AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Niall’s mouth twisted bitterly. “Aye.” He looked down at Grace’s bare thigh, at his rough hands on the silkiness of her flesh. He smoothed her skirts down, his fingers gentle. “Ye’ll be all right, lass. Can ye stand?”
“I think so,” she said shakily. Her leg throbbed like blue blazes now, but she had seen for herself that the wound wasn’t deep. Niall helped her to her feet, holding her until her balance steadied.
He looked around, lifting his head into the breeze. His gaze lit on the two cars, English rental cars parked near where the stables had once stood. “Automobiles,” he said on a note of wonder. “Before, I didna see anything, just that damnable dark little dungeon, and the madman.”
“Bunker,” Conrad said.
Niall shrugged his indifference at the terminology. “I think there must be many wonders now to see,” he said absently. “But many evils, too.”
“Yes.” Conrad’s eyes locked on Niall, and for once they weren’t cold. Grace couldn’t read his expression, but suddenly she knew that Conrad would give his life unhesitatingly for Niall, and in that moment she forgave him for everything.
Niall tilted his head down, his face calm as he studied Grace. “I must go,” he said.
“Go?” She realized even as she said the word how stupid she sounded. Of course he had to go; he was the Guardian.
“I couldna stay here, even if I wished.” He cupped her face in his hands, his fingers tenderly tracing her cheekbones, her lips. “My duty is there.” He bent and kissed her, his lips soft, barely touching hers. Then he released her and strode away from them, and she heard him repeat the words about water and salt. She took a step forward, trying to scream his name, but panic closed her throat. The flash of light blinded her, and when she could see again, Niall was gone.
“Niall!” Too late, she had voice. She stumbled toward the spot where he had stood, a great fear welling inside her, a fear that had no name.
Conrad caught her arm. “He is gone. He is the Guardian.” To him, that explained everything.
“He’s a man!” Grace whirled on him, her eyes wild. “He’s just like every other man!” She felt hysteria building in her, a sense of loss so sharp it was staggering. “He eats and sleeps and breathes and bleeds, he doesn’t have supernatural powers or anything like that—”
“No,” Conrad said, turning her away from the ruins. “But God does.” He began to lead her toward one of the rental cars. “The Guardian has his work there—and we have ours here.”
She stumbled, her leg crumpling under her again, and without a word Conrad lifted her in his powerful arms and carried her to the car. She sat numbly as he drove them away from the scene, but inside she was coming apart, because Niall was gone.
“That man gives me the willies,” Harmony muttered, watching Conrad as he sat beside Kris, the two of them patiently pulling up Foundation files and destroying them. It was night, the building deserted except for the four of them. Conrad and Kris could have done the work on their own, but Grace had to be there, her nerves not letting her be anywhere else. Harmony had come along because she was worried about Grace, who looked as if she would shatter at the slightest touch.
“He’s strange,” Grace conceded. She had spent a little more than a month in Conrad’s company, and she still knew little more about him than she had the day Parrish had died. He didn’t talk about himself. She knew he was ruthless, that some might call him a stone killer and perhaps be right.
He had been invaluable, making arrangements, contacting Harmony to more thoroughly tend the wound on Grace’s leg, doing away with Paglione’s body. Parrish’s body he left to be found, the victim of a freak lightning strike. Grace had moved like a marionette to his orders, so numb she wondered if she would ever feel alive again. Niall was gone. She woke in the night weeping, reaching out for him. She had spent so little time with him, and yet she felt as if he were imprinted on every cell of her body.
“There!” Kris announced in triumph, his hacker’s blood excited by wh
at he had been doing. “We can’t kill the Foundation, but it’s going to be in the dark for a while. All their records are gone.”
Conrad nodded, and for a moment there was a gleam in his dead eyes. “Good,” he said, the word filled with satisfaction.
They hadn’t told Kris anything more about the situation, except that Parrish was dead, but what he knew was enough to make him willing to help out. Harmony, who still hadn’t recovered from the shock of watching Grace vanish in an explosion of light the month before, was even more protective than normal.
Conrad stood, looking at the blank computer screen. “Are you certain an expert can’t retrieve the files from the hard disk?”
“I’m positive. Trust me. The hard disk is wiped clean. If you’re sure no floppies exist anywhere, or a hard copy, then there’s no way all that information can be compiled again.”
Conrad grunted. The possibility of a floppy disk floating around out there worried him. He had personally searched Parrish’s house and found nothing, but such a valuable disk, if it existed, would likely be in a bank vault somewhere.
Grace had burned the papers she had worked on for so long, and ached as the flames destroyed her link to Niall. She would never again read about him, marvel at his exploits. The written accounts paled in comparison to the real man, anyway. But she didn’t want anyone else to find those papers, and use them to threaten the Treasure Niall had dedicated his life to protecting.
The four of them left together but separated when they reached the street. No one talked much; there wasn’t much left to say. Kris departed in his Chevelle. Conrad gave Grace an oddly old-fashioned bow, and walked off down the street. Harmony and Grace slowly walked to Grace’s truck.
“What now?” Harmony asked. “No more running, no more bad guys chasing you and trying to kill you. Well, the cops are still after you, but from what I see they can’t find their ass with both hands and a flashlight, so I guess you’re safe enough. I’d live somewhere else, though. Take up some boring stuff, like skydiving.”
Grace managed a ghost of a smile. “I don’t have any plans after tomorrow,” she said.
“So what’s on for tomorrow?”
“I’m going to my husband’s grave.”
