Hollows 11 - Ever After (35 page)

“Barb!” the man in the suit exclaimed when we made eye contact, his pace never slowing. “I want to talk to you. Where’s Sue?”

I spun my chair nonchalantly. “Tour,” I said, scanning the ceiling for pixy dust.

“Don’t go anywhere.” His head dropped and he barked into a handheld radio, “I want an answer now, not in five minutes!”

Just as they vanished into the corridor, the alarm began again. I smiled at the masculine, PG-13 swearing. Frank was laughing. I could see him shaking through the glass walls.

It was time to go, and I grabbed my shoulder bag and dropped the
BACK IN FIVE MINUTES
sign on the counter. “Bathroom!” I mouthed to Frank when he noticed, and he nodded and went back to testing out the headphones for the “soothing sounds” display.

Alarm still shrieking, I angled to the employees’ restroom, waving to Larry and heading down the cold stairwell to run Barb’s card through the reader at the bottom.

Cement walls painted white and a tile floor put down in the 1960s met me, grimed in the corners and looking like they hadn’t been washed in five years. Heart pounding, I fingered the doppelgänger charm in my pocket, eager to get rid of it. My heels were noisy, and I passed the break room trying to be quiet when I heard the hum of a microwave.

“Barb!” someone shouted, stopping me cold.

Shit.
“Yeah?”

“Bull is looking for you.”

I exhaled. “Why do you think I’m down here?”

Whoever it was laughed, and I hustled down the corridor, taking my heels off as I went and stuffing them in my shoulder bag. I had a rough idea where the show was being stored, and I wove through the maze, thankful that Nick had given me the grand tour.

The sound of Jenks’s wings slowly became obvious. “How long we got?” I said when he hummed around a corner, taking it tight so his dust made a wide arc.

“Depends how long that alarm stays on,” he said, and as if mentioning it had been the trigger, it went off. “Seven minutes,” he muttered. “Where’s the elven crap?”

“We should have done this at night,” I said, as he flew off faster than I could run.

“They have dogs at night!” he said, hovering before a pane of glass for a second before going to the next.

The floors now had carpet squares, and air smelled like lemons instead of tuna fish. We were close, and I fingered Barb’s ID. “I like dogs,” I said, peeking into the room though Jenks already had. “Dogs and I get along great.” Seven minutes? It was going to be close.

“Rache!”

Three doors down, he was dusting heavily, and I jogged forward. Before I even got there, he had darted under the door. I looked past the glass to see long tables covered with artifacts in cases ready for display. My heart pounded.

“Got it!” Jenks sang out. “Run your card!”

Smug, I ran my card, and the door clicked open. Barb wasn’t cleared to be down here, but thanks to Jenks, the door’s security system was recording the last number that had been used.

“Go,” I said as I went in, my fingers already unhooking the lanyard to lighten the load. Jenks snatched it, his flight bobbling as he headed down the hallway to the elevators. I didn’t like separating like this, but if all went well, Ivy would join us soon.

“Like clockwork,” I said as I shut the door behind him and turned.
Riffletic,
I thought as I scanned the room for the rings. I needed the pair donated by Riffletic. They were perfect, and probably exactly what Riffletic’s estate said they were, seeing as I had found two confirmations of it in Trent’s books.
Crap, I’d forgotten to take those back this morning.

I took the doppelgänger charm off, shuddering as I felt the magic leave me. I smiled when I saw the rings were all together in one case, and I scanned the little cards under each one, concentrating on the few that had pairs of rings. Slowly my smile drained away. No Riffletic.

Concerned, I paced through the entire exhibit, thinking that such valuable rings as elven wedding bands might have been given their own case. Statues, books, pictures, and even an ancient tea set, but no more rings.

“Son of a bitch!” I whispered, hearing the sound of soft-soled shoes in the hallway, then pausing when I spotted two of the three tarot cards I’d once seen hanging in Trent’s great room. Had the Riffletic family pulled their rings from the show upon hearing I wanted them?

The card reader beeped, and annoyed, I spun to the door. “Where are Riffletic’s rings?” I asked Ivy as she came in, then froze when I realized it wasn’t Ivy.

A smallish woman in a businesslike skirt and lab coat was standing there, staring at me. Her glasses were thick, and she had a folder in her hand and a sketch of what looked like a gallery. “Who are you?” she said, clearly affronted. “You’re not supposed to be down here.”

