Federal Paranormal Agency 6 - Leannan Page 2

  “Hi, I’m Thomas Doyle.” Toby cleared his throat. He stood up straight, squaring his shoulders. “I’m Thomas, but my friends call me Tommy.” Shaking his head, Toby decided he didn’t want to be called Tommy. It made him sound as if he were a child. “Thomas. I’m Thomas Doyle. I’m visiting from the States.”

  He repeated the mantra over and over again until he actually started to believe that he was Thomas Doyle, a human college student visiting Ireland from the States. He was no longer Toby Winters.

  Chapter Two

  Thomas grabbed his backpack from under the seat in front of him. He stood in one fluid motion, throwing the straps over his shoulders and cinching them tight. Stepping into the aisle along with the other passengers, Thomas slowly shuffled his feet as he moved toward the front of the aircraft. The fourteen-hour flight had left him feeling grimy and sleep deprived. He hadn’t been able to relax enough to fall asleep, not in such tight quarters. It seemed that the federal government couldn’t even spring for a decent seat.

  When he finally stepped off the plane and into the terminal, Thomas gave a sigh of relief.

  Lifting his arms above his head, Thomas stretched out his back, and his joints cracked. He looked around, his eyes bouncing off all the signs littering the terminal. Thomas started walking toward the lines at customs. He pulled his passport out of his back pocket and opened it, checking out the picture. The documents in his possession were damn good. They weren’t forgeries. They were authentic.

  Flipping through the pages, he admired all the stamps as the line inched forward one baby step at a time. When he reached the bold yellow line on the linoleum floor, Thomas paused, waiting his turn. After a couple of minutes, he was waved over by one of the officers. He handed the man his passport and waited as he checked it out.

  “Name?”

  “Thomas Doyle.”

  “What’s the purpose of your visit?”

  “I’m on vacation,” Thomas said.

  “How long are you planning to stay?”

  “Two weeks.”

  Thomas kept his answers brief and concise, his stance relaxed and casual. The customs agent stamped his book, waving him away. He collected his passport and left, shoving it back into his pocket. Thomas moved through the crowd, getting lost within the waves of people as he strode toward the exit.

  Stepping outside, Thomas pulled the hood up on his sweatshirt, covering his head, and zipped up the front. The sky was gray and cloudy, a thin layer of drizzle raining down. He ducked his head and shoved his hands into his pockets. Thomas started walking, leaving the Belfast International Airport behind. He was tempted to take a cab, but he didn’t have a lot of cash, and Thomas didn’t want to waste it on a ride when he would need a roof over his head.

  Why couldn’t he be an independently wealthy playboy? Thomas chuckled lightly, pushing the thought away. There wasn’t time to dream. He needed to stay focused on this mission. Getting Duncan’s attention was his number one priority. The man gravitated toward young men who were needy and vulnerable. He wanted to be a knight in shining armor or, more appropriately, a knight in Armani.

  When his cell phone started ringing, Thomas ducked under an overhang. He pulled his backpack off his shoulders and unzipped it, searching for the device. Dad flashed across the screen, and his heart clenched at the memory of his own father. Clicking the talk button, Thomas held the phone up to his ear.

  “Hey, Dad.”

  “How was your flight, son?”

  He recognized the voice right away. It was Lionel Palmer, the FBI agent, posing as a concerned parent.

  Rolling his eyes heavenward, Thomas muttered, “Coach sucks.”

  Lionel chuckled. “I was just calling to make sure you made it there in one piece. If you need anything, give me a call.”

  “Thanks, Dad, I will.” Ending the call, Thomas buried the phone inside his backpack.

  If you need anything? Code for “if you get any leads on Duncan Ó Branagáin, give us a call.” They’d swoop in and take care of business. Otherwise, he was on his own.

  “Fuck this,” he grumbled.

  The rain and the phone call soured his mood.

  Thomas didn’t have a lot of cash, but with the weather getting worse, he realized that he didn’t have many options. Stepping out from under the overhang, he strode toward the curb and lifted his arm, hailing a cab. A vehicle pulled to the curb, and Thomas opened the back door, climbing inside. Warmth instantly surrounded him.

