Page 10 of Curses & Keys
I set it aside to work on it when I return. Next, I pick up a hammered gold ring with a dome on the top. Popping open the latch, I tap my finger on the tip of the golden sundial hidden inside. This clever little beauty steals time. How much? I’m not sure. But even a minute is too much. I toss it on the pile.
The last piece is a pendant. Britain. circa 1540. There might have been a chain or a strand of pearls attached at some point, but it’s long gone. I turn the pendant from side to side. It’s a stunning piece. Two hammered gold squares linked together, one on top of the other. Each square has a jewel set into its center, one an aquamarine and the other a topaz. Below the squares hangs a third stone, a large teardrop sapphire. Aroundthe flat edges of each square is an inscription. I pull over the magnifying glass and read the words.Ubi Amor Ibi Dolor.Where there’s love, there’s pain. This is a woman’s pendant, typically worn close to the hollow of the neck. I can’t quite tell what the curse does yet, but its aura is dark, tinged with red. Nasty little piece. For now, it goes into the pile I’ve designated as urgent.
Exhausted from the long night, I glance at the monitors near the door and see nothing but empty fields and dirt roads. All by myself. The years weigh on me tonight. Maybe I’ll stay here for a few hours. I hang up the knapsack and secure the vault. Once upstairs, I lock the garage and head to the house.
My hand caresses the smooth railing as I walk up the wide front steps, peace settling over me with each step. Sometimes I wish I still lived here, but the world is too small for comfort. I used to pass the house down from myself to myself each generation, or from one alias of mine to the next, but it’s now owned by a corporation. Hidden behind multiple shell companies, of course. I own the parent company, but a subsidiary, P&P Inc., owns this house. While I visit often, it’s too dangerous to live here full time. If others tracked me here, they could find the cursed treasures I hide from the rest of the world.
Still, I can’t help but inhale deeply when I enter, filling my soul with the smells. In three thousand years, it’s the only place I’ve called home. Prior to this house, I lived in many places, all of them nice, but there are only two places I’ve considered home. The palace I grew up in and this one. And I’ve owned this one for the longest… over three hundred years.
Exhaling, I savor the peaceful feeling, knowing it’s temporary. Change is coming. Humans attacking supernaturals isn’t new, but I’ve never seen one physically win a fight with a vampire. Whoever they are… they’re well-funded, intelligent, and resourceful—a dangerous combination.
7
PHAEDRA
Refreshed after my stay on the farm, I head to the condo I’m leasing in Durham. Off West Main Street, the mid-rise building sits in the perfect downtown location, close enough to walk to campus if I wish. I ease my car into its reserved parking spot and take the elevator to the top.
Unlike the farmhouse, everything here is sleek and modern, with high-end finishes and all the latest appliances. There isn’t an ounce of warmth in the cold, sterile place except for the bank of windows in the corner that allows sunlight to flood the space. Airy and modern. Livable, but not home. It’s the perfect ruse for my life here.
I toss my keys into a wooden bowl on the entry table and hang up my purse. My stomach grumbles loudly. Walking over to the refrigerator, I open it and stare at the empty shelves. School starts tomorrow. I slam it shut and tap on my phone to order groceries.
While I wait for my order to arrive, I grab my laptop and pull up the cameras I hacked into the other day. The port is busy this morning. Shipments arriving and leaving all over the place. Once I find the camera for the warehouse, I bring it up and start rewinding the video footage. There. That’s me running across the roof. I note the time and switch to a second camera. The second camera shows the inside of the warehouse. I rewind the footage an additional twenty minutes and see myself moving away from my crate to the skylight.
Behind me, a shadow quickly scales the shelving in the warehouse until it reaches my crate. It’s too dark to get much detail, but the person’s bulk and height make me think it’s a male. Plus, there is something about the way he moves. Confident and sure-footed. Military training, maybe.
From a third camera, I see myself reaching the skylight and disappearing up to the roof.
