Page 21 of The Phoenix (Spy Girl 6)
“I want to see it,” he says.
“We have bigger things to worry about. And this is important. You absolutely cannot breathe a word of this to anyone. No one must know yet.”
“Well, someone must already know in order to have put it in the game. And you said you played it with Daniel. Does that mean he knows, too? Does everyone know but me?”
“Daniel was disappointed in what the key did in the game. He had no idea it was real. But you are right; there is someone who does know—Black X.”
“But you don’t know who that is or if you can trust them.”
“I want to tell you the truth about that. But it’s big. And it’s something else that you mustn’t tell anyone.”
“I will take it to the grave,” he says seriously.
“I hope that won’t be necessary,” I reply. “The dog Chauncey had was mine, given to me by my uncle Sam and lost in the car bomb that I thought had killed my father.”
“Thought?”
“Yes. It turns out that Blake Cassleberry is alive. He was badly injured in the blast, has only recently recovered, and has the scars to prove it. In Iraq, I killed all the mercenaries but one. That man snuck up on me when I was shooting the two men who were going to kill Peter and Viktor. When the man threatened me, a dot appeared on his head, much like the one that caused me to push you into the sea when you were being shot at. I assumed the sniper was part of the team and had over-aimed when targeting me, so I instantly fell flat to the ground. The sniper’s shot killed the remaining man. I was scurrying for cover when the shooter stood up and gave me a two-fingered salute—something Blake used to do when telling me good-bye. I thought it was just a coincidence until I saw the dog.”
“Which caused you to fly back to DC.”
“Yes. I went where I did after the car bombing. To my uncle Sam’s place. It was where I was told to go most of my life if I were ever in trouble. I’m not sure why I didn’t think of it before. But Blake was there. As were two other people. The dean of Blackwood Academy. Not only was he my mother’s CIA handler, but he is also Ares Von Allister’s father.”
Lorenzo narrows his eyes. “That would make him—”
“My grandfather. My uncle Sam was there, too. And this is the part that is really a big deal. The man who I knew as my uncle Sam is really Ares Von Allister.”
“What? Are you saying your biological father is alive?”
“Yeah. I have been kicking myself for not figuring it out sooner. The Von Allister logo with the V sitting on top of the A literally forms a black X.”
I fill him in on everything else I’ve learned since I went to the loft.
“And he had no idea you had Dupree’s ring?”
“Correct. He just wanted me to know that the treasure was there. He didn’t want me to access it.”
Lorenzo pulls me into a hug. “I don’t possibly know how I will ever repay you for constantly risking your life for my country.”
“It’s not for your country,” I admit. “It’s because I care for you. And, as for repayment, promise that you will be extremely careful over the next few days. I want you to be alive after the Olympics are over.”
“I shall do my best,” he says, his lips grazing mine. “But that means you must promise the same. I have many plans for our future together. What do you think we should do about the treasure?”
“We speak of it to no one—absolutely no one. The only people who know of it who are not in The Echelon are you, me, and Ares. We need to keep it that way. If we take down The Echelon, we’ll bring it back home and figure out what to do with it, but for now, it’s safely hidden.”
“What if they decide to move it?”
“I don’t think they would, as it would attract attention. Hillford had to use the cover of war to do it.”
“Just how big is it? And what will we do with it?”
“What Lorenzo the Magnificent wanted. Make Montrovia your version of Arcadia.”
“Maybe I’m not capable of that. Maybe I am not fit to rule,” he says, shaking his head, overcome with the immense burden of dealing with this on top of everything else.
“It’s been said throughout time, Lorenzo. First, by Voltaire, who said, ‘With great power comes great responsibility.’ Later, Churchill agreed, saying that, ‘The price of greatness is responsibility.’ Don’t ever doubt yourself. You were born to rule and are passionate about your country and its people. You will make the right decisions when the time comes,” I tell him as we begin our descent into France.
After the way Allie spoke of her upbringing, I half-expected her family to be country bumpkins, showing up wearing overalls with hay stuck between their teeth, but I’m pleasantly surprised to meet her mother, a former beauty queen and local television anchor. She married her high school sweetheart, who is the local football legend as well as the owner of the biggest car dealership in the region. They are smart, well educated, and both very pretty people.
Allie has three sisters. Amelia, the youngest, is a high school junior, track standout, and cheerleader. Amanda, who will be starting college this fall on a soccer scholarship, looks like Allie’s twin, except that her naturally blonde hair is dyed a dark shade of chestnut. Then, there’s Amber, Allie’s older sister, who apparently pissed off her parents last year by getting pregnant, dropping out of college, and marrying the child’s father, Alex, who is supposedly the town’s bad boy. He and the family’s oldest son, Austin—who is twenty-four and slowly taking over the car business—appear to be partners in crime, and along with their father, Adam, they are quite disappointed to learn that French strippers won’t be at the stag party.
Their mother, Adrianna, mutters something about being boys while Lorenzo leans over and whispers, “Do you think Allie is marrying Ari because his name starts with the right letter?”
That causes me to laugh.
“Those two boys are trouble,” I say, watching Alex and Austin chugging down their second glass of champagne. “You can already tell the night’s going to end with
them sprawled out on the bathroom floor, next to the toilet.”
He grins at me. “One can only hope that will transpire early in the evening, so the rest of us won’t be subjected to their annoying chatter on inappropriate subjects.”
“They have sex on the brain.”
“And you and Isla Windsor are who their brains have landed on. I fear you are in danger.”
I laugh at that. “Isla is much too young for them.”
“Actually, she’s just turned eighteen.”
I glance over and notice she seems to be having a deep conversation with Viktor.
“Do they know each other?” I ask.
Lorenzo smiles. “Just met.”
I grin and happily clap my hands. “They would be so cute together!”
“We’re cuter,” he whispers.
“We must be careful, Lorenzo. Especially in front of people who are not used to being around royalty.”
“Did you happen to notice that your suite could be opened up to adjoin an adjacent one? There’s a reason for that, Lee,” he says, my name rolling off his tongue like silk and seduction.
“I hope the parties don’t last long,” I reply.
“I am starting to feel a little under the weather,” he says, gazing into my eyes.
I notice Alex staring at us, so I back away from Lorenzo and say loudly, “Your job is to keep my brother out of trouble tonight, Your Highness.”
As I’m making my way over to where most of the women are congregated, Wesley Windsor slaps my ass as I walk by, causing the Indiana boys to hoot. With lightning speed, I grab Wesley’s arm and spin him around, shoving his face toward the ground.
“Don’t ever do that again to any woman you’re not dating, understand me?”
“Uh, yeah. I was just playing around. We’re friends.”
I ease up on the arm hold. “Do you let your friends smack your sister’s backside?”
“Bloody hell. No.”
“You already know better then,” I say, fully releasing him.
