by Ann Mayburn
She was stroking my ego, and we both knew it, but that didn’t mean I didn’t like it.
Damn, I really did not want to spend my evening entertaining a bunch of pretentious snobs. I’d done VIP parties before. Junior level museum staff, like myself, were often trotted out for PR and fundraising events. I had more experience giving VIP tours than most because the rich loved their jewelry, and tours of our gem collection were highly requested. Everybody wanted to see the Hope Diamond and hear its tragic tale of woe. I was also the most people friendly among my fellow scientists, so Diana did have a point.
While the majority of the crowd who attended the VIP events were perfectly nice, there were always a few people who looked at me like I was a pile of dog shit on their Persian rug. And let’s not forget the fun of being around men who had too much money and believed they could do whatever they wanted. I’d had more than one set of wayward hands try and cop a feel. The memory of some nasty old Senator pawing at me while I tried to tell him about an exhibit made my stomach lurch.
“Yeah, no thanks.”
“Please,” Diana screeched, drawing even more attention and making me hunch my shoulders. “This is a big deal and I don’t trust anyone but you to do it. If you say no I’ll have to pull in Jared, and you know he’s not a people person. Plus, he has to use note cards. Note. Cards. These are not the kind of people you use note cards in front of, Syn. If you do me this favor, I promise next time you want to go grubbing around in caves and falling down cliffs I’ll go with you.”
I rolled my eyes. “It’s called spelunking and rock climbing. You said you had fun!”
“I did have fun, but that was because of the hot guys climbing next to us.” She made a slicing motion through the air with her hand. “But that’s neither here nor there. You have to help me, seriously. I’m in a bind and I could get in big trouble for not having enough staff there to keep all the muckity-mucks happy.”
“Get up here,” I hauled Diana onto the bench and sighed. “Did you talk to my boss?”
“Yes.” The other woman smiled brightly as she adjusted her skirt. “Dr. Greg said he could spare you for the day. Rumor has it some political bigwigs are going to show up for the event and he knows how important it is that we make a good impression. He said to tell you he’d pay you double time for it.”
While I wasn’t hurting for money, the extra would be nice. My dad had died when I was in junior high and I received a generous life insurance payout, but I tried to keep it as strictly an emergency fund so it could gain interest. You never knew what kind of curveball life could throw at you, and I wanted to be prepared.
I pulled my work flats out from inside my backpack while toeing off my sneakers. “What am I going to wear? My nice dress has a tear in the hem that I need to get repaired…someday.”
“I have a couple gowns you can try on,” Diana said with a smile.
Looking from my modest almost B-cups to her full Cs I raised a brow. “Are you going to give me socks to stuff the chest part with?”
“Stop being so dramatic, but you do have a good point. My cousin runs a vintage thrift store, I’ll find something fabulous for you to wear.” She gave me big, hopeful eyes that were so sweet and innocent I couldn’t help but snort. “So you’ll do it?”
“I’ll do it, but only because you’ll be a huge pain in my ass if I don’t.”
“I love you! You’re the bestest friend ever! Now come on, we need to cram a whole bunch of information into that big brain of yours.”
Seven hours later I found myself dodging groups of museum employees putting the finishing touches on the exhibit, and I had to admire the artistry that went into the event. Vines festooned with sweetly perfumed flowers and ribbons lined all the doorways leading into the room, and there were more flowers displayed throughout. Thanks to a variety of expensive spells, the flowers would stay fresh as the day they were cut for weeks. Each arrangement was placed in the center of a grouping of four cases, forming clear cubes that could be viewed from all sides and from different locations. The objects themselves were arranged by religious grouping and geographical location. It created a maze of sorts, and would force people to take their time and look at what was around them, rather than ignoring the amazing treasures.
