Born of Treasure (Treasure Chronicles Book 2) (33 page)

achariah
.” Georgette tumbled down beside him, rolling him over to stare at his face. His eyes stared at the ceiling, his jaw dropping. “Oh, my baby. My baby, say something. Zachariah!”

“You shot him,” Amethyst whispered. Sure, she threatened them, but there shouldn’t have been actual bloodshed around her parents.

“What is happening here?” A mahogany door opened as the president strode into the hallway. “Someone explain this. Treasure, what is the meaning of this ruckus?” His gaze must’ve fallen on Zachariah and Georgette’s weeping form, for his face paled. “Who shot your boy?”

“The army.” Jeremiah puffed his chest, but Amethyst could see how his fists trembled. “They shot my brother in cold blood. He wasn’t armed.”

She was, though. Amethyst stuck her pistol back into its holder before the president could comment on it.

“You shot the Treasure boy?” The president narrowed his eyes at the army. “Whoever shot, explain yourself.”

“Sir, we are under orders.” One of the army men saluted the president. Amethyst wanted to blow the bullet through his brain. Zachariah
had
been unarmed. If he had to shoot anyone, it should’ve been her.

“To shoot unarmed captives?” The president’s cheeks reddened. “The Treasures are under arrest by the kingdom. That means they are under protection of the law until such time their trial can be carried out.”

“Senator Horan gave us orders to shoot and kill any of the Treasures when the need arose, sir. We are not to allow them to leave this building, sir.”

“Senator Horan ordered you to murder them?” The president hesitated. Who else did he think would’ve ordered their execution?

Amethyst knelt beside her brother and clasped Zachariah’s hand, lifting it to her cheek. She rubbed his knuckles against her skin before kissing them.

“My baby.” Tears pulled from her mother’s eyes. Georgette had never looked so haggard, with wrinkles and dark circles, her lips chapped.

Amethyst closed her eyes, leaping to the dead zone. Zachariah circled in the dust. She reached for him, smiling. “Come.” His eyes had lost that blankness and his mouth pressed tight. He clutched her, and she pulled him back in time to hear the president cough.

“Senator Horan.” The man’s voice sounded strangled. “What orders did you give the army?”

“Orders? I know not what you speak.” The senator’s tone had that oiled polish of a lie. Amethyst knew it well; she’d perfected that over the years.

“Did you or did you not command the army to kill the Treasures?”

Amethyst stood so she could read the senator’s expression. He had come from down the hallway, his hair ruffled and his shift disheveled. On the floor, Zachariah moaned, and Georgette gasped.

“I merely told them to protect themselves from the Treasures.” Another oiled reply. “You needn’t worry yourself with any of this mayhem. I can look after the west well enough.”

“You called me in to help administer justice to the Treasures. That is what I shall do. It is not appropriate to give orders to the army concerning well-to-do citizens awaiting trial.”

“Zachariah,” Georgette murmured. “Lay still. We’ll get you help.”

“He’ll be fine.” Amethyst rested her hand on her pistol in case she needed it. “He’ll heal.”

“He was shot,” Alyssa exclaimed. “How can you be such a cold bitch?”

So, Alyssa did have some fire in her.

Amethyst tossed her head. “I healed him. I know he’ll be fine.”

“You’re not a healer,” Garth said. “What did you do to him?”

She smirked at Senator Horan as she stepped into his line of sight. “Guess what, love. Clark isn’t the only one with powers. I found the vials in your office.”

“What’s this about vials?” Garth began, when the senator interrupted.

“You took it and you’re fine? You haven’t been hurt? Is this your first heal?” His eyes flashed and he clasped Clark’s hands as though they might shake.

She winked. “I’ve brought people back plenty of times and I’m
perfectly
fine.”

Another side door opened in the hallway and Clark ran in with his two pistols drawn, aimed at the Senator.

“Put those down,” the president roared. “There will be no more gunfire today.”

A girl hurried in after Clark, almost bumping into him. “Brass glass! Why’s everyone in such a mood here, eh?”

“Mable, get back,” Clark snapped.

Mable—the girl he’d grown up with in Tangled Wire? How had she gotten into the mess?

