Desire Me (10 page)

She held up one of the jars she’d purchased. Something in this crème made women look younger. She’d already experienced it
herself. But using crème wouldn’t keep her forever young, Cassandra knew that. She needed the fountain itself.

“Leave,” she commanded her men. “I will devise a new plan. In the meantime, stay out of trouble, and I’ll send for you when
I need you.”

They all turned to go, and she caught sight of Johns’s broad shoulders. “Johns, not you. There is something else I need you
to attend to.”

M
ax had just swallowed his first sip of brandy in an attempt to dull the pain when a knock came on his bedchamber door.

“A gentleman to see you,” his butler said.

Max frowned. “At this hour?”

“He is with the Metropolitan Police, my lord. He’s waiting in your study.”

Son of a bitch
. He’d barely gotten home, and they’d already sent the police calling on him. They’d shot him; he would have thought that
enough retribution for breaking into their shop. Not bothering to put on another shirt or shoes, Max made his way downstairs
to his study, and upon entering, he found Justin Salinger standing in the doorway. Justin was a fellow member of the exclusive
legend hunter’s club, Solomon’s. Max relaxed a little, knowing he wouldn’t have to come up with some story to explain his
presence at their shop.

“I need your help,” Justin said.

“It’s bloody late, Salinger. Help with what?” Max
asked. Normally Max was more hospitable, but the gunshot wound irritated
the hell out of him. He knew Justin, but not well. The man was new to Solomon’s, so they had only met on a few occasions.
Max came around his desk and motioned for Justin to have a seat opposite him. “Brandy?”

“No. My apologies about the time,” Justin said with a smile as he noted Max’s appearance. “It’s for an investigation, actually.”

“Here on official business with the Yard, then?” He flopped into the chair adjacent to the inspector. Perhaps Justin really
was here to arrest him. “That little minx. Did they report me right after I left?”

“Report you?” Justin shook his head. “No, I’m here about a murder,” Justin said. “Five of them, actually.”

“Well, then, if you’re not here to haul me off to prison, I think I’ll have a brandy. Are you sure you don’t want one?”

Justin smiled. “You’ve convinced me. Brandy would be good.”

Max relaxed a little and poured them each a drink. He handed one to Justin.

“I have to ask”—he pointed to Max’s stitches—“what happened?”

Max shrugged as he returned to his chair. “I got shot tonight.”

“The little minx?” Justin asked, repeating Max’s earlier words.

“Not exactly, but close enough. I haven’t decided yet if she’s going to be worth all the trouble she will no doubt cause.”

“But you’re going to wait her out.” Justin smiled.

“Something like that.” Max took a swig. He still didn’t
know what the hell any of this had to do with him, but at least the
inspector wasn’t here to bring him in. “Five connected murders?” Max asked.

“I believe so. Someone’s after the crown.” He took a sip of his drink, then balanced the glass on his knee.

Max frowned. “What are you talking about, Justin?”

“The generals that have recently died. Have you seen anything about that?”

Max nodded. “In the papers. They did say there were a couple of suicides,” Max said. “Something about a mistake in a mission
in Africa.”

“The first death was initially believed to be a suicide or even merely an accident. But the bodies have continued to mount,
and we’re now considering that first one a homicide. Five generals in a shockingly short amount of time. Last night, General
Lancer was found in his study with an apparent gunshot to the head.”

Max leaned forward. “It does seem unlikely the first isn’t connected to these others,” he said.

“General Reasoner was the one killed in the fire. We assume now he was our first. Then General Carrington had his throat slit,
and Lancer was shot in the head,” Justin said.

“What of the other two?” Max asked.

Justin leaned back and wiped a hand over his face. “Killed tonight in a carriage just outside London. Mercer and Clyde. They
were together, presumably heading to a meeting of some sort, though it’s unknown whom the two of them would be meeting together.
Under normal circumstances, an army officer would not meet with one from the navy. And it was well known that they didn’t
care for each other.” Justin shook his head. “Makes no
sense. They were ambushed. The driver is missing. We’re still trying
to find him, but…”

“Perhaps the driver shot them and then stole their valuables,” Max said.

Justin exhaled slowly and then came to his feet. “It was the first thing we checked. Both men had substantial amounts of money
on them and were still wearing their jewelry.”

“Those two men together.” Max whistled. “The highest-ranking military officer and a naval officer.”

“I know. We know with certainty that their deaths are connected to the other three. We found a damned note.” Justin leaned
forward, bracing his arms on Max’s desk. “
Not
written by either victim.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I really shouldn’t discuss these matters with a civilian,
but I need your expertise.”

He pulled the parchment out of his pocket and dropped it onto Max’s desk. As Max reached for the note, Justin slammed his
own hand down onto it. “If you tell anyone I showed these to you, I’ll shoot you.”

“Get in line,” Max said with a chuckle.

“The other letter didn’t make much sense. We suspect there might have been one with Carrington, but perhaps his wife took
it. She found the body. We’ve sent an officer over to discuss the matter with her.”

Justin handed Max the note across the desk. Max unfolded the parchment, then scanned the florid lines.

“Bastard wants us to print this in the
Times
,” Justin said. “The language is so peculiar. ‘Seven rings of Atlantis,’” Justin quoted. “What the hell does that have to
do with our military?”

Max looked up from the letter. “This is why you came to me?” Max asked.

“Yes. Everyone at the Yard thinks the killer is delusional or something. I figured if anyone knew anything it would be you.”

Max linked his fingers and rested his hands atop his abdomen. “Seven rings of Atlantis,” Max repeated.

“That’s familiar to you,” Justin said with a broad smile. “I knew it would be.”

“Yes, I recognize it.” Max nodded slowly. “But I don’t know why anyone would use it.”

