by Dannika Dark
“His Creator was a monster. I learned about him when Cyrus kidnapped me. Those buffoons he called brothers were no better.”
Blue’s expression remained stoic. “I guess all that made him one hell of a man.”
Gem stood up and pulled a thin blanket up to Niko’s waist. “Is everyone upset? Viktor already told me, so I didn’t see the point of hearing it all again.”
Blue rolled her eyes. “Everyone but Wyatt. You can imagine all the stories he subjected us to about the afterlife. He volunteered to be there when Niko moved on to the spiritual plane in case he had any last words for us. Raven was pissed. I couldn’t read Christian, but then again, I never can. Vamps.”
“What about Shep?”
“He’s calling a few people he knew through Maggie. If Viktor didn’t get an answer from a prominent specialist in the field, I don’t know what Shepherd expects he can do. I guess at this point, anything’s worth trying.”
“I’ll figure out a way to fix this,” Gem promised. “Niko wouldn’t expect me to give up so easily.”
Blue chuckled, but her eyes were dim with sadness. “Like the time you first went rock climbing?”
“That’s different. My legs can’t stretch as far as yours.”
Blue turned her gaze to Niko. “Remember how he wouldn’t let you leave the room until you went halfway up? ‘Just one more step,’ he kept saying.”
Gem thought about Niko hooking up the harness while everyone else was goading her. She also remembered another time when they were alone in the gym and he encouraged her to climb to the top of the rope. Gem had always let her fears define her limitations, but Niko helped her smash those doubts to smithereens. He never used negative words to motivate her. Niko was patience personified.
“If we can’t wake him up, I don’t know if I can be a part of this team anymore,” Gem confessed. “Viktor warned us that this was a dangerous job and people might die, but I guess I never expected it to hurt so much. I’m not sure I can be there when Viktor… well, you know. I might just leave Keystone.”
Blue gripped the back of her chair and let the silence settle. “Leaving is a personal choice. You’ll get a memory wipe, and maybe you think that’s better than remembering what happened. Niko could have given you better advice than me, but if Viktor has to do this, you should be a part of it. Even if you decide to stay. Niko would want us all there, you know? It seems disrespectful to turn our backs on him. You’ll regret it for the rest of your life, not saying goodbye. Closure is about getting that last touch, that last hug, saying your final words and getting that last farewell. It’s the hardest thing you’ll ever do, so you need to dig deep and find that courage. What if his spirit is able to see us and you’re not there? That’s a shitty thing to do to a friend.”
Gem averted her eyes. “Maybe.”
“Just so you know, I’m pissed at whatever caused this, pissed that it happened to a guy like Niko.” She leaned back. “I don’t want this any more than you do. He deserves a second chance, so do me a favor and find a way to wake him up. But if you can’t, don’t take off. We all need to be here. It’ll be the hardest damn thing, but who knows? Maybe Niko will have some parting words for us when he crosses over. I’m sure Wyatt will interpret.” Blue stood up and set the chair back in the corner. “Can you do me a favor and leave us alone?”
Gem bit her quivering lip as she picked her skates up off the floor and padded across the room.
Blue sat on the edge of the bed and rested her hand on Niko’s. “Hey, amigo. It’s your partner in crime.”
Chapter 6
Gem waltzed into Pawn of the Dead on a mission. Five days had flown by since Viktor had given her an extension, and she had exhausted all efforts to find a solution. She’d searched her entire collection for any reference to a similar occurrence, anything that might lead her to a cure. Viktor didn’t want her casting another spell, but as the days dwindled, the red book became her only chance. The companion book she’d used to decode some of the words only had so many translated passages, and she had deciphered them all. The language was more complex than she could have ever imagined. Translating the entire book wasn’t a priority. All she needed was one spell, just one spell that could undo this mess. She preferred it to be something innocuous that wouldn’t hurt anyone else.
Pawn of the Dead was bustling with customers. Some were perusing the cases in search of jewelry. Others were searching for that rare find. Usually Keystone did their relic hunting in the middle of the week when business was slow. Immortals flocked to pawnshops in search of antiques from their past, be it personal or something representing a favorite era they’d lived in. Time had a way of making people nostalgic, and they filled their homes with historical artifacts and memorabilia. There were always a few in search of legal weapons, but pawnshops made a lot of their money by selling illegal goods under the table.
Gem approached the long display counter on the right and leaned over it, her feet rising in the air behind her. “Hey, Cosmo!”
Despite his gruff demeanor, Gem tried to remain cordial to the shop owner. While the rest of the team searched for illegal items, Gem had always negotiated a fair price for his books.
Cosmo lifted a large serrated knife from the case and handed it to a customer while providing him with a brief history about the previous owner. Cosmo was a scruffy-looking guy with blond dreadlocks who looked like he belonged in a postapocalyptic world. He had an eclectic style, always wearing beaded necklaces, shells, and stones from Mother Earth. Contrary to his approachable looks, he had the temperamental attitude of a billy goat.
“Cosmo, I need to talk to you,” Gem said. “It’s important.”
When the customer lost interest, Cosmo flicked a glance in her direction before putting away the knife. Then he turned around and shuffled through some papers on another counter.
