I grinned, my voice playfully sinister when I said, “Maybe someone who’s willing to kill for one.”
“Don’t even joke about it. I don’t need another specter in my life. I’m all booked up on crazy.”
Shepherd clapped a hand on Wyatt’s shoulder, and Wyatt recoiled, spinning around and shoving him away. Wyatt took one look at Shepherd’s chest, and his eyes widened. He stumbled backward and then jogged in the other direction.
Shepherd glanced down and brushed his hand down his shirt as if he’d spilled something on it. “Viktor’s done checking out. Where’s Claude?”
The intercom switched on, and a woman repeated urgent codes on the PA.
Shepherd gripped the back of his neck, his eyes closed. “Don’t tell me. That’s for Claude, am I right?”
“Yep.”
Shepherd squinted, trying to see across the store. “This looks like something we’ll need to deny later.”
Chapter 2
Goingon a shopping spree with Keystone was like going to the carnival. Shepherd had to pry the human child away from Claude before the father went apeshit. And while the police never showed, Christian used his Vampire magic on the workers to scrub their memory of the whole affair. I couldn’t imagine having someone erase my memories so casually, as if they were cleaning a messy drawer.
After we gathered our purchases, we headed to the Breed district and pulled into the parking lot of a pawnshop called Pawn of the Dead.
“Clever,” I said, glancing up at the sign.
Wyatt leaned against his small car, which looked like a toy beside our black van. His black cowboy boots scraped on the asphalt as he shifted his feet. “Do you know why that name’s appropriate? Because when the final curtain comes down on an immortal, what do you think happens to all his stuff? He doesn’t have any kids, so unless he left a will, which most don’t, it gets turned over to the resale shops.” He tucked his hands in his green army jacket when a gust of wind ruffled his light-brown hair.
“I didn’t realize there was such a demand for other people’s junk,” I said.
“Junk? Some of these immortals have been around since before the Pharaohs. There’s some interesting shit in there you can’t even find in a museum.”
I’d never given much thought to the sheer number of possessions an immortal would amass after five or more centuries. Shifters, Chitahs, Gravewalkers, and Sensors were just a few examples of semi-immortal Breeds who lived a long time and could have children. Their stuff was probably passed down in the family and distributed among the children. But many immortals lived alone in mansions, and there was no telling how many rare collectibles they kept that were worth a fortune. Immortals severed ties with their human families, so it made me think twice about accumulating too many things. Someday they’d end up in a shop like this—my life for sale.
The team shuffled toward the door, spacing apart, but I stayed close to Wyatt to keep our conversation going.
“Nobody goes through their belongings before they’re hauled away to the shop?” I asked.
He rubbed his nose. “Sometimes Regulators poke around if they’re on the scene and filing a report, but nobody has time to wade through all that stuff and figure out what’s worth money. You gotta understand that most of these ancients hold on to things because they mean something personal, not because they’re valuable. They probably have gold bars lying around in the basement to ensure their survival, but you won’t see those on store shelves.”
“What about jewelry?”
“Yeah, they have a jewelry section. The people who clear out their homes when they die aren’t going to steal that stuff, though. It’s not worth the hassle since gemstone dealers don’t pay a whole lot. A few thousand dollars isn’t the kind of money that changes an immortal’s life.”
As soon as we entered the shop, it smelled like a musty old trunk. Just an ungodly mix of fragrances I couldn’t name.
“This is bigger than I thought it would be.”
He breezed by me. “And I thought you were a lady.”
The lighting wasn’t so great. There were numerous rows to our immediate left that reached the far wall and ran to the back of the store. Some of the items within view were things I’d never seen in human pawnshops. Spears, tapestries, oil paintings, marble sculptures, chalices, daggers, horns, and even an ivory ship. They didn’t just represent a bygone era; it was as if a millennia of artifacts from all over the world had assembled in one place. Straight ahead on the right wall was a glass counter that went to the back of the store. It traveled left for about ten feet and then looped back around—that side only half the length of the first counter. That area appeared separate from the rest of the shop, and there was also more light, which set off the jewelry and showcased the paintings. In the back left of the room was an open area that looked like a place for larger items like furniture and statues. There were a few people in the store—two at the glass counters and a man haggling with an employee.
Blue began checking out the weapons mounted on the far right wall. She didn’t like to be noticed in public, so she often wore a thin hood, whether it was attached to a shirt, sweater, or the brown leather jacket she had on. I guess she had no interest in fighting off flirtatious men when there was a job to do.
As I stood there with my mouth agape, Wyatt reached for my arm and yanked me down an aisle. “Come on, buttercup. Let’s find something pretty for my gal.”
I snorted. Wyatt was two hundred and barely looked thirty. He didn’t have the carved cheekbones Christian did or the look of death like Shepherd, but Wyatt had his own thing going on with personality and a kind face. His eyes were an olive green and almost matched his jacket. When I glimpsed us in a security mirror, I realized how odd we looked together. I tried smiling a little so I didn’t look like someone who just set hell on fire.
When an old Victrola captivated Wyatt’s attention, I branched away from him and browsed a different aisle. A stuffed coyote looked ready to attack, and I reached out to touch one of his fangs.
My heart leapt in my chest when someone gripped my shoulder. I reached for my dagger, but a strong hand ensnared my wrist.
