Betrayal

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Betrayal Page 11

by Jennifer Blackstream


  “I don’t appreciate people undoing my work,” Crystal said flatly.

  “Does that mean you’ll investigate?” I asked hopefully.

  She tilted her head, considering. “Is he a danger to himself or others?”

  “It sounds like he might be a danger to me,” I said bitterly.

  “You’re a witch and he’s a human, I’m not worried about you. You saw him. Does he seem to be suffering?” Crystal pressed.

  I started to say he was working for Marilyn, so if he wasn’t suffering now, he would be. But then I thought of how he’d looked. Clean. Well fed. And he was employed. “He seems fine. For now,” I admitted.

  “Then he is not a priority. But I will look in on him. If I believe his situation warrants my intervention, then I will take care of it.” She paused, then added, “In the meantime, I’d suggest you find out which of your enemies may have decided to use Simon against you. And why.”

  Without any further ado, the piorum stood. She gave me a final nod in farewell, then left without so much as a backward glance. I slumped down in the booth.

  “Isn’t it against some sort of Vanguard law to undo her work like that?” Andy asked. “I mean, if it took as much effort as she said for someone to remind Simon of you, then they had to know how much effort she put into erasing you. Can people just get away with that?”

  I sighed. “You heard Crystal. She wanted to know first and foremost if Simon was in trouble. If I wanted whoever did this punished, I’d have to prove they did it, then prove that it caused damage when they did.”

  Andy’s face darkened. “So it’s not a crime. The big, bad law enforcement agency you’re always so afraid of is just going to sit there and take it?”

  I rubbed my fingers into my temples, trying to ease the headache I could feel forming. “That big, bad law enforcement agency doesn’t step in for every little violation. They’re there to make sure Otherworlders don’t set themselves up as gods, end civilizations, start religions. Simon was elfstruck, and he was in a bad way, so they sent someone to help him. Now someone undid it, but then apparently took steps to make sure he was all right. The Vanguard wouldn’t be happy—as you saw Crystal wasn’t—but they have a huge caseload, and this is just not going to be a high priority.”

  Andy didn’t say anything more, but he looked pissed. I didn’t know if it was professional consideration—as an FBI agent, he didn’t like someone skirting the law like that—or if he was thinking of Simon.

  “Everything all right?” Alexandra asked, approaching the table with the caution of someone afraid of interrupting.

  I tried to smile, and failed. “Could I get a refill on my Coke, please?”

  “Of course.”

  A thought occurred to me, and I sat up straighter. “Alexandra, do you know an Unseelie sidhe named Morgan? Works at the museum? Black hair, bird eyes?”

  Andy looked at me, but I kept my attention on Alexandra. I knew he thought Morgan was harmless, but I disagreed. And she was one of the few who knew about Simon and about Marilyn’s auctions. I wasn’t sure if she knew about my relationship with Simon, but it was possible. If she had, then I was adding her to my suspect list.

  Alexandra shifted her weight to her other foot and gave me an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, I can’t talk about our other patrons. Neutrality and all. Can’t take sides, can’t gossip.” She looked around, then leaned closer. “After all, if I started gossiping and throwing information around, then we’d be no better than Nightcap.”

  Nightcap was another establishment in Cleveland that catered to Otherworlders. But where Goodfellows was an established neutral space, protected from conflict, and a dedicated sanctuary, Nightcap was…not. It wasn’t the sort of place nice witches went. And it wasn’t a place nice humans left.

  “I understand,” I said, finishing off my Coke.

  “You know how it is there,” Alexandra added.

  I half-expected her to waggle her eyebrows. She was being weird. “I don’t go—”

  “Nothing but gossip, gossip, gossip,” Alexandra pressed. “With the right offer, you could find out anything about anyone. And they’d just tell you. Right there.”

  Understanding finally dawned. “I see.”

  “’Bout time,” Peasblossom muttered. “Thought she was going to have to spell it out for you.”

  My phone rang, and I abandoned my withering glare at her to answer. “Hello?”

  “Shade?”

