Chapter 27 #3
What I do feel, though, is the palpable fear radiating off the guy when his eyes whip up to the three of us.
“Some restaurant you’ve got out there,” I say, trying to put both him and myself at ease. Was Fiona right? Is the syrabraxa messing with my senses? “Never seen a place in Camelot this packed on a Monday night.”
“I love an ambush as much as the next guy,” he jokes, voice shaking. “But what’s this about?” He’s not talking to me, but to Deacon. Ward closes the door quietly, then turns the lock until it releases a definite click.
Nicco moves for a drawer in his desk, but Ward shakes his head. “Come on, man, don’t do that. It doesn’t need to be that kind of visit.”
Something is happening here that I’m not privy to. My heart begins to thump.
“Seems you were holding out on me, Nicco.” Deacon strolls across the room to inspect a framed photo of a scantily clad actress holding a handful of fries.
“You?” The djinn jolts up from his desk. His plastic keyboard clatters with the sudden movement. “Never. What I told you last time was true—I haven’t seen the demon you’re looking for.”
I whip my head to Deacon. “You already came to see him?”
Deacon’s hands slide easily into his pockets. “You think I was only interested in finding my brother if you and your goonie squad were around?”
“Please,” Nicco says with a frown. “If I knew anything at all, I’d tell you.”
He’s not lying. I can tell by the steadiness of his eyes. But even though I don’t understand Reid at the moment—where he is, why he hasn’t returned for me, what he’s looking for—he sent me here. Sent me to Nicco specifically. That had to be for a reason.
Deacon said he sold antiques. Black-market items, surely. Could Reid have directed me here for one of those? Maybe to find whatever he was looking for in my dream?
“And yet,” Deacon muses, strolling through the office, “I have information that tells me otherwise.”
The djinn takes another hurried step back as Deacon nears and knocks a stack of menus from his desk to the floor. “Please,” he begins to blubber, comb-over quivering. “Please, I don’t know—”
“The antiques you sell,” I say before Deacon can advance any farther. “Where do you find them?”
An irritated sigh slips out of Deacon. “Vivienne—”
“I can’t reveal my sources.” Nicco dabs at the sweat on his brow. “I’m sure you understand that. I’m a businessman.”
“You ever sell anything that would have significant value to the High Thane’s son?”
Nicco shakes his head vehemently. “Finn? No. Never met the guy, don’t wanna meet the guy.”
I rack my brain. Antiques…What had Dawnmere mentioned in Runes, Relics, and Charms? Anything from ancient necklaces to chalices could be imbued with magic. “You ever sell something that can remove a spell?”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Ward and Deacon exchange a look.
Nicco raises a curious brow, his nerves abating. We’re in his wheelhouse now. “Sure. But you’ll have to be more specific. What kind of spell?”
“Any kind. Tell me what you’ve sold.”
Nicco unsheathes a grin. “How much are you and the White Stag willing to spend on this information?”
If I were Deacon, I would get so sick of dealing with these slimy black-market creeps every damn day. I deck Nicco across the chin as hard as I can. “At least one of those to start.”
Ward chuckles to Deacon beside him. “You were right. She loves the one-liners.”
With a groan of pain, Nicco massages his jaw. Then horror sparks in his beady eyes. “Your girlfriend knocked out my fucking tooth!”
“Yes.” Something like pride swims in Deacon’s rumbling voice. “She’s good at that.”
“I’m not his girlfriend.” Deacon’s goading still prickles my skin. I think you want me.
“This reminds me of a phrase…” Deacon arches a brow in my direction. “Something about ladies and protesting…”
I open my mouth to verbally crucify him but slam it shut. I’d only be proving his point and driving us further away from what matters. “Answer me, Nicco. Books, gems, relics—antiques that remove spells, get to listing.”
“I can find something for any spell you can think of,” Nicco says, rubbing his face. “It’s what I do. But if you want my help, you’re going to have to tell me exactly what you’re looking for.”
Peter and Fiona and the rest of my friends have been at this for months with no luck. This is the closest I’ve come. What is my secret worth to me if I’m no longer sane? “How about a syrabraxa?”
Deacon growls, “Vivienne…”
But I don’t look at him. I know the fury I’ll find waiting for me. This is not the plan. Not only have I outed him as the one hiding me, but Deacon needs the syrabraxa to stay right where it is so I can help him find his imprisoned lover.
But I need my sanity and the High Thane’s son off my ass. I need to return to Harker, my friends, my family. Begin hunting again. Find Reid. I need my life back.
Nicco’s eyes grow wide with fear. More than when we first walked in. “You’re her…” he mutters. “The one the High Thane’s looking for. You…need to go. You need to go now.”
“We will,” I assure him. “After you tell me how to get this thing out of me.”