  He rattled off the street name, not giving the driver his exact location. Keeping his face out of the rearview mirror, Thomas ducked down, pretending to be invisible as he stared out the window. The rain pounded down against the vehicle, fat droplets running along the glass, as the car sped down the street. When the car came to a stop at the corner of the street, Thomas handed off a few bills before stepping out of the car. He waited for the cab to pull away before he started walking down the sidewalk.

  The rain continued to pour down, soaking through his clothing as he made his way toward the end of the block.

  Thomas paused out front of his destination, a pub owned by Duncan. From the outside, the pub didn’t feel very inviting. In fact, the brick and mortar building appeared unfriendly and cold, telling all those who passed to stay away. Large black letters prominently displayed across the top of the cement building read The Temple, with an intricate Celtic design on each side. Lifting an arm, Thomas wiped off his face, but it was useless. He was a soggy mess.

  He took a step toward the main entrance but stopped suddenly when he heard a soft whine, followed by a series of whimpering cries. Thomas walked toward the sound, around the side of the building. As the sky darkened, the only thing Thomas could spot was a line of dumpsters. There weren’t any lights illuminating the alleyway, but with his supernatural senses, Thomas could see clearly. He stepped over a few broken beer bottles, discarded cigarette butts, and trash. The sad little noises grew louder as he walked closer. Kneeling down, Thomas peeked between two large metal bins and found the source.

  “Hey, there little guy.” He kept his tone sugary sweet, coaxing the chunky little puppy to come to him.

  The fur ball didn’t hesitate for even a moment. He jumped into Thomas’s arms, licking his face and wagging his tail. Thomas couldn’t help himself. He laughed.

  “What are you doing out here?” A deep, Irish brogue washed over him, sending a jolt through Thomas.

  Thomas jerked his head up. He slowly rose, holding the puppy against his chest. The side door was propped open, and Duncan was standing in the threshold. Thomas had been so focused on rescuing the animal that he didn’t even hear the man’s approach. His mouth dropped open, excitement warring with uncertainty. The man was wearing a suit, and truth be told, he looked even better in person.

  “I–I heard a noise.” Thomas used a small voice, shrinking back.

  Duncan stared at him, the man’s intense eyes searching, studying. “Come inside.”

  “But…” Thomas’s looked down at the puppy. He couldn’t leave the helpless little creature outside in the cold all alone.

  “You can bring the little beast.”

  Duncan stepped back, creating enough space for Thomas to pass. Thomas pulled his lower lip into his mouth, gently biting down on the flesh. He took a moment to think about his situation. This wasn’t exactly how he’d planned on meeting the notorious Duncan Ó Branagáin, but it was an opportunity he couldn’t pass up.

  Thomas walked toward the door. With each step he took, the air grew thicker, more potent. As he passed Duncan, Thomas inhaled, pulling the man’s scent deep into his lungs. The mixture of smells invaded Thomas’s head—leather, black orchid, vanilla, and sandalwood— spicy yet soft.

  Mate.

  The severity of the situation hit him hard, like a bullet to the heart. Thomas’s shoulders dropped, all of his energy suddenly vanishing. It’s not fair. He wanted to shout at the sheer injustice, but he couldn’t. Fate hates me. He’d lost his family, and now,
he would lose his mate as well. Maybe I’m cursed.

  Thomas put his back against the wall and waited. Duncan closed the door, clicking the lock into place before passing him. Thomas followed along, keeping a few feet between him and Duncan, just in case he needed to make a quick break. They passed the bathrooms along the dim hallway before stepping into the light.

  “Wow,” he murmured.

  The interior of the pub—warm and homey—was the exact opposite of the exterior. It was a pleasant surprise. Turning in a circle, Thomas looked around, taking it all in.

