Chapter 13

By the gods, I had kissed Ziola. I shoved my hair out of my face and dropped into a chair at the large oak table in the center of the guildhall's main room. Letting my head fall back, I stared blankly at the ceiling and wondered if I was losing my mind. I hadn't been with a woman in a while, but that was no excuse.

Evidently, I had been working too hard and needed to take some time for myself. There were plenty of willing partners out there if I wanted a quick cuddle, and blonde hair with a set of pillowy breasts was just what the doctor ordered. I shifted the tightness in my trousers and hoped that would cure me of wayward thoughts about a slender, red-haired vixen.

With that plan firmly in mind, I stood and walked to the liquor cabinet in the corner. I needed a drink. I seemed to need that a lot around Ziola. Poking at the contents, I cursed the guild's lack of ale kegs and the senior masters' preference for wine and hard liquor. In my current state, whiskey did not seem like a wise choice. With a grimace, I poured some wine and sat back down to wait for Ziola.

She eventually emerged from the basement, glossy hair now pulled back in a high ponytail and green eyes looking anywhere but at me. Her tight leggings and snug tunic hugged her trim figure, and I dragged my gaze up to her face. I understood why she preferred such form-fitting clothing, but at that moment I heartily wished she were clad in the long skirts and high necklines most humans favored.

When she sat at the table, head lowered, I cleared my throat and said, "I'm very sorry. It won't happen again."

Her eyes snapped up to mine. "I'm the one who started it."

"But I'm supposed to be teaching you. I don't think anyone—you, me, Lorget—had that in mind as one of the lessons."

She shivered and looked back down at the table. "No, certainly not."

"I think we should just forget it ever happened." Not likely, but I could at least pretend.

She nodded as if her head was on a spring. "Good idea."

I couldn't think of anything else to say and decided to just press on. Rubbing the back of my neck, I grimaced and said, "What did you learn from watching Thorn Wylder?"

"Everything was quiet until last night." She walked to the cabinet and poured herself some wine. "In the early morning, five men arrived at the offices. One dressed in a tunic and leggings, maybe high fae, the others in leather armor."

She waved the wine bottle at me and raised her eyebrows, but I shook my head. Returning to the table, she continued, "Two of the guards stayed outside while the others went in. After a few minutes, they returned carrying a box."

"How big?"

"About the size of a hatbox. Do we know how big the Eye is supposed to be?"

"No. I'd think something that powerful wouldn't be tiny like a marble, though."

"Melvin the Magnificent's blue ball was the right size for a hatbox," she said with a grin. To my delight, the dimple made an appearance.

I grinned back. "Good to know that Melvin had big balls."

She laughed before returning to her account. "The five of them walked down Third and turned the corner onto High Street. I followed as far as I could, but they got into a carriage, and I couldn't keep up. With daytime traffic, I probably could have, but not in empty streets at night."

"Were you spotted?"

"Of course not." Her lips pressed into a thin line and her brows lowered.

I shrugged. "I'm not criticizing. It's hard to slip silently through the shadows when moving fast, and it's not like you could have blended into a crowd."

She wrinkled her nose and blew out a harsh breath. "I wasn't on the street. I was on the rooftops."

I blinked at her, momentarily speechless. "You can keep up with a horse while running on the roofs?"

"Not for long. When they got to a street too wide for me to jump, I had to drop to street level to get across. That's when I lost them."

Even I had to admit that was an impressive skill. "Is that how you got into the Quinlins? From the roof?"

"And the Enforcers' jail. People don't think they need wards on the roof."

"I guess not. That's pretty useful." I actually thought it was damn amazing, especially for a human, but wasn't going to say so. "What direction were they headed when you lost them?"

"Maybe toward City Center. It was hard to tell."

At that moment, the heavy front door creaked open, and Jareth swaggered in with Polix in tow. Jareth's curly brown hair spilled carelessly around a face I knew many of the female guild members found attractive. A muscle in my jaw ticked as I watched his gaze roam over Ziola appreciatively. He nodded to me in greeting, but immediately returned his attention to her.