Crap on toast!
I thought, scrambling, then decided to play it to the hilt. “I said, where are Riffletic’s rings?” I repeated tartly, wishing I had a clipboard or something. A clipboard and a hard hat could get you just about anywhere. “I flew all the way here to pick up some stupid rings, and I don’t see them. Who are you?”

Head tilted, the woman eyed me suspiciously. “I’m Marcie. I’m arranging the displays for the show. And Riffletic’s rings have already been picked up.”

“Well, that’s obvious,” I said, hand slapping my thigh as if she was being stupid. “If Riffletic’s rings are not on display, then the Cumberland estate wants their pieces back as well.”

The woman frowned, and I added with a sniff, “There seems to be some question as to the safety of your facility. My God, I got down here with no problem at all.”

Marcie looked at her open file folder. “I don’t have a record of any Cumberland pieces.”

“You lost our rings? What kind of rinky-dink museum are you!”

“We are one of the oldest art museums in the United States,” she said hotly. “Don’t move.” Never taking her eyes off me, she backed up to a landline phone. It looked like it had been down here since they put the carpet squares in.

“Me moving will not be an issue. I’m not leaving until I have the rings in my possession,” I said, haughty.
Damn it, Ivy, where are you?
“I can’t believe you misplaced them.”

“Who did you say you were?” she asked, and we both looked up as the door beeped.

Ivy,
I thought in relief, then choked when Nick walked in, cool and calm in a pinstripe gray suit and a blue tie. I almost didn’t recognize him with his hair slicked back and his shiny shoes.
Because of him, Ceri and Pierce are dead.
It was all I could do not to crawl over the tables between us. I clenched my teeth when our eyes met and he smiled.

The woman set the receiver back in the cradle. “And who are you?” she asked, pushing her glasses farther up her nose.

He beamed, reaching behind his coat for his wallet. “Nick Sparagmos. FIB,” he said, and I couldn’t help my bark of laughter. “Thank God you found her,” he added, grimacing at me and flipping his wallet open to show an ID. He closed it before Marcie could do more than lean to look, stuffing it away where he’d gotten it from. “Hands in fists on the top of your head,” he said to me. “Don’t make this hard on yourself.”

Why, are we surrounded?
I thought sourly, but he was between me and the door. Ku’Sox might drop into him, and then I’d be banned from the museum for blowing it up or setting it on fire, or . . . something. I slid away from the table I was leaning against. “You touch me, and you die, Nick.” Damn it, how was I going to get the rings now? Not only were they gone, but if I took my second choice, he’d know and tell Ku’Sox.

The woman looked from me to Nick. “Someone better tell me what’s going on,” she threatened, and I leaned back, gesturing for Nick to say something, dying to find out, myself.

“This is Le’Arch, the notorious art thief from the United Kingdom,” Nick said, pointing at me as he came in. “Have you searched her yet?”

“Oh. My. God,” I said, not sure I’d heard him right. “Nick, please tell me you did not just make an anagram of my name. Please. Just please.”

His jaw clenched, and he took another step forward. He was almost far enough from the door that I had a good chance of making it through, but without the rings—which were not even here anymore—I was dead anyway. “She has a history of claiming to be agents of big corporations and walking away with priceless artifacts,” he said, and the woman’s hand came away from the phone.

How long had he been listening at the door, and where in hell were Jenks and Ivy?

Well, Nick wasn’t the only one who could tell pretty stories. “Marcie, this jerk is my old boyfriend. He doesn’t work for the FIB, and he’s been stalking me all week. The man is a thief.”

Nick stiffened. “
I’m
a thief?” he said, looking odd in his new clothes as he advanced another step. “I’m not the one stealing ancient elven artifacts to break the ley lines. You are a
menace,
and I’m trying to stop you.”

“How dare you blame me for that!” I shouted. “I’m trying to stop him!” His jaw clenched, and I turned to Marcie. The woman hadn’t picked up the phone, but she was ready to. “Marcie, I’m sorry,” I said, still trying to turn this into a stalker boyfriend issue. “I’m going to file a restraining order as soon as I get out of here. He doesn’t work for the FIB, and he’s lying to you to get me in trouble with my boss. If I don’t get those rings out of here, I’m a dead woman.”
True enough.

Nick made an exasperated sound when Marcie looked at him with doubt, starting to believe me. “Neither of you move.”

