Reliquary (Reliquary Series Book 1) Page 8

  After asking a few more friendly questions and getting nothing more than annoyed grunts in return, I gave up. Both lulled and unnerved by the silence, I eventually dozed off, waking only to the sound of a siren. We were well into Chicago, the skyline looming off to our left. Asa had finished the green concoction and was munching shelled walnuts. I was starting to wish I’d thought to bring a bag of chips or something. “So, do I get to know where we’re going?”

  “Our first stop is right up the road here.”

  “It speaks,” I murmured.

  Asa snorted. “It hopes you will pull some of the same shit you did last night at the club. Think you can do it?” He took an exit and headed into an industrial area. We passed a few gritty shops with bars on the windows.

  “I can try.” I bit my lip as he pulled into an alley lined with “No Parking” signs.

  “Gracie, stay,” he said, reaching into the center console and producing a bag full of brown lumps. He pulled out one, and I caught the scent of pumpkin and cinnamon. Homemade doggie biscuits? He tossed the treat at her and she caught it, eagerly crunching it down before yipping at him. He rewarded her with a second and a third before saying, “That’s enough. But feel free to eat anyone who breaks in.”

  She growled, and Asa gave her a scratch between her mangled, barely there ears. “That’s my girl.”

  I was getting the distinct impression that Asa liked Gracie a lot more than he liked his fellow humans. He crammed the bag back into the console and turned to me, then pointed at a sign on a shop across the street that said, “Vang’s Jewelry and Loan.”

  “I want you to go in there, find the shiniest and most expensive piece of jewelry in the shop, and get as much info about it as you can. Every single detail—where’d it come from, what’s it made of, who fucking designed it, whatever you can think of. Anything would be helpful.”

  “I’m looking for a relic?”

  He nodded solemnly. “Absolutely.”

  “And I’m supposed to buy it?”

  He shook his head. “This is purely reconnaissance.”

  My eyes narrowed. “Is what I’m doing illegal?”

  “Being a discerning customer?” He snorted as he opened his door. “Let’s go.”

  I hopped out of the van and smoothed down the folds of my sundress. It was late afternoon, but all the cement intensified the heat, filling the alley with the scent of rotting garbage. I headed for the sidewalk as Asa lounged against the building beneath the shadow of an awning. “Aren’t you coming?”

  “I’ll be there in a minute. I just have to make a call.” He stuck his hand in one of his front pockets.

  “I’m going in alone?”

  “Go on,” he said, waving me toward the shop. “I’m depending on you for important information.”

  I frowned, but jogged across the street, my purse tucked under my arm. It didn’t seem like a terrible neighborhood, but it was grimy and urban and reminded me of how sheltered I was. Asa’s words about my small-town self still burned in my brain, and I yanked the door of the shop open before I could pause and look back. I was going to prove him wrong.

  I’d never been in a pawnshop before. Rows of guitars hung from the ceiling along one wall, and behind a counter in the back, all sorts of guns were on display. Stereo equipment, televisions, microwaves, and other small appliances cluttered the two aisles that ran down the center of the space. An Asian man with slicked-back ebony hair and a neatly trimmed goatee stared at me from his spot on a stool behind the counter. In front of him, a low glass cabinet was filled with jewelry. Target acquired. I strolled forward and managed to smile. “Hi there.”

  “Can I help you?”

  I looked down at the jewelry in the case, eyeing the price tags. “I’m looking for a gift for my mom. Her fiftieth birthday is next week. Can I take a look at some of these?”

  “Sure,” he said. His tone wasn’t unfriendly, but it certainly was cautious. “Anything in particular?”

  I pointed at the two that were the most expensive—and the exact same price. One had a big sapphire, and the other held a small blood-red ruby. I had no idea which one was the relic Asa was looking for, but maybe if I gathered enough intel, he could figure it out. The shopkeeper unlocked the case and pulled them out, and I lifted the ruby pendant to the light. “Who is the designer on this one?”

  “No idea.”

  “Do you know where the ruby came from?”

  “Nope.”

