Free To Take Up the Sword by Brynna Curry Page A
Authors: Brynna Curry
breath. The glass cover over the twenty-carat yellow diamond dissolved. An eye blink later, it was back in place, the exquisite stone in her palm, the fake under glass. “I wish you’d teach me to do that. I could make a ton as a locksmith.”
This elicited a rolling laugh from the man she’d known for years. Devin was a true friend, in spite of his larcenous traits. Sometimes it paid to know people.
“You know I can’t. You have a different kind of magic, the kind that requires no spell, just a fiercely protective heart. Fly or climb?”
“Fly.” Serena held tight to him as he stirred the air, lifting them through the ceiling to land safely three alleys away.
* * * *
Haleyville, Alabama
Two days later
Devin woke from the darkness of sleep to the sound of sirens ripping the night air and knew with a sickening certainty Serena Roarke was dead. He’d kept a mental thread tied to his friend since she’d gone undercover.
He snapped his fingers and was dressed completely. This time he threw caution to the wind. He followed the sirens in his mind and flashed to their destination. Cloaked in a shield spell, Devin remained in the shadows watching the cops pull Jack away from Serena’s lifeless body. He wanted to reach out to his friend, close her eyes, but was so lost in his grief he couldn’t. Serena was one of the few people he’d trusted with his secret. Not just his magic, but the whole of his existence, all one thousand years of it. She might have betrayed Jack and the FBI, but she’d kept his secret.
Back in his apartment, he picked up his cellphone and dialed the number Serena had given him. A code between friends, he accepted the task of notifying the man she loved of her death.
“Spiller.”
“Special Agent Gabriel Spiller?”
“Yes, who is this?” Devin heard the irritation in the other man’s voice.
“A friend of Serena.” He could tell when worry began to creep past temper, when panic began to take hold.
“What’s happened?”
“She’s dead.”
“No.” And there was the hitch of heartache, the silent scream of pain. “How?”
“Sniper’s gunshot wound to the chest. She’s lying in an alley behind a crack house in the south part of town, in her husband’s arms. She asked me to tell you she loved you. I’m sorry for any loss you feel.”
Devin quickly disconnected the call before Spiller could trace it. He would have vengeance for the loss of his friend, in his own time, his own way. Gueraldi would suffer.
Chapter 1
Birmingham, Alabama
A year and a half later
Gabe watched as Judge Leroy “Mad Dog” McCoy stared down a courtroom full of noisy lookie-loos and thugs. A few folks who needed to be there, and ten times that many looking to stir up trouble. Press from every major network throughout the US had flown in to get the story firsthand on one Ashton Smythe.
Smythe was once Niccolo Gueraldi’s right-hand man and his favored hired killer for knife work. Gabe was sure Judge McCoy knew it. The jury knew it, but the law demanded evidence to prove Smythe’s involvement. There was none, or at least not any longer since the diamonds that would have sealed his fate had never been recovered. The judge stared the defendant in the eye, knowingly. Worst of all, Gabe was sure Ashton Smythe knew he’d be acquitted. Legally, the court’s hands were tied. Sometimes he hated the law he fought so hard to uphold.
The courtroom fell silent as the judge slammed his gavel on the wood block for order. “Now, listen here. I’ll have order through these proceedings or the room will be cleared.” The judge turned toward the jury. “Mr. Foreman, how do you find the defendant?”
“We find him…”
He sat behind the prosecution and waited for the verdict to be handed down. Gueraldi had ordered Serena Roarke’s death and died for it, but Smythe had a hand in it just the same. He had to pay for that. Gabe held his breath and prayed a miracle would happen.
“Not
This elicited a rolling laugh from the man she’d known for years. Devin was a true friend, in spite of his larcenous traits. Sometimes it paid to know people.
“You know I can’t. You have a different kind of magic, the kind that requires no spell, just a fiercely protective heart. Fly or climb?”
“Fly.” Serena held tight to him as he stirred the air, lifting them through the ceiling to land safely three alleys away.
* * * *
Haleyville, Alabama
Two days later
Devin woke from the darkness of sleep to the sound of sirens ripping the night air and knew with a sickening certainty Serena Roarke was dead. He’d kept a mental thread tied to his friend since she’d gone undercover.
He snapped his fingers and was dressed completely. This time he threw caution to the wind. He followed the sirens in his mind and flashed to their destination. Cloaked in a shield spell, Devin remained in the shadows watching the cops pull Jack away from Serena’s lifeless body. He wanted to reach out to his friend, close her eyes, but was so lost in his grief he couldn’t. Serena was one of the few people he’d trusted with his secret. Not just his magic, but the whole of his existence, all one thousand years of it. She might have betrayed Jack and the FBI, but she’d kept his secret.
Back in his apartment, he picked up his cellphone and dialed the number Serena had given him. A code between friends, he accepted the task of notifying the man she loved of her death.
“Spiller.”
“Special Agent Gabriel Spiller?”
“Yes, who is this?” Devin heard the irritation in the other man’s voice.
“A friend of Serena.” He could tell when worry began to creep past temper, when panic began to take hold.
“What’s happened?”
“She’s dead.”
“No.” And there was the hitch of heartache, the silent scream of pain. “How?”
“Sniper’s gunshot wound to the chest. She’s lying in an alley behind a crack house in the south part of town, in her husband’s arms. She asked me to tell you she loved you. I’m sorry for any loss you feel.”
Devin quickly disconnected the call before Spiller could trace it. He would have vengeance for the loss of his friend, in his own time, his own way. Gueraldi would suffer.
Chapter 1
Birmingham, Alabama
A year and a half later
Gabe watched as Judge Leroy “Mad Dog” McCoy stared down a courtroom full of noisy lookie-loos and thugs. A few folks who needed to be there, and ten times that many looking to stir up trouble. Press from every major network throughout the US had flown in to get the story firsthand on one Ashton Smythe.
Smythe was once Niccolo Gueraldi’s right-hand man and his favored hired killer for knife work. Gabe was sure Judge McCoy knew it. The jury knew it, but the law demanded evidence to prove Smythe’s involvement. There was none, or at least not any longer since the diamonds that would have sealed his fate had never been recovered. The judge stared the defendant in the eye, knowingly. Worst of all, Gabe was sure Ashton Smythe knew he’d be acquitted. Legally, the court’s hands were tied. Sometimes he hated the law he fought so hard to uphold.
The courtroom fell silent as the judge slammed his gavel on the wood block for order. “Now, listen here. I’ll have order through these proceedings or the room will be cleared.” The judge turned toward the jury. “Mr. Foreman, how do you find the defendant?”
“We find him…”
He sat behind the prosecution and waited for the verdict to be handed down. Gueraldi had ordered Serena Roarke’s death and died for it, but Smythe had a hand in it just the same. He had to pay for that. Gabe held his breath and prayed a miracle would happen.
“Not