Marcie looked at her open file folder. "I don't have a record of any Cumberland pieces."
"You lost our rings? What kind of rinky-dink museum are you!"
"We are one of the oldest art museums in the United States," she said hotly. "Don't move." Never taking her eyes off me, she backed up to a landline phone. It looked like it had been down here since they put the carpet squares in.
"Me moving will not be an issue. I'm not leaving until I have the rings in my possession," I said, haughty. Damn it, Ivy, where are you? "I can't believe you misplaced them."
"Who did you say you were?" she asked, and we both looked up as the door beeped.
Ivy, I thought in relief, then choked when Nick walked in, cool and calm in a pinstripe gray suit and a blue tie. I almost didn't recognize him with his hair slicked back and his shiny shoes. Because of him, Ceri and Pierce are dead. It was all I could do not to crawl over the tables between us. I clenched my teeth when our eyes met and he smiled.
The woman set the receiver back in the cradle. "And who are you?" she asked, pushing her glasses farther up her nose.
He beamed, reaching behind his coat for his wallet. "Nick Sparagmos. FIB," he said, and I couldn't help my bark of laughter. "Thank God you found her," he added, grimacing at me and flipping his wallet open to show an ID. He closed it before Marcie could do more than lean to look, stuffing it away where he'd gotten it from. "Hands in fists on the top of your head," he said to me. "Don't make this hard on yourself."
Why, are we surrounded? I thought sourly, but he was between me and the door. Ku'Sox might drop into him, and then I'd be banned from the museum for blowing it up or setting it on fire, or . . . something. I slid away from the table I was leaning against. "You touch me, and you die, Nick." Damn it, how was I going to get the rings now? Not only were they gone, but if I took my second choice, he'd know and tell Ku'Sox.
The woman looked from me to Nick. "Someone better tell me what's going on," she threatened, and I leaned back, gesturing for Nick to say something, dying to find out, myself.
"This is Le'Arch, the notorious art thief from the United Kingdom," Nick said, pointing at me as he came in. "Have you searched her yet?"
"Oh. My. God," I said, not sure I'd heard him right. "Nick, please tell me you did not just make an anagram of my name. Please. Just please."
His jaw clenched, and he took another step forward. He was almost far enough from the door that I had a good chance of making it through, but without the rings-which were not even here anymore-I was dead anyway. "She has a history of claiming to be agents of big corporations and walking away with priceless artifacts," he said, and the woman's hand came away from the phone.
How long had he been listening at the door, and where in hell were Jenks and Ivy?
Well, Nick wasn't the only one who could tell pretty stories. "Marcie, this jerk is my old boyfriend. He doesn't work for the FIB, and he's been stalking me all week. The man is a thief."
Nick stiffened. "I'm a thief?" he said, looking odd in his new clothes as he advanced another step. "I'm not the one stealing ancient elven artifacts to break the ley lines. You are a menace, and I'm trying to stop you."
"How dare you blame me for that!" I shouted. "I'm trying to stop him!" His jaw clenched, and I turned to Marcie. The woman hadn't picked up the phone, but she was ready to. "Marcie, I'm sorry," I said, still trying to turn this into a stalker boyfriend issue. "I'm going to file a restraining order as soon as I get out of here. He doesn't work for the FIB, and he's lying to you to get me in trouble with my boss. If I don't get those rings out of here, I'm a dead woman." True enough.
Nick made an exasperated sound when Marcie looked at him with doubt, starting to believe me. "Neither of you move."
"Has she taken any pieces yet?" Nick said, but it sounded desperate. "What rings did she ask after?"
Marci's eyes narrowed, her belief swinging back to him. "Riffletic's."
Nick leaned to see the ring case. "There's a pair missing."
"There is not!" I said, affronted, but Marcie had already pulled away from her corner, rushing to look. "No!" I exclaimed when she lowered her head to see and Nick grabbed a heavy vase. It hit the back of her head without breaking, and the woman hung for a heartbeat, eyes wide as she slowly collapsed.
"You son of a bitch!" I said, lunging forward to catch her, my bare feet burning on the carpet squares as I struggled with her weight. "What in hell are you doing? Now it's assault!"
The door beeped, and Nick barely got out of the way as Ivy yanked it open. "I say we return the favor and get the hell out of here," she said as Jenks flew in, sword bared and his dust a dismal blue. Something bad had happened. Where is Jax?
I carefully lowered Marcie to the floor, rising up mad enough to plow my fist right between his smiling teeth as Nick backed out of Ivy's easy reach. He was still Ku'Sox's toy. I could tell. "What are you doing down here?" Nick said idly, his head tilted so he could eye a row of artifacts and me at the same time.
Jenks landed on Ivy's shoulder, clearly distressed. "Can we just get out of here?"
But I didn't have the rings yet, and at a loss, I shook my head.
Nick's smile widened. "Don't have what you came for?" he mocked, running a finger on a glass case to leave an obvious mark.
"You got Pierce and Ceri killed," I accused. "How dare you smile at me."
His smile vanished, but I couldn't tell if his sudden contriteness was real or contrived. "I'm sorry about that. I didn't know he was going to kill them."
"He's a psychotic demon!" I shouted, then lowered my voice when Jenks's wings hummed a warning and he darted into the hall. "He doesn't need a reason to kill people, just a reason not to. You are one dumb warlock," I said with a sneer. "Ku'Sox is going to kill you, too."
