“Fine. How much?”
Cosmo tapped his fingers against his puka shell necklace, which matched his shipwrecked wardrobe. By his gaunt face, you’d think he’d spent the past five years on a deserted island instead of behind a counter. “Two hundred smackeroos.”
I marveled at the play of colors within the milky-white stone on the letter opener. The handle fit nicely in my palm. Too bad it wasn’t a weapon. “It’s not real gold,” I pointed out. “This looks more like brass.”
“You’re getting a deal. That stone is an opal, and I could charge a lot more in a human store for it.”
I gave him a sardonic smile. “So what you’re telling me is that it has no value in a Breed shop. I’ll give you fifty dollars.”
“Lookie, you people take more than enough from me. If you run me out of business, what’ll you do with all your free time?” Cosmo was probably a master haggler, so no matter what, he was going to walk away ahead of what he paid for it. “I’ll go as low as one seventy. Take it or leave it.”
I almost turned away, but then I considered what a cool gift this would make for Gem. Hooper’s death had been rough on her, and maybe we hadn’t done a good job of making her feel appreciated. Gem loved surprises, and I knew how she felt about gemstones. This one was probably loaded with all that chakra energy she was always going on about.
I took out my wallet and counted the bills before setting them on the counter. Meanwhile, Viktor and Claude collected two boxes and hauled them out to the van.
“So what’s the history behind it?” I asked.
Cosmo put the money in his cash drawer. “Beats me. That’s why it’s not in the glass counter. People like a good story tied to their shit. Enforcers confiscated it in some sting operation on a Mage who was buying and destroying artifacts and historical goods. He’s dead now. That’s all I know.”
“Why would anyone destroy history?”
“To hide secrets. That box your pixie friend made off with includes a few books from that bust. She’s lucky she got anything. The Mageri got dibs on everything pertaining to Mage history; the rest of it they hauled here. Most of the shit was unsellable. The spines were rotting and paper decayed. The only thing salvageable was leftover junk from his personal collection. Sometimes people keep old stuff from their past for sentimental reasons even though it’s damaged. Can you believe they also gave me his toothbrush and shaving kit?” Cosmo rolled his eyes. “Do I look like I have time to go through a dead man’s toiletries?”
Cosmo turned away, still rambling about all the extra work he did. I didn’t have anything against the guy aside from the fact he was an asshole.
We all had our faults.
* * *
Once we made it home,Gem dashed off to her secret room to sort through her newfound treasures. Viktor disappeared with his box of weapons while everyone else gravitated to the courtyard. The weather simply demanded it. After weeks of gloomy skies and abundant rain, the grass had overgrown, making it perfect to lie on. While Kira had done a magnificent job pruning the native bushes and vines, Viktor scheduled for the lawn service people to stop by on their riding mowers.
Instead of joining everyone out in the sun, I relaxed on the veranda, sipping my tea and watching Hunter leap around the courtyard like a frog. Bees hovered near a holly tree as if they had found their oasis.
Blue strolled along one of the pathways, the breeze ruffling her long brown hair. Unlike mine, her hair was as straight as a board. She was barefoot, her cargo pants rolled up to the knee. After passing Wyatt and Shepherd, who were chatting on a bench, she stopped by her favorite winged statue of a grief-stricken man. I had to admit there was nothing angelic about the statues around Keystone. They were either battling or suffering. Niko snoozed on a patch of grass, his fingers laced across his chest and his eyes closed. How regretful that he couldn’t see how vibrant the sky looked against the stone exterior of the mansion, like a sapphire jewel in a crafted setting.
Christian stepped outside with dark sunglasses shading his sensitive eyes. He sat down between the arches of the short wall in front of me. “Where’s Claude?”
I crossed my legs and looked into the courtyard behind him. “I think he passed out in the grass somewhere. Hunter wore him out. They were playing tag for about an hour.”
“That’s hardly fair. A wee lad against a Chitah.”
“Wyatt made him wear a blindfold, so he kept smacking into things.”
“’Tis a shame I missed that spectacle.” Christian’s gaze swept down to my bare legs, and he licked his lips. “Will you be wearing those shorts all summer? They don’t cover much, lass.”
I stretched my long leg in his direction so he could get a better view. “I’m a bad girl.”
His fangs descended slightly. “Indeed, you are.”
Christian wasn’t wearing his usual grim attire of a trench coat over a Henley. He looked so out of character in a black tank top and jeans.
“I didn’t know you liked jeans.”
A crooked smile wound up his face. “It’s laundry day.”
“You should buy a pair of those tight bicycle shorts.”
“Over my rotting corpse.”