There were solid silver, bejeweled spears from Norway, golden jewelry from Brazil, and an astonishing rose quartz altar from ancient India. Jewels flashed everywhere as I wandered among the cubes, checking my notes on my tablet while I worked my way through. It really was a fascinating display, and I found myself getting lost in time as I fell deeper into researching a beautiful snarling raven statue made of black jade. It had been found in a Mongolian tomb and was on loan from a private collection. Most of the items were, and I wondered who’d donated these priceless artifacts. Whoever they were, I was thankful they chose to share their treasures with the world. My distraction proved to be my downfall, because I was reading instead of watching where I was going as I shuffled backwards. Bumping into someone, I lost my balance while trying to juggle my tablet without touching the screen and reaching out to steady whoever I’d plowed into. Instead, I managed to trip over my own feet and landed on my hands and knees with a slight huff. Thankfully, my tablet was okay.
“I’m so sorry,” a woman said with a hint of laughter in her voice. “I didn’t see you coming around the corner. That was quite a fall. Are you all right?”
I looked up to apologize for being so distracted and clumsy, but my breath caught in my throat and my lower belly did a strange twinge that I’d never felt before. The woman smiling at me was arrestingly beautiful. Even though I didn’t find people sexy, I could admire loveliness in all its forms. I appreciated her good looks the same way I would admire a gorgeous flower, or an exquisite painting. Her face was striking, almost perfectly symmetrical with big brown eyes and well-shaped brows. Her nose was wide at the base, but that only balanced out her full lips. Her hair was cut close to her head, perfectly revealing her sharp bone structure. She wore a teal pantsuit that looked designer, and possessed an air of grace about her like nothing I’d ever seen.
She helped me to my feet and I burned with embarrassment, my voice coming out high as I squeaked, “No, it’s my fault. I wasn’t watching where I was going. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” She frowned slightly as she looked at me. “My name is Joven Bissonette, and you are?”
She held her hand out and I took it with a smile, grateful to her for trying to put me at ease. “Synthia Rowley.”
Releasing my hand, she gestured to the ID badge hanging around my neck. “And what are you doing here, Synthia? Do you work for the museum?”
“Yes, I’m one of the curators who will be giving tours tomorrow night at the grand opening.”
Her brow creased. “I’m sorry, but I do not recognize you. Are you a new addition? I don’t recall having seen you before.”
“Oh, no. We haven’t met. I replaced Joya Gallagher, she got the flu.”
“I see,” Joven said in a frosty voice, the smile long gone from her lips. “I am sorry, Synthia, but I am in charge of this exhibit and I haven’t personally vetted you. I cannot allow you to work as a curator tomorrow night. This exhibit is very important. The people attending it are even more so. These may be mere artifacts to you, but to many these are sacred objects of their religion. We cannot have someone unfamiliar and unvetted with the pieces giving tours.”
“But I promise—”
Abruptly her upper lip lifted in a snarl and my heart raced. “Do not make a promise you cannot keep. My people do not take oath breakers lightly. We can smell a lie on you.”
My adrenaline surged and I took a step closer then met her dark gaze head on. “I’m not lying.”
Her nostrils flared and I was near enough to see something fascinating happening in her mahogany irises. The faintest specks of gold seemed to shimmer among the darkness, like gold sparkling in the middle of a field of rich earth. Her gaze widened, and she took another inha
le, this one deeper and her mouth parted slightly. All around us people continued with arranging last minute touches, but I felt like I was alone with Joven as she slowly lowered her gaze. A strange stillness came over her, and it felt like little sparks of electricity were jumping the air between us.
Turning, she took a few steps away and watched me closely. “You may believe you are telling the truth, but it is simply not possible for you to learn an entire exhibit in one afternoon.”
I met her fierce gaze and the oddest flutter went through my gut again, then was gone. “Let me prove myself to you.”
“Pardon me?”
It was suddenly important to me that she trust me, that she believed me when I said I could do it. “Tell me what I can do to set your mind at ease. Seriously, I know this exhibit, just give me a chance.”
Her full lips softened, then parted slightly as her gaze met mine again. “Fine. One chance. I’ll pick an object at random, you tell me about it without using notes.”
