“We have an agreement with them, yes.” He took a drink. “Unlike Giovanni’s branch, Tenzin and I have cast a wider net. We’re less focused.”
“And by that you mean…?”
“We find things for people who are missing them. Not people. We’re not casting the net that wide. But if it’s a thing that can be found, we can find it.”
Were his claims grandstanding and dubious optimism? Yes. Ben went with it anyway. No one got anywhere by being overly modest.
Max said, “And I’m assuming you have some experience in this?”
“Tenzin and I have been working together for about three years. Mostly word of mouth. You may have heard about our recovery of Sicilian tarí in Naples last summer.”
“Oh!” Cathy said. “I do remember hearing about that. It was right around the time the Mad Duke bit it, right?”
“Yes,” Tenzin said. “We were there for that.”
“Exciting.” Cathy’s eyes lit up.
“I thought so. Ben, not as much.”
There was so much he could say… but Ben bit his tongue. He sensed that Cathy and Tenzin had similar ideas of “fun.”
Max shrugged. “I can’t lie, Ben, this all seems very interesting. But I don’t sense you need an investor, and I’m not in the market for any lost items. What do you want from me?”
“I want you to hire us,” Ben said.
Cathy laughed. “He takes after his uncle.”
Max laughed. “Whatever for?”
“We have information on an object that we believe might be highly prized by you and your family,” Ben said.
“Oh?” Max said. “And what would that be?”
“The Sanguine Raptor.” Ben took a drink and observed Max and Cathy’s faces. Max’s face was carefully blank. Cathy’s was alight with excitement.
“Max, is that the sword—?”
“Yes.” He cut her off with one word and an expression Cathy was quick enough to read.
“Oh,” Cathy said. “That’s interesting.” Then she took a long swallow of her cider.
Ben waited. Then he waited some more.
Silence did not sit comfortably at the table.
“The Sanguine Raptor is… lost,” Max said. “Arcane. Despite some local wives’ tales, it passed into legend centuries ago.”
“And yet…” Ben wanted to speak carefully. He had no idea if René had come north. No idea if Gemma shared his meeting with Tywyll. “There has never been any proof that it was destroyed or stolen. In fact, none of Brennus’s treasure was ever found.”
Max smiled. “Don’t you think it would have been if it existed?”
Ben shrugged. “I don’t know. The Staffordshire hoard was found intact by a retiree with a metal detector. Anything is possible.”
Max examined him, and Ben tried to regulate his breathing. His pulse. Any tell that might give Max more information than he wanted to share.
“So…” Max steepled his fingers with his elbows on the table. “You really think you can find Brennus’s treasure?”
“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”
“You’ve some… clue that leads to gold missing for twelve hundred years?”
Ben said, “I don’t want to get too specific, but… yes.”
“If that’s true, what do you need me for?”
“I told you. I want you to hire us.”
Max leaned forward. “To fund you?”
“No. Just to hire us. We can negotiate a split for the treasure.”
The corner of Max’s mouth turned up in a rueful smile. “You’re audacious, I’ll give you that.”
“This isn’t about the money.”
Max’s smile turned patronizing. “Young man, everything in our world is about money.”
“In my opinion, it’s more about currency. And money is only one kind of currency.” Ben set down his drink. “Tell you what, do you have a five-pound note on you?”
Amused, Max pulled a slim wallet from the inner pocket of his jacket. He pulled out a five-pound note and set it in Ben’s hand.
“There,” Ben said. “I’m hired.”
“That’s all you want? Five pounds?”
“No, I want more than that,” Ben said. “I want permission to search in this territory. Not only are you of Brennus’s line, you’re connected. If you and Cathy give your permission, the vampire in charge of this territory won’t cause any problems for me.”
Cathy said, “That’s true.”
“And you’re certain Brennus’s treasure is within this territory?”
Ben continued as if he hadn’t heard Max’s question. “I don’t want to keep the majority of the gold for myself. I’ll split it with you, and I think you’d find the split more than equitable.”
