5. Jax

Chapter 5

Jax

J ax studied the large spear through the glass display, the end glinting with crushed glass. He didn't know the history behind it, or particularly care. The entire exhibit was supposedly a celebration of celestrial history. But all Jax saw were glittery trinkets that meant nothing, and a few Fallen's wings pinned like insects on display.

The exhibit didn't celebrate anything celestrial. It was morbid curiosity for a rare Breed, at best.

Yet, there were crowds eagerly gazing at the crap collected, including one of the documents he'd specifically came for. Gasps of delight echoed around the particular piece of paper. It was written in Celestrian, one of the languages you couldn't simply learn, the words shifting with every blink. No, you had to be born with the ability.

The document was protected in a temperature controlled glass cabinet, the light above dimmed to not damage the already worn parchment. Jax blinked, the words moving across the page. He had to concentrate – focus – which was hard to do with a group of people crowding around .

A chalice was roughly drawn in the centre, the surrounding words overlapping. He'd already seen photographs of it online, but they couldn't capture the true words. Only the letters in that exact second. Celestrian was written in layers, so one page could hold an entire chapter. It was nothing other than a vague description of the chalice, with much of it unclear in context. Information was missing, or at least still hidden within the layers.

Jax froze at a particular paragraph, having to narrow his eyes to reread. The chalice, renamed by a human in the 19 th century as the ‘Calicem Animarum,' was an artefact of power stolen from Aetherna, the realm of the celestrials. To be activated, it required not one, but three separate offerings.

Except there was no information regarding the offerings.

Stepping back from the display, he crossed his arms. He knew there was nothing more he could learn with that particular piece, not without the others unlocking the rest of the text. If Gideon already had the chalice, it was likely he would be after the instructions.

Fuck's sake.

"You don't say much, do you?" Harper stood off to the side, eyeing him warily.

She'd pinned her hair back in a neat bun, her dress black, sleek, and fitting for the newest patron to the British Museum. Jax was sure they were even naming an entire floor after her.

"I speak when necessary," he replied, knowing she wasn't yet comfortable around him. She'd made his brother wait until she was ready, which meant they'd only been officially mated for a few weeks. Sythe had already complained that Jax had a resting grump face, and that he needed to ‘lighten up. '

Harper pursed her lips, careful to not stare directly at his scar. She was way too polite to be mated to Sythe. He didn't understand what she saw in the shithead.

"You mentioned there were two other documents that went with this one?" he asked.

Harper had been the one to study the piece in person, although she was unable to read it. It had been her job to find the chalice, and she had. Even if it was for a man who'd use it to burn the city to the ground.

"I've organised a viewing with one of the curators. We're just waiting for him."

Jax nodded, returning his attention to the surrounding crowds. His gaze swept across the room, his beast rumbling when it settled on one particular person.

With a frown, he tracked the hooded figure.

GO, Beast snarled inside his mind, impatient. FOLLOW.

Jax found himself taking a step, a warmth spreading through his veins that seemed to appease his beast. He wasn't sure why, but the urge to move was almost forcing his muscles forward.

"Harper, how nice to see you again." A man with dirty blond hair approached, his smile genuine as he reached out to grip Harper's hand in an overly friendly touch.

Jax stopped, causing a snarl to echo inside his mind. NO. FOLLOW.

Can't, he replied. We need to stay.

Harper pulled her hand back. "Mr Jackson – "

"Oh, you know how I like to be called Carter," the man chuckled. "Surely by now we should naturally be on a first name basis?"

Beast sulked, and Jax simply pushed him to the back of his mind.

Harper's smile tensed. "Are the documents ready? "

Carter's hand slipped to the small of her back, and she stiffened.

Jax released a deep hum, and Carter turned with a frown. His eyes widened, dipping to study Jax all the way from his heavy boots to his black T-shirt and tattoos.

"I'm sorry; I wasn't told you'd have company." He held out his spare hand, the once friendly smile now forced. He wasn't as polite as Harper, brow furrowing when he noticed Jax's scar. "I'm Carter Jackson, one of the curators here at the museum."

Jax didn't acknowledge the outstretched hand, and wasn't even going to dignify the pompous arsehole with a response. But that was before he'd made Harper uncomfortable.

"I'm Jax. The guy who'll break your wrist if you touch my brother's mate without her permission again."

Carter jumped back as if he'd been electrocuted. "I didn't mean…" He swept out an arm, careful not to touch Harper as she walked ahead. "Through here, I have prepared a private viewing."

Harper nodded, eyes not so guarded when they met Jax's for the briefest second. "I really appreciate this, Carter," she said, returning her attention to him. "I know it was difficult to manage at such short notice."

"Anything for you," Carter said before clearing his throat. "So, one of the document's currently being restored at a separate institute, and cannot be recalled for viewings. But I've managed to get the other flown over."

"Only one?" Jax asked, Carter seeming to recoil at his voice. It was important that he figured out quickly what the chalice actually did before Gideon.

He was already at a disadvantage.

"It was all I could manage with such little warning," Carter replied, eyes narrowing as he pulled out a key card. Pressing it toward the reader, they waited, the door popping open with a gentle hiss. Carter gestured them inside, Jax having to duck or risk hitting his head on the door jamb.

"You're lucky I was even able to get this piece. There were a few complaints about official ownership, and even a bidding war that was unsuccessful."

Shelves framed the small room, each one filled with books that were wrapped in plastic and tagged. A single table was placed in the centre, and on top sat a box.

"All the documents are truly fascinating," Carter continued, opening a drawer to pick up velvet gloves. "It's a shame only a celestrial-born can read and translate. We've still not managed to convince someone to work with us to decipher the meaning behind them."

"Actually, that's why we're here," Harper said, moving to stand at the opposite side of the table. Jax followed, waiting for Carter to stop fucking around with his gloves.

Carter openly gaped. "You? But you don't look like a celestrial."

Jax made sure his expression remained cold. "I left my wings at home."

"Well, obviously you must be one of the Fallen." Carter wrinkled his nose, as if disgusted at the idea.

Jax didn't reply. He wasn't a Fallen, a celestrial who lost their wings as punishment. He wasn't a celestrial, either. Druids were the one Breed who only birthed males, which made him a druid. Just with a few unique abilities inherited from his mother.

His lack of wings had been a disappointment she'd never let him forget.

Carter paused with his hands on the lid of the box, smiling at Harper as he waited for her to meet his gaze.

WE EAT HIM? Beast asked, and Jax couldn't help the amusement that followed .

Later.

"This piece is in much better condition, you can really see the…" Carter lifted the lid, pausing with a gasp.

Harper stepped forward. "Is everything okay?"

Carter quickly replaced the lid, a blush darkening his cheeks. "I apologise, but we're going to have to reschedule."

"Reschedule? Carter, it's taken weeks for us to organise this," Harper said. "It's important. We just need – "

"No, I'm sorry, but it seems the document's been… misplaced."

"What do you mean it's been misplaced?" Jax needed access to the original. Otherwise, he couldn't decipher the layers. "How the fuck could you have lost it?"

The colour spread down Carter's neck, and before he could give them an excuse, Jax reached across and lifted the lid.

Fuck.

It was empty. Which either meant Gideon had beaten him to it, or there was someone else looking for the pages.