Nick chuckled, tugging his sleeves down to cover his cuffs. On Trent, it looked good; on him, it looked nervous. "Ku'Sox needs me." Hands on his knees, he leaned over the case of rings. "Mmm. Riffletic rings? I understand they were pulled. Weren't they the elven wedding bands? Seriously?" He straightened. "Better than chastity, I suppose."
Ivy had inched closer, and seeing it, Nick shook his head, stopping her. He still belonged to Ku'Sox, and I didn't want the demon showing up. If we were going to take Nick out, it would have to be fast. But I didn't know if that really mattered anymore. My plan was royally flushed. Ku'Sox wasn't stupid. Three seconds after Nick told him what we were after, he would have it figured out. Maybe I could make that work for me.
"Ku'Sox doesn't need you," I said caustically, and Nick looked up from the display as if I was being stupid. "Or maybe I should say he won't. Thanks to Trent, those Rosewood babies don't need your lame enzymes. The only reason he hasn't eaten you yet is because you're spying on me."
Nick smiled as if giving a benediction. "As I said, he needs me."
"Yeah? For how long?" I said. Clearly distressed, Jenks hovered just outside in the hall at the ceiling. He tapped his wrist like a watch. Ivy wasn't close enough, though. "Maybe you haven't noticed, but I've got an expiration date," I added. "You're going to be deadweight after tomorrow, whatever happens."
Nick frowned, his fingers twitching.
"Didn't think about that, did you, crap for brains?"
His head came up. "You know nothing." He looked at Ivy. "Stop moving, vampire."
Ivy rocked back. "Cut it short or bring him," she said. "We have to go."
"Bring him?" I barked, my chin lifting. Then I said to Nick, "There is no hole deep enough or dark enough to hide you when Ku'Sox decides he's done with you and pulls your plug."
Arms swinging, I headed for the door, figuring he'd get close enough to smack him if he thought I was leaving.
Sure enough, he reached for me, and I let him grab my arm. "We used to be good," he said, eyes angry.
"Yeah? Well, I used to be stupid!"
Grabbing his wrist, I spun to put my back to his front, and levered him right over my shoulder. He hit the floor in front of me with a groan, and Ivy was there, her long arm against his neck even though he was out. Jenks flew in at the noise, hovering over us.
"When do you want him to wake up?" she said, and my lip curled.
Jenks's dust was still that depressed blue. "How about never?" he suggested. There was a long tear in his new clothes. Jax?
"Ten minutes," I said in disgust, and she let go, shoving him across the narrow walkway to slide into a lower cupboard.
"I like Jenks's idea better," she said as she got up.
"Yeah! What's up, Rache?" Jenks snarled. "You know he doesn't deserve it."
I nodded as I turned back to the rings. "We all have a part to play," I said as I looked over the selection. Time was pressing on me, making me jittery. It couldn't be because Nick was helpless on the floor and I was walking away.
Ivy smelled of darkness and earth as she eased up beside me. "Anything you take he'll know and tell Ku'Sox."
"The ones I really wanted are gone, anyway," I said, wishing I had my cheat sheet, then remembering Marcie had one. "Jenks, check Marcie's sketch there. Who donated the demon slave rings?" Slave rings. This was a mistake. This was a mistake in a big way, but I had to take a huge leap if I was going to survive.
He whistled, his dust a shade brighter as he darted to the woman and leafed through her papers. "Ahh, Cabenoch." He flew up, his dust settling on the velvet background to look like stars on a moonless light. "Cabenoch. That's German, isn't it?"
"It's elvish," I said, finding the rings I wanted. Something in me quivered seeing them there, plain circles of battered metal. They were both tarnished, but one looked as if it had been on a hand that had never seen dirt, and the other had never seen the sun. Slavers. That would work, though it curled my lip thinking about reinvoking them.
"Okay. It's rigged, right?" I said, and Ivy carefully slid the entire box almost entirely off the table. Jenks darted under it, and from the door, Marcie groaned. We had maybe thirty seconds. I didn't want to hit her again. "Jenks?" I prompted, and a wash of depressed blue bathed our feet.
"Standard stuff," he said, not coming out. "I dusted you about ten seconds of electronic memory, so make it fast. Ready?"
I nodded, eyeing the rings I wanted and pulling the fake ones off my finger.
"I still don't see how this is going to help," Ivy griped. "He's going to know the ones you took."
"Just hold it still," I muttered. "Ready, Jenks?"
"On my mark . . . go!" he said, and I opened the lid, feeling a pull of a magnetic field. Breath held, I grabbed the rings, slipping them both on my index finger as I dropped the fake rings in their place. Ivy's eyes widened when I then moved the "donated by" card, then another.
"How long, Jenks?" I said. "Give me a count!"
"Four, three," he said, me moving cards like a con artist on the corner. "Two," he said, and I pulled my hands out, shutting the lid. "One!"
My eyes met Ivy's, and she exhaled. Muscles easily managing the weight, she slid it back onto the table. Jenks flew up, and all three of us looked at the lumps of metal sitting in my hand. They felt as dead as they looked, but something in me quivered. I could bring them back to life. I could make this anew. Demon slavers. I shuddered.
"Can we go now?" Jenks said, his dust still that dismal blue, and I nodded, not looking back at Nick as I walked out the door.
Next time I had the chance, he wouldn't be so lucky.