“Even for fun?”
I warmed my hands around the soup bowl. “I don’t really miss it because I’ve never been in love. Not the way you’re supposed to be when you want to spend forever with someone. The only thing I miss is…”
Gem leaned in. “Yes?”
“It sounds ridiculous.”
“I’m not going to tell anyone. Cross my heart,” she said, tracing an invisible X over her breast.
“I miss kissing. Not the sloppy, desperate kind right before you have sex, but that slow burn, like when they lean in close, cup your face in their hands, and breathe you in. Then he puts his mouth against yours, but he waits for just a second, making you think about it so you want it even more. I miss that heat and chemistry you feel when you first kiss a man and just know he’s the kind of guy you want to take to bed.”
She fanned herself. “You’re making me miss it too.”
We both laughed.
“Don’t you get bored around here between jobs?” I asked.
Gem didn’t go in the rock-climbing room much, and aside from the television and games, the only thing left to do was read from the musty old books on various bookshelves throughout the mansion.
She blew a heated breath on her spoon and balanced it on her nose. “Most of us work. Either Viktor gives us an assignment, or we do our usual duties.”
That struck me as odd since no one had mentioned anything. “You mean chores?”
“Well, those too.” When the spoon fell off her nose, she stood up. “Come on. I’ll show you.”
Gem led me across the mansion to the hall that wrapped around the east wing. Her black-and-white platform sneakers with the two-inch lift squeaked softly against the floor as we went.
I loved the stone walls and arched ceilings. Some windows were latticed, while others were stained glass. The architects who designed this place did so with great care, putting detail in everything from the shape of the stone banisters to the arched entranceways and wood doors. It made me feel as though I’d stepped back in time and entered the Middle Ages.
She veered left where the recessed wall revealed a cozy space large enough for a bench or two. Some of the halls had these little alcoves, and while they often had chairs, this one did not. She reached behind the lantern on the right and struck a match, lighting the wick inside. Gem lifted the lantern from the hook and then faced the wall. When she placed her hand on a stone, it pushed in, and the wall turned like a revolving door, just enough for us to slip through the open crack on the right side.
“Where are we?” I asked in the darkness, my voice reverberating off the walls.
Gem closed the wall behind us and strode forward, the lantern casting enough light to reveal the high ceiling. She set the lantern on a table and began lighting more that were either hanging on the wall or resting on tables. “This is where I work.”
“You have your own secret room?” I admired the surrounding walls, which were nothing but wooden shelves filled with books and curiosities.
“This house has many secrets.” Every candle and lantern she lit made the room even more luminous. “Isn’t it beautiful? The shelves were already here, and they’re perfect for what I do.”
I drifted toward the large wooden desk in the center of the room, which sat on top of an emerald-green rug trimmed in gold. “And what exactly do you do?”
She put her knee on a chair and rested her elbows on the distressed wood finish. “I translate. It’s the perfect space for my work, and nobody disturbs me in here. That’s the golden rule since interpreting information requires concentration.”
I turned the pages of an old book.
“Andthatis the bane of my existence,” she said gruffly. “Everything in this room has ancient writing on it or in it. Some of these books contain languages I’ve never seen before, so there’s a lot of etymological research. I look at how language has evolved, but sometimes I have to go backwards and figure out how it began. Some of these came from Breeds that are extinct, but we can’t lose or dispose of them, because they’re a part of our history.”
“So this is a museum?”
She grinned. “Sort of. It’s more like a historical preservation archive. Relic hunting not only turns up clues on modern crimes, but we find all kinds of historical artifacts that need to be preserved and interpreted. Sometimes we find things that Viktor wants to make sure don’t fall into the wrong hands. At least, not until we understand what we have. I once found an old cup with an inscription at the base, and it took me over a year to track down the language and break it apart so I could translate it. Turns out it belonged to some ancient Mage who died over a thousand years ago. The writing was the names of his progeny.”
“What happened?”
“Well, we tracked down the names and found that two of them were still alive. Viktor sensed something was fishy when they pretended not to know the guy. I think that was probably Christian’s first job with Keystone. He charmed them for information, and it turns out they murdered their Creator for his fortune. Can you believe that?”
“Wow.” I took a seat in the chair beside her.
“No kidding. We handed them over to the Mageri, and I think there was a trial. They didn’t get the death penalty, but I heard they’re serving time. Karma catches up with you,” she said in a singsong voice.
