Читать книгу Hunted By the Others - Jess Haines - Страница 15

“Don’t touch anything while we’re inside without asking first,” Arnold said before we walked through the doors. “Some of the stuff in here is dying to get out and might try to attach itself to you.”

Oh great. Sentient artifacts, just the sort of thing to make my day.

He led the way inside. The walls here were of red sandstone marked with runes similar to the ones on the doors. Every few feet there were arches with burning torches for light. The flickering lights drew my attention to the runes that moved and swirled in a way that was making me feel dizzy. I had the sick feeling we left New York behind the minute we walked through those arches.

“What did you need exactly anyway? Vero didn’t tell me what to give you.”

I sighed, hoping I wouldn’t sound too ridiculous and unprofessional. “I was hoping you might be able to tell me. I was hired to find a statuette in the possession of a vampire.”

He snorted laughter, drawing my attention sharply to him and off the weird walls. “Oh, that. I’ve got just the thing.”

We continued on for what seemed like forever. I should’ve worn flats instead of heels. Abruptly, the tunnel opened up into a large circular chamber with other tunnels branching off in four other directions. I noted the five-sided star etched into the sandstone, each point set before a tunnel opening, including the one we now stood in. There were fat candles set on each point of the star, none lit.

“Luminare,” he whispered, and I took an involuntary step back as the candles simultaneously lit themselves up. “Guidare.”

One by one, the candles flickered out, leaving only one with a steady flame. He gestured cheerfully, his voice resuming normal tones. “That way. Follow me.”

I did. My curiosity was really getting the best of me. “What’s down the other tunnels?”

“Traps. Death for the really stupid.” He was pretty nonchalant, considering the topic. “Most of the ones who make it this far don’t know enough or are too arrogant to ask for guidance. We put that little safeguard in a couple years ago. Works like a charm.”

I swallowed hard. “Who comes down here? Aside from you, I mean.”

“Oh, I don’t know. Disgruntled former employees, rival corporations and covens, people like you who get a glimpse once and think they can make it past our safeguards.” He laughed softly, the sound making me shiver despite the nasal quality. “Greed getting the better of them, I suppose.”

“People like me?”

I knew my voice had an edge, though I didn’t mean it to come out as harsh as it did. The way he said “people” led me to believe he didn’t think very highly of us plain ol’ magic-less humans. It’s one thing when you voice your little bigoted thoughts in private, quite another to do it to the person’s face.

He laughed again, a little more heartily this time. “Don’t take offense. I meant outside contractors.”

“Oh.” My turn to be embarrassed.

“Here we are.”

He waved me into another large cavern, this one positively overflowing with junk. It looked worse than his office. There was old dusty crap scattered everywhere, all over the floor, piled on tables, everything from books and scrolls to rusty suits of armor and old-fashioned weaponry. There was jewelry and vials and gems and statues and coins strewn as far as the eye could see.

Despite the mess, I had to admit I was impressed. The Circle had literally tons of junk. And because it belonged to The Circle, all of it, every piece, had an element of magic to it. My respect for them went up a notch, despite their obvious lack of house-cleaning skills.

Arnold waded into the mess, carefully stepping over and around the stuff on the floor. He picked up a little stick-looking thing from underfoot, made a surprised “huh,” and continued on. I stayed behind, not sure I’d be able to follow in my heels.

He disappeared around a mountain of books. I’m not kidding. There were so many, I couldn’t even begin to count them.

“Wait there, I’ll be back in a sec.” His voice sounded far more distant than I would’ve credited, considering he was only a few yards away.

So I waited. And waited. After a little while, I pulled out my cell phone and checked the time, noting with dismay that it was nearly five o’clock. Had we really been down here that long?

“Arnold?” I called, hoping he hadn’t gotten distracted and forgotten me down here. I’d never find my way back to his office, not without help.

“Just a sec, almost got it!” came a faint reply from somewhere in the midst of the mess.

Despite his words, I was sorely tempted to go look for him and see if I could maybe help move this along a little faster. I still had to meet with Royce tonight, and didn’t want to keep the vamp waiting too long after sunset. Who knew how he’d take it if I showed up late to our scheduled meeting.

From somewhere out of my sight, I heard a prolonged crashing and clattering. It sounded like the whole place was about to fall down around our ears. A minute later, dust-covered and triumphant, Arnold appeared from behind the books and carefully picked his way back to where I stood.