  “Is this chain . . . ?”

  “Gold.”

  “Fourteen karat? Eighteen? Twenty-four?”

  “No clue.”

  I looked up from the pendant. “How do you know what to charge?”

  “Would you pay four eighty-five for it?”

  I shrugged. “Maybe.”

  “There you go.”

  The bell on the door jingled, and I glanced over my shoulder to see a tall silhouette disappear behind a row of synthesizers. The shopkeeper leaned to the side to see who it was, and I scooped up the sapphire. “This looks nice. Are these little stones real diamonds?”

  Still looking toward the front of the store, he started to come out from behind the counter. “Um, give me a sec.”

  “I think I’m going to try this on,” I said, unhooking the clasp on the sapphire necklace. “Do you have a mirror?”

  He looked back at me, his brow furrowed. “I thought it was for your mother.”

  “It is. I want to see how it looks on . . . a neck.” I held it up. Maybe if it did carry some magic, the guy would shy away from it? Or . . . want to wear it? “Could you try it on for me so I can see?” I leaned forward as if I were going to encircle his neck, and he took a big step back.

  “Let me see if there’s a mirror under here,” he said, kneeling behind the counter. I turned to see Asa duck out the door again, leaving the bell jingling against the glass. What was he doing?

  The shopkeeper popped up again, his eyes narrowed. “Hang on.”

  He hurried to the aisle where Asa had just been. I followed him and looked over a long shelf of records and books. “Is everything okay?”

  He glanced at me like he was surprised I was still there. “What? Yeah . . .” He walked to the front door of the shop and peered out, then cursed loudly as he pounded the glass. “Vang!” he shouted as he came jogging up the aisle toward the counter again. “Ward was just in here!”

  I took a step back from the counter, leaving the necklaces spread on its surface as a gravelly voice came from behind a door at the back marked “Office.”

  “I told that bastard that if he came back, I’d fucking shoot him!”

  “Fuck,” said the counter guy. “I just saw his van.”

  My heart skipped. “You know, I think I might get my mom a nice sweater instead,” I said quietly, turning for the door as I realized what had just happened. That bastard.

  “Hey . . . ,” said the guy, the word drawn out with suspicion that only quickened my steps. “Hey! You’re working with Ward!”

  “Bye! Thank you! Have a nice day,” I chirped as I hit the door, bursting through it and then coming to an abrupt stop.

  Asa’s van was gone. I stared at the place it had been and heard the door behind me jingle. “Stop,” shouted the counter guy.

  I took off running up the street with no idea where I was or where I should go. A group of guys hanging out at the corner stared at me as I sprinted through an intersection and ran up the block, footsteps right behind me. When I leaped out into the next intersection, I was lucky I didn’t get crushed. The minivan came to a lurching stop right in front of me, the side door open. “Inside!” Asa shouted.

  I dove on top of my suitcase as a hand closed around my ankle, but as soon as it did, Gracie, who had been crouched just behind the door, lunged across my calves. With a yelp, the counter guy let go. Asa hit the gas and the van flew forward. He blew a stop sign and hooked around a corner. I held on to the back of his seat and finally managed to get the side door shut. Sweating
, my eyes burning and my ears ringing, I glared at the back of his head.

  “What the hell was that?” My voice cracked over my fury. “You used me as a decoy?”

  Asa chuckled. “‘I want to see how it looks on . . . a neck,’” he said, mimicking my voice. “I swear, you are something else.”

  I looked at Gracie. “How can you stand him?”

  She grinned at me and laid her head on my lap, drooling on my skirt. I laid my hand on her silky back and breathed. “You lied to me. You stole something, didn’t you?”

  “Borrowed, more like,” he replied, weaving in and out of the chaotic traffic. “I plan to return it.” He gestured at the passenger seat.

  It was a record. CeeLo Green. It was called F**k You!

  “Seems appropriate,” I muttered. “Are you a fan?”

  “What?” He jumped a curb, pulled the van into another alley between two tall buildings, and parked it behind a Dumpster. “Oh, no, we’re not going to listen to it.”

