He’d spent a good number of sleepless nights over the past year wracking his brain, looking back, searching for signs that he should have seen, castigating himself for being a naïve, trusting fool. And replaying the memory over and over again of the moment he broke that lying, murderous bitch’s neck -snap. So easy. So simple.
He kept thinking he should feel some kind of remorse. For taking a life. Yet every time Nico thought about that moment, his blood boiled with outrage that she hadn’t paid a higher price for her crimes. His only regret? Kristiah’s life had ended too quickly, too cleanly. And just what did that say about him these days? Retired treasure hunter. Bar owner. Killer.
Killer?
A one-off incident. Taking the life of the woman who’d murdered his parents and friends. The woman he’d spent a decade searching for. A woman he’d mourned along with Copper as the years passed and he began to fear they were both dead. Only to find out Kristiah was alive and the catalyst for every bit of tragedy in his life. Many would say her death was justice, orkarma. They wouldn’t hold Nico’s actions against him. One time, given the circumstances, was forgivable.
Snap.
Staring down at the crumpled body of the intruder, Nico wondered what everyone would say about him now. Two bodies under his belt. Waiting for a wave of remorse that never arrived, all he felt was vindicated, annoyed and curious. Who the hell was this asshole? And what the fuck had they been doing in his kitchen at four in the morning, contemplating the contents of the large refrigerator that contained all their premade sauces, relishes and condiments?
Flicking on the light above the nearest workstation, Nico moved back to the intruder for a closer look. Huh. That was new. Unless the housebreakers’ guild had a new dress requirement, he was guessing togas would be considered an anomaly amongst their members.
The garment was short and pale blue. It didn’t shriek expert house burglar attire.
Crouching down, Nico gave the body a push, rolling the man over on to his back. Okay, the weirdness didn’t just stop with the dude’s attire. The body was emitting a soft golden glow. He hadn’t been aware of it when he was sneaking up behind the guy because of the glare from the open refrigerator light. But now, it was undeniable. And not just the dude’s skin, but his hair, a mass of tousled golden curls, gleamed abnormally.
The intruder was clean shaven. With three old scars clearly visible thanks to his attire. One on his forearm, probably due to a sharp-edged weapon. And two more on his torso, one long and jagged running along his upper ribs. The dude was muscular, but lean. The scars revealing he’d at one time been a fighter. Though they had long healed. And there was an interesting tattoo on his right bicep. A sword crossed with a hammer to form an X. Itlooked a little incongruous on this tousled-haired golden man, who, based upon looks alone, screamed gym poseur, not fighter.
There was a black webbed pouch belted around his waist. It stood out since it was the only modern item the guy was wearing. Carefully undoing the zip, Nico stared down at the contents. Crap. A capped stainless steel syringe, currently nestled in polystyrene packaging, stared back at him. What the hell was going on?
So many questions battered at Nico. All the typical ones. Who? Why? What the fuck?
Although he could get an answer to at least one question. Gingerly, Nico opened the pouch a little wider, reaching in, carefully avoiding anything to do with that sinister syringe. He pulled out the silver item that had alerted him to the intruder’s presence.
Abruptly, the golden glow switched off. The body now just a tanned, curly-haired blonde dude wearing a toga, dead on his kitchen floor. Nothing special to see here folks, move it along.
Nico held the ring up to the light, frowning. It was a woman’s ring. Tiny. No way would it have fit this dude’s pinkie even. Gleaming, as if it had just been made yesterday. Resting atop the ring was a silver dove, wings splayed wide as if taking flight.
In ancient times, doves signified love and devotion. Given as pledges of troth or promises to be kept. Despite its tiny size, the ring weighed on Nico’s senses like an elephant. Its age undeterminable by mere sight, but Nico’s magic whispered the answer. The ring was roughly ten thousand years old.
Standing up, Nico grabbed a paper towel, wrapping it around the ring. That felt slightly better. Touching the bare metal had felt strangely unclean. They say things don’t hold memories, but the Yanez family would beg to differ, given their experiences with ancient treasures. And for some reason, this tiny ring madeNico’s gut churn with distaste and suspicion, which made no sense.
Huh, but what the hell was making sense this morning?
An intruder breaks into a bar. Wearing a toga and roman sandals, for Saints’ sake. And prior to getting his neck snapped, the guy had glowed distinctly golden.
This amateur hadn’t been here for Nico or any of his siblings. He’d headed straight for the kitchen, one refrigerator in particular. One plus one surely equated to the fact that this glo-worm’s intentions had been to inject whatever shit was in that syringe into one or more of the bar’s foodstuffs. And then what? Wait for people to start dying? Random people and times? since who could guess who would be a customer and what they would choose to order.
Presumably, whoever had sent this idiot intended to set the Yanez family up to take the blame for the first strike in their campaign against the Southern Sanctuary. Likely considering them perfect patsies since they were relatively new in town. Although both his siblings had married into the local extended eccentric magical family and they’d been welcomed into the fold with open arms.
Staring at the body wasn’t giving Nico any answers. He should call the local police. Except, knowing his luck, one or more of the McKenzie brothers would be on duty. And those guys loathed him. He didn’t fancy spending what was left of the night in lock up until Sheriff Hughes cleared up this mess. Yeah, so the local police were out.
His second option was also out. His new brother-in-law, Elijah, Head of the Enforcers, had whisked Copper away to Greece. Not a honeymoon, they had loudly proclaimed, a hunt. Okay, so that just left—
“Third choice. Really? That’s kind of galling.”
Spinning around, heart pounding, Nico glared at Darcy Montgomery, currently leaning against the door leading into the walk-in freezer. Saint Medard. Most people might start babbling out an explanation of why they’d been discovered standing over a body with a snapped neck in their kitchen in the wee small hours of the morning. Not Nico. Who just continued to glare. Was she eating an ice cream?
Thanks to running the bar, Nico had spent a little time in Darcy’s company. Plus of course he’d read the warning pamphlet regarding her - that they’d been given when they first moved here - cover to cover and memorised it.
Darcy couldn’t read minds. Though thanks to her Spider Mage magic she was pretty darn good at guessing what people were thinking. Nor did she have the entire Sanctuary wired with cameras. She was just often bored, especially when her meld mate was assigned night duty, tending to wander the district, testing her skills against her family’s determination to keep her out of their abodes. Locks and magical deterrents fell by the wayside wherever Darcy went. More than one disgruntled relative too often woke in the morning to find Darcy had reorganised their furniture, or left them a shopping list regarding items they were running low on in the fridge.
“Do you recognise him?” Nico stepped slightly to the side so she could view the body better.
“I recognise the type. He looks like he runs with the deity crowd. Probably low on the power scale, given you snapped his neck rather tidily.”
“He glowed before he died.”
