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Authors: Sarah Fine
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said. “I don’t judge.” I smiled. There you go. Subtle.
Each door along the hallway had a symbol on it and a number, and the couple peeled off to go into room six, which had a rough cross carved into the door. I wondered what it meant—that guy sure wasn’t here to say his prayers. All alone now, I walked slowly, leaning in to listen for murmured conversations behind the doors. I was mostly met with silence. Some moaning, but I was familiar with that now. And then . . . I paused in front of room thirteen, which had a hexagon with three parallel horizontal lines through it. Was that the jerk’s voice?
“Everyone ready?” he asked. Then someone else said something, too muffled for me to hear. I leaned closer, straining to catch any hint of what was going on inside, what the jerk might be doing and who he was with, anything that would hint at his true identity or give me a clue I could use to find Ben. “This is going to take a few minutes.”
More muffled words. I leaned closer and pressed my ear to the door.
. . . Which wasn’t actually fully closed. The moment I put my weight on it, the thing swung open and I stumbled forward, off-balance in my strappy heels. I had the impression of shocked faces in the candlelight as my arms flailed. Then my toe caught and I went down, landing directly on top of an immense shirtless man. Panicked, I slapped my hands down to push myself up, my palms coming into contact with his bare, hairy flesh. And as soon as they did, a rush of intense sensation shot up my arms and into my chest, like my veins had been injected with liquid lightning. My mouth dropped open, but I couldn’t get my lungs to draw air. My eyes were wide, but all I could see was sparks and flashing colors. My thoughts were like Niagara Falls, roaring and rushing with unstoppable speed straight over the edge, crashing onto rocks, white mist filling the space within my skull.
My head bounced off the floor as I hit the ground. Blinking and gasping, I looked up to see three faces gazing down at me.
Three very angry faces.
“What just happened?” asked the man I’d landed on. His flabby middle was sagging over his belt, and a gold chain held a pendant nestled in his abundant chest hair. “She stole it before I got to feel a thing.”
“Hey, I didn’t steal anything,” I said.
“Shut the fuck up,” a woman snapped. She had garish auburn hair that was clearly dyed and the face of a woman in her late fifties. She was looking at me as if I were a cockroach she’d love to stomp on. “Asa, I demand an explanation. Who is this? Is she a conduit?”
Asa Ward looked down at me with his deep-set honey-brown eyes. “No,” he said, his voice flat. “She’s a goddamn reliquary.”
CHAPTER FIVE
“I’m a what?”
“Shut up,” all three of them said at once.
“Did any of it get into the relic?” the woman asked.
“Hand it over,” said Asa. “Let me see.” He wiggled his fingers impatiently, and the shirtless man pulled the necklace over his head. Asa cradled it in his palm for a brief moment before handing it back to the guy. “Nope. Totally empty.”
“You do not want to screw with me,” the woman said, shooting daggers at Asa.
“I’ll just be going now,” I said quietly. “So sorry for interrupting.” I started to sit up.
Asa pressed the toe of his boot into my shoulder. “Stay. Down. ” He tore his gaze from my face to look at the woman. “I’m sorry about this, Mrs. Lichtel. I’ll recover the magic and get it into the relic as soon as possible. I’ll let you know when it’s done.”
“What about me?” asked the shirtless guy.
Asa patted the man’s shoulder. “Go have a drink on me, Don. But stay at the bar, okay? I’m going to want you back in a bit.” He glanced down at me. “I just need a few minutes.”
Mrs. Lichtel nudged me in the ribs with her red pump. “And her? She stole from me. Who let her in here?”
I looked down at myself. Something had
Each door along the hallway had a symbol on it and a number, and the couple peeled off to go into room six, which had a rough cross carved into the door. I wondered what it meant—that guy sure wasn’t here to say his prayers. All alone now, I walked slowly, leaning in to listen for murmured conversations behind the doors. I was mostly met with silence. Some moaning, but I was familiar with that now. And then . . . I paused in front of room thirteen, which had a hexagon with three parallel horizontal lines through it. Was that the jerk’s voice?
“Everyone ready?” he asked. Then someone else said something, too muffled for me to hear. I leaned closer, straining to catch any hint of what was going on inside, what the jerk might be doing and who he was with, anything that would hint at his true identity or give me a clue I could use to find Ben. “This is going to take a few minutes.”
More muffled words. I leaned closer and pressed my ear to the door.
. . . Which wasn’t actually fully closed. The moment I put my weight on it, the thing swung open and I stumbled forward, off-balance in my strappy heels. I had the impression of shocked faces in the candlelight as my arms flailed. Then my toe caught and I went down, landing directly on top of an immense shirtless man. Panicked, I slapped my hands down to push myself up, my palms coming into contact with his bare, hairy flesh. And as soon as they did, a rush of intense sensation shot up my arms and into my chest, like my veins had been injected with liquid lightning. My mouth dropped open, but I couldn’t get my lungs to draw air. My eyes were wide, but all I could see was sparks and flashing colors. My thoughts were like Niagara Falls, roaring and rushing with unstoppable speed straight over the edge, crashing onto rocks, white mist filling the space within my skull.
My head bounced off the floor as I hit the ground. Blinking and gasping, I looked up to see three faces gazing down at me.
Three very angry faces.
“What just happened?” asked the man I’d landed on. His flabby middle was sagging over his belt, and a gold chain held a pendant nestled in his abundant chest hair. “She stole it before I got to feel a thing.”
“Hey, I didn’t steal anything,” I said.
“Shut the fuck up,” a woman snapped. She had garish auburn hair that was clearly dyed and the face of a woman in her late fifties. She was looking at me as if I were a cockroach she’d love to stomp on. “Asa, I demand an explanation. Who is this? Is she a conduit?”
Asa Ward looked down at me with his deep-set honey-brown eyes. “No,” he said, his voice flat. “She’s a goddamn reliquary.”
CHAPTER FIVE
“I’m a what?”
“Shut up,” all three of them said at once.
“Did any of it get into the relic?” the woman asked.
“Hand it over,” said Asa. “Let me see.” He wiggled his fingers impatiently, and the shirtless man pulled the necklace over his head. Asa cradled it in his palm for a brief moment before handing it back to the guy. “Nope. Totally empty.”
“You do not want to screw with me,” the woman said, shooting daggers at Asa.
“I’ll just be going now,” I said quietly. “So sorry for interrupting.” I started to sit up.
Asa pressed the toe of his boot into my shoulder. “Stay. Down. ” He tore his gaze from my face to look at the woman. “I’m sorry about this, Mrs. Lichtel. I’ll recover the magic and get it into the relic as soon as possible. I’ll let you know when it’s done.”
“What about me?” asked the shirtless guy.
Asa patted the man’s shoulder. “Go have a drink on me, Don. But stay at the bar, okay? I’m going to want you back in a bit.” He glanced down at me. “I just need a few minutes.”
Mrs. Lichtel nudged me in the ribs with her red pump. “And her? She stole from me. Who let her in here?”
I looked down at myself. Something had
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