Copyright 2019 – Lisa Kessler
Chapter One
“You expect me to invest in these—digital pirates?” John
Smyth lifted his gaze from the spreadsheets to Harmony
Andrews. The irony of his complaint didn’t escape him.
He’d been a pirate himself for lifetimes now. “It’s too risky.
We could lose everything.”
“Or we could double our money.” Her dark eyes sparked
with challenge.
Her instincts and determination had quickly made her
one of his best brokers. But she was also fearless, which
could end his capital investment firm if he gave her free rein.
His company, Privateer Capital, didn’t become one of
the oldest venture capital firms in the country by making
shady investments.
“Come on, John.” She rested her hands on the edge of
his desk, leaning in. “Privateer Capital has a reputation for
long-shot wins. This will work, I can feel it.”
He studied the numbers again. Privateer Capital opened
for business in 1870, shortly after the Civil War. As far as
the outside world knew, his company had been passed down
through his family for generations. No one would ever guess
he was actually the original John Smyth.
Initially, he’d been a private lender, assisting Savannah
business owners that the banks turned away. As the
boatswain for the Sea Dog crew, he was responsible for
distributing the shares among the men. And although he
wore suits now, his job remained the same. Protect and grow
his clients’ investments.
He rubbed his forehead, meeting her eyes again. “Why
does this one matter so much to you?”
She straightened as if his question physically knocked
her back. Her long black hair was up in a messy bun, and
her perfectly tailored navy-blue pantsuit accentuated her
curves. He had no business noticing any of it, but he couldn’t
help it.
“I’ve met with this firm three times. Their software
is cutting edge. They’re going to be huge. Did you see my
forecast chart? My gut is telling me this could be a gamechanger for us.”
He gathered her papers from his desk, stood up, and
handed them back, staring down at her with a look that he
hoped seemed determined and final. “And I’m telling you
we need more data.”
In spite of their height difference, she glared at him as if
she might close the distance between them at any moment.
She snatched the reports from his hand. “You hired me
because I can smell opportunity. Why are you clipping my
wings now?”
He couldn’t offer her an answer. Not an honest one,
anyway. During the five years they’d worked together, he’d
witnessed her gain confidence, speaking up in meetings and
never bowing to the other brokers with more experience.
Her instincts were breathtaking, her intelligence impressive,
but now he needed her to be cautious.
Circumstances were changing for him. And he couldn’t
discuss the reasons with her.
When he’d founded the company, Privateer Capital
seemed like a catchy name for a business based in Savannah,
Georgia. The port had been a favorite for pirates from all
over the map, including his own Sea Dog.
No one would believe John served on that ill-fated crew.
After plundering the Lord’s Cup, one sip froze time for
him. For over two hundred and fifty years now, his body
had remained ageless.
Being forty years old forever had its perks.
But recently his crew found a new purpose. They’d
come together again under the black flag for covert missions
for a top-secret branch of the government. And for the first
time since he founded Privateer Capital, John wanted out.
After tasting adventure again when they searched for the
Holy Grail, he’d remembered what it was like to really live.
He couldn’t go back to just existing.
If he could convince Harmony to take a few safer
bets, she’d make a brilliant CEO in his absence. However,
molding her into a more conservative executive was proving
impossible.
He cleared his throat. “I’m not clipping your wings. I’m
asking you to look at this office, at all the employees who
depend on us to keep the company solvent. Think of them
when you’re weighing a deal. Risky is one thing, but what if
it costs everything? It won’t just be you who is hurt.”
She pressed her lips into a thin line, but her gaze
softened. “I’ll crunch the numbers again.”
Her determined stride out of his office made him smile.
She might be the only part of this company he would miss.
…
Harmony Andrews closed her office door behind her,
resisting the urge to slam it. What was it with John Smyth?
She usually prided herself on her ability to read people, but
her profiling skills fell flat when that gorgeous, uptight man
walked into a room.
But her anger wasn’t just at him; some of it was directed
solely at herself. She shouldn’t let him get to her. She needed
to focus, and right now, her main objective was still out of
reach.
She grabbed her laptop from her bag and opened her
encrypted email.
Hey Tuck—
Smyth is still a no-go for funding the Digi Robins’
front company. We need a different angle. He thinks
it’s too risky.