  Dark wood paneling covered the walls, industrial light fixtures hung down from a vaulted ceiling, and there was a fireplace in the corner with a sitting area that included leather couches and overstuffed chairs. The snug wooden booths were complemented with worn leather seats just like the barstools. The bar top of shining mahogany gleamed under the light. The mirror on the back wall clearly reflected all the bottles in front of it. The name of the bar, Temple, painted on the glass was faded, as if it had been there for years. Thomas could tell that this place was loved by its owner and well used by the patrons.

  “Niall,” Duncan called out. “Bring me a couple towels and a dry shirt. The boy’s dripping all over my wood floor.”

  “Right away, boss,” the bartender said.

  “What’s your name?” Duncan asked.

  “Thomas Doyle.”

  “Why don’t you go sit by the fire, Thomas? I’ll join you in a moment.”

  “Okay.”

  Leaving Duncan’s side, Thomas made his way to the other side of the pub. He kept his head down, trying not to draw any unwanted attention from the others. As he passed, a few of the men made whispered comments, but Thomas pretended not to hear them.

  “Looks like the boss brought home another stray.”

  “He’s a cute lad.”

  “Definitely Duncan’s type.”

  Thomas ground his teeth together as jealousy reared its ugly head. How many men had his mate been with? He wanted to lash out but refrained. It didn’t really matter anyway. This was all temporary. He had to keep reminding himself why he was here.

  When he reached the corner of the pub, Thomas put the puppy down on the tiles. He quickly removed his backpack and jacket, hanging them up on the black metal screen in front of the fire to dry. Crossing his arms over his chest, Thomas leaned in close. Warmth instantly surrounded him, the heat from the flames burrowing into his chilled skin.

  “Here.” Duncan held out two towels and a long-sleeved T-shirt. “For you and the beast.”

  “Puppy,” Thomas corrected, taking the towels from Duncan’s outstretched hand.

  “Puppy.” He smiled. Duncan’s whole face seemed to transform, his harsh features smoothing out.

  Why does he have to be so beautiful? Thomas dropped one of the towels and the T-shirt onto the nearest chair and knelt down. He enfolded the soft cotton material around the puppy, rubbing it over his gray and white fur. He left the little guy on the floor in front of the fireplace, the towel loosely wrapped around him. The little thing yawned and closed his eyes, quickly falling asleep.

  “If only life could be that easy,” Thomas whispered.

  He stood up and pulled off his wet T-shirt, hanging it over the fireplace screen beside his hoodie. He snatched the towel off the chair and started drying off. Thomas glanced at Duncan and caught the man staring at him, his icy blue eyes devouring him. Having Duncan’s undivided attention sent a jolt of awareness rushing through his veins. Thomas slowed down, giving Duncan a little show. He tossed the towel over the chair and picked up the long-sleeved T-shirt and put it on.

  Thomas dropped down into the overstuffed leather chair. “Thank you. I really appreciate you allowing me to stay here.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  He tried to look away from Duncan, but it was impossible. How could he? Duncan was his mate. This was the man he was supposed to spend the rest of his life with. He would mourn the loss later when he had time to feel his heart shatter into tiny pieces. Thomas pushed all of his natural instincts away. Right now, Thomas had a job to do.

  “Tá tú an- dathúil.” You are very handsome.

  A slow smile spread across Duncan’s lips. “Angus tá tú iomlán de surprises.” And you are full of surprises.

  “Tá mé cúpla.” I’ve got a few.

  Duncan chuckled. “When did you arrive in Ireland?”

  “Today.” He didn’t see any reason to lie.

  “Where are you staying?”

  “I don’t know yet.”

  “Where is your luggage?”

  “This trip wasn’t really planned. I needed a break from my life so I ran away from home.”

  “You ran away from home?”

  “Yes, but don’t worry, I’m eighteen. I’m legal.”

  Forcing himself to look away from Duncan, he stared into the fire, watching the flames dance. “You never told me your name.”

  “Duncan Ó Branagáin.”

  “Well, Duncan,” Thomas said with a sigh, “I need to find a place to stay for the night.” It was getting late. He didn’t want to leave his mate’s side, but he didn’t have a choice.

  “Are you hungry?”

  Thomas smiled. “You provide warmth and food?”