“What is it?” Justin asked.

Max pointed over his shoulder to the map framed on the wall. “It’s from the map. It took me years to locate all the inscriptions
and to complete the necessary research to make some sense of it. It’s the ancient prophecy woven through the map’s illustrations
that predicted the destruction of Atlantis.”

“That does not help me, Max. I can’t go back to the Yard and tell them it’s a prophecy.”

“
Was
a prophecy,” Max corrected.

“That’s beside the point.”

Max shook his head. “Clearly someone has a message they want to get out. You said they want you to print it in the newspaper.
What would be the point of that?”

“I’m guessing that stems solely from arrogance,” Justin said. “But it does appear to be an actual message to someone.”

“I might know who to ask.” No one had inquired about his map in years, and suddenly it happened twice in two days. Max didn’t
believe in coincidences. He looked down at the note again and pointed to the top. “This is addressed to the ‘guardian.’ I’ve
never come across mention of that in any of my research.”

“I suspect it to be her majesty. Which brings me to yet
another favor. I want to see if she has heard anything and to perhaps
warn her that it might be time to increase her security. For herself and for her officers.”

Max raised his eyebrows.

“I need to get in to see the queen, and there’s nothing about my status that will get me an audience with her,” Justin explained.
“Third sons who work for the Metropolitan Police are not too high on the list when it comes to the monarchy.”

“I haven’t seen her majesty in quite a while, but she always seemed rather fond of me,” Max said with a grin.

“Thank you.” Justin sighed heavily. “Now tell me about this prophecy.”

“Take a look for yourself,” Max said.

“Is it true you found it when you were only seventeen?”

“Yes,” Max said.

Justin accepted the invitation and came around the desk to stand in front of the large, framed map. “This is quite a masterpiece.”

It took up nearly a quarter of the wall. The hand coloring had not faded over the years so it remained as vibrant and beautiful
as the day Max had discovered it. He never tired of looking at it. It only fueled his desire to one day see the sunken land
for himself.

“Yes,” Max agreed.

After several moments of staring at the map, Justin leaned back. “Where is the prophecy?”

“You have to look closely,” Max said. “Follow the water rings, then that grove of trees.” He pointed. “The prophecy is embedded
in the images of the map.”

Justin stared back at the map. “Oh, here we go. Hidden symbols,” he muttered. “Problem is, though, I don’t read Greek.”

“
The seven rings of Atlantis will fall by fire and steel, opening the path for the army of one. Empires will crumble and crowns
will melt. The three will lose their blood unless the dove can bring salvation
,” Max said. He’d memorized it years ago.

“What is the dove?” he asked.

“I’ve found no mention of that in my research either, though I have tried. Best I can figure out is it must have been some
sort of weapon. Or perhaps a plan.” Max shrugged. “Whatever it was, it didn’t work. Atlantis was not saved, if the myth is
to be believed at all. Though it seems unlikely anything would have saved them from the earthquake or volcanic eruption—or
whatever happened that sank the island.” Max released a heavy sigh.

“Frustrated?” Justin chuckled. “I’ve felt like that often in my Treasure Island research.” He looked back at the map.

Justin had only recently been admitted to Solomon’s. He’d just begun his search. So if Justin was disheartened about his quest
for Treasure Island, well, Max could teach the man a thing or two about perseverance.

Max had been searching for Atlantis for the better part of his life. There were long stretches of time where it seemed he
made no progress. Other times, it felt as if the proof he sought sat just out of reach. Just out of his sight. As if he might
round the next corner and find it standing before him.

As frustrating as the endless search was, it was moments like that that kept Max going. Being a legend hunter took not merely
skill, and intelligence, but perseverance as well. Max’s instincts told him Justin possessed all three. If the intensity with
which Justin focused on
Max’s map was any indication. Justin stared at the map so long that Max expected him to say something
more.

Max, on the other hand, had been a member of Solomon’s for fifteen years. When he found the map of Atlantis at the age of
seventeen, Solomon’s had invited him to join. They had expected him to go on to do something amazing. He had expected the
same thing.

Of course, he’d had his share of success aiding other members. Yet no matter how skilled he was at research and detection,
proof that Atlantis had existed eluded him. The juicy grapes still dangled above the mouth of the starving Tantalus.

And yet, he knew with a bone-deep certainty that the proof was out there. Somewhere. There was nothing he wouldn’t give to
obtain it.

Justin began repeating the prophecy slowly, as if mulling over every word. Finally, he turned and said, “What if the prophecy
isn’t about the demise of Atlantis?”

“Impossible.” Max shook his head. How many times, late at night, had he studied that map looking for hidden clues, then scoured
through ancient texts for assistance? Naturally, he knew the words of the prophecy as well as he knew his own reflection.
“What else could it be?”

“What I mean is, what if someone else
believed
it to be about something other than Atlantis?” Justin asked. His eyes held that spark of discovery. Bloody hell, what he
was suggesting was certainly a possibility. That hint of a new clue was an irresistible lure to an adventurer like Max.

Grudgingly, Max rose to stand beside Justin. So this young pup thought he could discover something new in the map? Well, no
one knew the map or the prophecy better than Max. Max stared at the prophecy, considering
Justin’s words. If one
assumed
the prophecy wasn’t about the destruction of Atlantis, then what would it be about?

“Something that hasn’t yet happened,” Max said aloud.

“Precisely. These rings”—Justin pointed to each on the map—“the seven rings of Atlantis, they were in place to protect the
island nation, correct?”

“Yes, precisely. The alternating rings of land and water gave Atlantis great protection from warring nations.” Max slanted
a look at Justin. “And you said you thought the guardian referred to the queen. So who protects the queen? Who protects all
of England?”