Chapter 11 #2
I swiveled in the chair. “The meeting is taking place in here?”
“The square outside. I decided to get here early.”
“Dinner and a show.” I surveyed the room. “It’s nice for a basement.”
“Did you expect a damp floor and chains?”
“Hard to know with you.”
He looked affronted. “I’m the Protector.”
“You’re also the son of Enmesharra, who doesn’t have the sunniest reputation.”
His face darkened. “I’m not my father.”
“I’m beginning to believe it.”
That seemed to settle him. “I wasn’t even raised alongside my brothers.”
He was the youngest, with a different mother—that much I remembered.
“No one intended for me to inherit royal duties,” he continued. “Neither did I, for that matter. I’m more interested in freedom than obligation.”
“Yet here you are.”
Regret tainted his smile. “Here I am.”
More common ground. I wanted to tell him as much, but I stopped myself. One offhand remark would invite too many questions. Distance was better for both of us.
Vale gestured to the wine. “Can I interest you in a glass?”
“Drinking on the job, Vale? Whatever next?”
He uncorked the bottle. “Do you know how hard it is to get a demigod drunk?”
“I’ve never tried.”
“What about half Gorgons? High tolerance level?”
“Moderate.”
“One glass should be fine, then, if you want to keep your wits about you.”
“My wits are always about me.” I nodded at the glass. “Go on, then. I wouldn’t want your whole bottle to go to waste.”
He ordered the grilled pork tenderloin, and I ordered the shrimp and scallops.
“The other victims only communicated with the suspect online. Why do you suppose they’re willing to meet in person this time?” I asked.
“Desperation. We only agreed to the sale if they were willing to do the exchange in person. Told them we’d been burned by a previous transaction and wanted to count the money first.”
I speared another shrimp. “The money doesn’t transform until later, so I guess they decided the potential gain outweighed the risk of being identified.”
“They want to get their hands on this artifact. The question is—why is it so important to them?”
“Maybe they’re history buffs. Or collectors. Both can be obsessive.” I omitted any mention of Thornborn. I’d know for certain soon enough.
We stopped talking when the food arrived, because we didn’t want our conversation to be overheard, but also because the food was outstanding. I couldn’t remember the last time I had such a mouthwatering meal. I almost felt sad when I glimpsed the bottom of my plate.
“How much time do we have?” I asked. I hadn’t expected to enjoy a full meal upon arrival.
“No rush.”
I squinted at him. “Exactly how much of a cushion did you tack on?”
He refilled his wine glass. “Two hours.”
I nearly spat out a shrimp. “Vale, is this a date?”
His expression gave nothing away. “What makes you ask that?”
“You invited me here for a sting operation, yet somehow we’re sharing an upscale dinner and a bottle of wine.”
“If I recall correctly, you invited yourself.”
“Not to dinner. And I didn’t get the impression you were planning to be a part of the sting. Did you decide to show up because of me?”
“Yes.”
I didn’t expect such a blunt and honest answer. “I’m sorry, what now?”
“I was going to let my team handle it and report back. I changed my mind when you said you were coming.”
I stared at him, slack-jawed. “Why?”
“Because I find you interesting.”
I squirmed. Interesting was bad. I couldn’t afford to engage anyone’s curiosity, least of all the Protector of the Region’s. “Like a bug under a microscope?”
“I don’t find bugs interesting, with the exception of bees. Did you know they have two stomachs?”
“No, but I wish I had two stomachs right now.” I’d seen the dessert menu and the choices were glorious.
Vale’s phone screen brightened. “Showtime.” He pushed back his chair and stood.
“Don’t we need to pay the bill first?”
“It’s taken care of.”
Of course it was. “Thank you for dinner. It was the best meal I’ve had in ages.”
“Good. In that case, would you like to do this again?”
I searched for the right words but came up empty. “I can’t, Vale.”
“Are you seeing someone? The doctor from the island?”
“No. There’s no one else.”
“Glad to hear it.” He waited for me to stand.
“I didn’t say that to give you hope,” I said, rising to my feet. “It’s just the truth.”
“But not the whole truth.” He gave me a pointed look as we exited the building. “I can tell you’re hiding something, Maya. I’m the Protector. It’s my job to know.”
“You’re not my Protector,” I shot back. “Evermore is autonomous, or it was until you insisted on muscling your way in.”
“Why do you resist me? People call my headquarters every day, begging for our assistance. I offer it to you freely, ahead of everyone else, yet you act like I’m burdening you with my extensive resources.”
“I don’t need you or your extensive resources, Vale.”
“Then why are you here? Why did you come?”
“For Stella.”
“Bullshit.”
Our intense staring contest was interrupted by a guttural throat clearing. Cowboy lingered outside, encased in shadows. “Um, boss? Hate to interrupt whatever this is, but Gage is talking with our guy right now.”
“I got your message,” Vale ground out, tearing his gaze away from me.
I forced my attention away from the most infuriating demigod on earth to look for Gage and the mystery buyer.
I spotted the faerie’s familiar outline across the square, tucked in a corner.
He stood with his back to us, conversing with another man.
A few steps to the side and I registered the angular face of his buyer.
Damn. Another day, another fae. But was he Thornborn? That was the question I needed answered.
Cowboy cast a sidelong glance at Vale. “Should we grab him now or wait for the money to change hands?”
“Give it a minute,” Vale said, watching carefully.
“If the guy knows his shit, he’ll figure out quickly the stone is a fake,” Cowboy said.
“Doesn’t matter. There are more of us than there are of him.”
“No.”
Both men turned to look at me.
“Oh, did I say that out loud?”
“Care to elaborate?” Vale asked.
“Your buyer is a faerie. The odds of him showing up alone are almost nonexistent.”
Vale scanned the square’s perimeter. “I don’t see anyone.”
“Trust me. They’re here, same as us.”
Vale’s cheek muscle pulsed. “Thornborn again?”
“I’m not sure yet, but the treaty stone plus the eager faerie buyer…The odds are decent.”
His blue eyes frosted over. “That’s the real reason you came, isn’t it? You suspected Thornborn.”
“Well, it wasn’t for the dinner I didn’t know I was having.”
Cowboy kept his gaze on Gage and the mysterious buyer. “What do you want to do, boss?”
Vale snapped to attention. “You take the left side. I’ll go right. Maya, stay here.”
“Like hell.”
“I’m not trying to keep you out of the fight,” Vale said. “I’m trying to cover the entire perimeter.”
“Oh, right.”
“Maintain your position until my signal.”
But there was no chance to separate. Three more fae stepped out of thin air and into the square.
In their trench coats and boots, they looked out of place in a city filled with T-shirt-clad tourists and dog walkers.
Thankfully, it was late enough now that we were the only people in view, because the bubble of tension was about to burst.
“You saw that, right?” Cowboy asked, keeping his eyes trained on the encroaching fae. “Like freakin’ magicians.”
Four fae against one. They really wanted that stone. These definitely weren’t the actions of casual collectors or history buffs.
“We need to get over there,” Cowboy said, shoulders tensing. “Gage is in trouble.”
I hated to be the bearer of bad news, but Gage wasn’t the only one.