Hidden Magic: A Ley Line World Urban Fantasy Adventure (Relic Guardians Book 2)

by Victoria DeLuis

  The hotel door burst open, and I realised too late the true danger I was in.

  Sebastian Davenport stood side by side with Ben, and six more men stood behind them. He spared me a dismissive glance and turned his attention to the statue. Before I had time to react, he charged across the room and snatched it from the table. I tried to protest, but one of his men flew at me and grabbed me around the neck.

  Two powerful hands pinned me against the wall. I tried in vain to pry the fingers away from my skin, but my vision blurred and I felt as though my head would burst like a balloon. Fire swept through my throat. I wanted to cough, but couldn't gather the air. Black spots danced in front of my eyes. I was at the edge of consciousness. I was going to die. I could feel it in every fibre of my being.

  Through the haze, I heard Ben pleading with Sebastian Davenport. His face was full of worry as he shot me a frantic glance. I tried to speak, to call to him, but the only sound that escaped was a strangled gasp.

  Then, as suddenly as they had appeared, the hands around my neck vanished, and the pressure along with them. I crumpled to the ground, coughing. A metallic tang flooded my throat and I felt bruises as they blazed to life on my skin.

  Ben rushed to my side. "I'm sorry," he said as I tried to steady my breathing. "They discovered the statue missing and came to my room. They just wanted the stone. I didn't think they would hurt you."

  "I apologise for your mistreatment, Ms Bevan." Sebastian Davenport walked across the room and took my hand to guide me to my feet. A slight smirk played at the edge of his lips when I snatched it away and rose unaided. My hand clutched my neck protectively. He looked from me to the statue in his other hand, as though he knew I wanted to snatch it from his grip.

  "You must forgive Bradley for being so overzealous," he said. "Just as we shall forgive you for your minor indiscretion."

  "You could have killed her." Ben snapped and pushed Mr Davenport away from me.

  Mr Davenport stood very still and glared at him for a second before turning to leave the room. His lackey surged forward and shoved Ben away with a fist raised. He dropped it at Davenport’s command. Ben hovered in front of me, shielding me from them.

  "What are you going to do with the statue?" I asked, my voice no more than a croak.

  "Not that it's any of your business, Ms Bevan, but the statue shall be returned to the museum, where it will undergo further analysis to determine if the stone is inside or not."

  I didn't believe a word he was saying, but at that moment in time, there was nothing I could do about it. I wanted to shout at him, call him a liar, although, I suspected he was much, much worse.

  "Why do you want the stone?" I asked instead.

  "The Cintamani Stone is a valuable artefact. One of great historical and religious importance. You of all people should understand the desire to find such objects."

  I swung my gaze to Ben and saw the warning to drop any further questions on his face. There was a danger in pushing this man further, but I couldn't stand by and let him leave. I had to get the statue back. If only I knew how.

  "Was the whole expedition to find the stone?" I stared at him, refusing to let him leave unchallenged. "Tell me, how did you know the stone was there? How did you get the permits to dig when no-one else has ever been granted the privilege?"

  Sebastian Davenport smirked. He appeared amused by my questions. "You are a very perceptive young woman, Ms Bevan, but know I am a powerful man who doesn't take questioning lightly." His eyes flashed with menace as he hefted the statue in his hand. "Do not forget, it is you who committed a crime here. Not me. Your insubordination at this time is understandable, but, I trust, when we meet again, you will be in a much more civil frame of mind."

  I stood tall and set my jaw, bristling at the implications in his words. Sebastian Davenport was in no way superior to me, of that, I was damn well sure. I glared at his back as he and his men left the room, my only thoughts on how I could get the statue back from this monster of a man.

  As soon as they had left, Ben pulled me close, but I shrugged him off. Half because of the statue’s theft and half because I wasn’t sure if I was furious at him. I’d just been strangled — I could have been killed — because he had led them to me.

  "We have to get that statue back," I said.

  Ben shook his head. "Leave it, Hayley. Just be grateful that everything worked out okay. You haven't been arrested and no-one got killed."