“Agreed,” I said with relief.
While I may be a frigid bitch, as one guy I’d turned down in college had so eloquently put it, I did have a great memory. Competition to work for the Smithsonian was fierce and I’d gone through five rounds of intense interviews before I got my job. I was top of my class in college, and I’d always worked my booty off to go after what I wanted. Sure, Ted, a good friend of my family who worked for the museum had brought up my name, but my degrees and my ability to remember facts got me a job here. I wasn’t born into a wealthy or powerful family, and I didn’t have a well-connected husband setting me up with a career. I earned my spot and I never hesitated to prove that I belonged.
A geek to the core, I thrived on mental challenges.
She hesitated as if she wanted to say something, then motioned me to follow her. We wound deeper into the exhibit, going to the rear corner of the room where some of the more primitive items sat. Passing a case filled with arrows, she glanced over her shoulder at me and I again admired her fierce beauty. Walking up to a stone bowl carved to resemble an open flower, she placed her hand over the small placard beneath it and nodded at me.
“Tell me about this bowl.”
I couldn’t help my smug smile as I recited the history of the delicate bowl, going through its initial creation over fourteen hundred years before, and tracing it to today. I also added some information I’d looked up on the Internet about it, including the small tale of a sixteenth century baroness who swore the bowl demanded sacrifices of blood in exchange for eternal youth.
Joven’s respect appeared to grow by the moment, and pride had me standing a little taller. All my life I’ve been underestimated and ignored, so it always felt good to watch people’s opinion of me change once they realized I might actually know what the hell I was talking about. Despite the fact that I was young, female, and felt like I would totally fit in with the guys from the Big Bang Theory TV show. It was nice to be able to hold my own with someone as cool and sophisticated as Joven.
The corner of Joven’s lip twitched, but she kept her expression carefully neutral. “I don’t recall the card mentioning bloody sacrifices.”
“I’ve done a small amount of personal research on the majority of the artifacts. But don’t worry, I’ll keep that part to myself.”
Tilting her head to the side, she looked at me in an odd manner for a moment before motioning to me. “I’m impressed. There are a few pieces added at the last minute. If I tell you about them will you remember the information?”
A hint of anxiety hit me as we wandered through two more cubes before we arrived in an area holding what looked like African animal masks. There were four of them total. A lion, a raven, a bear, and a doglike mask.
It was the canine mask that made my breath catch. Carved of dark gold wood with odd brown spots, the mask depicted the snarling face of what was probably a hyena, complete with real tawny fur surrounding the edges. Enormous fangs had been cleverly inserted into the mask, gleaming white against the wood. The goldstone eyes glowed and sparkled beneath the display lights, and my breath shuddered out of me as I took a step closer. While it wasn’t the most beautiful or well-crafted piece in the exhibit, it was the most fascinating thing I’d ever seen. The longer I stared into the goldstone eyes, the more I swore those sparkles were moving. Chills raced up and down my arms, and I felt as if I’d received a mild shock.
“That’s amazing,” I breathed. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“This,” Joven said, gesturing to the mask, “is Hulinda, the sacred Hyena Queen, favored servant of the Mother Goddess.”
“It’s beautiful,” I murmured as I stepped as close as the display glass would allow. “The eyes are astonishing. I feel like she’s looking at me.”
Joven was quiet long enough that I dragged my gaze away from the mask to find her watching me closely.
Clearing my throat, I took a step back and said, “Ok, I’m ready to hear the history of this piece.”
Her nostrils flared as she took a quick breath, then her voice came out slightly deeper as she said, “Hulinda is one of the Great Mother’s five guardians, dedicated to keeping the balance on Earth. While they are not all powerful and all knowing, they know far more than we do. They work together, trying to maintain the équilibre.”
“What does that mean? It sounds French.”
“Very good.” She smiled, a dimple appearing in one cheek. “It means balance. Good and evil, light and dark, love and hate…they all serve the Goddess’ purpose when working in harmony, in balance.”
