“Some. Though I suspect most of the items are from the deceased.”
“I thought all that stuff was sent to places like Pawn of the Dead.”
Niko tilted his head. “Your brain is always working. You can question the higher authority when you get there if you like.”
“I’d rather just eat cake.”
“That’s probably a wise idea. If you ask too many questions, it raises suspicion. Inquisitive minds are not often as celebrated in our world as in the human one you came from. Would you like to join me downstairs for a cup of tea?”
I looked at the folded paper in my hand. “Sounds good. Give me a few minutes. I need to take care of something.”
After we parted ways, I headed up to my bedroom and closed the door. A few candles burned low, barely enough light to see the furniture. I rounded my bed and approached the desk, setting the paper down on top of a file. I lifted the lid to my music box, and as the melody began, the tiny ballerina twirled in a circle.
I admired my modest collection of personal things, including a diary that had once belonged to a girl named Penny Burns. It wasn’t really mine to keep, but I’d read it twice more since the case. I shoved some pens and paper aside to make room for the fake roses I usually kept on my nightstand. As insignificant as these things might have appeared, they belonged to me, and that made this place feel more like home.
As the melody slowed down, I lifted the heart-shaped necklace from my neck and placed it inside. Now I had a home for my heart. I took a seat in the wooden chair and fiddled with the metal puzzle box.
Viktor taking a chance on me had been the best thing that could have happened given the direction I was heading at the time he found me. Maybe I didn’t have a completely functional moral compass, but with Keystone, I made a difference. If only my father could have seen us saving that baby. It made me regret that I hadn’t told him every detail, but I’d been afraid Christian would have more to erase and might accidentally scrub something important, like the fact that I ever existed.
A click sounded in my hands, and I looked down. I’d pressed the cube in two different spots, causing a piece of it to slide out. I took a close look to remember what I’d done, and then I forced the block to the side as far as it would go. I peered inside the hole, unable to see anything. After five minutes of messing with it, I triggered another opening. Curious, I tugged and pulled at the pieces until one side twisted away from the cube and revealed the core. It looked like a black box within the cube. I couldn’t find a way to pry it open, but when I pushed it with my finger, another click sounded, and it opened like a door with tiny hinges.
I blinked at the contents.
Inside was a key pressed into foam.
All that trouble for a key. Probably someone’s extra house key. I carefully closed the sides, remembering the order that allowed me to open it.
Before heading downstairs to chat with Niko over some hot tea—and he made a mean cup—I spotted something I hadn’t noticed when coming into my room just moments ago. Neatly folded at the foot of my bed was a new coat, just like the one that I’d lost in the Bricks. Also at the foot of my bed, a pair of boots. But they weren’t new, because I noticed scuffs on the toe. While I couldn’t be certain, they looked a lot like the ones I’d traded underground.
I guess I had a few mysteries of my own.
Chapter 27
Ilifteda champagne flute from a tray and breezed through the crowd until I found an empty corner. This charity ball was no joke. People were dressed to the nines, and even my black dress looked plain. Maybe it was a little too short, but I thought cocktail parties with short dresses were the norm. The studded leather bracelet probably wasn’t, but it was a prized possession. Not because it used to belong to me, but because it was one of the few personal effects of mine that my father had saved for sentimental reasons.
After gulping down my second glass, I decided to ease up on the booze. I recognized a familiar face across the room. Hooper stood behind a long table, mixing drinks. This was a far cry from working in the Nine Circles of Hell club, and he stuck out like a sore thumb with his lip rings and the designs shaved on each side of his head. White cloth covered the tables. Behind him, another long table where they kept the alcohol and glasses.
Gem looked dejected without Claude at her side, but she masked it well with a mechanical smile and all that silver glitter around her eyes. Claude was an attentive friend to her, and perhaps I wasn’t gregarious enough to be good company during events like these. Gem didn’t care much for dressing appropriately—she had a different approach when it came to style. Her fairy dress was made of chiffon and had a bustled skirt that didn’t quite reach her knees. The colors were beautifully blended shades of violet and ivory, and she was decked out in crystal necklaces and bracelets that sparkled beneath the lights. She even had a crown of flowers on her head. Guests at these functions didn’t notice people who went over the top. The ones who got the side eye were people like Wyatt, who was wearing his THE FUCK I GAVE WENT THAT WAY T-shirt.
I set my empty glass on a tray when a waiter breezed by. Standing alone was awkward, but when I decided to head over and talk to Gem, my plan fell apart as I saw her getting chatty with Hooper. Gem didn’t drink, so she couldn’t have been requesting a complicated drink order. They both shared a funky sense of style, and since like generally attracts like, I decided to leave them be.
Shepherd slowly climbed the stairs, distancing himself from the crowd. Viktor had a glass of wine in his hand while two patrons listened with rapt attention as he told the story about how children sold on the black market are stolen from their mother’s arms. Blue looked liked she wanted to dodge the attention she was receiving from a tall man who couldn’t take his eyes off her sage gown and feather earrings, which he kept touching. But she was dutifully encouraging donations with her plunging neckline and guile.
Perhaps I needed to do the same.
I entered a grand room where a string quartet enchanted the crowd with heavenly music. It was as if my music box had come to life. Couples twirled and glided, every one of them in perfect form. Sumptuous gowns floated gracefully, creating a magnificent array of color and texture.
Christian appeared next to me.
“Holy fuck. I thought we were mercenaries, not ballroom dancers,” I said, gawking at the dancers before us.
“Is bathing and putting on decent clothes the worst thing about your job?”
“No. Smelling your rancid cologne is.”
He chuckled. “The ladies do like.”
I stole a glance. Christian had on a suit vest—no jacket. The most dressed up I’d seen him was in a silk shirt or a Henley, but this was a whole new look to marvel over. Even his grey slacks matched his vest. While he had knotted his tie to precision, there was one thing unkempt about him—his sleeves were sloppily rolled up to the elbows. Christian didn’t just look like a gentleman—he portrayed himself as a powerful man who belonged among these people, which just went to prove what a chameleon he was.
