by Jasmine Walt
Once in the pick-up area in front of the hotel, I spotted a burly man dressed in a suit waiting for us outside a black, luxury sedan. He inclined his shaved head as we approached.
“Good evening, Mr. Anderson,” the man said in a Russian accent. He opened the door for us, and I caught a glimpse of a gun holstered at his belt as his suit jacket shifted. Jesus. Just what the hell kind of chauffer was this? But as I got inside the car, I noticed a driver already sitting up front. Who was this guy, then? A body guard?
Maddock got in on the other side, his big body filling up all the extra space despite the roomy interior. His leg pressed against mine, sending heat through my body the way it always did when we were this close. It was the worst kind of feeling, because I loved how it felt and I hated that I felt it.
The car door slammed, and complete silence descended on us. The man who’d greeted us joined the driver up front, and we rolled away.
Curious, I opened my mouth to ask Maddock what the deal with this guy was, but he shot me a warning look, then made a sealing motion across his lips and cut his gaze to the men up front.
Got it. So we weren’t supposed to talk around these guys.
Sighing, I settled back into my seat, determined to relax. If Maddock was comfortable, there was nothing to fear. Or at least nothing he couldn’t handle. I did wish I could bring my weapons on these outings, but there was no good place on my body to hide them while wearing these outfits. And besides, these seemed like the kind of people who would have you searched before you set foot inside their boss’s property.
The drive was some two hours long, the black car taking us out of the city and up into the mountains. At some point, I dozed off, then woke abruptly as the car came to a stop. My door opened, and I let out a huge sigh of relief as the bodyguard dude helped me from the car. I walked around the car to join Maddock, enjoying the ability to move about again, and took a look at our destination.
We were standing in the roundabout in front of a huge mansion that was surrounded by a whole lot of nothing. I could pick out the silhouette of a tree line off in the distance, and I guessed that the mansion sat on about five acres of property, seemingly in the middle of a forest. Behind me, the paved road stretched down a hill and off into nothingness, with lights of a city twinkling in the distance. It was pretty here—far enough from the city that the sky wasn’t affected by light pollution, allowing us to actually see the stars overhead.
“The Navalnys enjoy their privacy,” Maddock said as he tucked my arm into his.
I couldn’t help but be grateful for the heat radiating off his body as he pressed me against his side—I was wearing a coat, but it was colder than I found enjoyable. Not cold enough for my breath to frost, but enough for gooseflesh to ripple up my neck, which was exposed since I’d styled my hair into a sleek up do for the evening.
The Navalnys, I reminded myself, going over what Maddock had told me about our hosts as he led me up the carpeted steps and through the huge double doors of the entrance way. The doors were open to the cool night air, golden light spilling out to greet us along with some classical Russian music.
A servant took our coats, then directed us up the staircase that ascended directly from the center of the foyer before splitting off in two directions. I could already see guests hanging out in the mezzanine area, wine glasses dangling from their fingertips as they leaned against the railing and chattered amongst themselves. Like the last party we went to, these people were dripping in wealth…but unlike the last party, almost all of these people were human.
Heads swiveled in our direction as we passed these people, and a few eyes lit in unpleasant recognition as they saw Maddock. He ignored them, so I did too, but my neck prickled with awareness as we headed into the ballroom.
Were these people here to steal the artifact as well, or did they just know and dislike Maddock? The second option seemed more plausible since they were humans, but then again, I couldn’t make assumptions. The Navalnys were human, too, according to Maddock. I couldn’t rule out that a human would be just as eager to get their hands on the item.
The ballroom was a grand, open space, with glossy floors, high ceilings, and a stage toward the back where a live orchestra played. Buffet tables lined a far wall, piled high with caviar and other appetizers I didn’t recognize, with an ice sculpture of a praying mantis as the centerpiece. I bristled at the oddity of it, averting my gaze to take in the rest of the room.
