Page 11 of Sacrifice

Lunchtime took forever to come,but on the tick of midday, Eve was out of the stockroom and making for the staff canteen. Loud and busy, it offered little potential for recuperation, so she got her juice and cheese and pickle sandwich to go. On perkier days, she liked to wander the museum and, as a result, had come to know its twists and turns pretty well. There were better places to relax during a break.

Level four was always dead around this time of day, mainly because it was the furthest from the public food areas. Rooms 90 and 90a were spaces often given over to limited exhibitions and she’d noticed on her last fly-by that it had been cleared.

Of course, she wasn’t going looking for Dr Knight, definitely not, but if he really was setting up a new exhibition and just happened to be there looking at the space, well, wouldn’t that be an awesome coincidence?

She stabbed the straw into her juice box and climbed the stairs. The slightly stuffy air of the museum seemed a little clearer up here. It was quieter, the echoing rumble of people muted by distance. She took in a long pull from the juice and realized just how dehydrated she was. God, it was good.

An echo of conversation fell down the stone steps from the floor above. Someone was up there. Eve tried to switch her ears to ‘spidey-senses’ and made the sound of her footsteps as quiet as possible.

You’re trying to creep up on him, aren’t you Eve? You’re so sad.

She grinned to herself. It was sad in a fun way. The door to room 90 was wide open and offered a clear view into the space from the stairway landing. Eve kept herself close to the wall and moved slowly.

Rupert Spence, the museum’s Head Curator, stood in the middle of the empty room with a man who Eve now recognized to be Dr Lucien Knight. She’d been surprised to find he was so young, given the experience he had in the field. He looked to be in his mid-thirties and was dressed in a sharp dark suit that didn’t look at all diminished for having had coffee chucked over it. He was over six-foot tall with raven-black hair and olive skin. Instinctively, Eve knew he’d look just as good out of that suit as he did in it.

His eyes snapped to hers despite her attempt to be invisible. Rupert followed his gaze.

“Ah, Eve, perfect timing,” Rupert said. He waved her over. “Dr Knight was just asking if we could spare anyone this afternoon. He has a meeting conflict and needs help with a collection from Christie's. Could the gift shop spare you for an hour or two, do you think?”

Dr Knight dipped his head and smiled at Eve. A dark lock of hair flopped to his forehead and Eve imagined brushing it away. He extended his hand. “Eve?”

“Dr Knight.”

A smile flickered in his eyes. “Please, call me Lucien.” He had a deep Latin accent that made Eve’s knees turn to jelly. Away from their disaster of an initial encounter, this man just oozed confidence. She leaned in to take his hand, and the scent of him washed over her. Goosebumps ran up the back of her neck, and Eve couldn’t help but imagine his fingertips entwined in her hair.

He took her hand, and as their skin touched, Eve felt a buzz of energy ride through her palm. There was something so strangely familiar about it, and yet the exact memory hovered just out of reach. She looked up into his eyes. Flashes of gold danced in their depths.

“So, Eve,” Rupert interrupted. “Would you have time to help Dr Knight? Could Gilbert spare you?”

“I’m sure it’s fine,” she managed, finally letting go of Lucien’s hand. “I’m just stocktaking today.”

“Excellent. I’ll pop down and square it with him in a moment.”

A smile tugged at the corner of Lucien’s mouth, and Eve’s eyes fell to his lips, full lips that suddenly she wanted to bite. “I’ll tell my driver to bring the car around,” he said.

Lucien pulled a phone from his pocket and turned to walk toward the window. Rupert Spence took Eve to one side. She looked at him wide-eyed.

“Dr Knight is something of a celebrity in Mesopotamian History, Eve. The exhibition he’s planning could be as big, if not bigger, than Tutankhamun. Please do everything you can to help him, hmm? Access to his collection will be an unprecedented coop for the museum.” Rupert trailed off, looking slightly misty-eyed.

“I, I know. I mean, of course I’ve heard of him. His findings formed part of my thesis.”

“Thesis? Really? Well, well.” He rubbed his palms together. “He has a particular interest in rare artefacts–the kind that deal with the darker side of archaeology–especially sacrificial rituals.”

Eve nodded, and Rupert continued waving his hands around the room. “He’s filling this entire space for us!” Rupert beamed with delight. She’d never seen him so giddy. “This is important, Eve. Make sure you do everything you can to make him happy. Understood?”

“I remember his books well from Uni.” She grinned at Rupert, matching his enthusiasm. “I’d be delighted to help. You can rely on me.”

What a weird day it was turning out to be. After the most inauspicious of starts, she was now being given a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to assist a famous archaeologist.

Rupert balled his hands together into an excited clench at his chest. “Then you’ll have plenty to talk about, excellent! This could lead to great things, major sponsorship, Eve. The man’s a billionaire, by all accounts. Many of the pieces are coming from his personal collection.”

A billionaire?

“Is that right?”

Eve turned to assess the man at the window. Rich, cultured and unbearably handsome. Some people had all the luck. Right now, that felt like her.

Seven

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