“Why are you doing this?” Max asked. “The money?”
“I told you, it’s not about the money.”
“Then why?” Max cocked his head. "The sword?"
Ben smiled but didn’t say another word.
“Do you truly think it’s real?” Max asked.
“I know it is.”
“You’re not the first who has looked for it, you know.”
“Brennus’s treasure—and the Sanguine Raptor—are legends,” Ben said. “I want to be a legend too.”
Max smiled. “Now that is a motivation I can appreciate.” He pulled out a hundred-pound note. “There. Add that to the five and you’re officially hired. Ben Vecchio, I want you to find my great-grandsire’s treasure or die trying.”
Tenzin reached out and swiped the hundred-pound note. “He’s not taking a death oath.”
“Relax, Tenzin,” Ben said. “I’m pretty sure Max is joking.”
Tenzin’s eyes fixed on Max. “Maybe. Maybe not. But words have power, Benjamin. And I’ll take that oath before you do.”
“Tenzin, you’re not taking a death oath either.”
“Exactly.”
“Fine,” Max said. “Benjamin Vecchio, I want you to find”—Max couldn’t stop an amused smile—“the treasure hoard of my great-grandsire and bring it to me. If you don’t succeed, you’ll owe me twice again what I’ve paid you for this task.”
“Those are terms you can agree to,” Tenzin said. She held on to the note.
“Thanks so much.” Ben held out his hand and Max shook it. “Looking forward to this.”
Cathy clapped and a spark shot from between her hands. “And I thought this winter was going to be boring.”
Chapter Four
IT WAS AMAZING HOW EARLY the sun set in Edinburgh in the fall. By four o’clock in the afternoon, it looked like nighttime in California. Streetlights went on and golden light rippled on the damp black stones that made up the Royal Mile.
While the setting sun meant little for most humans who tromped up and down the road between Holyrood and Edinburgh Castle—some tourists, some festivalgoers, some everyday citizens of the old city—the setting sun had always meant something different to Ben.
Here there be monsters.
As a child, night was the time his mother let her demons out to play, falling into the sad oblivion of the bottle. Sometimes his father would come in the dark, shouting and throwing money at her, tossing dire threats before he stormed off, forgetting about the skinny boy until it came time for the next round of money and recrimination. Junkies woke at night, their greedy, distant eyes searching to see if a little boy had anything worth taking.
Ben had learned to hide before he could read.
Other predators roamed too. They were the ones who made Ben’s skin crawl. Their eyes weren’t distant, and the greed was of a different kind. When Ben’s instincts told him to run, he ran.
Now the monsters came in the form of friends and adversaries, immortal creatures who seduced with pale and beautiful faces. Tricksters who seemed more genteel than human predators… until you looked into cold eyes that saw you as food.
For Ben Vecchio, the night had always been owned by monsters.
He moved up Lawn
market to the flat he’d leased in James Court. He’d rented it months before, anticipating a long-term stay in the city. With so many tourists around, Ben could be just another face in the crowd, but the flat itself was in one of the massive stone buildings surrounding an open courtyard. It was thick-walled and nearly lightproof. Once he’d ducked off the Royal Mile, Ben was concealed from most prying eyes. Tenzin was able to come and go at night, taking advantage of the black courtyards, narrow alleyways, and steep side streets that curved like ribs branching from the spine of old Edinburgh.
“Not that we’ll be here much longer.” His murmured words frosted the night air as he hummed a tune playing from one of the many pubs he passed. He didn’t know where Tenzin was, but he was nearly certain that she’d be back at the flat unless she’d decided to disappear on him like she had the night before.
“Mr. Vecchio, isn’t it?”
Ben paused when someone called his name. He turned, looking over his shoulder.
Well, hell.
“What a wonderful coincidence to meet you here.” René Dupont leaned against the wall of Deacon Brodie’s Tavern, two tourists, a man and a woman, hanging off his arms.