  "That we know of."

  "Look, take tomorrow off. Rest your voice and see what you can do about those bruises."

  My hand flew to my neck as the pain, forgotten in my anger, came flooding back.

  "I'll smooth everything over with Mr Davenport and Doctor Naidoo," he said and moved to leave.

  "What do you think a man like that would wish for?" I asked.

  Ben stopped and turned around. "That's not for the likes of us to ask," he said and left.

  I bristled. Ben was right earlier; I was privileged. Privileged to know right from wrong, to believe that everyone was equal, and most of all, that men like Sebastian Davenport should and could be stopped.

  Chapter Seven

  Friday came in the blink of an eye. At seven-thirty, I arrived outside the museum in a lone cab, lost amongst a sea of limousines. The sun still shone in a sky as blue as a robin's egg. The wealthy gala invitees were adorned in their finest clothes and jewels: men stood tall in bespoke suits from Fioravanti, or Savile Row's Gieves & Hawkes. Likewise, the women oozed opulence in Dolce & Gabbana and Gucci gowns. My simple floor-length, black dress looked drab and understated in comparison. A chiffon scarf complimented the dress, to hide the fading bruises on my neck.

  I sighed. The last thing I could imagine myself doing was spending more than two-hundred pounds on a dress, and even that was pushing it.

  I exited the cab and my stomach rolled with dread. It wasn’t my outfit I needed to worry about. Sebastian Davenport would be at the gala, and if the information I'd managed to glean from Ben was accurate, the statue was, too. I didn't know what I could do, or even if I should do anything for that matter, but my instincts still screamed to get the stone away from that evil man.

  I'd taken a day off work and returned to my duties on Wednesday, without a word from Doctor Naidoo and with no sign of Sebastian Davenport. My brief research into him had yielded scant results. I'd discovered his business operations had been registered out of Switzerland for six years, but, on the man himself, little information was available. My efforts created more questions than they answered.

  I took a deep breath and avoided the streams of people flowing along the red-carpet, basking in the attention of the media and relishing the spotlight.

  When I entered the museum, the grand entrance hall was decked with elaborate paper lanterns. Photographs of the dig site and artistic renderings of the temple in all its glory dangled from the high ceiling on wires. Loudspeakers piped the sound of resonant drums and meditation music.

  I ignored the offer of champagne brandished on a silver tray by a waiter, and edged through the thickening crowd to the far staircase, cordoned off by a red velvet rope. I needed to get as far away from the mass of people as I could, without making myself conspicuous. I went up four broad steps and scanned the gathering. From my vantage point, I spotted Ben at the bar, talking to a man whose back faced me. Ben looked as sexy as hell in an Armani suit. His ruggedly handsome appeal undiminished by his fine clothes and polished demeanour. He looked happy, laughing at whatever his companion said. When he glanced up, he met my eyes. A smile formed on his lips and he nodded to acknowledge my presence. He said something to his companion, patted him on the arm, and sauntered through the throng towards me. As he did, his companion turned and my heart sank. Ben had been chatting with Sebastian Davenport as though they were the best of pals.

  Mr Davenport stared at me. I held his gaze, unwilling to look away, although I flushed under his regard. He raised his glass, brandished it at me with a dip of his head, and
took a sip. I clenched my jaw.

  "Ah, Ms Bevan, there you are." I jumped at the sudden voice beside me. Doctor Naidoo looked amazing in her scarlet gown, with a silk pashmina draped over her arms. "I've been looking for you," she said.

  I smiled and complimented her on her dress.

  "Thank you, Ms Bevan. Although, standing next to you, I feel somewhat homely."

  "Never," I said, blushing.

  "Nonsense, dear. I bet you'd make a paper bag look good."

  We stood in awkward silence for a moment before Doctor Naidoo smiled and thanked me for all my hard work. "The museum is forever in your debt," she said. "Cataloguing the artefacts, working through the night, even after your illness."

  "My illness?" I asked, confused.

