlegel. She was one of the women working here. The first, actually.”

“You’re kidding. Wasn’t she a part of Worth’s gang?” Lizzie would not be happy.

“If by gang, you mean employee—then, yes. She was under contract with Worth to do some translation. She may have been willfully blind regarding Worth, but she didn’t know that Pilar and Lizzie were being held against their will.”

“No one can be that blind. She must have known—” John stopped. Known what? That her boss was ambitious, immoral, maybe a criminal? In fairness, he wasn’t sure that would stop a good number of Lycan that he knew and respected from taking on a job. “Didn’t she have some idea he was harming other magic-users?”

Harrington’s brow lifted in question. “How? The kidnapping was the only questionable act she may have had knowledge of. The Library? Perhaps morally questionable to keep the contents from the magic-using community but, technically, his property. He purchased the house with all its remaining contents intact.” He allowed a small, wry smile to escape. “I suspect the former owners were aware of the garden furniture and window coverings but perhaps not the collection of magic books. Regardless, contents were included with the sale.”

“She shared a house with two kidnapped women. Even if her only offense was stupidity, she’s certainly a potential security risk.” John didn’t want this woman watching Lizzie’s back. Hell, preferably nowhere near her back.

“IPPC and the Library’s temporary security both cleared her. And—” Harrington paused significantly. “I’m vouching for her.” Harrington’s tone made it clear he believed that sufficient to allay John’s concerns.

And that was simply not the case. He’d keep an eye on this Heike woman.

“Tell me about your temporary security.” John cocked his head and narrowed his eyes. He couldn’t quite pinpoint the source of the oddness, but the few members of the team he’d met thus far shared certain unique undertones to their scent. A scent that was unique enough he’d been unable to link it with anything else in his experience. So whatever they were, he hadn’t encountered it before.

“The men are…unique, but very effective. The CEO is a personal friend. Given that the need was urgent and IPPC resources are currently stretched thin, he was happy to lend a hand. He and his Clan will stay until we have a secure system in place.”

“Clan?” Interesting word choice, John thought.

“Clan, crew. The men assuming security staff roles until we hire permanent staff.” Harrington waved away John’s question. “I’ll introduce you to Lachlan McClellan, the firm’s CEO, at dinner this evening.”

“And Heike? She’ll be at dinner?” At Harrington’s nod, John replied, “Have you told Lizzie that Heike’s on staff?”

When Harrington just lifted an eyebrow, John sighed

Chapter 12

A
fter freshening up, Lizzie and John had both gone down to the basement Library. Where they were currently, as she contemplated John’s news bomb.

Heike. On staff at the Library. Lizzie wasn’t sure how she felt about that. Why couldn’t Harrington have hired Pilar? Lizzie would trust Pilar with her life. In fact, she already had. It was in large part due to Pilar’s tutoring that Lizzie had managed to emerge unscathed from a magical battle against Worth. Well, maybe not a battle. But she did walk away whole. She wasn’t as certain Worth could say the same.