Chapter 1
Of all the pawnshops in Cognito, Pawn of the Dead sold some of the rarest antiquities I’d ever seen. After hours of relic hunting, this was our fourth and final destination for the day. Our unannounced inspections always inspired shopkeepers to find creative ways to conceal their contraband, but they all knew the drill. While our confiscating illegal paraphernalia cut into their profits, it certainly didn’t deter them. Weapons like guns, axes, machetes, knives, and so forth were permissible—they could even sell cannons for all we cared. What made an item banned from public sale was infusion with magic meant to subdue or kill Breed. Impalement stakes included, even though they were found in nature. It wasn’t illegal to own a stunner or carry one, but the higher authority outlawed those items from sale in public stores. They not only felt it sent the wrong message, but humans could easily get their hands on the weapons.
It had been a few weeks since I’d moved out of my father’s house and back in with Keystone. Viktor had wasted no time taking on new assignments. Christian and I had spent a week tracking down a Vamp who was leaving corpses in the human district after draining them dry. Blood addiction was a nasty thing, and this guy had been so out of control that it didn’t take long to apprehend him.
In the act.
I hefted a vase and studied the inscription on the bottom.
“Lookie what I found!” Gem bounded toward me, her arms clutching a book tightly to her chest, her eyes lit with excitement. With each step, her wavy hair bounced, the pale lavender locks just as vibrant as her violet eyes. Watching her run in stacked shoes was amusing, but she managed to do it with grace and flair.
I glanced down at her discovery. “What’s so exciting about a book?”
Claude barked out a laugh from the next aisle over.
Ignoring him, Gem set the book on a shelf and gingerly lifted the cover to let me peek inside. “Fifteenth-century Portugal, written by a Relic scholar. Justlookat the calligraphy.”
Her bright pink fingernails hovered above the page but didn’t touch.
“What’s the significance?” I asked, setting my vase on a higher shelf.
“It proves that Breed existed in Portugal! Immortals like to trace back their ancestry just like humans, but it’s a little easier for us to go further back. Shifters insist that no Breed dwelled in Portugal until they claimed territory in the eighteenth century. This book not only proves unequivocally that they’re wrong, but there’s also mention of a Mage architect. Who knows how many others were there? That’s why I love pawnshops. We’re literally discovering history.”
Gem acted as if someone had rolled her up in unicorn sparkles and tossed her in a pink cloud of joy. She always got excited when discovering uncommon objects, but historical books were her catnip.
I scratched my eyebrow with my pinky. “What’s the point of learning history? All you have are these books written in secret or a few illegal paintings and photographs, but you’re not allowed to make them public. The higher authority doesn’t want us to know about our past. We’re not allowed to document or record details about our lives. No pictures, no names, nada.”
Unaffected by my cynicism, she lifted her chin. “Maybe someday that’ll change. If we ever go public and reveal ourselves to humans, names won’t matter anymore. But in the meantime, we have to save everything. Our history is just as important as theirs, if not more. Before the higher authority was around, there were simply elders who would try to maintain order. Most of them banned us from writing books, and they worked hard to destroy them. So the very fact that some survived is a miracle. Most wound up in personal collections, but think of how many were tossed as scrap after the owner died!”
A tall man appeared at the far end of the aisle with a mask on his face. I recognized Claude’s white T-shirt and V-shaped torso. While the paint was faded, the mask’s expression was exaggerated and demonic.
Gem rocked on her heels, oblivious to Claude’s antics as she closed the book and lifted it off the shelf. “It’s even written in a rare dialect spoken by Relics. They had a language that was code so that only they could read it.”
“Why would they write it all down if they pass it in their DNA?”
“Not all Relics have children, so some of them used to document all their knowledge in books that would become their legacy.”
Claude inched closer behind her.
I regarded him impassively before looking at Gem’s new treasure. “What do you do with all the books you find?”
“I translate them. Not everyone understands these languages, so I copy all the text in English to new books and preserve the originals in the archive.”
“Maybe they belong in a library.”
She gazed up in wonderment. “A Breed library? Imagine, piles of books as tall as the ceiling and rows that go on forever. Alas, my dreams are dashed by politically enforced laws that prohibit the exhibition of Breed literature.” Gem spun on her heel like a cartoon character and shrieked at Claude.
The book hit the floor with athwack.
Claude’s long arms reached for her, his fingers curled like claws.
“Jiminy Christmas! Look what you made me do, you big scamp.” She bent down and cradled the book in her arms before springing back to her feet. “And just so you know, that Polynesian mask is inhabited by an ancient spirit. Anyone you look at through its eyes is cursed.”
Gem strode away, her pleated skirt swishing from side to side. She was so petite that from behind, she looked like a teenager.
Claude removed the painted mask and shook out his curls of golden hair. “I love her vernacular.” He gave me a sheepish grin and set the mask on the shelf. “Do you think it’s really cursed?”
I looked up at Claude, who was a good ten inches taller than me. “Everything in here is probably cursed. You didn’t look atme, did you? I’ve got enough hexes going on. I don’t need another.”
