“The thieves are searching for a key. We’ve been chasing shipments across the globe in the hope of finding it before they do, but we haven’t had any success,” he reveals in frustration. He pulls out his phone. “In the catalog, it states a shipment of keys being sent to you and this university, but there were none in the crate.”
My brows draw together. “A key? What kind?” When he merely stares at me, I shake my head in exasperation, then pull the manifest out of my pocket. “This is the manifest. As you just saw, the students opened the crate a few minutes ago. Everything on this list matches the items in the list.”
His timing is impeccable. Too impeccable. He knew they would be opening the crate today, and he wanted to be here to see the contents for himself. Disappointed, I hand him the paper.
He takes the list and compares it to the catalog on his phone. “The only difference is the set of keys.” Setting them both on the table, he points out the difference. “Why would it be on the list if it wasn’t in the crate?”
Before I can say anything, he answers his own question. “Either someone added the keys and stole them at customs thenight before last, or it’s a deliberate attempt to get us to follow a false trail.” He compresses his lips together.
That’s very specific and extremely concerning. How did he know what happened at customs? “Why would you think they had been stolen at customs? The box was sealed when it arrived here today… the same seal I placed on it in London. The university has one specifically for customs.” I pull out my phone and tap on photos. “See. I took these in London. You can see the museum floor beneath the crate.”
He lays my phone on the table and swipes through the images. “Somebody was at customs. I know that for a fact, because our team gave chase. Unfortunately, we didn’t catch them, so we can’t know for sure if they stole anything.”
The black SUV. Also, the man in the warehouse? Maybe.Damn, that’s concerning.But I don’t have time to think about it. Nor do I want to tip him off.
“Sounds exciting.” I bet few get the best of Jamison de Vere, head of council security. “You’re right. Someone changed the catalog. I didn’t add the keys to the catalog, nor did I add them to the shipment, and then steal them. But somebody did.” I bite the inside of my cheek while I think for a minute. “I only gave academic faculty access to the catalog. Myself, Dr. Kline, Dr. Samuels, and their two assistants. But if this human organization is resourceful, they could have easily hacked into the system.”
“Your shipment is the only inaccurate one so far,” he informs me with a speculative gleam in his eyes. “It’s even more interesting when you factor in your responsibility for the accuracy of the catalog.”
I cock my head to the side and stare into his blue eyes. If I weren’t a thief, I would be offended. But technically, I am, so I’ll let most of his statement slide. “If I were trying to set someone up, I’d look for the most obvious person. Wouldn’t you?” Timeto end this fishing expedition before he picks up on something I don’t want him to know.
Picking up my phone, I move closer to him. In my two-inch heels, we’re almost the same height, which must put him around six feet. “It was wonderful to see you, Jamison.” He stiffens when I lean forward, but I simply place a kiss on his right cheek, then his left.
His fingers slide around my wrist. “Have dinner with me.”
Don’t tempt me.One of the most interesting men I’ve met in a while, and I have to turn him down. I laugh. “It would be an interrogation, not a date.”
I leave him standing there with a look of speculation on his face and return to the students. As I review their placards, I see him stalk from the room, magic bristling and face set in stone.
Once the pieces are in the museum, I head to my office to contemplate Jamison’s information. My fingers twitch with the need to delve into this deeper. There are a few places I have access to that Jamison doesn’t, and I want to dive into this mess from the inside.
As I turn to leave for the day, I notice the white, handmade clay dish on the edge of my desk has been moved. It’s only a centimeter off, but it’s been sitting on my desk for two years in the exact same spot. The dust around the base shows a distinct line. Someone has been in here. I set my bag down, place it back in position, and walk around my desk. Opening drawers, I systematically go through the contents. Everything is here. If I hadn’t seen the dish, I would never have guessed someone had gone through my things.
Jamison is thorough, I muse.
With a shake of my head, I head home. The only thing of value in my office is the white trinket dish. It’s the first magical object I found and removed a curse from… and it’s a constantreminder of my real life behind the cover of this temporary facade.
I walk out to my car. As I get in, I see Dr. Wylde striding over to a sleek black luxury car. Not once does he look my way, but I watch his long legs eat up the distance. Two tantalizing supernatural men in one day. I doubt it’s a coincidence. Did Jamison send him to spy on me or someone else? Possibly the same person who added those keys to the catalog? I knew accepting Dr. Samuels’ invitation was a risk, but I didn’t expect it to put me on the council’s watchlist. I’m also having a hard time believing humans are behind it all.
When I get home, I pull out my laptop and enter my credentials into the London Museum’s faculty portal. Thankfully, I’ve only been gone a week, and the IT department hasn’t cut off my access. Once in, I’m scrolling through all the different versions of the catalog. Every day, we would pick up the previous day’s version and create a new one. A way to maintain the integrity of the catalog.
I scroll to the section where the catalog lists the items being sent to my university. The last change was the day before it shipped. The keys were added to the list, and the change…was made by…me. I stare at the entry, trying to figure out how they did it. Either someone used my computer, or they hacked into it. Hacking feels unlikely, given the small change.
It takes about half an hour, but I go back through every document and version to review all the changes “I” made and find several false notes. Most were minor. Changed, then changed back. Maybe they were testing the system or checking to see if I’d notice. On the same day “I” added keys to my shipment, “I” also added a set to Kline’s, as well as a Ming vase.
This was clearly an inside job. I rarely saw Dr. Kline or Dr. Samuels. Both were interested in the larger pieces, particularly items with supernatural origins. Samuels’ assistant, Conor, ayoung mage from Scotland, did his tasks as quickly as possible so he could get out of work early and meet his friends at the pub. Sia, a demon and Kline’s assistant, had the most access to my computer. Quiet. Studious. She said little but worked hard. It wouldn’t be the first time an archaeology student had taken something to sell, but she doesn’t really fit the profile. It’s usually the brash know-it-alls who take the chance, but maybe the lure of the black market and a huge financial payout trumped her integrity.
As I told Jamison, it’s likely I’m being used as a diversion to whatever is really happening, although I’m curious why someone would be after this one item. There were few magical keys in the artifacts, and I didn’t sense any with real power. Biting my lip, I exit the program.
When I get back to the homepage, I see the announcement I missed the first time. The auction is being held tomorrow. I wonder if Jamison and his team will be there to secure it?
Speaking of delicious men, I leave the museum’s site, open a search engine, type “Dr. Hawthorne Wylde,” and hit enter.
The only images of him online are recent pictures, but that’s to be expected. The council employs a huge tech team whose sole job is to remove outdated information about supernaturals. It wouldn’t be good if a photo from 1910 surfaced with Hawthorne’s face. Although it’s happened more than they might wish.
Media says he’s an eligible bachelor from London. There’s a picture of him squatting beside a bench in the park with his face in a bush. I laugh. He really does love plants. I delve a little deeper. A PhD from the University of Manchester in Plant Science. And a second PhD from the University of Galway in AgriBiosciences. There’s a serious brain in that sexy man.Mm, I love smart.
There’s not much else here. I wonder when he came through the portal. If it was a long time ago, he’s probably had many aliases and a slew of degrees. When you’re immortal, you have to do something to occupy yourself.
