14. Typhon

14

TYPHON

I had a problem. More than one, actually, but the biggest of them was the message I'd received from the don of the Sicilian Syndicate. The kill order he sent was for a high-ranking member of the Italian government. These types of asks were particularly difficult because we had to set everything up to fake the assassination. It also meant the target would have to go completely dark for the rest of their lives. The majority balked, saying they didn't fear whatever crime family wanted them dead.

If I accepted, I'd have to leave for Italy first thing in the morning, which meant abandoning Eliza. Something I was unwilling to do.

I'd turned down high-profile jobs like this one before, but the crime families knew me as a ruthless hired gun, which meant there were only so many I could decline.

Too much heat, lying low , I responded. Even the Sicilians wouldn't want me to take someone down if I was getting too much attention. Since I was undercover as an independent contractor—and one of the best assassins in the world—saying no wouldn't get me killed in the same way it would a made man.

Next up was a message I received from Oleander, asking when I'd be arriving.

Based on the briefs I'd gotten from Z, there was no progress in what they were now referring to as the AMPS investigation, since Mithras' death two months ago. There was a lead on another suspect, Pharaoh, but apparently, the woman had gone dark, which was to be expected. It all added up to an antsy O, which was never a good thing.

She'd requested a temporary leave from the unit in order to take on the advisory role in the coalition, something she'd resisted for several weeks. Was the meeting to ask to be reinstated for missions? I hoped so, for her sake more than our team's.

I walked over to the window and looked out at the moonlit water. It was close to zero two hundred, and I doubted sleep would come easily. Not with knowing Eliza was on the opposite side of the wall.

I lay down, closed my eyes anyway, and drifted off, picturing her beautiful smile.

When I woke, the sun was up and I could hear the faint sound of Eliza's voice. No doubt, she was speaking with Saint and he was displeased she hadn't gone to the cottage like he'd suggested.

She didn't seem the type to kowtow to her cousin, or anyone, for that matter. She may have resisted confronting him, given the circumstances, but now that his wife was expected to make a full recovery, I wondered how much more she'd tolerate.

After taking a shower, I sent her a good-morning message. Eliza immediately responded that she'd gone downstairs in search of a cup of tea.

I found her sitting in an oversized chair in the sunroom.

"I'd forgotten how beautiful Brighton is," she said, gazing out the window at the unusually cloud-free morning.

"It looks like a good day for a walk on the beach if you're up for it," I said, taking a sip of the tea I'd also fetched.

"I'd love it. The shore gives me so much inspiration."

I thought about my house in Portugal and how I wished I could whisk her away and spend endless hours there.

"Any further thoughts about your sculpture?"

She shook her head. "There's hardly been time."

I waited for her to say more, but when she didn't, I invited her to join me for breakfast.

"That would be lovely. I'm quite famished."

"As am I," I said, pulling out her chair. Given this was the off-season, I wasn't surprised we were the only guests in the dining room.

"Good morning, Mr. Marras," said Sophie, the woman who owned the inn.

" Mr. Marras ? Come now, Soph. We've been on a first-name basis for quite some time." I motioned to Eliza, who stood. "Eliza Fox, meet Sophie Everett."

While the two women got acquainted, I stepped away to check the message I'd just received. It was from Nemesis, demanding I check in immediately.

Earlier, I'd heard from Hornet, saying he didn't have anything new to report. Had something happened since then?

As I had no formal role with the coalition other than lending them the support of two Unit 23 team members, I wasn't compelled to respond. I couldn't imagine her sending a similar message to Z, and he and I were of equal rank.

Rather than answer her, I sent a message to Oleander.

Change of plans last night. Anything urgent?

Negative , she responded almost immediately. Delfino said you summoned me.

Checking in. Nothing more.

Copy that.

Anything of note happening in Shere?

Negative.

Given that, I'd definitely not reply to Nemesis.

I did send a message to Kima, though, apologizing for not showing up.

Unsurprisingly, I didn't wait up , she responded.

I chuckled, then returned to the dining room.

"Sophie said she made your favorite," said Eliza when I found her seated at the table. "Do you visit often?"

"My parents have a place not far from where we are. However, they're only here when the weather's warmer."

"How lovely. You don't stay with them?" she asked.

"It's quite charming but far better suited for grandchildren."

"Do they have many?"

"Only three. My older sister is the only one of us who's married and raising a family."

Eliza rested her elbow on the table and her chin in her hand. "Do you have other siblings?"

"Two brothers. Joshua lives in Malta, and Jacob lives in the States. Magdalene is the only one of us who resides in England full-time like my parents."

"Don't you?"

I leaned forward and brushed her hair from her face. "I have a residence in London, but it is not my primary home. That is in Portugal, and I'm there as often as my work allows, which is hardly as much as I'd like."

Her smile came through her eyes. "I love Portugal. Algarve in particular."

"What a coincidence. Let me guess. You visited Quinta Do Lago."

Her cheeks flushed. "Such a tourist, right?"

"My home is there. I dine in the resort's restaurants often."

"Are you telling Eliza about the Blackbird?" Sophie asked, setting two plates in front of each of us.

I shook my head. "I refer to it as Casa Melro."

"How intriguing," said Eliza, looking up at Sophie. "Have you visited?" Could it be she was jealous? I liked the idea she might be.