Round dining tables with white linen cloths were occupied by patrons who chatted amongst themselves while they ate. Even the dance floor was packed, and unease filled me at the sight of the dancing couples—I’d been clubbing in my youth, but I didn’t have any experience gliding around a ballroom floor like these people seemed to be doing.
“Just follow my lead,” Maddock murmured, his lips hovering near my ear. His heather and wood smoke scent surrounded me, and I had to stop myself from inhaling deeply. “Ye’ll be fine.”
“Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. Anderson,” purred a woman with the same heavy Russian accent as the others we’d encountered so far.
I hadn’t noticed her approach, and startled a little at her sudden appearance by our side. She wore a pale pink dress, and her hair was a silver-blonde with pinned curls. Her slanted green eyes had a beautiful, otherworldly look about them, but she was very thin, and beneath her makeup, her skin looked unhealthily pale, as if she were sick. I didn’t dare comment on that, though.
“Good evening,” I echoed back.
“My husband and I have been waiting to meet you,” she continued, patting the hand of the man whose arm she was on. He was tall and handsome, with thick, chestnut hair…and he, too, was on the thin and pale side. Looking closer, I noticed concealer beneath his dark eyes. Was he hiding shadows there?
“Mrs. Navalny,” Maddock said, smiling. He took her outstretched hand and kissed it. “Thank you for your invitation.”
“Oh, the pleasure is all ours.” The woman batted her eyelashes, then glanced up at her husband. “Wouldn’t you say so, Anatoly?”
“Indeed.” Her husband’s expression turned shrewd as he took Maddock’s hand and shook it. “I have researched you extensively, and your investment portfolio is quite impressive. I would love to talk with you about real estate some time.” His gaze turned to me, and that stern expression softened into a smile. “And it is a pleasure to meet you as well, Mrs. Anderson. Your husband appears to be a lucky man.”
“Thank you.” I smiled, deciding to ignore the flash in Mrs. Navalny’s eyes. Apparently she didn’t enjoy it when the men around her implied another woman was beautiful. “I assume that we will be viewing the Moirtéal Dealbh later this evening?”
“Yes, after dinner,” Mrs. Navalny informed me, all smiles again. “It is a magnificent piece, so we cannot have it here in the ballroom on display. It is under guard in the viewing room, where we will be gathering later on tonight.”
“Later on tonight?” Maddock asked, and damn if his tone wasn’t flirtatious. “If I didna ken any different, I would say yer deliberately trying to keep us waiting, Mrs. Navalny.”
“How on earth would I keep you here the whole evening if I gave you what you wanted right away?” She gave him a wink, and I nearly rolled my eyes.
“Well, as much as we would love to continue this conversation, my wife and I do need to greet the other guests,” Mr. Navalny said smoothly. His expression was placid, but there was the faintest glimmer of annoyance in his dark eyes. “Please enjoy your evening.”
The two glided off, dipping immediately into conversation with another couple nearby. Maddock and I continued off in the other direction until they were out of earshot.
“Do you really think that guy wants to talk to you about investments?” I asked quietly as the Navalnys disappeared into another room.
“I believe it’s possible.” Maddock motioned with his hand for me to walk ahead of him toward the buffet tables. “The alias I’m using does have an impressive portfo
lio, after all, and it’s hardly the first time I’ve been asked. Why?”
“They just seemed weird.” I snagged a glass of wine off the tray of a passing waiter and took a long sip before I continued. “Like in the beginning, Mr. Navalny wanted to talk to you about investment stuff, but toward the end, he couldn’t care less. And the wife…” I thought back to what she said. “She said, ‘how on earth would I keep you here the whole evening if I gave you what you wanted right away.’ Like she was planning on giving you what you wanted.” I narrowed my eyes at Maddock. “Were you planning on sleeping with her later in exchange for the artifact?”
“Hardly,” Maddock drawled. “She was just flirting.” He didn’t meet my gaze, though, and something about the tone of his voice would have made me think he was lying if he weren’t a fae. What wasn’t he telling me? Was there something more to all this? A reason why the two of them looked so weird and sickly?
“Are you hiding something from me?” I accused.