Called us digital pirates, though. He has no idea
how right he was.
Can you get me new financials ASAP? Thanks.
—Marian
Each pod of the Digi Robins dark web boards used
codenames. Harmony didn’t know Tuck’s real name. It was
safer that way. If any of them were arrested, they couldn’t
finger anyone else. Most of them never met face to face,
either, they communicated through the message board and
encrypted emails.
She leaned back in her chair, tapping her pen against
the spreadsheet printouts. Maybe they wouldn’t need
Smyth’s capital. If the box she’d intercepted turned out
to be as valuable as she thought, they could sell it on the
black market for enough money to fund cancer care for two
patients and still have enough left over to cover the new
encrypted servers, laptops, and wireless tech they’d been
wishing for. She’d posted a few pics of the box on their
message board, and inquiries were already pouring in.
If she could figure out what was inside, she might be
able to get even more money, but the lid wouldn’t budge.
It wasn’t for a lack of trying. She’d done everything short
of using a saw to get inside, but if she damaged the box it
would be worthless. She tried several times to put it out
of her head and give up, but as unbelievable as it seemed,
the box…wanted to be opened. She swore if she sat quietly
enough, she could almost hear it whisper, calling to her to
crack the lid. Weird.
Tuck had given her the lead to hack the docks and
swipe the box. He was also the one who gave her the tip
on the location of the Holy Grail a couple months ago, but
she hadn’t been fast enough to make the grab before the
government took possession of it.
Outside her office window, John Smyth walked to his
car, distracting her from her thoughts. She wasn’t usually
voyeuristic, but her boss intrigued her. He drove a very safe
and tasteful Lexus, even though he could afford a Bentley
or a Maserati. And although he was all-business in the
office, something about his tailored suits always struck her
as a disguise. He wore his hair too long for an executive, his
dark curls brushing his shoulders, and in one ear he had a
small gold hoop earring. It hinted at a man who bristled at
conformity.
But other than his outward appearance, she’d never
seen any sign of that man.
He opened the back door of the Lexus and took off his
sports coat, hooking it on a hanger behind the driver’s seat.
She smirked. Everything in its place. Very John. His broad
shoulders and muscular arms strained at the confines of his
pressed dress shirt, tempting her to imagine what might be
hiding underneath it.
He slammed the door and looked up. Right at her.
Shit. Before she could break eye contact, he smiled, and
something about it gave her a glimpse of the man he kept
hidden behind the business suits. His grin had swagger,
like he enjoyed catching her watching him and dared her to
continue.
So, she did.
He got into the driver’s seat and started the engine, then
peered up at her one more time, his dark eyes unapologetic
about the non-professional connection. Heat flashed
through her bloodstream. With a knowing crooked grin, he
drove out of the parking lot. Gone.
Harmony blew out a pent-up breath and leaned back in
her chair.
What the hell just happened?
For a second, she was ready to race to the elevator and
chase him down. She picked up an envelope to fan herself.
I’m missing something about him. But damn if I know
what it is.
Before applying at Privateer Capital, she’d researched
the company and its current owner. John Smyth was the
sixth Smyth male to inherit and run the family-owned
business. His family line seemed to be cursed. None of the
Smyth men seemed to live beyond sixty-five.
But in spite of the familial tragedies, Privateer was one
of the oldest venture capital companies in the country and
very well-respected.
Which meant they attracted the wealthiest clientele in
the South. What better place to find antiques and relics to
steal?
She snatched Trixie, her lucky Troll doll, off the
cluttered desk, teasing the tips of her fluorescent hair with
her finger. In college, Trixie helped her study for exams,
and at Privateer, she’d been Harmony’s good luck charm
with deals that others, mostly John, saw as risky. Back in
school, Harmony never would have dreamed she would use
her degree to become a thief. It hadn’t been her plan. She
stumbled into it and learned the art out of necessity.
After her parents split up, her father went back to
Texas, and Harmony quickly learned the only person she
could count on was herself. She spent her teen years caring
for her younger brother the best she could, but the day he
was diagnosed with a rare form of bacteria feeding on his
nervous system, everything changed, and not for the better.
Mom never signed them up for health insurance.
His dire diagnosis made getting insurance impossible.