“René Dupont,” Ben said. “What a surprise.”
“Hello, my friend.” René glanced up and down the still-busy street. “I see you are also here to delight in the sounds of the Scottish Fiddle Festival.”
“Oh yeah,” Ben said. “Every year. Never miss it.”
René smirked. “So I thought.”
Ben nodded toward the two humans, who were clearly under the influence of René’s amnis. The couple looked like typical tourists, stuffed backpacks and crisp coats. One even had a camera hanging around her neck.
“New friends?” he asked.
René ran a finger along the woman’s cheek. She smiled and sighed, leaning into his touch. “They asked me if I was interested in showing them ‘another side of the city’ when we were chatting at the bar. I decided to take them up on it.” He lifted an eyebrow. “I don’t think they were talking about a local tour.”
Ben examined the couple, uncertain how to proceed. Mostly likely René would feed from the humans and be on his way. Sex might or might not happen. Every vampire was different, and some had no morals about seducing humans with amnis.
“Relax, honorable young Vecchio,” René said. “I know who the enforcer is in this town. Cathy has burned me before, and I’m fairly sure she enjoyed it. Feeding guidelines are strict in this city no matter how willing the participants may be.”
“They’re under the influence.”
René shrugged. “They were well on their way before they met me.”
Cathy was a fire vampire, and it wasn’t a secret that William, Lord MacGregor, the vampire in charge of Edinburgh, kept her around because of her ferocity. Edinburgh was a city that owed much to its reputation as a safe city for tourists, festival attendees, and students. MacGregor couldn’t have any of them reporting assaults or strange attacks at night. Cathy made sure it didn’t happen.
“What are you doing in Edinburgh, René?”
“I am visiting my uncle, of course.” René smiled. “I love Max. Such a wonderful chef, if you get a chance to taste his cooking. Excellent taste in whisky. But what are you doing here?”
“Taking in the sights, of course.”
“I do hope your alluring associate is with you.” René glanced up and down the street again. Then overhead. “Should I be so lucky, my friend?”
“No,” Ben said flatly. “I am pretty sure you’ll never be that lucky.”
“Oh, my dear human, has she rebuffed you?” René cocked his head. “Do not despair. It is likely your mortal body has little to tempt her other than blood. It is only natural.”
Ben ignored him. Typical vampire superiority. “Why are you here, René?”
“There is a charming exhibit at the National Museum I was hoping to see. Jade ax-heads from the Italian Alps.” He shivered. “I’m passionate about the Stone Age.”
“Really?”
“I am only sorry I missed the Celts exhibit earlier this year. Did you happen to see it?” René’s eyes gleamed.
“I did. Too bad you missed it. But then, you should probably get used to missing things.”
René laughed. “You are so confident. In a way, it is endearing.”
“Yeah, I hear that all the time.” Ben clenched his hands in his pockets. “I’m super-endearing. Adorable even.”
“I have no doubt.” René shrugged off the arms of the tourist couple and stepped toward Ben. His voice dropped, and all pretense of amusement fell. “You are mistaken, my friend, if you think my interest in the Sanguine Raptor is frivolous or passing. I know you believe you know the location of Brennus’s sword. My intention is to find it before you. And if that fails, I will simply take it from you.”
Ben smiled. “Do you think so?”
“I know it.” René stepped within inches of Ben. He reached up, but Ben grabbed his wrist before he could make contact, yanking René’s hand away from his face and forcing his wrist back.
“Not a good idea.” No vampire would be making contact with Ben’s bare skin unless he knew they were a friend. He’d learned his lesson on that one.
“You are quite strong for a human, aren’t you?” René’s eyes lit with mischief. “What can I say? I am so curious what all the fuss is about.”
“It’s good to wonder about things,” Ben said, stepping back and releasing René’s wrist. “Have a good night.”
“Say hello to Tenzin for me.”
“No.”
