Deadly Sting

16

I sighed, welcoming the sensation, welcoming the embrace, welcoming him.

For a moment, our bodies melded together, even as our tongues dueled back and forth in a hot, furious kiss. His fingers pressed into my back, and I stepped even closer to him, desperate for more, aching for every single part of me to be touching him. Owen’s mouth slid off mine, and he buried his lips in my hair, his arms tightening around me even more, even as we both trembled and tried to catch our breath.

I closed my eyes, brought my hands up to his muscled back, and returned his hug, careful not to cut him with my knives. Then I just enjoyed the moment—the solid strength of his arms circling me again, the warmth of his skin pressing into mine, the hot whisper of his breath in my hair. I drank it all in, imprinting it on my mind, holding it close to my heart, and savoring every last second of it.

Then I dropped my arms and slowly pulled away from him, because we weren’t safe yet, and the danger was far from over.

“How are you?” I asked. “Did they hurt you?”

Owen shook his head. “No. They just wanted me to open the vault, which I finally managed to do, right before that explosion ripped through the air. Your handiwork?”

I grinned again. “Of course.”

Owen grinned back at me. Once again I savored the moment, then headed over to the vault door. Except for the wheel and hinges, which both had a smushed, melted look to them, the once-sturdy door was still intact—it just wasn’t standing in front of the vault anymore. The door had been moved to one side, creating a five-foot-wide opening into the vault.

Owen noticed me staring at the door. “Once the giants and I got through the lock and hinges, Clementine picked up the door and lifted it out of the way all by herself. It was impressive. I had no idea she was that strong.”

He was right. It was impressive—and worrisome. Because Clementine being that strong meant that I’d have to be even stronger to kill her. And I simply wasn’t. Not now.

Oh, I was a powerful elemental, but I’d already used up part of my magic fighting her crew. I had some power stored in the spider rune ring on my index finger and the knives I was carrying, but I didn’t know if it would be enough. Now I was starting to wonder if the power, magic, and energy I’d already expended would mean the difference between Clementine dying—or me.

Owen sighed and slumped against the side of the vault. For the first time, I noticed the sweat and soot on his face, the tired slant of his mouth, the slight sag of his shoulders. Sparks from the torches had landed on his tuxedo, leaving holes in his jacket, shirt, and pants, and his black hair was plastered to his forehead. Still, I thought he’d never looked more handsome or appealing.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

He nodded and straightened up. “Yeah, just tired. Using my magic on the door was hard—one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.” He jerked his head at the opening. “But it worked just like Clementine said it would.”

“Well, then,” I said. “Let’s finish the job for her and see what’s inside.”

The inside of the vault resembled something you’d see in a bank rather than a museum. A series of metal boxes lined one of the walls, while sturdy metal shelves took up two others. Three long tables cut through the center of the area, although their surfaces were clean and empty, I supposed so that the museum staff could open the metal boxes and sort through their contents there.

“Well, I certainly don’t see any piles of gold,” I said. “Do you?”

Owen shook his head.

Oh, there were valuables in the vault, and not just the expected paintings and sculptures. A pale jade elephant adorned with gold and emeralds peeped out from one of the shelves, right next to a small onyx statue of a mythological Nemean prowler, its ruby eyes flashing with some evil inner fire. A small antique violin gleamed inside an open case, while a diamond choker perched on a blue velvet stand, the gemstones proudly singing about their own exquisite clarity. The cluster of stones in the middle and the long, swooping lines of the necklace almost made it look like a spider spinning a web of diamonds.

It looked like Mab wasn’t the only power player in Ashland who had stashed her shinies at Briartop. But there was no hoard of gold and nothing that looked like it was remotely worth the risk Clementine and her giants had taken in breaking in here, versus the art they had already swiped from the rest of the museum.

“If it wasn’t gold, then what is Clementine really after?” Owen asked, voicing my thoughts.

I shook my head. “I don’t know, but start looking. Whatever it is, we need to find it and get out of here before Clementine and her men come back.”

Owen started looking at the white labels on the metal boxes along the left wall, while I took the opposite side of the vault, scanning first one shelf, then another. All the while, I was counting off the seconds in my head. It wouldn’t be too long before Clementine realized that she’d been tricked and headed back this way. We needed to be out of the vault by then, or we were dead. But we also needed to find whatever she was after. Otherwise, we’d have no leverage to use to free the hostages.

A minute passed, then two. But all I saw were paintings, jewelry, more small statues, and a couture dress made of crimson feathers and adorned with rubies that was draped over a mannequin in the back corner. Well, Finn certainly would have considered that valuable enough to store inside the vault. And it was even in my color. Heh.

“Anything?” I asked.

Owen shook his head. “Nothing that jumps out at me. You?”

“Same.”

Owen turned toward the wall of boxes again, but I took a step back and examined the vault. We could look for an hour and not find what Clementine had been after, and the giant and her men would return any second. As my gaze flicked from one shelf to another, I realized something important, something I should have remembered before now: that the inside of the vault was made of marble, just like the rest of the museum. An idea popped into my head of a way that I could at least narrow down our search area. I leaned forward, laid my hand on the wall closest to me, and reached out with my magic, concentrating on all the whispers of the stone.

The stone walls hummed with various emotions, mostly lofty pride and haughty arrogance at all the precious things they had housed and kept safe over the years. But those feelings were also mixed with notes of sweet relief, as the museum staff had been glad when certain items had been moved elsewhere so they wouldn’t be held responsible for them anymore. I reached for more of my magic and let myself sink even deeper into the stone, straining to hear every single thing I could from the marbles walls, every harsh note, every soft whisper, every sly murmur.

And I finally found something—a suspicious mutter that was just a little louder and just a little sharper than all the others. I trailed my fingers over the smooth stone, following the echo of that mutter like notes on a roll of sheet music. The sound led me all the way over to a shelf in the back of the vault. To my surprise, there was only one item on this shelf: a tube made out of ebony.

Small, thin, lightweight. There was nothing extraordinary about the tube, except for the design inlaid in the center of the black wood, a thumbnail-size ruby surrounded by several wavy golden rays.

A sunburst. The symbol for fire. Mab Monroe’s personal rune.

“I found it,” I said.

“Are you sure?” Owen asked, coming around one of the tables to where I was.

My fingers closed over the tube, and that mutter in the marble took on an even uglier, darker, harsher note. “I’m sure.”

“What do you think it is?” he asked. “A portrait? Maybe some sort of small painting?”

I shrugged and stuffed the tube into one of the pouches on my stolen utility belt. I also took a moment to snag the diamond necklace I’d noticed earlier and dropped that inside the pouch too. “Don’t know. We can look at it later. Right now, we need to move.”