  It was Morgan. I couldn’t help but look around, half-expecting the sidhe woman to be sitting at a table right beside me. It could have been a coincidence, but it was unnerving to get a call from the Unseelie right after asking about her. I gripped the phone tighter. “Yes?”

  “It’s the cup, the one you were asking about.” Morgan took a deep breath. “It’s been stolen.”

  Chapter 8

  “You!” Vazkasi snarled.

  I screeched to an abrupt halt at the entrance to the section of the Cleveland Art Museum labeled “Heaven’s Treasures,” and Peasblossom squeaked as she almost fell off my shoulders. Vazkasi glared at me, eyes burning a deep gold reminiscent of pirate treasure seen by firelight. The entire section had been shut down, and without any patrons passing by, the dragon had opted to forgo his glamour. The light from the various displays made the scaly patches on his face and neck glow as he stormed toward me, black-clawed hand outstretched.

  Andy rushed to put himself in front of me when Vazkasi charged. The gesture caught me by surprise. Andy was usually careful to stand beside me, supportive, but not overprotective. This was new.

  I stepped to the side, refusing to hide behind him. I could handle Vazkasi if I had to. But I didn’t think I would.

  “Vazkasi!” Morgan said sharply. “Control yourself, or I’ll have to tell Marilyn you’re no longer suited to working in public areas.”

  The dragon didn’t slow down, but when he reached me, he halted, glowering without laying a hand on me. “She’ss working with the wizard. She did thiss!”

  “Calm. Down.” Morgan skirted around the dragon, giving me a tense but apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, Mother Renard. Vazkasi is—”

  “Do not apologize for me,” the dragon growled. “Never in my life hass a thief made off with treasure in my possession. Not in sseven hundred yearss!”

  Andy smoothed his hands down his suit jacket, tugging at the bottom to smooth the lines and then touching his pocket where his notepad and pen rested. By the time he spoke, he sounded like his old self.

  “Tell me exactly what happened.” He slipped the notebook out of his pocket and opened it with an expert flick of his wrist. “Start from when we left this morning.”

  “An hour after you left, I received a call from Marilyn,” Morgan spoke up. “She told me Jim Givens called her and asked to inspect the cup a second time. He said he’d gotten new information, and he wanted to reevaluate the piece.”

  “If he learned anything new, it was from you,” Vazkasi accused. “What did you tell him that made him assk for the cup? Did you promisse to share the profit after you ssold it? Did you threaten him?”

  “I went to see Jim because I hoped he could use the cup to locate the stolen bowl,” I said calmly. “He said he would try. That was the extent of our interaction.”

  Andy paused with his pen hovering over his notepad. “Jim said he would call Marilyn to see the cup again.”

  “And she agreed,” Morgan confirmed. “So I brought Vazkasi in here with me, and I removed the warding on the cup. I passed it over to him, then escorted him to one of our armored trucks. He left for Jim’s.”

  “You have armored trucks?” I asked, surprised.

  “No, she doessn’t. The truck belongs to my company. The museum has usse of it while I am on duty, it’ss part of our ssecurity package.”

  “You have your own company?” Andy wrote that down, then looked to Morgan when he jabbed his pen at Vazkasi. “So he’s not a permanent employee, he’s freelance?”

 
“That’s right,” Morgan confirmed.

  “Did anyone besides the two of you touch the cup?” I asked. “Was anyone else in the room when you removed it from the case?”

  “There were a few patrons,” Morgan said. “As I mentioned earlier, this is one of our most popular exhibits. But no one was close enough to touch the cup, or steal it.”

  “Was Simon in the room?” I asked.

  Vazkasi took a step closer, and his large shadow fell over me like a storm cloud. “Why do you assk about Ssimon? Why are you sso interessted in him?”

  “Vazkasi, I’m sure Mother Renard has reasons for her questions,” Morgan said sharply. “Now please, do not interrupt again.” She looked back at me. “No, Simon was not in the room.”

  Andy nodded and made a note. I thought he underlined it a little enthusiastically, and I felt a flash of annoyance at the pettiness of it.

  “All right, so you took it to Jim’s,” I said to the dragon. “What happened then?”