“She’ll smell me on your skin,” René said. “I shall savor the thought until I see her again.”
✕
BEN smelled the cardamom and ginger when he walked in the door. “Tiny, you read my mind.”
“Not lately,” Tenzin called from the kitchen.
Ben blinked. “Wait… what?”
“How was New Town? Did it take long to walk?”
Ben hung his coat and kicked off his boots before he headed to the kitchen. “Have you been using amnis on me?”
“Of course not.” She slid from the stove to the sink in her stocking feet. “How was New Town? Did you find what you were looking for?”
“Yes.” He walked over and spun Tenzin around, pushing her against the counter and trapping her between his arms. “Have you been using amnis on me?”
Her eyes went wide. “No.”
His temper, held in careful check during his meeting with Dupont, spiked. “Dammit, Tenzin. You know that’s not allowed. We talked about that when you asked to stay at the loft.”
“You were talking in your sleep again.” She patted his cheek. “I just put you back to sleep. Don’t overreact.”
He stepped away. Ben didn’t want to know what he said in his sleep. At times like this, ignorance was bliss.
“Don’t do it again.” He reached over her shoulder and stuck a finger in the curry. “Hot!”
She slapped his hand. “Don’t do that.”
He sucked off the sauce that tasted something close to a spicy korma. “That’s good. Lamb?”
“Yes.”
“Where’d you get lamb?”
She went still.
He closed his eyes. “Tenzin, if you’re snatching random sheep from some farmer, I need to know about it. And… I don’t even want to think about where you may have cleaned—”
“Ha!” She grinned. “I got you. Max gave me the name of the late-night butcher he and Cathy use.”
Oh thank God. Ben was trying to imagine scrubbing frozen sheep guts off the stones in the courtyard before the neighbors woke up.
“I’m glad you’re finally getting the hang of this using money to buy food thing.” He reached over her head and grabbed bowls and plates from the cupboard. The flat had come fully furnished, but the furnishings were sparse. Since it was just the two of them, it wasn’t a problem. He hoped they wouldn’t have company though.
“Speak
ing of company,” he started.
“Were we speaking of company?” She leaned over and sniffed his jacket. “You saw the Frenchman.”
“Caught that?”
She wrinkled her nose. “There’s a cologne he uses. It’s distinctive.”
Ben sniffed his shirt. “I didn’t smell anything.”
“You wouldn’t.” She stirred the simmering pot. “So our friend René is in Edinburgh, is he?”
“He was disappointed not to see you.” He set the plates out, put the bowls next to the stove, and opened the drawer for the silverware. He grabbed a spoon for Tenzin, which was the only kind of flatware she liked. “He knows we’re here after the Sanguine Raptor.”
“Gemma did warn us about that.”
“I’m debating whether or not to call Max. René said he was visiting his uncle, but that may have been a lie.”
She shrugged. “He’s your client. This one is up to you.”
That was the problem. Ben was still figuring out how to properly plan and run a job of this scale. He was sure he was capable of it… most of the time. But the majority of his past experience had been scrambling after Tenzin, cleaning up her messes. Planning and executing a job of this size took an entirely different perspective.
It was also a new way of operating for Tenzin, who had taken jobs in the past, but mostly for mercenary work. Hunting immortals required a slightly different skill set than hunting artifacts.
“Wine or beer?” he asked.
“Beer, but nothing dark.”
“Got it.” He pulled two bottles of bitter out of the cooler. “So, the Register House was good. I think I’ve narrowed it down enough to go for a drive tomorrow.”
She heaped his bowl with a mound of fragrant rice, then spooned the lamb overtop before she served herself a smaller portion. “A drive to…?”
“I’ll tell you in the morning,” he said. “Right now we should enjoy this food, because I am starving.”
“You’re always starving.”
“And you always feed me.” He leaned over and kissed the top of her head. “No wonder we make such great partners.”
✕
St. Andrews, Scotland
Omens and Artifacts Page 5