  He cut the engine and turned, his brown eyes bright with glee. “Time to open that vault of yours, Mattie.” He held up the record. “I need to make a deposit.”

  A few minutes later, I was dragging my suitcase up a dark stairwell, huffing like I’d run a mile, and badly needing a shower. My hair frizzed out around my face and lay heavy and damp on the back of my sweaty neck. My ankles hurt—these sandals were not jogging shoes on their best day. Gracie was waiting on the landing, saliva dripping from her lolling tongue. “You want to help me with this?” I asked her.

  “Can’t. She’s got back problems,” Asa said breezily as he jogged up the flight above me.

  “Is this some kind of test?” I snapped at him.

  “I’m not the one who decided to bring along a seventy-pound suitcase,” he replied. “Don’t worry. Only two more floors.”

  “Why isn’t there an elevator?”

  “There is an elevator, but it has functional cameras.”

  I bit back a curse and kept lugging the case. “This is for you, Ben,” I muttered. “And you will spend the rest of your life thanking me.”

  I sagged with relief when I reached a landing to find Asa holding the door open. He had a small duffel bag slung across his chest. “Do you live here?” I asked.

  “Nope.” He headed down a hallway with walls coated in peeling orange paint and floors covered in dingy, torn carpeting. The apartment numbers indicated we were on the fifth floor. “But we’re staying here tonight.”

  “Oh, good. I wasn’t going to be surprised if you’d made me drag this thing up five flights of stairs just for a laugh.”

  “I never do anything just for a laugh.” We reached apartment 514 and he knocked. “Daria,” he called.

  The door swung open to reveal one of the tallest women I had ever seen. She was wearing a red silk robe, and her long, wavy black hair was pulled back in a low ponytail, accentuating a square jaw and a prominent Adam’s apple. “Asa,” she said in a surprisingly sonorous voice, pulling him into a hug that seemed full of genuine affection. “It’s been too long.”

  “I know. I had to clear out for a while.” Asa pulled back and gestured at me. “Daria, this is Mattie.”

  Daria’s pale-green eyes traveled from my frizzy hair to my swollen feet. “Rough day, honey?” she asked as she leaned down to offer Gracie her hand to sniff.

  “There’s room for improvement,” I said, throwing Asa an irritable glance.

  “Well, let’s hope we can make it better. Come on in.” Daria moved aside to let us into her spacious apartment, which was about ten times nicer than the hallway outside, complete with hardwood floors and funky modernist paintings of jazz musicians on the wall. Asa dropped his duffel bag next to the couch, and Gracie hopped up on it and laid her head on the arm, looking very much at home.

  Daria gestured at me. “She’s the reliquary?”

  “Yup,” said Asa. “Also an excellent decoy.”

  “It looks like you made the poor dear do all the work.” Daria headed into the kitchen and pulled a glass from one of her cabinets.

  “Yup,” I said, and gratefully accepted the ice water she brought me a moment later.

  Daria smiled at me and then nodded toward the CeeLo vinyl. “So that’s it? Esteban had a sense of humor—may he rest in peace.”

  Asa looked down at the record. “No kidding. But I could feel it as soon as I walked into the place. Like it was calling my name.”

  “So strange that it’s all that’s left of him,” Daria murmured.

  I took a quick sip of water to calm a sudden queasiness. “Wait, so basically I’ll be housing some dead guy’s magic?”

  Asa shrugged. Daria pulled the edge of her robe a little higher over her breasts. “Shall we get this done?”

  Asa glanced at me and nodded. “We’d better. That’ll give us a few hours before we need to drop it off, and I need the time.”

  As Daria wheeled my suitcase into a room down the hallway, I said, “I want to clean up and change first.”

  Asa spun the record case on his finger. “I think you’ll want to wait until after.”

  I eyed the record. “Why?”

  He caught it and held it up, the F**k You! on the cover facing me. “This is going to be intense.”

  Daria emerged from the hallway. “Where do you want to be, honey?” she asked me. “What makes you most comfortable?”