  "Yes. I must admit to being worried on Tuesday when Mr Collins said you were unwell, but you really pulled everything together. We would never have been ready for the gala without all your hard work."

  "Yes, of course," I said, although my mind was elsewhere. Ben had lied to Doctor Naidoo, said I was sick. Why would he do that, and why didn't Mr Davenport tell her I took the statue? No wonder she hadn't brought it up on my return to work.

  "It's a shame the statue didn't make it into the exhibition," I said in an attempt to establish how much she knew. "It would have made an excellent focal piece."

  "Statue?" she said, distracted. "Yes, a statue would have made a fine addition, but we work with what we have. Now, if you'll excuse me, I see the mayor. It's time to get this party started." With that, she paced across the grand hall: a woman on a mission.

  A moment later, Ben stepped up to me. For the first time, I felt his presence as a threat. My forehead was level with his nose, and I had to force myself to look up into his eyes.

  "What did Doctor Naidoo say?" he asked.

  "Where is the statue, and what the hell were you doing with Sebastian Davenport?" I demanded.

  Ben sighed and backed up a step. "I didn't want you to find out like this," he said, shaking his head.

  "Find out what?"

  Ben frowned, like he was trying to work out the best way to tell me some bad news.

  "Just spit it out," I said scathingly. "It's not like you killed a puppy."

  Ben smiled, but there was little humour in my heart, and his smile wavered under my cold gaze. He leaned in and slung his arm around my shoulder. I tried to shrug him off, but he pulled me closer. "Look," he said. "Whether you like it or not, you work for Sebastian Davenport now."

  My temper flared. "Like hell I do."

  "It's not so bad, just do as he says and everything will be fine. The perks are great." Ben straightened his jacket and brushed some imaginary lint from his shoulder. "You think I could afford this suit on my museum salary? No chance. Stick with Mr Davenport and you'll do all right for yourself."

  A sudden giddiness threatened to overwhelm me and I wanted to get out of the museum as fast as I could. "How long?" I asked instead.

  "How long, what?"

  "How long have you been working for him?"

  Ben shook his head. "That doesn't matter."

  "It matters to me."

  He paused, and when he spoke again there was a hint of pride in his voice. "Almost two years," he said.

  I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Ben had been working for Sebastian Davenport for two years. That was before he started working at the museum. In fact, it must have been around the time the permits were obtained for the dig.

  What the hell had I stumbled into?

  I stared at the man in front of me and all sorts of questions formed in my head. Had Ben set this up from the beginning? All of it? My cancelled cab and wake up call, the searching of the crates, leaving me at the airport. Was it all Ben?

  "You brought him to my room.” My hand flew to my neck as realisation hit. "He would have killed me."

  "But he didn't. I told him what an asset you would be to his team."

  An asset! What the hell did that mean? My head swam and I felt as though I might throw up. "And the statue?” I asked, my mind still reeling. “Is that really here, or was that another lie?"

  A heavy silence fell between us before Ben snarled and jerked me closer, his arm tightening on the back of my neck. I held my breath, as new bruises threatened to form on top of old.

  "Not once have I lied to you.” His words were a whispered threat against my ear. “The statue is in the workroom. Davenport was too worried about damaging his precious Cintamani Stone without tests to see where the statue was safe to break."

  He jerked my head around to face him. "I put my neck on the line for you," he said. "Don't make me regret that. Davenport's not the only man you don’t want to cross.”

  Ben released me and I stumbled back a step.

  His voice sweetened, and that scared me more than any threat of violence. “I like you, Hayley,” he said. “I really do. We make a good team."

  ‘We’? There was no we! How could I have ever considered the possibility there might be?

  I stood there in complete shock, uncertain of what to say or do. He put his neck on the line for me? From where I stood, my neck was the only one that had been put on the line. I touched my hand to my throat. It no longer hurt but the purple imprints were far from faded and it felt inflamed by Ben’s rough treatment. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. All I could think was that I had to get away from Ben and get the statue away from Sebastian Davenport.

  A waiter passed with another tray of champagne. This time, I didn’t hesitate. I took a glass and downed it under Ben’s hawk-like gaze without registering the sharp, rich taste.