"Good afternoon, Ziola." Jareth leaned against the table with a casual grace. His charcoal gray tunic and black pants fit his athletic frame too well to have been anything other than custom tailored, and I felt my lip curl. He gave Ziola a boyish grin that I bet he practiced in front of a mirror. "You look especially radiant today." If his tone got any oilier, we could fry eggs in it.

Ziola responded with a polite smile, her expression cool and composed. "Hello, Jareth. Polix."

"We're here to pick up new assignments, then we're meeting Gordon and a few others for a night on the town. Want to join us?" Jareth asked.

I noticed his question was directed at Ziola. I wanted to say something rude, but Ziola wouldn't thank me for it, and she was more than capable of handling Jareth herself. Besides, she'd been happy to accept Keillan's invitation. For all I knew, she let all manner of men buy her drinks. Just one of the perks of being a pretty girl, I supposed. There were always lust-filled males around to foot the bill.

"Thanks, but I'm busy this evening."

Was she meeting Keillan tonight? I kept a pleasant smile on my face, even as a burning sensation speared through my stomach.

Polix suddenly spoke up. "Were you successful at the Quinlins?"

By all the gods, were there no secrets in the guild anymore? I had thought Ziola randomly stumbled across that assignment on Lorget's desk, but apparently it was common knowledge.

"Why do you ask?" I asked in return.

Polix blushed and looked at his boots. "Gordon and I had a bet on whether you could do it."

My brows shot up. "Do you all sit around here gossiping like a bunch of magpies?"

Ziola smothered a laugh and Polix's face turned even redder. "Well, no. We'd just heard that it was going down and wondered."

I studiously did not look at Ziola as I said, "Yes, I was successful."

Polix's expression fell.

"I take it you bet against me," I said dryly.

He nodded glumly.

"Then you'd better go pay up. If you'll excuse us, gentlemen, we have some work to finish before this evening."

Jareth's eyes narrowed, and he swiveled his head toward Ziola. "You're working with Remy?"

She shrugged. "The seniors gave us an assignment."

He looked at me, frowning. "I thought you only worked alone."

I rocked my chair back on two legs and held his gaze, expressionless. "Why? Is there a problem?"

"No. Just surprised is all." He pushed away from the table. "Guess you found an easier way to get in her pants."

The blood roared in my ears. My chair crashed to the floor, and I was on my feet in a heartbeat. Before I knew it, my hand was fisted in the front of his tunic, and my teeth were bared in his face. So much for letting Ziola handle him herself. I was going to wipe that arrogant smirk off his face permanently. His eyes darted back and forth as he flailed at my chest, trying to push me away.

I felt a hand on my back and snapped my head around, snarling. If Polix had found the courage to join in, I would skin both of them. One alone I would fight with fists, but two called for a blade.

But Polix was rooted to the spot, hands up, eyes and mouth wide. It was Ziola's feather-light touch, gingerly patting me. "Remy," she said, her tone mild and even as if soothing a wild animal. "Let him go. He's not worth it."

Finger by finger, I released Jareth's tunic, and he skipped back.

"By the gods, man, it was just a joke," he said. He tugged his rumpled shirt back into place and pushed the curls off his now sweaty forehead.

I kept my gaze hard on him but said nothing.

Jareth spun and stalked to the door. "C'mon, Polix, we're leaving."

I watched Polix scurry after him and when the front door banged shut, I picked up my chair and sat. The tension seeped from my muscles as I took a deep breath and shook my hands out. Picking up my cup, I drained the remains of my wine in one gulp.

After a moment of silence, I turned to Ziola and calmly asked, "Where were we?"

She blinked several times and swallowed before saying, "The hatbox heading toward City Center."

"That's right. Did you have anything else?"

"No. What about you?"

"Drex shared the Crimson Wave's manifests, but they weren't helpful," I said. "But I did learn that there will be a secret auction for a powerful item in two weeks. Powerful enough that people are willing to kill for it."

"Where will the auction be held?"

"That I don't know. But there are only a few places with the security and prestige to host an invitation-only event for something like this."

"Any near City Center?"

I drummed my fingers on the table, thinking about which auction houses were located in that direction. "Scepter Seraphim is. So is Infinity Artifacts."

She sighed heavily. "More boring surveillance?"

I smiled. "Welcome to the life of a master thief. Were you expecting excitement every minute of every day?"