“What happens when they’re unbalanced?”
“War,” she said in an unexpectedly dead voice. “Rape, murder, torture and death. Chaos and anarchy, the antithesis of équilibre.”
The spit dried up in my mouth and I rubbed my arms to ward off a shiver. “That sounds terrible. So how does Hulinda help keep the balance?”
“She is the assassin, or hunter if you will, of the Mother Goddess and the guardian of the element of Earth. She is the den mother, who watches over the weak and innocent, keeping them safe from the evils of the world. Hulinda also keeps an eye on the outcasts, those who have no place to call home. She is a compassionate goddess who answers the call of all shifters, not just the hyenas.”
I gave a low whistle. “Well, that’s pretty badass, but I like it. She’s kind of the patron demi-goddess of nerds and geeks-huh?”
Joven laughed, her voice husky yet sweet. “Yes, I believe she is. The great Queen, as Hulinda is known, likes clever people so I believe she would have a fondness for nerds and geeks. But do not dismiss her because of the gentle side of her nature. Hulinda is a fierce warrior who will fight to the death for her people. She is tenacious, and will never give up. That is why the other gods fear her. She may not be the strongest, or the fastest, or the most beautiful, but she never gives up.”
“This is so interesting,” I said with an excited breath. “The goldstone used for the eyes, does it have any symbolic meaning?”
She paused, her gaze flickering to mine before she turned away. “It’s just decorative. Do you have any other questions?”
“About a million. I’ve read some stuff on shifters, but it’s so hard to tell truth from fiction. The shifters seem to keep their culture pretty private. There wasn’t much ‘direct from the source’ information, mostly gossip. Not like the witches, they love the spotlight.”
Joven’s lips pursed tight before she said, “The witches are treated differently because people still view them as being human. Believe me when I say they are not. Yet shifters are seen by some people as nothing more than objects to be used and abused. Can you blame the shifters for wishing to remain private? There are parts of the world where they are still hunted like prize trophies. And before you say it can’t happen here, I would like to remind you that at one time the Smithsonian Institute had stuffed and mounted shifters in their own private viewing gallery. Men, women, and children killed, skinned, then put on display for people to
gawk at.”
The lights dimmed, then grew bright again and Joven took a deep breath before slowly releasing it.
I reached out and put my hand on the other woman’s surprisingly strong shoulder. There was nothing I could say to make it better. The only thing I could do was be there for this stranger who was clearly hurting.
She gave my hand a pat after a moment, then stepped away. “I’m sorry. It—I apologize for my outburst. Now then, where were we?”
I scrambled for a question that would lead us to safer emotional waters. “Are there shifter temples dedicated to Hulinda or anything like that? I’ve never heard of any, but I’m not particularly religious and my hometown of Fairfax isn’t exactly a hotbed of shifter activity.”
“There are some temples, but far less than there used to be.” Joven looked away as she began to slowly walk around the room, disappearing behind a display of white flowers before coming into view again. “Many hyena shifters have lost faith in the old gods.”
“Why?”
She paused before the mask of the raven with its sparkling amethyst eyes. “A million reasons. Modern times make blind faith hard, and the hyenas do not have the easiest of lives. Do you know anything about shifters?”
Giving a stiff shrug, I shook my head. “No, not really. I mean I know a little bit, but shifters usually keep to themselves and stay in their towns. I never really got the chance to know any. Honestly, I don’t know much about them.” I gave her an embarrassed smile. “I’ve seen a couple movies about them—but I’m not sure how ummm….accurate they are.”
A hint of life sparked gold in her eyes, chasing away the lingering sorrow as she grinned. “Let me guess, you’ve seen those god-awful bear shifter romance movies. What are they called? A Primal Passion? The sweeping love story of three dumb as tree stumps bear shifters who manage to make vapid young females fall for their muscles? What do their fans call them again? The yummy something?”