Annoyed, Gem sidled over to the spot directly in front of him. “I need to ask you something.”
“Busy,” he replied.
“I’m not here to collect weapons. It’s about a book.”
“Still busy.”
Claude appeared out of nowhere. He leaned over the counter and grabbed a fistful of Cosmo’s faded yellow shirt. “You better get unbusy and help this female.”
Cosmo wrested his shirt free and gave Claude a black look. “Touch me again, Chitah, and I’ll ban you forever.”
When Claude placed his palms on the counter, it made his shoulders look immense. “I’d like to see you try.”
Cosmo was all talk. Even though he owned this place, he didn’t have the authority to ban Keystone members. Sometimes Gem wished that men weren’t always posturing. They were like gorillas beating their chests and swinging their arms, all to prove their dominance.
Keeping her cool, she slid a piece of paper across the counter. “I need to ask you about a purchase we made a few weeks ago. Here’s the receipt.”
Cosmo straightened his shirt, which had a palm tree printed over the breast, and turned the paper around with his index finger. “What about it?”
“The books listed at the bottom, do you know if there were any more in that collection?”
He stared at the slip of paper. “Maybe. I doubt it. I get a few bibliophiles who like to add to their collections. But they’re picky about the condition, so anything subpar I toss. Were they old?”
“Yes,” she said with derision. “I wasn’t aware that you sold Dan Brown.”
He snatched the paper and delivered a cold stare. “I suppose you want to go in the back and look for yourself.”
She raised her chin. “Don’t mind if I do.”
The rubber soles on her silver platform sneakers squeaked against the floor when she turned to follow him. Cosmo led them to the back hall and swung right, toward the storage room. When he opened the door, a musty smell wafted out.
If an immortal died and didn’t have friends or companions to handle their estate, their belongings wound up in places like this. Their entire life was
packed up in unmarked boxes and scattered between pawnshops and junkyards. Cosmo and his crew sorted through all the boxes to distinguish valuables from junk. The storage room was the first place Gem always came during their inspections because she got dibs on items he hadn’t put up for sale yet. Historical books weren’t easy to procure, and since Cosmo didn’t realize their value, she always got them at a reasonable price.
Moths fluttered near the overhead lights in the tall ceiling. Instead of searching the shelves in the back where he organized his goods, Cosmo veered left to a pile of boxes near the wall. She wrinkled her nose when he kicked one out of the way and the overpowering smell of mothballs was unleashed from an open flap. Cosmo muttered a curse word as he rummaged through them, then he finally shoved a box in her direction.
“You can look through these,” he said. “That’s all that’s left from that day, but it’s mixed up with other stuff I got that same week. I don’t know if they came from the same owner as whatever books you bought.” He flashed all ten fingers at her. “Ten minutes. And don’t touch anything else.” He left, slamming the door behind him.
“He’s a prick,” Claude said matter-of-factly.
Gem adjusted her floral skirt and knelt in front of the box. “Yes, but he has the best stuff in town. I bet he’s got a special arrangement with the cleaners or whoever.”
“Top dollar for top dead?”
“Something like that. Do you see anything here that belongs to a poor man?” She tossed aside an Armani jacket and a few strange bookends shaped like little monsters. “The people who deliver this stuff aren’t supposed to pack illegal weapons. But they do. Where else would Cosmo get that stuff?”
“Why would they bring them here? Why not keep them and skip the middleman?”
Gem tapped the face of a watch and added it to the pile. “Because they’d get caught. Bringing them here is easy money. Cosmo probably pays them up front. Anyhow, it explains why he also has the best books.”
Claude snorted and sat on a taped-up box. “The most nefarious men are literate?”
“Bingo.” She lifted a stack of books. “Think about it. Wealthy immortals have to be intelligent to get away with their crimes. Fortune favors the bold, but time favors the brilliant.”
Claude reached down and retied his white sneakers. “And what about the strong?”
Gem opened a book and thumbed through the pages. “How many strong, dumb men do you know who lived past two hundred and who weren’t under the protection of a brilliant man?”
Claude smiled handsomely and sat back up. “I guess I better brush up on my education.”
Without looking his way, Gem said, “Don’t worry. You fall in the beautiful category.”
“And what does that mean?”
“Opportunity favors the beautiful. You might never be rich, but you’ll never lack options.”
Claude lifted a pen and twirled it between his fingers. “You’re a clever female.”
“Not clever enough,” she muttered.
“I know you’re searching for answers to help Niko, but you can’t take all this responsibility upon yourself.”
Little did he know.
“What are you looking for?” he asked, thumbing through the pages of a dictionary. “And what interests you from that specific collection?”
Gem knew she shouldn’t have invited Claude along, but it was the only way to get a ride into the city. “Claude, would you be an angel and get me a box of donuts?”
“Donuts?”
She flipped a page. “I haven’t had them in forever, and I’m famished.”
He stood up like a soldier, unable to fight the instinct to feed a woman. “Plain or chocolate?”
“A variety box would be divine! And get extra so we can take the rest home. While you’re out there, can you tell Cosmo that I need an hour?”