"No, not that I haven't hinted for an invitation every time I see him."

I rolled my eyes. "Sophie and her husband also own a restaurant in town. Even if I extended an invitation, neither would take the time off." I looked down at our breakfast. On one plate was salmon eggs Benedict, and on the other, pancakes with berries.

"Wait. Do you own Bill's?" Eliza asked. "I love that place. I thought the pancakes looked familiar. Have you eaten there?" she asked me.

"Many times."

"I'll let you two eat before it gets cold. Is there anything else I can bring you?"

"El?" I asked.

She shook her head and motioned to where she'd just taken a bite

"We're good, Sophie."

Eliza wiped her mouth. "You called me El last night."

"Does it bother you?"

Her head cocked as though she was thinking it over. "No. Actually, no one's ever used the nickname."

"If that's the case, let's think of it as a term of endearment instead."

"Like Levi?"

"Exactly."

We chatted about the time we'd each spent in Brighton. I learned El brought friends visiting from Edinburgh, which led to a conversation about her time at university.

I found it interesting she chose to attend school there as a means to put distance between her and her parents. I knew of her father. He held the foreign-secretary position but was otherwise unremarkable.

"What about you? Are you close to your parents?" she asked.

I sighed, rested against the chair, and rubbed my stomach. In the time El was talking, I'd finished my entire breakfast, while she'd eaten less than half of hers.

"To answer your question, I do not intentionally avoid seeing them, but I don't visit as often as they'd like."

She also asked about why my brother lived in Malta, and I explained that my mum was Maltese and that he ran a prison there.

"Ready for our walk?" I asked when she set her napkin down.

"We best. Breakfast was brilliant, but I am so full."

"We're heading out, Sophie," I said, peeking into the kitchen.

She waved and wished us a lovely day.

I hated to ask, but I also wanted to know how much time we'd have. "Any news from Niven?"

"Yes! I meant to tell you. Harper will be able to go home this afternoon."

"Already?"

"I was stunned. Apparently, the surgery was minor, and they only kept her given the lateness of the hour and to monitor the pregnancy."

"Do they need you?" I hated to ask, but I had to.

"They do not. In fact, Niven thinks I'm in London. While I didn't confirm it, I did let him assume I was. Am I terrible?"

I put my arm around her shoulders. "You're wonderful, El."

"I'll admit that's growing on me." Her smile when she said it, lit me up inside.

We walked hand in hand on the beach, both bundled up against the wind coming off the sea, and talked about our families. It was interesting to hear more about Niven, who increasingly felt like an entirely different person than Saint. He had his demons, as El said, but as she talked, I thought about Rile's words.

"The anger you hold inside is hurting you far more than it is him." I knew he was right. However, turning off the hatred I'd felt for the man for years was easier said than done.

"What's that?" El asked, pointing to a building that looked like it was once a garage or maybe a warehouse. There was a for-sale sign covering the previous signage.

I followed when she dropped my hand, and peeked in the windows like she was doing.

"Can I help you?" a man asked, approaching us.

"Is this your place?" Eliza asked.

"It was, lass. My wife said enough was enough a few months ago."

Something about the way he said it made me think there was a lot more to the story, and it probably didn't have a happy ending.

"Is that, by chance, a burnout kiln?"

"Aye, it is. Sculptor, are you?"

"A beginner, but I have some experience with the lost-wax process. Smaller pieces, but I've wanted to do more."

"More as in bigger?" the man asked.

She smiled. "Yes. Much bigger. What else have you got? I mean, are you selling the equipment along with the building?"

"I would do, for the right price."

"Do you mind if we go inside?" she asked me.

"Not at all. I'm fascinated."

"This your husband, lass?" said Mike.

Eliza laughed. "We actually met yesterday."

"You're pullin' my leg, now, aren't ya? Come on. How long have you been married?"

I put my arm around El's shoulders. "I've been trying to talk her into it. Maybe you could put in a good word for me if she buys your building."

The man studied me. There was something about his eyes that reminded me of someone, but I couldn't place who it might be.

"I'm Eliza Fox, by the way."

"You can call me Mike," the man told her.

She studied him. "You're Michael Beaumont."

He looked from her to me, then back again.

"I was. Now, I'm just Mike."

Eliza held out her hand, and the two shook. "It's an honor to meet you, sir," I heard her say quietly.

He motioned with his head at me. "That one trustworthy?"

"Very much so. Neither of us will say a word. Oh, Mike, this is Leviticus Marras."

"Marras, you say?"

"Yes, sir," I responded, also shaking his hand.

"Your father is Marcello."

"He is." I immediately realized why he looked vaguely familiar, at least his eyes. Before I was born, my father had commissioned a sculpture from Michael Beaumont that sat in the garden of their home in the Cotswolds. The reason he looked familiar was my dad had a book about his work.

"How are your parents?"

"Quite well, thank you."

He looked over at Eliza. "Ready for the tour?"

"Please." Her look of excited anticipation reminded me of a kid going on their first roller coaster.

As I followed along, Mike pointed out the ventilation system for not just one but two kilns. There were occasional words I understood mixed in with many I didn't, but watching El, they both could've been speaking a foreign language and I still would've been enraptured.

"Will you excuse us, Mr. Marras?" Mike asked about an hour into the tour.

"Of course, but please call me Levi." I winked at Eliza, and she winked back.