Harmony scoured the internet for help to cover the medical
costs, sickened to realize the lack of funds could cost her
brother his life. But one night, she found a message board
that gave her hope.
Through the Digi Robins, a new world opened to her,
and a chance to help others who found themselves in the
same spot.
But if they were going to expand, she needed capital.
And one way or another, John Smyth was the key.
…
John left his tie and jacket in the car, unbuttoning the cuffs
of his shirt as he walked down the dock to the Sea Dog. The
replica of their beloved Spanish galleon kept his pirate spirit
alive, and knowing Agent Bale had a new mission for the
crew made his heart race in anticipation.
He rolled up his cuffs and popped the top two buttons
on his shirt open as he crossed the gangplank and stepped
onto the deck. Colton, the quartermaster, approached with
a grin. “Well-dressed for a pirate, mate.”
John chuckled. “My meeting ran long. Is Agent Bale
here yet?”
“No.” Colton glanced toward the stern and back to John.
“Flynn is with the others outside the Captain’s quarters.”
John slapped Colton’s back. “You look good, for an
aging man.”
Colton shoved his shoulder with a grin. “Just because I
chose not to take another drink from the Holy Grail doesn’t
mean I’m dying any time soon.”
Good. None of the crew looked forward to watching
Colton age, but they respected his choice. When they’d
discovered, after nearly three hundred years, that the Holy
Grail’s healing effects were fading, the crew hunted for the
relic to regain their immortality. But during the search,
Colton fell in love and yearned for a family. He chose not to
take another swallow.
No one could blame him for not wanting to outlive his
future family.
The deck rocked under John’s feet, his legs instinctively
taking to the uneven surface. When he reached the stern,
all eyes turned his way. He scanned the rest of the crew, his
gaze locking on a tall man in a dark suit coming across the
gangplank.
Agent Bale was about the same height as John, with
short brown hair and ice-blue eyes. The crew had grown to
respect the leader of Department 13, but respect and trust
were two very different things in John’s opinion.
Bale had proven himself in battle during their quest to
recover the Holy Grail. He also had access to helicopters,
weapons, and even magic. But the American government
couldn’t risk being accused of stealing from private citizens.
That was where the Sea Dog crew came in.
They provided the piracy Bale needed, in trade for
payment in untraceable gold bars.
During the fight to reclaim the Holy Grail, John
rediscovered the thrill of piracy with the added purpose.
Now they had the opportunity to plunder, not solely for
their own coffers, but to protect the world from paranormal
threats.
Agent Bale scanned the group. “We’re missing some of
your crew.”
Colton came forward. “Greyson and Caleb are working,
and One-Eyed Bob is in the galley. He’ll be up soon.”
“I guess you’ll need to fill them in later.” Agent Bale
took an iPad out of his attaché, and the screen lit up. “This
is the shipment I told you about. According to our records,
it was logged as received, but we have reason to believe it
never actually made it into the vault.”
John frowned. “Pandora’s box never arrived?”
“My team has scoured through a few weeks’ worth of
security footage now, but it seems that our system may have
been hacked.” Bale swiped the tablet and turned it around
to reveal a small black box with the Greek key motif carved
around the base and the lid. “This is what was supposed to
be in the crate.”
“Bit small, don’t you think?” John rubbed his chin. “All
the miseries of the world are in that box?”
“Yes,” Bale replied. “And I need you to recover it
before someone unleashes the evils inside.” Bale’s attention
moved from one face to the next. “There’s been a posting
on the dark web from the Digi Robins. Safe to say from the
photo my team found, the Digi Robins have the box in their
possession now. I should have a picture from the dock’s
security camera soon. We’re still pinpointing the date for
reviewing footage.”
“When we were chasing the Grail, you mentioned a
woman with a robin tattoo.” John crossed his arms. “She
was after the Grail, too.”
“Right.” Bale nodded. “The Digi Robins have been
upping their game, looking for a big score, and this box
could be the payoff they’ve been waiting for.” Bale tucked
the tablet under his arm. “Once I have a photo of a suspect
from the dock’s security camera, I’ll text it to all of you. I
need you to find the thief right away. If the Digi Robins sell
the box, we may never find it again.”
Anticipation bubbled in John’s gut.
He was anxious to get the hunt underway.