  She was a conduit. Like Don. Except she smelled a lot better and actually cared about my comfort. “I’m flexible,” I said.

  Daria smiled. “I mean—do you like to lie down? Sit up?”

  “No idea. I’m a little new to this.”

  Daria frowned and gave Asa a skeptical look. “Darling, this isn’t newbie magic.”

  “She’s a lot stronger than she looks,” Asa said. “You’ll see.”

  “I’m a bank vault, apparently,” I added.

  Daria sank down gracefully into her couch and patted the cushion next to her. “If you’re sure.” She still looked doubtful. Even Gracie whined and slunk off the couch, moving to stand between Asa’s legs.

  I sat down next to Daria, my heart hammering. Last night, the magic had lit up the inside of my skull so brightly that I wouldn’t have been shocked to hear that my eyes were glowing, and this was going to be more intense? “Wait,” I said as Asa came forward, carefully slipping the round edge of the vinyl from its case without actually touching it. “What kind of magic is this?”

  Asa’s eyes met mine. “Emotion sensing.”

  Daria rolled her head around. “It’s my favorite,” she said to me. “Such a rush. Ready?”

  I looked from Asa to the vinyl to Daria. “I guess?”

  Daria put her arm around me, her large, warm hand cupping my bare shoulder. “See you on the other side.” Her fingers pinched closed over the shiny black vinyl.

  “Wait—I—”

  When I was little, my parents took me to North Carolina, to a sandy beach with lapping waves. I was splashing in the surf, having the time of my life, when a wave crashed over me and pulled me under. I remember the water going up my nose, the sand scoring my bare skin, the world tumbling and spinning until I didn’t know the sky from the ground.

  That experience was awesome compared to this.

  My throat closed and my chest squeezed so tight that it felt like my ribs were breaking. A massive wave of sorrow crashed over me, stinging my eyes and turning my thoughts so black that I knew that everyone I loved had died, that no one cared about me, that I was going to be alone forever. And as quickly as I’d accepted that truth, another wave pounded me: incredible anger, filling my brain with slashing knives and dreams of choking the life out of faceless enemies. But before I could sink my teeth into the hatred, it turned to joy, lifting me up so high that I was sure I could kiss the clouds until I fell just as fast, drowning in jealousy. On and on it went, shooting up and down my limbs, winding around my neck.

  And then I found myself blinking up at a small brown water stain on the ceilin
g. My face was wet with tears, my nose was running, and my chest was heaving. The room spun as I lifted my head.

  “All set,” said Asa.

  Daria moaned, and I turned to see she had fallen away from me. Her robe had gaped open, and I stared down at a rounded lump lying on the floor. As I squinted at it, Asa quickly leaned down, picked it up, and respectfully slipped it into her bra, filling out the cup again. Then he pulled her robe closed and gave me a hard look, as if daring me to comment.

  Daria was shaking as she pushed herself upright. “Oh my God,” she whispered, clutching at her robe. “You weren’t kidding.”

  I let out a shuddery breath that ended in a choked sob. Daria let out a sympathetic noise. “Aw, Asa . . . look at her.” She handed me a tissue from a box next to the couch.

  Asa had the decency to look a little ashamed. He ran the toe of his boot along the tattered edge of Daria’s area rug. “She’s fine.”

  “Screw you,” I whispered, then noisily blew my nose.

  Asa knelt in front of me, and his eyes met mine. “You’re fine, Mattie.” His hand closed around my fingers, and his grip tightened when I tried to pull away. “Shh. I just need to make sure it’s all there.” He closed his eyes. “Damn. I don’t even know how you do that,” he said quietly. “It’s barely detectable.”

  “But it’s all in there?” Daria asked, eyeing the vinyl, which Asa had set on the counter.

  “Yeah.” Asa stood up and tugged at my hand, pulling me to my feet and looking down at me. “Now I’ll bet you want that shower.”

  “Perceptive,” I whispered.

  He squeezed my hand and let it go. “Good. When you’re ready, I’ll take you out to dinner in Chinatown.”