“Why didn’t you tell him when he was in here?”
She batted her eyelashes at him. “Because you’re so much better at convincing people.”
Once Claude left the room, Gem was able to concentrate without a barrage of questions. She combed through all the books, one at a time. All but two were written in archaic languages, and she carefully scanned each and every page, ignoring the impending deadline that loomed over her like a swinging pendulum blade.
A knock sounded. “It’s been an hour,” Cosmo complained from the doorway. “Are you done yet?”
Gem blinked and looked up. Had it already been a whole hour? It seemed as if only minutes had passed, but when she checked her internal clock, Cosmo was right.
“Your friend’s waiting in the car,” he added. “Eating donuts.”
Claude was sweet. He knew Gem liked to work alone, so he’d gone for donuts and left her by herself, despite his protective nature.
“I just have one more to look at,” she promised.
He gave her the stink eye before leaving, once again slamming the door behind him.
Gem opened the last book in the box, and her heart sank. It was Gaelic and looked like work from the thirteenth century. She dutifully examined it anyway. There were a few random drawings, and as she flipped the pages, she identified strange anomalies, like passages written in Old Irish, which was long before the thirteenth century. Scholars often tried to be consistent, but even the handwriting differed throughout, as if immortals from different centuries had contributed. Some sections detailed battles she’d never heard of, and others listed spies sent to live among the English monarchy during the 1500s. The book hadn’t even been written in chronological order, which meant it hadn’t been passed down within a family or organization. A collective group had organized facts they felt were important to remember. It listed a surprising number of names along with their crimes and last known location. How had she missed this? Probably because the first few pages looked like an uninspiring account of Irish clans and battles, something Christian might have enjoyed.
The deeper she dove, the more intriguing the facts.
“Healing plants?” she murmured. “Definitely giving you to Shepherd.”
Many Relics knew of ancient remedies, but they passed that knowledge down to their children. They didn’t document those facts in books. This collector’s item was a treasure trove of information. One of the plants allegedly worked the same as liquid fire when ground into a paste, and another temporarily changed eye color. Imagine!
Gem tamped down her excitement when she remembered that she had only two days to find a cure for Niko. No one had obtained any helpful information on his condition, including Mary Rothchild. Wyatt’s internet research had turned up nothing, Shepherd’s contacts were clueless, and once again, Gem felt as if Niko’s life was in her hands.
She stared at the collection of worthless items on the floor. Something more had to be in the red book, but her progress had slowed significantly. Viktor didn’t want to try another spell, but what harm could it do when Niko had one foot in the grave?
Numbness ran down the length of her leg when she attempted to get up. “Ow.” Her entire leg from hip to toe had fallen asleep.
The book slid to the floor with the pages facing up. Gem had put her palms on the linoleum to stand when something in the book caught her eye: a drawing of an ouroboros, a snake eating its tail. She leaned over it and studied the text written within the serpent.
“The beginning and end,” she translated.
When she turned the page, she discovered more drawings. One was of a quill. The text described it as the Creator. It purported that a feather from a phoenix dipped in blessed ink could bind spells.
Her eyes widened. Blessed ink must have been ink infused with a rare Mage gift. But the feather of a phoenix? They had it wrong. Phoenixes were mythical creatures in Greek mythology. It was possible she was misinterpreting the word, and maybe it referred to a specific family or clan of avian Shifters. She skimmed over to the adjacent page. DESTROYER was written beneath a knife sketch.
“When the book is sealed with magic,
it is born into the world. It becomes immortal, absorbing light and altering fates. It gives life, and it takes it away. It is the beginning and the end. It is the divine and the underworld. Those who use it curse themselves,” she roughly translated, “for all gifts have a price.”
Gem clutched the book in her hands and stood up. When she hurried to the door, her entire leg—still asleep—dragged behind her.
Standing behind the cash register, Cosmo craned his neck to see what she held. “What have you got there?”
“Put it on my tab!” she said, limping across the store as if someone had filled her leg with heavy weights.
Painful needlelike sensations pricked her leg when the blood began circulating. Slightly nauseous, she emerged from the shop and spotted Claude’s red Porsche.
Claude had a chocolate donut in his mouth, and his eyebrows drew together as she limped to the car. He quickly removed the donut boxes from the passenger seat before she sat down and crushed all the sweets. “What’s wrong with your leg?”
She grimaced as she lifted her foot into the car, the pain so stunning that she wanted to vomit. “Just drive. Hurry!”
He set the boxes on the dash. “I can’t.”
“Why not? Let’s go! This is an emergency!”
Claude turned to look at her. Chocolate was smeared around his mouth and coating his fingers, making them look like chocolate-dipped éclairs. “You’re sitting on the napkins.”
“Jiminy Christmas! Just lick your paws, and let’s go.”
“You lick them! I’m not a man who licks his fingers. Plus, Cosmo’s watching. He bothers me.”
“Why don’t you ask that pretty blonde to lick them?” She pointed at a gorgeous woman getting out of an SUV.
He blushed madly, and it was far too adorable. Claude was a sexual man, but he would never be crass enough to make such an indecent proposal to a woman he didn’t know, not even in jest.