“You got here just in time for our announcement.” Senator Horan strode down the hallway to grab Amethyst’s arm, yanking her against his side. “When my dear Miss Treasure and I met to discuss affairs, we came up with a splendid decision to release her family and prove they aren’t traitors. You’ll find this delightful, Mr. President. Miss Treasure and I plan to be married.”

“
What
?” Amethyst jerked back, but he tightened his grip, pinning her against his side.

“With Miss Treasure wedded to me, her family will have no choice but to follow the law.” Senator Horan seemed to salivate with his excitement.

“We never agreed to anything!”

“You want her for that vial,” Jeremiah growled.

“Senator Horan,” Garth said, “you’re married.”

“We’re getting a divorce.” The senator clamped his fingers around Amethyst’s chin. “My sweetie will just have to wait a month while it becomes settled.”

“I’m surprised you don’t want to kill her. You kill everyone else,” Amethyst hissed. His fingers dug in deeper, making her squeak. When she grabbed his wrist to pry him off, he laughed.

“We’ll publish the marriage bans as soon as possible. You’ll be there of course, Mr. President.”

Amethyst freed her pistol and shoved it into his throat. “You can’t marry me. I’m already wedded.” She cocked it with her thumb.

Senator Horan gulped and released her. Amethyst spun away, keeping the gun leveled at him.

“This is enough.” Her father raised his voice. “The president is right. There has been too much bloodshed already. Cease, everyone. We will reconvene and discuss this as civilized gentlemen.”

“My sister isn’t married.” Jeremiah wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. “We never did anything wrong besides work our land and protect our family.”

“No more lies,” Garth agreed.

“I am married.” Amethyst flashed her teeth in a grin. “The name’s Amethyst Grisham now.”

Clark adjusted his grips on his guns, thankful his leather gloves kept the sweat from making them slip. Her family would have to know at some point. He’d pictured them seated around the table, while he held Amethyst’s hand; they would smile at each other as they shared the news. Well, Amethyst would share it. She loved to talk, and it would be perfect for her drama.

“Who?” Jeremiah sputtered. He might not know, but Georgette and Garth would. Georgette stared at Clark with her lips parted. Why did she kneel on the floor beside Zachariah, and why did blood cover his front?

“I’m sure the name is familiar to you, Senator.” She tipped her head to the side, still grinning. “Clark Grisham. His father was that inventor you loved
so
much.” She dragged out the “so” as the senator paled.

“Grisham had no son,” Senator Horan sputtered.

“Actually, I did.” Eric shimmered into place behind Senator Horan.

And the senator turned to look at him.

And the senator cried out, “No, you’re dead.”

His father was dead. How could the senator see him?

“This is what powers that vial contains.” Eric waved to himself from head to toe. “Do you see now why I didn’t want that invention made known? The dead should stay that way. I shouldn’t still be here.”

“Eric.” Georgette clutched her throat.

“You are
the
Eric Grisham? The inventor?” the president clarified.

Eric turned to him. “Senator Horan has used my inventions for his own gain. He’s terrorized the populace here, and he’s used them to get himself reelected. In fact, he’s used almost everything of mine to gain power through intimidation. He never purchased any of them from me. They were stolen or used without permission. I never pressed charges because I was still inventing and making enough off what I did sell, but he’s abused them.”

“You’re dead.” The president gulped before shaking his head. “Wait, do you have proof of any of this?”

“I can take you to each invention and show you how he’s used them. He also has most of my invention journals. Those will prove they’re my belongings.”

The president cleared his throat. “We will adjourn to a safe location of my designation and we will sort this out.”

“Eric Grisham has no son,” Senator Horan repeated. “All of this is a jam. The Treasures are tricking you. They don’t want Amethyst to marry me for love.”

“I don’t love you,” she shrieked.

“Sir.” Clark steadied his hands. “I am Clark Grisham, Eric’s only son.” The president might listen and believe, but the senator had the power of Hedlund. He would weasel his way to freedom, or he might hurt the Treasures more.

Amethyst had been right when she plunged forward, heedless of the results. Clark was already a wanted man. He’d murdered Captain Greenwood. Why not add one more?

“This is on behalf of my father, whom you hired a mercenary to kill.” Clark pulled the triggers and watched the bullets tear two holes into Senator Horan.