  He gave me a warning glare, daring me to say something. His eyes bored into me as though he wanted to reach in and read my mind. He wanted an answer there and then. What would happen if I made the wrong choice?

  It took everything I had to swallow my pride, smile, and apologise.

  "Of course, everything will be fine," I said. "I'm just nervous and shocked. This trip hasn't turned out how I expected it to at all." I snaked my arms around Ben’s waist, hugged him close, and thanked him for everything he'd done for me, for saving my life. I didn't add that he was the one who put it in danger in the first place.

  Ben relaxed. He bought my lies without question. On the outside, I smiled and hung on his every word, but inside, my mind raced through every possible scenario from bashing him over the head with my glass and running, to faking a faint and waiting for the paramedics to lead me away. Neither of which were plausible options.

  "Ladies and Gentlemen," Doctor Naidoo called from the podium in the centre of the far wall, saving me from further conversation with Ben. "Welcome to the New York Museum of Life and Antiquities. I have the tremendous pleasure of presenting to you, William Burgess, the Mayor of this fine city."

  The main lights dimmed and a flashlight swirled around the room before landing on large oak doors, barred by a ceremonial ribbon. Doctor Naidoo walked over, joined the Mayor beside the door, and handed him the microphone.

  "And I have the pleasure of presenting to you, the greatest find in Tibetan History," the Mayor said, before cutting the ribbon and pushing the doors wide open.

  The crowd erupted in cheers and surged through the doors and towards the exhibition beyond. Ben took my arm to lead me forward, but I pulled him back. "I need to go to the restroom," I said.

  "Good idea. I'll come with you."

  "Okay, great." I wondered how I could possibly get away from him now that my bathroom ruse had failed. There was no way I could risk trying to sneak away with Ben standing guard outside the door.

  We strode across the room against the crowd, linked arm to arm. The nerves and dread building inside me intensified the closer we got to the restroom, and I tried not to frown. My heart pounded and my stomach fluttered, but it was now or never. I bit my lip and pulled Ben in for a kiss.

  My mind raced and every ounce of me wished things had been different, that Ben was the funny, kind man I'd thought him to be, and
not a ruthless criminal hell bent on finding his fortune and glory at any cost.

  I pulled away and took a deep breath. Ben's gaze fixed on mine. "I'm glad you're feeling better," he said.

  I smiled. "I am. Everything will be fine. I know it."

  I turned to leave, but Ben pulled me back for one final kiss. "I’ll be right here," he said.

  My throat had gone dry. I licked my lips and paused in the doorway. If I went through with my plan, there'd be no turning back. No job. No Ben. No going home.

  "You okay?" Ben asked.

  I said a silent prayer and turned to face him. "Actually, I'm a bit thirsty. I think the champagne has gone straight to my head. Would you mind going to the bar and getting me a glass of cola? I could do with a sugar and caffeine hit."

  "Sure, no problem."

  I turned and went through the door, watching him walk away as I did so. Then, I stood behind the door, counted to ten and slipped out of the restroom.

  Chapter Eight

  I raced through the deserted corridors. With only a short time before Ben would realise I was missing and came looking for me, I'd removed my high-heeled shoes as soon as I was out of sight of the other guests and ran.

  Within minutes, I'd reached the workroom. The bust of Lucius Verus still stood noseless on a table, undisturbed through our week’s activities, but behind it, on the workspace Ben and I had used, I found a large box. I lifted the lid and let out a gasp of relief when I saw the Buddha untouched inside.

  Without delay, I collected the statue and closed the box. Hoping if Ben arrived, he would see it and not realise I'd removed the contents.

  I found my mind returning to my conversation with Zoe Stark. If the stone was magical, what could it do and where could I hide it? Maybe she could help. I shook my head. I needed Nathan, but first, I needed to get it away from the museum.

  I headed for the loading dock, but hesitated when I heard talking ahead of me. I turned to head the other way but froze when Ben's voice echoed through the corridor. I was cornered.