Page 57 of Legacy's Destiny

Watching them, Echo felt a pang of longing. The way Gabriel looked at Anna, and how their love seemed to radiate between them, was exactly what she desired with Deacon. She glanced up at him and found him gazing at her with an expression so tender it took her breath away. Maybe, just maybe, they already had it.

As the elevator doors closed, Echo leaned into Deacon. “Your mom is an amazing and wonderful woman.”

Ronan snorted beside her. “My mom is really a handful,” he said with a laugh. “But yeah, we love her. She’s always been therefor us and for Dad. She’s a source of strength and a true force of nature.”

The reverence in his tone was unmistakable. Then, almost absentmindedly, Ronan added, “That’s what I want for Fleur and me.”

Echo’s eyes widened in surprise, and she turned to look at Ronan. “Who’s that? You mentioned her before.”

“My lady, Fleur Buchanan,” he said simply, his voice softening. “We met on a mission in Syria. She was working at an NGO camp. An NGO is?—”

“Non-governmental organization,” Echo interjected. “Yeah, I got that. What was she doing in Syria? Was she working at the refugee camps?”

Ronan nodded. “Exactly. Only this one had several issues, most of which were made worse by some major criminals who’d worked their way into the camp leadership. She’s back in the States now, taking over running the administrative end supporting the nonprofit organizations and charities Guardian contributes to. It’s a substantial amount of work, but she’s learning it. Mom used to oversee everything, Gabby took it over, and now, Fleur has the helm.”

They walked down the hotel’s quiet, lushly carpeted hallway, the muted lighting casting a soft glow on the dark wood-paneled walls. The rich scent of polished wood and fresh-cut flowers lingered in the air, starkly contrasting the damp jungle they’d left behind. The trio stopped in front of Ronan’s door.

“What time is the outbrief tomorrow?” Ronan asked, his hand resting on the doorknob.

Deacon glanced at his watch and let out a deep yawn, his exhaustion evident. “Zero-eight hundred, which means we need to turn in and get some sleep. When I say it’s been a long day, I mean it’s been a long motherfucking day.”

Echo looked up at him, her own weariness reflected in her eyes, and nodded. “All right, how about we hook up for lunch?” Ronan suggested.

“Sounds like a plan.” Deacon pulled his brother into a brief, brotherly hug, slapping his back affectionately. “See you then.”

Ronan nodded and disappeared into his suite, the soft click of the door closing behind him. Deacon and Echo continued down the hallway to her room, the quiet hum of the hotel almost lulling them to sleep right there. Echo handed him her keycard, and he slid it into the reader, opening the door with a faint beep. He paused at the doorway, glancing at her as she stepped inside.

“Aren’t you coming in?” she asked, turning to face him.

He stepped inside, closing the door firmly and sliding the bolt into place. “I wasn’t joking,” he said, his tone half-serious, half-playful. “We really do need to sleep. And we don’t seem to do much of that when we’re in the same bed.”

Echo yawned so wide her jaw cracked, shaking her head as she stretched. “I’m so tired right now. Sleep is the only thing I’m going to do. You’re welcome to come with me. Sleep. That’s it.” Her words ended in another yawn, followed by a whole-body shiver, making Deacon chuckle softly.

“Fine, you’ve convinced me,” he said, his voice low and warm as he followed her into the room. The suite was dimly lit, the thick curtains drawn against the city lights outside. The room’s soft beige tones were soothing, with plush bedding on the king-sized bed and a faint lavender scent from the hotel’s signature linen spray.

Echo wasted no time removing her clothes and tossing them onto a chair before sinking into the cool, inviting sheets. Deacon followed suit, folding his slacks and shirt with the practiced efficiency of someone accustomed to packing quickly. He slipped into bed behind her, pulling her back against his chest as she adjusted her pillow.

His arms wrapped around her securely. His warmth next to her felt familiar, safe, and so right. She sighed, contented, and relaxed for the first time that day. He adjusted his legs, aligning their bodies perfectly, and kissed the top of her head.

Safe, warm, and enveloped in his arms, it took only moments before Echo drifted off to sleep.

CHAPTER 17

Deacon and Echo walked down the hallway toward the conference room where Flanagan was waiting. The plush carpeting muffled their footsteps, and the polished wood-paneled walls reflected the soft, ambient lighting of the upscale hotel. Once again, two men stood as silent sentinels outside the door. Their suits were immaculate, and their postures rigid. Deacon handed over his cell phone without a word. Echo didn’t have one to surrender—her device had been lost during the flood or somewhere between the mountain's bottom and top.

The door opened, revealing a sleek, minimalist conference room. A long mahogany table dominated the space, surrounded by high-backed leather chairs—the faint aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the clean scent of the air conditioning. Supervisory Officer Timothy Flanagan rose as they entered, extending his hand to Echo and then Deacon.

“Coffee?” Flanagan offered.

“Oh, God, yes,” Echo said with a weary smile as she approached the sideboard where a tray of coffee, cream, and sugar awaited. She glanced back at Deacon, who offered her a subtle nod. They would’ve been late for the meeting if Clickhadn’t checked on him this morning. The man’s voice had startled him awake. He looked at the clock and roused Echo. Neither of them had set an alarm, and it was seven-thirty when Click had reached out to him. They’d had thirty minutes to shower and get ready to meet Flanagan, which meant they could only use the instant brew pod coffee in the room.

Pouring two cups of black coffee, Echo returned to the table, set one in front of him, then sank into the chair beside him. She blew on her coffee before taking a tentative sip, the steam curling upward. She sighed in appreciation of the flavor before leaning forward again. “Were we able to save the officers in question?” Echo asked, her voice steady but her eyes searching. She raised an eyebrow, waiting for Flanagan’s response.

The officer’s face turned somber. “Yes, all but one. We have no information on his location or status.”

Echo deflated beside Deacon, her shoulders sagging as she set her cup down. Closing her eyes, she rubbed her forehead. “Is that a result of the equipment theft or the time it took us to recover it?”

“Honestly, we can’t say either event influenced it,” Flanagan admitted. “The officer hadn’t been in contact before the equipment was stolen, so there’s no way to link his disappearance to either event. Since he was working in Syria and with the government collapse, we’re assuming recent regional instability could have played a role in his disappearance. We’ve sent someone in to look for him.”

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