The Red Cross of Gold I:. The Knight of Death Read Free Page A

eye. "I liked
Anthony and you ran him off. You run all of my prospects off. It's
just because you're jealous, but you promised, Cecile. My clock is
ticking and I want a baby before it's too late."
    Cecile put down her paper again, this time
slapping it on the table hard enough to cause the dishes to
jump.
    “Look!” she said angrily. “This Knight of
Death will be here soon and maybe he will be suitable. I'll have to
talk him into thinking that Anthony will be back somehow… I don't
know. I'll figure it out. Anyhow, I'll get him to stay for a few
days. If he looks promising, then maybe you can hook up with him.
Think of it, Merry! Immortality! If we can get to the Grand Master
through this guy and…"
    Merry sobbed in earnest and pressed her hands
against her eyes.
    Cecile got up and went around the table in
defeat. She patted Merry’s shoulder in an awkward attempt to
comfort her, as she continued to cry into her napkin. The younger
woman blew her nose loudly and Cecile cringed.
    “All right,” she relented. “I’ll tell you
what. If he’s ugly or… or… OK, look. Let me check him out first and
we'll see. Stop crying. You know I hate it when you cry. It’s so…
messy.”
    "I want to make the choice, Cecile," Merry
said. "You just don't understand!"
    "I understand that you are a spoiled rotten
child and I waste my time trying to do anything for you!"
    When her words brought more tears and more
nose-blowing, she rolled her eyes and bent over the blond curls,
planting a kiss in the midst of the fluff. She suppressed the urge
to say something she would regret and forced a softer tone.
    “Won’t you go on upstairs and take a bubble
bath? Maxie has it all worked out. He'll be coming in from DFW this
afternoon. Maybe you and Maxie can drive out and follow him back
here. Make sure he doesn't get lost?"
    "Really? Maxie can't be that good," Merry
frowned up at her. "He's stupid."
    "Maxie knows people at DFW. And I have my own
connections. You don't think I've searched for these people for so
long without results, do you? It was no accident that we ran into
Anthony on that cruise, sweetie."
    “Oh. What does he look like?” Merry looked up
at her, wiping at her eyes. “How will we know it’s him?”
    “OK,” Cecile’s features changed to one of
relief and she sat down next to the blond, taking her hands in her
own. “Here’s what I’ve been told. He’s six foot two, dark blue
eyes, black hair. Supposed to be long according to Anthony and he’s
an outdoorsy type, you know? He’s supposed to be Scottish, but I
doubt he’ll be wearing a kilt.” Cecile attempted to make a joke,
but Merry nodded again, missing it. “He reserved a black El Dorado
at the airport in Dallas. Anthony says he likes black. Wears it all
the time, apparently. You can’t miss him. Oh, and he’ll be wearing
the rings I told you about, but I doubt you’ll get close enough to
see them.”
    “But won't he be dangerous? You say he is an
assassin.” Merry was still not satisfied. She was never
satisfied.
    “He is,” Cecile told her matter-of-factly.
Her ever-changing face quickly showed signs of reverting to anger.
“Maxie can handle it. Now go on upstairs and I’ll be up
shortly.”
    Merry allowed the woman to pull her from the
chair and push her toward the patio doors.
    Merry stopped on the stairs and looked back
toward the patio. If she was going to have her way, she would have
to act fast. If this so-called immortal had prospects, she would
just have to take matters in her own hands. Cecile just fucked
things up every time she found someone suitable for a father for
her child. Maybe not this time. She hurried to her room and
rummaged through the desk drawers for Cecile's personal journal. It
was where Cecile kept all her notes about the elusive Templars.
    ((((((((((((()))))))))))))
    Blood trickled down the side of Mark Andrew
Ramsay’s face, mingling with the perspiration staining the collar
of his once neatly pressed white