Obsidian Prey

Chapter 24

HE'D LOST THE BIGGEST SALE OF HIS CAREER. THE AMETHYST relic was worth a fortune.

Valentine Fairstead's hand shook as he opened the back door of the gallery. Frustration, rage, and anxiety coursed through him. It had been so close. He'd had Wilson Revere, himself, right there in the vault room. When it came to high-end clients, it didn't get any richer. Well, with the exception of a Sweetwater, of course.

But he'd never even tried to court the Sweetwaters. For one thing, rumor had it that their private vault was already overflowing with priceless amber of every kind and description, both archaeological relics and laboratory-grade specimens. He had never come across any piece that he thought would interest anyone in that family.

Truth be told, he had always been relieved by that knowledge. For some reason, he had never wanted to deal with the Sweetwaters. Something about that clan made him nervous.

Wilson Revere, however, was another matter entirely. Revere was a sophisticated, polished, well-educated man with exquisite taste, just the sort of client that the Fairstead Gallery preferred to cultivate.

He got the door open and hurried into the back room. Turning, he swiftly unlocked the rear door. He breathed a little sigh of relief. The dark alley behind the gallery always made him nervous. You never knew who might be hiding behind a trash container. The Quarter was not the safest place in the city at night.

But the man he had come here to meet insisted that he arrive at midnight and use the back door. There were other instructions as well. He was not to turn on any lights until they were in the windowless vault room.

He made his way by feel into the main sales room. From there he groped a path between the ranks of display cases until he reached the door of the vault room. He de-rezzed the lock and moved into the small space. Finally, he was able to switch on a light.

The door opened a moment later. A man entered the room.

"About time you got here," Fairstead growled. "I still say this is unnecessary."

"You're the one who screwed up the deal," the newcomer said. "Now I have to clean up your mess. Open the vault."

"Sweetwater never even saw the relic, I tell you," Fairstead insisted. He went to work on the lock. "There's no way he could have known it was in here."

"He must have suspected something. Why else would he have turned up at your gallery today? He's not one of your regular clients."

"It was the woman, I tell you. He was with her, and she was here because Revere wanted an outside opinion. The fact that Sweetwater was present had nothing to do with the relic."

"I don't like it. Too much of a coincidence. We've got to cut our losses and fast."

Fairstead pulled the heavy vault door open and stepped inside. "What are you going to do with the amethyst?"

"Make sure it gets found so that Sweetwater will stop looking for it. We need to get him off our trail. At the rate he's going, he's liable to uncover our little sideline. We can't afford that."

Fairstead picked up the amethyst relic. The stone was warm in his hand. It glowed faintly. For a moment the connoisseur in him surfaced. He savored the strange, elegant carvings that covered the purple amber.

"Exquisite," he breathed. "If only we knew how to activate the energy inside. Is it true that Lyra Dore can rez up images inside these stones?"

"That's what they say. Give it to me."

Fairstead sighed and handed him the relic. "Pity. It would have been the biggest sale we've ever made."

"Some risks aren't worth taking."

"I agree."

Fairstead walked out of the vault. He turned to close the door.

He never saw the mag-rez gun in the other man's hand. The first shot struck him in the back, flinging him halfway into the vault. The second shot took him in the head.