  “This is a full-service place.”

  “Then it’s a good thing that you found me.”

  Chapter Three

  Duncan Ó Branagáin couldn’t take his eyes off the vision of beauty in front of him. With short copper-colored hair, cornflower blue eyes, and an angelic face, Thomas Doyle was without a doubt the most striking young man Duncan had ever seen. Duncan needed to possess him and not just for a night. He wanted to spend days tasting every inch of Thomas’s skin, exploring and touching. He had to know if the man’s skin was a soft as it looked.

  Glancing toward the bar, he made eye contact with Niall MacLeòid. “Can you bring a bowl of stew to our guest?” Niall was a close friend and ran the day-to-day operation at the pub.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Why does he call you sir?”

  “I’m the boss.”

  “This is your place?”

  “Yes.”

  Thomas pulled his lower lip into his mouth, gently biting down on the meaty flesh. He was silent for a moment as if mulling something over. “Would you give me a job?”

  “You want to work for me?”

  “I don’t know.” Thomas shrugged his shoulders, trying to appear as though he didn’t care either way, but for some reason, Duncan knew this was important to him. “I’m not sure how long I’m staying. I bought a one-way ticket, and since this trip wasn’t exactly planned out, I don’t have a lot of cash.”

  “I’m sure I could find you something to do.”

  Thomas smiled. “Really?”

  “Do you have any work experience?”

  Thomas shook his head. “I’ve never had a job.”

  “You’ve never had a job?”

  “My parents told me that I didn’t need a job while I was going to school. They told me to focus on getting good grades.”

  Duncan had to remind himself that Thomas was only eighteen. “That’s smart. It sounds like you come from a good family.” Thomas’s smile dropped, his eyes turning sad. It was brief, but Duncan noticed the subtle change. “Are you homesick?”

  “Yeah, I guess I am. I feel a little silly admitting that to you. I left home looking for an adventure, but now, I’m having some doubts.”

  “You’re very brave. Leaving home and going out into the world takes a lot of courage, especially since you don’t have any friends or family here. If you want to go home, I’ll get you a plane ticket.” Duncan wasn’t sure where the offer came from. He didn’t want Thomas to leave, not this soon after meeting him, but it seemed like the proper thing to do.

  Thomas shook his head, rejecting Duncan’s offer. “I want to stay.”

  “Sir?” Niall interrupted their conversation. He stood beside Duncan’s chai
r, holding a serving tray.

  “Would you like to move to one of the tables?” Duncan asked.

  “Is it okay if we stay here? I’m finally starting to warm up.”

  “Sure.”

  Niall walked around Duncan’s chair. He held out the tray, and Thomas took it, balancing it carefully on his thighs.

  “Mmm…this smells really good.”

  “It’s Niall’s famous Guinness beef stew.”

  “Thank you, Niall.”

  “You’re welcome,” Niall said before turning on his heel and walking away.

  Thomas picked up the spoon. He dipped it into the bowl of stew and lifted it to his mouth, taking a bite. He moaned, a smile teasing the corner of his lips. Thomas took another bite, then another, eating as if he were starving. Duncan watched him closely, trying to analyze the young man. Thomas seemed to be a contradiction, his body language warring with his words.

  Thomas’s eyes seemed to grow heavier with each bite until he finally yawned. He dropped the spoon back onto the tray as if he couldn’t hold the implement up any longer. Duncan rose from his chair. He took hold of the tray and lifted it off Thomas’s lap.

  “Why don’t you grab your stuff? You can come home with me. I’ve got a guest room.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Duncan nodded. He left Thomas by the fire and strode toward the bar. Placing the tray on the shiny top, he tapped his knuckles against the surface, getting Niall’s attention.

  “Do you need anything before I head out?”

  “You have a meeting at the dockyard in the morning. Danny and Liam will provide security from afar.” Meaning they would be watching over him with sniper rifles. “Miles, Patrick, and Colin will be there to inspect the shipping containers.”

  “I’ll be there.”

  “What about your new friend?” Niall asked, tilting his head toward Thomas.