Chapter Seventeen #2
“Even more valuable if its origins can be traced,” I surmised.
Mina frowned. “We need to identify bidder 2641.”
The light blinked again, and Monsieur Robert reported his latest bid.
“€30,000,” the vampire countered, giving Celeste the evil eye.
This was definitely not going as they had hoped.
“€35,000,” Monsieur Robert read from the screen.
Gasps erupted when the vampire leapfrogged Anonymous’s next bid, going straight to €50,000.
“I wonder what the record at Chez Robert is,” Bene murmured.
Judging by the auctioneer’s expression, they were close to breaking it.
Monsieur Robert dabbed sweat from his shiny forehead as the next bid appeared on his device. “€60,000.”
“€75,000,” the vampire growled.
Even the auctioneer stared.
My mind spun, spitting out different theories, but Mina and Henrik were ahead of me.
“Okay. So, Celeste brought the painting to this antique shop so Anatole could buy it with an official bill of sale,” Mina said.
Henrik nodded. “And not just any antique shop, but an out-of-the-way one. That suggests they wanted it sold cheaply and discreetly.”
Bene snorted as bidding hit €80,000. “Well, that’s not happening.”
He pointed as astonished customers reached for their phones.
Anatole pulled out his phone and typed frantically.
“Looks like he’s close to the limit Alexandre Ernaux gave him,” Henrik surmised.
Ernaux must have given the go-ahead, because Anatole raised his bid to €85,000.
“€85,000 is a lot of money, but Celeste could have easily stolen more from Gordon,” Mina decided. “How is all this worth her trouble?”
“It’s probably just a fraction of what she will receive from Alexandre in a separate, private transaction,” Henrik said. “But only if things go to plan.”
Marius chuckled bitterly. “Well, they aren’t.”
“For the record, Celeste, I’m not to blame this time,” Mina huffed bitterly at the screen.
“She can’t hear you,” Gen pointed out.
“I wish she could,” Mina growled.
The bids continued inching up, surpassing €90,000.
“€91,000,” the astonished auctioneer read from his screen.
If a vampire’s looks could kill, Celeste would have been facedown in a pool of blood.
“I wouldn’t want to be Celeste now,” Bene muttered. “Anatole’s boss will be furious if this deal doesn’t go through.”
Gen shivered. “Maybe he’ll send her after whoever buys the painting.”
Henrik snorted. “More probably, he’ll feed her to his coven.”
Gen paled. “Would he?”
Henrik gave her an obnoxious look that said, Sometimes, I marvel that you’re still alive.
He had a point, but I would take Gen’s good heart and optimism over his dark, gloomy soul any day.
“€92,000,” the auctioneer acknowledged Anatole’s bid.
Anonymous countered immediately with €93,000.
“Someone really wants that painting,” Bene muttered.
The auctioneer looked at Anatole. “Do I have €94,000?”
Everyone in the room stared, giving him more attention than any self-respecting vampire liked.
Gripping the armrests of his chair tightly, Anatole nodded.
“I have €94,000,” Monsieur Robert acknowledged.
Anonymous came back with €95,000.
Anatole paced around the back of the room with his phone at his ear.
“Much as I love to see him sweat, something tells me this will only make things harder for us,” Marius muttered.
I had the same sinking feeling. Gordon wanted us to identify who was interested in the painting, assuming there would only be one party. Now, we had a vampire and an anonymous bidder to hunt down.
“I say we go to Plan B,” Bene said. “Grab the painting and run.”
I grabbed my phone and texted Gordon. Any word on the anonymous bidder?
He called back, because why miss the opportunity to bark at me personally?
“No word on Anonymous yet. But whatever happens, do not let that painting out of your sight. Do you hear me?” he thundered.
“Benedict suggests Plan B, sir,” I said.
Bene gave me a murderous look. I shrugged, waiting.
Gordon took a hell of a long time answering. So long, I had to speak up again.
“Sir, please advise. Do you want us to secure the asset or maintain surveillance?”
Secure the asset, Gen’s eyes pleaded.
I felt for her, but I also knew the risks that came with that kind of action. Did she?
“Do I have €96,000?” the auctioneer asked Anatole.
He cupped a hand over his mouth, whispering urgently over the phone.
“Last call, sir,” the auctioneer offered. “I have €95,000. Will you bid?”
I held my breath, waiting for Gordon to respond.
Anatole stared at the phone, then stuck it in his pocket and shook his head. No. He strode out of the shop, furious, with a very flustered Celeste on his heels.
“Sold to bidder 2641 for €95,000,” the auctioneer announced.
I gripped my phone harder, impatient for Gordon’s reply. “How would you like to proceed, sir?”
Grab Dad’s painting, Gen’s expression begged.
Gordon waited a split second longer, then grunted, “Maintain surveillance.”
I hung up and stood, exchanging wary looks with Marius.
I don’t like this, I muttered into his mind.
He scowled. Typical Gordon shitshow. What’s to like?
Nothing. Especially knowing how Gen and Mina would react.