  “I left it with the wizard,” Vazkasi growled. “Then I came back here. I’d barely had time to park the truck when he called to tell me he’d finished the analyssiss. I drove back and assked for the report. The little coward gave me the cup, but told me he needed to finalize hiss report before he could ssend it, and ssaid he’d call when he was ready to fax it over.”

  “Did you meet him when he came back with the cup?” Andy asked Morgan.

  Morgan wrung her hands. “I met him when he returned, but he didn’t have the cup. Not exactly.”

  “What do you mean, not exactly?” Andy asked.

  “The cup I returned with wass a fake,” Vazkasi seethed. “That wizard called Marilyn while I wass on my way back. She and Morgan met me at the door, and she demanded to ssee the cup. That’ss when she told me the wizard had announced it wass a fake.”

  “She had me put it back,” Morgan said, gesturing behind her at the case with the fake chalice. “Our human patrons won’t know the difference. But she is…upset.”

  “The wizard iss lying,” Vazkasi insisted. “I brought him the real cup. He obvioussly sstole the real one and ssent thiss forgery back insstead.”

  “Why would he tell you it was a fake if he was trying to steal the real one?” Andy asked reasonably.

  I frowned. “It would have been discovered eventually. This way he could pretend he was the one to discover the crime.”

  “He’s also the obvious suspect,” Andy pointed out.

  “I will get the truth,” Vazkasi promised.

  “Is it possible that the chalice was stolen before today?” Andy asked. “Could the chalice we were looking at earlier have been fake?”

  “I couldn’t swear to it one way or the other,” Morgan admitted. “Even if I could sense magic, the artifacts themselves didn’t have any that we knew of. Nothing intrinsic anyway.”

  “No thief could have gotten passt me,” Vazkasi interjected. “I am telling you, the wizard sswitched the artifactss. He iss the thief!”

  “May I see the fake chalice?” I asked Morgan.

  I thought she’d say no, but Morgan surprised me by walking over and lifting the glass case. She set it on the floor and gestured to the golden cup. “Be my guest.”

  I stepped forward, flexing my magic as I did so. No answering flicker of magic met the silver tendrils of energy I sent out. It was just a hunk of gold.

  “I’ll need to dust for fingerprints.” I looked at Morgan. “I’ll need yours. For elimination purposes.”

  “Absolutely.” Morgan gave the dragon a stern look. “Vazkasi, they’ll need yours as well.”

  The dragon made a sound that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up, but he didn’t argue.

  “My fingerprints and Vazkasi’s are both on file,” Morgan rushed to add.

  “Email them to this address,” Andy said, pulling a card from the small case he kept in one of his inner jacket pockets and scribbling an email address on the back.

  Morgan accepted the card. “I’ll send them now.”

  “Do you have Simon’s prints too?” I asked.

  Vazkasi glared at me, but Morgan just shook her head.

  “Since his job doesn’t involve secure areas, we don’t require his fingerprints for employment. The only way he could touch any of the displays would be with Marilyn’s permission.”

  “I’ll still need his prints,” I said seriously.

  Morgan nodded. “He should return later this evening. I can call you when he arrives?”

  “Thank you.”

  I looked back at the chalice, studying it. I wasn’t ready to touch it, not yet. Jim hadn’t seemed like the sort of vigilante wizard that went around killing humans to obtain objects he knew were cursed, but I wasn’t ready to bet my life on it. If Jim was that sort, then he could have put any number of nasty spells on this chalice. He’d have to know I’d be examining it, that I might touch it. My detection spell hadn’t picked anything up, but if Jim was as powerful as his wards suggested, he could have hidden a spell from me. Or a curse requiring a different detection method altogether.

  Andy took a step back, angling his body so both Morgan and Vazkasi were in his line of sight. “You said Jim did a complete evaluation of the chalice before.”

  “Yes,” Morgan said carefully.

  “Was Marilyn the only one privy to his results, or did she share that information with you?”

  “Marilyn only shares information she believes I need to know to do my job,” Morgan answered. “As I’ve mentioned, our relationship is not overflowing with trust.”