"Kind of."

"Before we suffer through that, let's see what the library has on them."

"There's a library here?" she asked.

"It's really just a room in the attic with files on various places and people of interest, but we call it that. Didn't Lorget show it to you?"

"No, he just gave me the information I needed before each job." She stood, picked up both of our empty cups, and put them next to the liquor cabinet for a servant to clean. She turned and leaned back against the cabinet. "Thank you for defending me, but nothing Jareth says matters."

I studied the defiant facade that contrasted so sharply with her delicate face and slender form. "Maybe not, but he needs to keep his trap shut." I wasn't proud that I'd made a similar comment to her not that long ago. Ears burning, I headed to the staircase.

As we climbed to the top floor, Ziola asked, "Have you ever broken into Scepter Seraphim or Infinity Artifacts?"

"No. I've never tried. A few tried in the past but were unsuccessful."

"Maybe we should ask them for information."

"That would be hard. They're all dead."

"Dead from old age?"

"Dead from trying to break in."

"Oh." She stopped asking questions. She probably didn't want to know more, and I didn't really want to, either.

Dust motes danced in a narrow beam of late afternoon light that sliced across the rough-hewn floor from the single dormer window. I plucked an oil lamp from its hook on the wall and lit it, casting wavering shadows on the tall, narrow shelves that brimmed with meticulously organized files and scrolls. An assortment of quills and inkwells lay scattered across a large wooden desk in the middle of the room.

I gestured to one set of shelves and said, "Files on people are over there." I pointed to the back wall. "Summaries of important operations, there." I walked to the shelves next to the window. "Places are here. You look for Scepter Seraphim and I'll look for Infinity Artifacts."

I started digging through the files, but Ziola bit her lip and peered at the top shelves. "Are they organized in some way?"

"Yes. I just don't know what it is."

She sighed. "I've got a better idea. I'll look on the bottom half and you look on the top."

I paused with a scroll in my hand and glanced down at her.

Thrusting her fists on her hips, she glared at me. "Unless you want me to drag the desk chair over here so I can climb on it to reach the top shelves and run you over with it when I want to move."

I held up my hands in surrender. "No. I value my toes. We'll do it your way."

After a quarter hour of searching, we found thin files on both auction houses. Ziola sat on the floor and held one up. "Not much information in these."

I sank onto the floor next to her with the other. "Probably because no one's seen anything but the main showrooms and lived to tell the tale."

"You'd think an employee could be bribed," she said.

"According to this, Infinity Artifacts is family owned. From what I've seen, families are either fiercely loyal or stabbing each other. Doesn't seem to be much middle ground."

She shrugged. "I wouldn't know. I barely remember my family. My parents sold me to the circus when I was five so they could feed the rest of the brood. Girls are less useful on a farm. Or maybe I was the least lovable." She dropped her hands into her lap and stared blankly at the file. "I can't remember if they cried. I know I did."

I wondered if I should squeeze her hand or pull her into a hug. I knew fuck all about comforting someone and feared the contact would be unwelcome, especially after the debacle in the basement. Instead, I said, "Never knew my father and then my mother died. I was living on the streets when I was five or so." I rubbed my chin. "I'm not exactly sure how old I am."

Her large eyes flew to mine, and she pressed her fingers to her lips. "That's awful. Why not an orphanage?"

I gave a rueful laugh. "Guess you've never seen the orphanages in Sageport. If you had, you'd know why the streets were preferable."

"How did you survive?"

"When I got tired of picking through trash, I started stealing. You'd be amazed how resourceful children can be." I turned back to the file in my hands and snapped it shut. "I don't think Infinity Artifacts has the clout to pull this off. What does it say about Scepter Seraphim?"

She flipped through the scant contents of her file. "Not much. Owned by a consortium, probably of high fae. Very sophisticated security, magical and mundane… hobgoblin guards… hmmm… Oh," — she gasped — "they have gargoyles protecting the perimeter."

"Really?" I peered over as she held up the parchment. "Don't see many of those."

"Do you know anything about them?"

"Only that they are near impossible to kill." I stood, then reached down and grasped her hand, pulling her to her feet. "But I know who we can ask."