“Has she taken any pieces yet?” Nick said, but it sounded desperate. “What rings did she ask after?”

Marci’s eyes narrowed, her belief swinging back to him. “Riffletic’s.”

Nick leaned to see the ring case. “There’s a pair missing.”

“There is not!” I said, affronted, but Marcie had already pulled away from her corner, rushing to look. “No!” I exclaimed when she lowered her head to see and Nick grabbed a heavy vase. It hit the back of her head without breaking, and the woman hung for a heartbeat, eyes wide as she slowly collapsed.

“You son of a bitch!” I said, lunging forward to catch her, my bare feet burning on the carpet squares as I struggled with her weight. “What in hell are you doing? Now it’s assault!”

The door beeped, and Nick barely got out of the way as Ivy yanked it open. “I say we return the favor and get the hell out of here,” she said as Jenks flew in, sword bared and his dust a dismal blue. Something bad had happened.
Where is Jax?

I carefully lowered Marcie to the floor, rising up mad enough to plow my fist right between his smiling teeth as Nick backed out of Ivy’s easy reach. He was still Ku’Sox’s toy. I could tell. “What are you doing down here?” Nick said idly, his head tilted so he could eye a row of artifacts and me at the same time.

Jenks landed on Ivy’s shoulder, clearly distressed. “Can we just get out of here?”

But I didn’t have the rings yet, and at a loss, I shook my head.

Nick’s smile widened. “Don’t have what you came for?” he mocked, running a finger on a glass case to leave an obvious mark.

“You got Pierce and Ceri killed,” I accused. “How dare you smile at me.”

His smile vanished, but I couldn’t tell if his sudden contriteness was real or contrived. “I’m sorry about that. I didn’t know he was going to kill them.”

“He’s a psychotic demon!” I shouted, then lowered my voice when Jenks’s wings hummed a warning and he darted into the hall. “He doesn’t need a reason to kill people, just a reason not to. You are one dumb warlock,” I said with a sneer. “Ku’Sox is going to kill you, too.”

Nick chuckled, tugging his sleeves down to cover his cuffs. On Trent, it looked good; on him, it looked nervous. “Ku’Sox needs me.” Hands on his knees, he leaned over the case of rings. “Mmm. Riffletic rings? I understand they were pulled. Weren’t they the elven wedding bands? Seriously?” He straightened. “Better than chastity, I suppose.”

Ivy had inched closer, and seeing it, Nick shook his head, stopping her. He still belonged to Ku’Sox, and I didn’t want the demon showing up. If we were going to take Nick out, it would have to be fast. But I didn’t know if that really mattered anymore. My plan was royally flushed. Ku’Sox wasn’t stupid. Three seconds after Nick told him what we were after, he would have it figured out. Maybe I could make that work for me.

“Ku’Sox doesn’t need you,” I said caustically, and Nick looked up from the display as if I was being stupid. “Or maybe I should say he won’t. Thanks to Trent, those Rosewood babies don’t need your lame enzymes. The only reason he hasn’t eaten you yet is because you’re spying on me.”

Nick smiled as if giving a benediction. “As I said, he needs me.”

“Yeah? For how long?” I said. Clearly distressed, Jenks hovered just outside in the hall at the ceiling. He tapped his wrist like a watch. Ivy wasn’t close enough, though. “Maybe you haven’t noticed, but I’ve got an expiration date,” I added. “You’re going to be deadweight after tomorrow, whatever happens.”

Nick frowned, his fingers twitching.

“Didn’t think about that, did you, crap for brains?”

His head came up. “You know nothing.” He looked at Ivy. “Stop moving, vampire.”

Ivy rocked back. “Cut it short or bring him,” she said. “We have to go.”

“Bring him?” I barked, my chin lifting. Then I said to Nick, “There is no hole deep enough or dark enough to hide you when Ku’Sox decides he’s done with you and pulls your plug.”

Arms swinging, I headed for the door, figuring he’d get close enough to smack him if he thought I was leaving.

Sure enough, he reached for me, and I let him grab my arm. “We used to be good,” he said, eyes angry.

“Yeah? Well, I used to be
stupid
!”

Grabbing his wrist, I spun to put my back to his front, and levered him right over my shoulder. He hit the floor in front of me with a groan, and Ivy was there, her long arm against his neck even though he was out. Jenks flew in at the noise, hovering over us.

“When do you want him to wake up?” she said, and my lip curled.