Bay of Sighs (The Guardians Trilogy 2)

“Which one?” Riley wondered.

“Both, now that you mention it, but I’m thinking Claude first, a personal favorite.” Sasha sampled the margarita, found it perfect. “So a little trip to

Giverny.”

“I could do that.” Sawyer helped himself to salsa.

“Yes, you could. And in a couple weeks, when the moon’s full, Riley goes wolf.”

Sawyer threw back his head and did a very effective imitation of a wolf howl.

“And me?” Sasha gestured with her drink. “I never know when I might be having a conversation and start prophesying.” She drank, sighed. “And after a few short weeks? It all seems absolutely normal.”

“Because it is, for us.” Riley lifted her glass in turn. “So, here’s to us—and fuck the rest.”

As they clinked glasses, Annika rose up, rested her arms on the skirt of the pool. “Is it margarita time?”

“Come and get ’em.” Riley poured another glass.

When Doyle came out, a second cold beer in his hand, he saw Annika and Riley in the pool. Dr. Gwin might not be a mermaid, he thought, but the woman swam like a fish. Sasha stood at the side of the house, with easel and canvas, brushes and paint, and faced the sea.

Under the pergola, Sawyer and Bran had their heads together. He walked to them. Though he’d skipped the margaritas, he was a fan of Sawyer’s salsa.

“What’s the plan?”

“We were just kicking that around,” Sawyer told him.

“We’re covered, as much as we can be, while we’re here.” Bran looked over at Sasha, the arch of her back, the vulnerable nape of her neck as she’d bundled her hair up under her hat. Then up into the hills. “But Annika tells us you’re still worried.”

“Doesn’t take much of a gap, does it? A bullet doesn’t need much room.”

“Happy thought,” Sawyer muttered.

“We’ve laid traps, and I’ve added protection, but Doyle has the right of it. Some of it rests on Sasha. In Corfu, she knew when Nerezza would strike, so again, we were prepared. Added to that, we have the practicality of Riley’s network of contacts. We should know when this Malmon sets out for Capri. Once he has, the fight for us is against two fronts. Men, and minions.

“We’re stronger than we were.” Again, he looked at Sasha. “And more united. It will matter. I believe it will weigh on our side. Then there’s a matter of the search.”

“No more clues from that quarter?” Doyle wagged a thumb toward Sasha.

“Not as yet. It’s a great deal of pressure on her, so I’m asking if I’m not with her, someone else is. Always. She handles the visions well now, but the more open she is, the more Nerezza pushes to get in.”

“We’ve got her back.” Sawyer glanced toward the pool. “Once it starts, nobody should split off alone, but we’ll keep Sasha close.”

“Then we move on, do the work, which puts us out on the water. And in it.”

“Strategically, any serious attack should wait until we find the star. If having it were my goal,” Doyle continued, “I’d lie back, let the targets do the work, then go in, take them out, claim the prize.”

“But,” Bran said, and waited.

“It’s not altogether about logic, is it, but about greed with some madness thrown in. Sasha prophesied Malmon wasn’t what he was or would be. We have to assume, considering her visions, he’s made a contract with Nerezza. We can’t know what he is, what power she might have given him in exchange. Or how hell-bent he’ll be on getting to us, as he knows what each of us has or is.”

“Hell-bent as fire and brimstone,” Sawyer said. “Trust me.”

“That being the case, the odds favor he’ll come at us, at least a testing run, an attempt to deplete our numbers, or take one or more of us captive. Or he may go full out, believing we have information here he could use to find the star himself.”

“He’s a confident son of a bitch. I lean toward the full out. Not to kill, or not to kill certain ones of us. He’d rather capture, but he’d enjoy bloodying the ground while he’s at it.”

“Or the water,” Bran put in. “Which is where our search will focus.”