“Hush,” he said, plucking the half-finished glass from my hand and setting it on the table. He then tucked my arm into his and headed for the ballroom floor. “Yer line of conversation is going to draw attention if ye keep talking so loudly. Let’s try to blend in a little.”
You didn’t answer my question, I wanted to say, but I bit my tongue as he led me onto the dance floor. We faced each other and took our positions, my left hand on Maddock’s broad shoulder, my right hand clasped in his. He put his free hand around my waist, drawing me close, but not close enough that our bodies were touching.
“Ye have nothing to be jealous of, Detective, I assure you.”
I opened my mouth to defend that I wasn’t jealous, but when Maddock arched his eyebrow, I felt like arguing it would only prove his point.
“Relax,” he murmured as he guided me across the floor in some kind of graceful, but simple, number. “If ye look too stiff, ye’ll attract attention.”
“We’re attracting attention with your presence alone,” I muttered, though I made an effort to relax my shoulders anyway.
Maddock grinned. “Oh?”
“Don’t play dumb,” I said, my eyes flicking to a couple that glided past us. The man was nearly seventy, and the young woman in his arms shot Maddock such a lustful gaze, I was surprised his tuxedo jacket didn’t set aflame. “All the women in here have been looking at you.”
“And ye’ve had yer fair share of male admirers,” Maddock pointed out, squeezing my waist lightly. His face dipped closer to my ear, his breath warming my neck and sending shivers of heat across my skin. “Such a thing is normal and cannae be helped.” For half a moment, I thought he meant my carnal reaction to his touch, but then he continued. “There are a good number of other couples attracting similar attention, though, and you dinnae see them looking stiff and awkward. So again, relax and smile.”
Exactly how was I supposed to relax while I was in his arms? Of course I wouldn’t dare ask that aloud. It was one thing to feel these feelings, another thing entirely to admit to Maddock that I was having a hell of a time controlling them. If he knew, I had no doubt he would find some way to use it against me, and I wasn’t giving him any more power over me than I absolutely had to in order to survive.
As we glided close to the edge of the dance floor, a woman stumbled, her drink sloshing forward in her hand. Maddock quickly whisked me to the side to keep her from spilling wine on my dress, but I instinctively broke free, seeing that she was about to stumble into another couple instead.
“Are you all right?” I asked, catching her by the arms and gently pushing her back upright. The glass was dangling from her hand, nearly about to fall. “Here, let me take that for you.”
My fingers wrapped around the glass, and a memory slammed into me, replaying everything the glass had seen at some earlier date.
“The guard rotation is scheduled to happen in five minutes,” said a man with thick, silver hair that was at odds with his youthful, handsome face. The reflection in his eyes showed a redheaded woman in a black, sequined dress holding a champagne glass. “We should slip out now, before we miss our chance.”
“Do you have the tool set?” the woman asked, the barest hint of excitement in her quiet voice.
“How could I forget?” The man lifted his tuxedo jacket, revealing a small case tucked into the inside pocket. “And yes, before you ask, I packed the jammer. We should have no trouble getting in.”
“Then let’s go.”
The woman I’d caught pulled herself from my grasp. “Yes, I’m fine,” she said, her cheeks colored with embarrassment and probably a little too much wine. A man came to collect her, and he murmured an apology before taking the wine from my hand and leading the woman away.
“No good deed goes unpunished, eh?” Maddock said quietly as he took me back into his arms and resumed the dance.
“Actually, I believe I got a reward for that one.” I pressed my cheek against his so I could whisper into his ear. My heart began to beat a little harder as his scent thickened, and my voice came out a little breathier than I would have preferred. “I saw a vision when I touched that woman’s glass.”
“Oh?” Maddock’s grip on me tightened, and my body responded in a way that stole my breath. “What did you see?”
“A man and a woman talking.” I relayed the brief conversation, trying to ignore the heat searing through my body at Maddock’s embrace. “Might be a coincidence, but it sounded a lot like they were planning on stealing the artifact.”
