Page 5 of Curses & Keys
The smell of jasmine and vanilla drifts closer, and I turn to face the woman coming up behind me. Not wanting my father to know we’ve met, I introduce myself, hoping she’ll take the hint. “Jamison de Vere.”
A mischievous look enters her bright blue eyes, but after flicking a glance at the rest of the group, she holds out her hand. “Dr. Phaedra Galanis.” Her hand clasps mine, and she leans forward to place a kiss on each cheek. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Jamison.”
“Dr. Galanis,” my father stiffly interjects, a note of anger in his voice likely because she didn’t greet him the same way.
Stifling a laugh, I tuck her hand in my arm. “Dr. Galanis. You must be the other expert Dr. Samuels called in for this collection. Ancient languages and civilizations. Correct?”
She leans in closer. “Yes, that’s right. Although, I have to confess, my love for Ancient Greece knows no bounds.” Her eyes twinkle when she looks into mine, reminding me of the ease with which she identified my coin.
“Would you care for a drink?” I ask her huskily. Her dress wraps itself around my leg, responding to my magic, but I don’t dare call attention to it. With a subtle twirl of my finger, I unravel the fabric before anyone can see it.
My father’s hand comes down on my arm. “Aren’t you on duty?” He turns toward Phaedra, his eyes full of interest. “I’d be happy to get you a drink.”
Phaedra’s lips curl into a smile as she raises an elegant hand. A nearby waiter immediately comes over and hands her a glassof champagne, which she presents to us. “There are plenty of men to cater to my needs. Please. Enjoy yourselves. It was nice meeting all of you.” She slips away into the crowded room, disappearing in a blink.
My father grunts with displeasure, and I watch Catherine run a soothing hand down his arm. She really is perfect for him. I glance at her and almost take a step back. Her eyes are completely blank. No emotion, almost like she’s been spelled.
Disturbed, I turn to my father, but he’s already moving on to the next important person in the room. Taking advantage of his distraction, I head upstairs to view the crowd, and perhaps watch the beautiful enigma who calls herself Dr. Phaedra Galanis.
3
PHAEDRA
Eyes follow me around the room. Am I important or a plus one? Is it worth cultivating an introduction? A few knowofme and my expertise but most can only speculate. Well, except for Jamison, of course. The sharp awareness I feel between my shoulder blades is him. No matter where I go, his eyes follow. His interest in me is both a delight and a complication. Between us, there’s the heat of attraction, a large dose of curiosity, and a well-bred suspicion of anything unknown. Although part of me relishes the danger he represents.
Working on this project was a risk, but a necessary one. Too many pieces needed to be evaluated in person. When Letz called asking me to be one of the three experts, I jumped at the opportunity.
I pass several mages standing in front of the Dorian Gray painting whispering to each other, and my lips curve in a satisfied smile. That’s one object that won’t be used to capturesouls in the future. It still hums with power, but anyone who tries to use it will get a nasty little surprise. My lips curve into a particularly satisfied smile, happy with the solution I devised for that piece.
Technically, it’s myjobto protect humans by eliminating threats from cursed or magical objects, but sometimes I’m surprised by how much I enjoy it.
When supernatural races from other worlds first stepped through the portals into this one, the gods feared the corruption and downfall of humans. They fought viciously, eliminating many who dared cross over, but supernaturals continued to pour into the human realm, overwhelming in numbers, until the only option for peace was a treaty. So, the gods offered them sanctuary in exchange for secrecy.
In response, the supernaturals formed a council and promised the gods they wouldn’t reveal themselves to the humans, and for the most part, they do everything in their power to enforce those rules. If a member goes rogue, they deal with them harshly. If a powerful collection comes up for auction, they bid on the most dangerous pieces. Whatever it takes to maintain the peace, they do it, albeit sometimes reluctantly. After all, not all supernaturals feel they should have to hide from humans.
But the loophole of discovery remains. If humans are exposed to magic or supernaturals in a way that can’t be covered up, the council will not stop the evolution of their existence. The gods reluctantly agreed but created a backup plan of their own—me. The council isn’t aware I exist. Over the last three thousand years, I’ve hunted down the most dangerous objects while keeping an eye on them. From a distance, of course. A task that gets more difficult by the day.
Normally, I operate in an incognito manner, but with such an extensive and high-profile collection, I couldn’t sneak in and steal the pieces. I thought about waiting until they went to theirnew homes, but the sheer number of items made it impossible. Instead, I had to expose myself to get access to the collection.
The risky plan worked, and I was able to carefully remove the danger from several of the worst pieces. While the artifacts still exude power, their harmful intent has been altered. As for the rest, large crates filled with a mix of powerful and powerless artifacts, are on their way to various locations throughout the world, including my home in North Carolina.
My eyes flick to Jamison, who’s watching me stroll around the gallery. I’m sure the gods would tell me to brush off his interest and disappear, but after carefully following their orders for thousands of years, I’m feeling a little rebellious. Besides, a man like him is worth a little punishment. It’s not as if the gods will kill me.
I lean against the balustrade and deliberately meet his stare with one of my own. Heat rises, and I lick my lips in anticipation of our date. My eyes slide from his head to his toes. Most would only care about his power or the prestige of his name and rank. I don’t care about either. It’s the heat and determination in his eyes I find intriguing, and of course, the challenge I’ll face as he tries to extract my secrets. I smile in anticipation. It adds such a delicious edge to the attraction simmering between us.
Suddenly, his eyes widen, and he swivels around quickly. Hand to his ear, he hurries off, making me wonder where the fire is. I let my gaze drift lightly across the crowd. There are more than a few tense faces, but nothing out of the ordinary for this kind of crowd. I’m actually amazed they can be civil to each other for an entire evening.
I make my way down to the main hall for the dedication ceremony. Several security men sprint toward me. My heart speeds up for a second, wondering if I’m their target, but I remind myself I haven’t stolen anything this evening, and slide to the left to let them pass. Something is happening, though.
The second my foot touches the first floor, Letz grabs my arm and whirls me around to go back up the stairs. “Someone attacked security in storage room B3, where we put all of the smaller pieces. Unfortunately, they escaped. The room is secure, but they’re going to need our assistance to identify if anything is missing. Since you were in charge of inventory for that room, I’ll need you to come with me,” he tells me in a rush, whisking me down the hall to the other wing of the building where the room is located.
My mind immediately starts racing, trying to figure out what they could have possibly taken, especially since I removed anything of concern yesterday.
“Should I get the catalog?” I ask, playing the role I’ve assigned myself—that of an expert only interested in cataloging the collection and sharing key historical pieces with the world. Which I am, but I’m also here to ensure the most dangerous pieces are neutralized or removed from the collection. When he nods, I tell him I’ll meet him at the room and head toward the office I was assigned to use during my stay. I grab the latest version of the catalog and make my way to the scene.
When I get there, the room is in shambles, and Jamison is barking orders left and right to the security team. I look around for Letz and find him staring down at his feet, so I make my way over to him. It’s only when I get closer that I see the large bloody boot prints on the marble floor and quickly step to the side.
“Whose blood?” I ask Letz quietly.
