Gigi looked at Nico expectantly, then down at his phone and back up at him, smiling in encouragement.
“You’re not going to try and talk me out of it?” He groused. Still not reaching for his phone.
“I think you’ve resided here long enough to know by now that if Darcy had any news, you’d wake up at three in the morning to find her looming over you, sharpening a chopstick, whilst she smiled one of her chilling smiles, before proceeding to drop a crap ton of new problems in your lap before sauntering out with a jaunty little jig in her step.”
“That actually did happen once. But she was holding an ice hockey puck and sharpening the edges. There was no getting back to sleep after she left.”
“No. Most people spend the rest of the night trying to work out how she got in to begin with, despite all the doors and windows appearing to be locked.” Gigi blew out a deep breath. She was beginning to feel better, definitely more relaxed. The wine was helping and so, surprisingly, was Nico, fetching her wine, and being all personable and chatty suddenly. “So…” She surveyed the stacks of books, pamphlets and scrolls. “What’s all this in aid of?”
“Research. Athena’s Owls. Any legends or myths that mention deities in conjunction with doves and swans. And I’m trying to compile a list of men who had glorious gory battle centric careers in ancient times and then abruptly disappeared with no explanation. Nothing concrete or useful yet, I’m afraid. Are you hungry?”
“Goddess, yes. I missed lunch.”
“Me too. Good. Let me clear this stuff away and I’ll set the table.”
“You made dinner?” People always seemed to expect Gigi to cook, but here Nico was, first breakfast, now dinner.
“It’s just a steak salad, with some chimichurri sauce. Nothing fancy.”
It looked fantastic, as he set a plate in front of her. And tasted even better. Coriander, parsley, garlic and just a hint of cinnamon teased her palate. No wonder he was horning in on all her recent catering gigs.
She noted the expectant look Nico sent her way as he dug into his own meal. “It’s good. Really good.”
“Thank you. But I was actually wondering if now would be a good time to talk about our magic? What you said about knowing each other’s strengths and if we can identify any weaknesses struck me as a good idea.”
“Let’s start with you then. You’re a treasure hunter? What does that mean exactly?”
“Hunting instincts honed over five generations. We’re taught to listen to our gut from the cradle. Studying the seas and the weather. For me in particular, silver items call to me. Similar to a ping on a radar scope. Our blood is hyper-oxygenated, meaning I can hold my breath for extended periods of time. And changes in pressure don’t tend to affect me. Physically I’m strong. Plus, I’ve trained with swords and blades since I was an infant. And currently I’m cursed by an ancient ring that seems to want to remake me into its golden haired bitch.” He poured them both some more wine. “Okay, your turn.”
“Sure. Though mine’s a little harder to explain.”
“Don’t dumb it down for me, I’ll be fine.”
“Okay then. I’m an Elemental Balance Mage.” Gigi flashed him a smile, stopping there. Liking the way his light toffee eyes turned a darker amber in sudden frustration. There was just something about winding this man up that was proving too amusing by half.
“Okay. I think I’m going to need the pleb version after all.”
“Everything natural and unnatural is made up of matter. Composed at a fundamental level of elements in in unique amounts that come together in gas, liquid or physical form to create something.”
“You know what everything and everyone is made up of?”
“Essentially, yes. When my magic first made itself known in fits and starts in my early teens it was a little daunting, a lot overwhelming and above all else, incredibly confusing. Baking became my way of taking control. And I liked the challenge of creating something. Though really it took a lot of higher learning before I truly began to process and comprehend the information coming my way non-stop from every direction and learnt to control and quiet it.”
“Higher learning?”
“I have dual PhD’s in Quantum Mechanics and Molecular Fusion.”
“You’re a rocket scientist?”
“Not at all. I just have a very good understanding of the behaviour and nature of matter at a scale below atoms. Oh, and I’ve been studying self-defence for the last year. My teacher is very impressed with my knee to groin technique. Plus, I’ve been working on my ability to split and re-combine existing matter, such as the contents of those syringes and an attacker’s stomach contents. The latter can get messy, but is proving effective as a means of immobilising any threats whilst they deal with the queasiness.”
“Shouldn’t you be in a lab somewhere, putting that big brain of yours to better use?”
Oh, the judgement. “Rather than fill people’s lives with joy by creating sugary treats? I don’t know, Mr Treasure Hunter slash Master Swordsman, shouldn’t you be off on the high seas finding lost civilisations and the like, rather than tending bar?”
“Touche.” Nico acknowledged with a wry look.
Huh, was he conceding she’d finally won a point? Stubborn man.