  Vazkasi was frowning too. He rolled his neck, tendons popping as they released pent up stress. When he spoke, his voice didn’t hold the same angry sibilance. “As it is with me. Marilyn trusts me to protect her inventory, but there is no love lost between her kind and mine.”

  Andy’s gaze sharpened. I realized a split second too late what was coming next.

  “Did either of you know the chalice was cursed?”

  Morgan didn’t react, but Vazkasi’s golden eyes bulged. “Curssed?” he roared.

  And the sibilance was back. I winced and looked behind us, hoping none of the patrons passing by had heard the bellowing reptile.

  “Arrogant fey,” he snarled, smoke curling from his nostrils. He snorted and hurled himself into violent pacing. “She would withhold ssuch information. No wonder the wizard sstole it.” He flung a hand in the direction of the display case. “We never had the real cup after that firsst evaluation. I’ll bet that coward sstole it back then. Probably never ssent the real one back, kept it locked away ‘for the greater good.’”

  He came to an abrupt halt and jabbed a finger at Morgan. “That’ss why he wass sso keen to help the witch. All thiss time he musst have known we would disscover hiss theft, and now he hass the perfect patssy. I’ll have hiss hide for thiss!” He hurled himself toward the room’s only exit.

  “Glamour!” Morgan shouted.

  The dragon muttered under his breath, but he dropped a hand to the hex bag tied to his belt. By the time he crossed the threshold, he looked human again.

  A large, angry human.

  “Well, that went well.” Morgan sighed and rubbed her temples.

  I stared after the dragon. I couldn’t help but wonder if he’d stormed off because he was angry at the wizard, or if he wanted to get away from me and Andy. Anger was often a grand mask for guilt.

  “I’m going to go get those files for you,” Morgan told Andy. “Is there anything else I can do to be of help?”

  She swayed forward as she spoke, not quite getting into Andy’s personal space, but getting close enough to draw his gaze to hers. His eyes snapped up as if they’d been drawn by magnets, and his pen stopped its scribbling.

  “No, thank you,” I said, my voice louder than I’d intended. “We need to follow a few more leads, and we really should try to find Jim before Vazkasi does. But we’ll be in touch.”

  Morgan stared at me as if I’d sprouted horns. “Find him? But—


  “Thank you for your time,” I interrupted, giving her one last, big smile before dragging Andy out of the room. “Scath, come on. Majesty looks like he’s getting…tired.”

  Morgan tensed, and she jumped nearly a foot in the air when the large black cat slunk past her to leave the room. I was willing to bet she hadn’t seen Scath enter since the sidhe had decided to creep in while Morgan was talking to Andy. I didn’t know why Scath was toying with Morgan.

  But I was fine with it.

  It was obvious from the pulsing vein in his temple that Andy had some thoughts about being evicted from the museum before he was ready. But he was kind enough to wait until we’d reached the parking lot before he said anything.

  “I don’t understand why you won’t accept her help,” he said, ripping his car keys out of his pocket. “She’s been nothing but helpful.”

  “You obviously don’t notice the way she stares at Scath,” I retorted.

  “She didn’t even notice her until we left.”

  “I mean before.”

  I glanced down at the sidhe woman as she launched her huge feline form into Andy’s backseat. Scath didn’t look at me, just flopped down onto her side, dropping Majesty into the footwell.

  “She looked like she was trying to figure out how to dissect her,” I finished uneasily.

  “She looks at Scath the same way you do,” Andy argued. “You’re always going on about how scared you are that there’s some dark reason for why she’s following you around. But you always excuse it because she saved your life. Well, Morgan tried to save your life, but you decided being Flint’s slave was the better option.”

  I stopped with my hand on the door handle. “That is not how it happened. I wouldn’t have been in that auction at all if Morgan hadn’t pressed it as an option. And if you’ll remember correctly, she intended to win that auction, and she didn’t. That’s how I ended up with Flint.”

  Andy shook his head and climbed behind the wheel. “It just seems like you don’t have a very organized method or criteria for determining who to trust and who not trust. It’s all about who you think is more trustworthy.”

 

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