Page 26 of Shield of Fire

“Yes, but we make no claim to rule the black market.”

“This has nothing to do with the broader market, because the Hephaestus Eyes would never reach it.”

“What about the shield itself?”

Her gaze flicked back to mine. “I’ve not heard any whispers about it, either now or back then, but there was a gentleman in here the other day seeking information about it.”

“Did you get his name?”

There was something close to amusement in her gaze, and I had a feeling I wouldn’t like her answer.

“Indeed, I did.” She paused, no doubt for dramatic effect. “In fact, he left a business card.”

She reached under the counter, then handed me a small black card. Printed on it, in simple white cursive font, was a name:

Eljin Lavigne, Antiquarian, National Fae Museum.

The man who just happened to be my other lover.

Chapter

Six

What the fuck was he doing talking to Kaitlyn about the shield? He was Lugh’s assistant, having recently stepped into the position after Nialle—Lugh’s coworker and longtime friend—had been murdered. Neither Lugh nor Nialle had been researching the shield as far as I was aware, so there was absolutely no legit reason for Eljin to be doing so.

There were plenty of not so legit reasons, however, including the possibility of him working for the other side. He had been vetted by Rogan, after all.

“Do we know the name?” Mathi asked.

“I do.” I waved the card lightly. “Mind if I keep this?”

“Feel free. I am unlikely to ever deal with the museum or any of its employees, however tall, muscular, and threatening they are.”

I raised my eyebrows. She obviously meant my brother, because there weren’t any other tall, muscular men working the antiquarian department, and Eljin, for all his good looks, was a typical Tàileach pixie. And while Lugh certainly could be threatening if the occasion warranted it, I just couldn’t imagine him doing so with someone like Kaitlyn—not when there were other means to get what he wanted. This place might be filled with all manner of protections, but Lugh was a very experienced antiquarian, and his finds didn’t always come from treasure hunts in remote places but the well-protected vaults of black-market collectors.

“If you come across any information about the shield or the rubies,” I said, “call me. You have the number.”

“I do, and I might even use it if I hear something.”

“I suggest you make that ‘might’ a ‘will,’ or the next time someone attempts to kill you, I won’t be in such a rush to save you.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Does that not invoke the whole pixie blood curse thing?”

I gave her a sweet but totally insincere smile. “Only when we directly cause a death. It wouldn’t apply if, say, my phone went dead, or I got stuck in traffic.”

“For a curse, it seems to have quite a few ‘get out of jail free’ cards.”

“Because the gods didn’t hate us enough to be utter assholes.” I tucked the business card into my pocket and pushed away from the counter. “If I were you, I’d be making yourself scarce for a few days. If Ka-hal is indeed the elf we’re looking for, then the magic protecting this place won’t withstand the ruby-gifted power he can bring to bear.”

“That is a bit of information you should have mentioned first up, as it would have totally changed my responses.”

“Meaning you suddenly remember Ka-hal’s contact details?” Mathi asked coolly. “What a surprise.”

“I spoke the truth in that. However, there are few within the black-market economy—the Lùtairs aside—with the capacity to deal with such an item. I will contact them and request information.”

“And pass it on?” Mathi said.

“A favor done is a favor owed,” she said. Her gaze was on Mathi, but I had no doubt she was talking to me. “Perhaps one day you could help me out.”

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