He had a few things in his scrawny arms and cupped in his hands. I reached out as soon as he was close enough to take a few from him, and he looked grateful for the help.

“Thanks. Sorry for the wait.”

“No sweat. What is all this?” I looked down at what we were holding, a little confused. None of it looked very useful.

I’d taken a couple of delicate crystal vials filled with an amber-colored liquid and a plain-looking silver chain with a tiny black stone pendant hanging from it. He was still holding the stick he’d picked up earlier, along with a leather belt folded over one arm and a dusty book and loose papers cradled in the other.

“Got some good stuff for you. That perfume is faint to someone like you or me, smells a little like cinnamon.” He nodded at the crystal vials. “It depresses a vamp’s appetite and makes you smell less like food to them. Alchemists came up with it a few hundred years ago.”

I raised my eyebrows at that, examining the sloshing liquid with interest. In that case, I’d bathe in the stuff before I went to see Royce.

Reading my expression, he grinned. “You just need a dab at the throat and wrists, against the skin. Works best over a pulse point and it’ll last until you wash it off. Next,” he continued, starting to walk back the way we came, “I got you that necklace as a deterrent against any mind games the vamp or even one of us might try to pull on you. You’ll see through illusion and can’t be forced with magic to do something against your will.”

Jackpot! “Wow, thanks,” I couldn’t believe my luck. This was great! “That’s amazing, I never knew there were such things.”

He grinned, apparently pleased with himself. “Yeah, The Circle’s pretty good at keeping secrets. You won’t find any of this stuff on the market; it’s all made in-house.”

I hid a pang of worry. Did this mean I’d have to keep quiet about the items, or could I tell Sara? I decided to leave that problem until later.

“Anyway, that’s not all. This belt was a lucky find, I thought we’d given the last one away a decade ago. The stakes will always return to the belt after use. Oh, and remember, don’t wear it until you’re ready to use it.”

My elation suddenly dried up into something nearing terror. “What? No, no stakes. I don’t do exterminations. I told Veronica that when we met on Thursday.”

“Trust me, you’ll want these.” Arnold wasn’t ruffled by the panic in my voice. We’d reached the double doors leading into his office, and I couldn’t help but be further alarmed noticing that the walk took a lot less time, and we hadn’t passed the star and candles this time around. “Maybe not right away, but they’ll come in handy.”

He thrust the bundled-up belt at me, ignoring my protests. Reluctantly, I picked it up, surprised at how heavy the silly thing was. I hadn’t seen the three solid metal stakes attached to it since he’d had them pressed up against his chest. Peachy keen.

Sourly, I gestured at the book, papers, and stick he was still holding. “What about those?”

He shook his head and dumped them unceremoniously on top of the papers on his desk. “These are for me. You’ve got Veronica’s e-mail, right? If you need anything else, just have her give me a little forewarning and I’ll have it all ready for you. It’ll save you the walk next time.”

I sighed. “Okay. Thanks Arnold, you’ve been a big help. This was way more than I was expecting.”

“Don’t sweat it.” He grinned again, his gaze shifting down to the dice on his desk. He picked up a few and rolled them absently against the desktop. I noted the bright little bits of plastic came to rest with the 20-side, the 10-side, and the 1-side up. His voice was faint, and probably would have gone unheard if I hadn’t been so on edge, taking note of every detail. “And they say divination is a dead art.”

The look he turned to me was speculative, intrigued, and something else I just couldn’t read. Clearing his throat, he walked me over to the blank wall we’d entered through earlier.

“Let me know if this job gives you trouble. You can just call our main number and ask for me.”

I walked through, looking back at him over my shoulder. “Thank you very mu—”

My last words were cut off abruptly as I stepped through the wall and into the main lobby, right next to the receptionist’s desk. She was still typing, and didn’t look up at the sound of my voice. I reached up a hand to lightly run a finger over the huge Impressionist mural on the wall that I’d stepped through. Solid.

With a slight shudder, I rearranged the stuff in my arms, stuck the necklace and vials in my purse, and wrapped the belt up into a loop made awkward by the stakes. As I headed toward the exit, the girl looked up.

“Have a nice day!”

I was so edgy that the sound of her voice cutting through the silence made me jump. She smirked, then focused back on her screen, content to pretend I didn’t exist.

What a day this was turning out to be. I cringed when I realized it had barely started; now I had to face Royce.