I switch back to camera two and watch him probe around the crate. Instead of opening it, he waves a green light back and forth over the outside of the crate, then stares down at the device in his hand. That’s it.He puts the item in his hand away and walks around the crate.What’s he doing?
His head suddenly jerks up, and he takes off running across the top shelf, following the same path I’d used minutes earlier, until he reaches the skylight and disappears. I switch back to the first camera and catch him on the roof a minute later, peering over the side of the building. He must have heard the motorcycle. Moving to the front of the building, he waves his hands a few times in a series of practiced maneuvers, obviously communicating with someone on the ground. I watch as he leaves the roof but lose him in the shadows of the building.
I rewind the footage of him inside the warehouse to watch it several more times. He’s clearly running the green light over the crate. Not once does he open the crate. Is he scanning fora specific type of metal? The pieces inside are mainly made of gold and silver, not rare minerals, but maybe he’s searching for something unusual. Some of the supernaturals brought materials from home when they came through the portal. Compounds not known to this world.
Groceries arrive, and I spend several minutes putting those away, then fix an easy butter, parmesan, and veggie pasta for dinner. I take it out to the patio, along with a glass of wine, and watch as the sun turns the sky into shades of pink and gold. Tonight is the last time it will set after eight p.m. this year. I watch every second. Soon, my favorite season will be gone.
Once it’s dark, I pick up my phone and glance at the tracker app. My crate is on a truck bound for Durham and scheduled for delivery tomorrow.
Designedin a collection of Revival styles, the Allen Building’s majestic façade reflects the Classical Studies program it offers inside its hallowed halls. Built in the thirties, Duke University’s West Campus, including this building, was designed to represent a romanticist interpretation of the historic medieval universities in England. It was meant to be a symbol of Duke’s status and credibility to the rest of the world, and almost a hundred years later, it stands firm with all the hallmarks of prestige.
Unwilling to walk in the sweltering heat this morning, I swing the car into my assigned parking spot a few minutes early. The staff meeting starts promptly at nine a.m. Usually, I wouldn’t be expected to join, but the department chair asked me to give a brief update on the pieces coming from the collection.I glance at my watch. I need to tell security the crate is arriving today before the meeting. They don’t like surprises. My heels click rapidly on the tiles as I rush to their office at the other end of the building. Hurrying around the corner and through the door, I slam into someone who’s standing a few feet inside. Thankfully, their strong grip catches me before I fall.
Horrified, I glance up and find the most captivating sea-green eyes staring down at me. “Sorry. I’m in a rush and didn’t look. Are you okay?”
A half-smile graces his lips as he flicks his eyes down. “No harm done.”
My eyes linger on his masculine features in appreciation, then widen when they get to the pointed ears. Elven. Humans can’t see them, but I do. Undoubtedly why he is so beautiful with his strong nose, firm lips, and high cheekbones. Symmetrically perfect.
What is he doing here? My phone pings, and I jerk out of his hold.
“Damn, I’m going to be late,” I lament, shaking my head. “Tony.” I pop my head around the man standing in front of me to focus on the burly guy seated behind the counter. “I’ve got a crate coming this afternoon. Could you please call me when it arrives?”
Tony writes it down on the pad beside him, nodding in agreement. “Sure thing, Dr. Galanis.”
I glance up at the elf and wish I had more time. “Again, I’m sorry.” Stepping away from him, I turn toward the door. From the corner of my eye, I spot a messenger bag on a chair. Does he work here? I swivel to get one last look at him and nearly clip my nose on the doorframe.Idiot.He’s going to think I’m a complete klutz.
Minutes later, I walk into the conference room. Of course, I’m the last person to walk in and take a seat. All eyes turntoward me when I enter, and I hear a long-suffering sigh from the department head.
“Sorry I’m late.” My apology is out of respect, but it’s all she’ll get from me. As a visiting professor, my only job is to provide the university with artifacts from my travels. I’m not here to teach classes or interfere in the day-to-day operations.