“Bloody hell,” Maddock hissed in my ear, though his expression didn’t change in the slightest. Damn, the man could probably clear out all of Vegas with his poker face. “We need to get to the viewing room right away.”
I stopped moving, then pressed my hand against my stomach. “Oooh, please excuse me, darling,” I moaned. “I think the caviar from earlier did not agree with me.” I broke from his grip, then headed for the nearest waiter, who was not far from the dance floor. “Sir, can you point me to the ladies’ room?”
The man gave me instructions, and I headed out of the ballroom and took a right, following his instructions. I made sure not to move too fast or too slow so that I didn’t draw any more attention than I already had.
By the time I’d reached the next corner, Maddock had caught up with me.
“This way,” he said, his voice low and urgent as he took me by the elbow. He whispered something as we walked, and tingles spread across my skin as whatever spell he’d spoken came to life.
“Invisibility spell,” he muttered as I turned to him, the question on my lips. “It wilna keep them from hearing us, so be quiet.”
We went left, down a long hall, then took a right and descended the staircase. Music, laughter, and conversation drifted away as we crept down the stairs as softly as we could. My heart pounded at the sight of a guard standing right at the landing, but though his nose did twitch slightly, he didn’t notice us as we walked past him and down another hall.
Crazy, I thought, glancing over my shoulder. Maybe he’d smelled my perfume or something? All he would have had to do was reach his hand out and he would have touched us. Of course, Maddock probably would have incapacitated him before he could raise any kind of alarm, but still. I didn’t want things to go that far.
We finally came to a door with another guard posted outside and a brass placard on it that read “Viewing Room.” Just as I was trying to figure out how we were going to get inside without alerting the guard, Maddock snagged me around the waist and teleported us inside.
“A little warning would have been nice,” I grumbled as the room swam into focus around us.
It was a large, rectangular space, with priceless swords mounted on the walls and various pieces of art and historical artifacts on display in glass cases resting on glossy wooden shelving. In the center of the room were several cases standing on pedestals, the objects in them clearly the stars of the show.
In the left one was some sort of Grecian urn. In the right one was
a bronze dagger. And in the center…
“Bloody hell,” Maddock swore. “It’s gone.”
Chapter 13
Before I could say a word, Maddock grabbed me and teleported us out of the room. In the next second, I found us back in the ballroom. I clutched Maddock’s arm to steady myself so I wouldn’t sway in front of the guests, but I barely had time to collect myself before he practically dragged me across the room over to where the Navalny’s were holding court.
“Mrs. Navalny,” Maddock purred, placing a hand on our hostess’s shoulder and cutting her off mid-sentence. His voice was slightly deeper than usual, and the tingles skipping up my arms told me he was using magic. “Would ye mind having a quick word with me? I’m afraid I’ve run into some trouble that only ye can help me with.”
The flash of irritation in Mrs. Navalny’s eyes instantly melted away. “Of course,” she cooed, rising fluidly from her seat. The other guests stared at us, and the expression on Mr. Navalny’s face was nothing short of thunderous. Why the hell was Maddock being so reckless? Wasn’t he the one telling us not to draw attention?
“Excuse me, Mr. Anderson,” Mr. Navalny started to say, but Maddock cut him off.
“Ye have nothing to worry about, Mr. Navalny,” he said smoothly, the magic still in his voice. “I will return yer wife safe and sound in just a moment.”
“Very well.” Appeased, Mr. Navalny sat down and began to engage the crowd around him. The others gave Maddock one last glance, then settled back into conversation.
Meanwhile, Maddock drew Mrs. Navalny over to a shadowy corner behind a pillar, and I followed.
“Mrs. Navalny,” he said, “I’m afraid I wasn’t completely honest with my reasons for coming here tonight. I didna come here just for the pleasure of yer fine company, or to see the Moirtéal Dealbh. I came because I had planned to meet up with an old acquaintance of mine and discuss business.”
“Oh.” Mrs. Navalny pouted. “Well, that is your concern, of course. What does this have to do with me?”
