Silver at Midnight: A Paranormal Romance Urban Fantasy (The Keepers of Knowledge Series Book 5) by Bridgette O'Hare (best large ereader .TXT) 📕

went down the wrong pipe. I recovered and wiped my mouth with a napkin. “Aye,” I nodded my head, “I do believe I’ve heard the name.” I played along and then hid subtly behind my coffee mug, taking another sip.

His grin morphed into a crooked smile. “I thought ya may have. So, Miss O’Connor was on our radar. At that point, our organization became quite interested in how she was privy t’ some of the information she was supplying t’ The Saiad. Especially considering it always seemed t’ be insanely accurate. Yet, she never gave them quite enough information t’ push them t’ the point of acquiring an artifact. Or her information would lead them t’ yet another clue that they had absolutely no way of knowing would lead them in circles, without actually appearing t’ be leading them in circles. And she did this with such skill that they would have likely never caught on t’ the fact they were being handled. They were convinced she was providing them with intelligence when it was, in fact, the other way around. Then, she just disappeared from the radar.”

It was at that point I knew I had two options: Trust Cian McCallister, within reason, and own the intel he had on me, consequently agreeing to join him in taking down The Saiad. Or I could deny all involvement and spend the next month in Pyreshore trying to avoid him like the plague. If I was being honest with myself, I didn’t want to avoid him. Everything about him intrigued me, and I don’t remember feeling that way about anyone. Ever.

I pulled the mug close to my lips, both hands wrapped around it, and raised an eyebrow mischievously in Cian’s direction. “She sounds brilliant,” I declared.

His smile returned. “Oh, we thought so, as well.”

“I wonder what ever happened t’ her,” I pondered sarcastically and sipped my coffee.

“Yeah, well . . . so did we. That’s why we had t’ look in t’ who she was.”

“Oh? And what did ya find?”

“A legend,” he stated matter-of-factly.

“Well . . . that’s high praise,” I teased.

“Cute.”

“And here I was, not even sure ya noticed,” I said without missing a beat. Yep, that was me . . . flirting in the midst of what was supposed to be a serious conversation—and a potentially dangerous situation. I couldn’t tell you what had let that slip through my guard, but I silently reprimanded myself and tried to refocus. He didn’t make it easy on me, though.

“I assure you . . . I noticed.” The timbre of his voice caused a reaction in my chest—a quickening of excitement and fear.

I swallowed hard and regrouped, hoping I could use the direction of this conversation to learn something about the organization he was working with and bring up his own legend. Maybe even get some info for Lazlo on his counterpart. “Natra’s guy is hands down the absolute best at what he does. So, how’d ya know Ashlyn O’Connor was a legend?” I questioned.

“Aye. I’ll give it t’ ya. He’s quite good. I think I know someone who might give him a run for his money, though.”

“I’d like to meet this person.”

“Play your cards right; I may be able to arrange that.”

I made a mental note to try to hold him to that. “So . . . back to my question. How’d ya know?” I posed the query once more, genuinely curious as to what had tipped them off.

“It was actually the last bit of intelligence you left with Darek Walsh. The IMINT mixed in with the chicken feed is how we determined Ashlyn had to be a legend.”

He used the terminology like it was his first language. No one knew that chicken feed was accurate but harmless information unless they had been spreading it around too. But now I needed to know just which bit of imaginary intelligence had given up my alias.

“IMINT?” I asked. “Please elaborate. I’m sure our guru would love to know what he needs to improve on. He will not be happy to learn there was a chink in his armor.”

“How about I show you instead?”

I perked up. “I do like visuals. What have ya got?”

He moved to the chair nearest me and slid it even closer to mine. I felt the urge to reestablish a bit of distance, but that would have been obvious. It would also make it difficult to see what he was about to show me on his phone. When he leaned in and positioned the phone in front of me, his shoulder touched mine. Once again, a powerful surge of Fae magic pulsed into my flesh. I immediately leaned away to sever the physical connection, and therefore end the volt of magical mayhem—or so I had expected. But the momentum of the sensation continued to drum through me. I had wondered if he’d felt it when we shook hands the night before. But now, judging by the way his stare fixed on mine and the way the nearly palpable electricity danced between us, I was fairly certain the experience was mutual. Something was happening, no doubt about that. I just didn’t know what.

For the first time since I’d met him, Cian seemed visibly shaken. He broke eye contact and stuttered for a moment before recovering and pointing to his phone. “So, uh . . . this is the image that caused a blip on the radar. As you can see . . .”

He was still talking, but I honestly didn’t have a clue what he was saying. I was focused on the turmoil swirling inside my mind. How had I let my guard down so easily? Had Uncle Lachlan’s trust in Cian swayed me more than I had realized? And now, I was wrestling with this pull toward a man I didn’t even know, a pull that I needed to get a handle on . . . fast. It was time I think like an operative. Time to stop letting whatever