ChapterThirty-Three
If you are lucky enough to find a way of life you love, you have to find thecourageto live it. —Bette Davis
Waking in Seven’s arms is like a dream. He’s warm and beautiful, even with his hair mussed from our lovemaking. I’ve lost count of how many times he made me come. We’ve been sleeping and fucking off and on all night long. His arms reach for me again, and I push them away.
“I need water, Seven, and maybe a snack. Sustenance!”
He blinks at me sleepily. “Help yourself to anything in the kitchen. Hurry back.” He presses a sleepy kiss to my temple.
I slide out of bed and snatch his shirt from the floor. It’s as long as a dress on me, and I roll the sleeves and button the front. There’s no one here but us, but the last thing I want is to see my naked reflection in all the polished gold and ebony in this place. I slip out of the room, closing the door quietly behind me.
This penthouse is huge. I stroll down the hall in the direction of the kitchen only to realize that I’ve gone the wrong way. Where I expect the living room to be with its koi river and floor-to-ceiling windows, I find a library with floor-to-ceiling books. I must be at the back of the building. A short investigation confirms my hypothesis as the windows in this room have a southern view of the city. Wow. His home takes up the entire top floor.
I whirl, forgetting about my hunger and thirst when I see the books and artifacts lining the shelves. At the very center of the room is a desk with an ink blotter and a reading lamp. Surrounding it are leather volumes and the occasional piece of art. I start walking the first row. Interesting. Most of these are anthropology books. The next row is biology. The next chemistry. Gods, what I would give for a good romance. I had no idea Seven was into such heavy courses of study. If anything, I’d think he’d have business books.
As I turn down the center row, I spot a door in the side of the room. It stands out because it’s made of glass and there’s a pad to the right with a digital display of the temperature and humidity inside. Interesting. I’ve seen this before. A friend at the Bellagio once took me on a tour of the museum archives. Seven must have a special collection of rare artifacts to require such a room.
Curiosity fills me, and I attempt to enter. It’s locked but there’s a keypad. I think for a minute and then spend some luck to come up with my best guess. I type in the date we met. It doesn’t work. I try the day I came back. Locked. My mouth twitches. Gods, I could just ask the man. An hour ago, I had my finger in his ass; I’m sure he’d show me around his special collection. But the gambler in me is obsessed now. I want to break the code. Using a bit more luck, I concentrate, and another date pops into my head, one that holds far less enjoyable connotations. It’s the date of the Yule Ball. The date Seven ghosted me and I took out my sorrows in the arms of a human man I never saw again.
The door clicks. Lights turn on automatically with my movement, and what I see on the shelves insideconfusesme. Seven isn’t preserving archaeology or artwork. I’m surrounded by… charms. For a moment, I feel like I’m back in my parents’ store, only the items here are preserved like butterflies under glass. Stacks of wide and thin display drawers are stored inside three large shelves. I slide a drawer out. Acorns composed of all different materials and in a variety of sizes are displayed on blue velvet behind the protective panel. I slide it back into the shelf. The next one exhibits evil eyes and hamsas. I return it to its place. My mouth drops open when I inspect the next display. Horseshoes, and one of them is blue. That is definitely blue iron.
Frost fills my veins, and I all but shove the drawer into place and then back away from it. My ass bumps another shelf, and I whirl. Something gold catches my eye, and I pull out the second drawer down. Rows of maneki-nekos stare up at me through the window of their box. None of them is exactly like Kiko, but they’re all similar. I make out the familiar hint of blue on one of the arms.
What the hell is this? Blue iron is forbidden in Devashire, and these objects thrum with their own power. Seven is collecting good luck charms, some of them ancient, some of them newly minted. I glance down to see a display of gold coins on the bottom shelf similar to the one he’d used in Shadowvale.
This is a strange hobby at best. At worst, it’s the sign of a man obsessed with amplifying his power. I stare and stare. Something about all this is bothering me, but I can’t quite put it together.
And then the door behind me opens, and Seven is standing there in a pair of black silk pajama bottoms and nothing else. “This isn’t the kitchen.” His eyes wrinkle at the corners.
“I got lost.” I swallow. “What is this, Seven? There’s blue iron in here.” I shake my head.
He leans a shoulder against the inside of the door. “My mother collected lucky artifacts. Some of these were hers. She got me started when I was young. Leprechauns are born with more luck than any creature on the planet, but luck requires focus and experience. After my father drove you away and my mother left him, I started researching magical objects in earnest. Have you ever wondered how Godmother went from lucky to inherently magical? Some say objects like these amplified her power and then changed it altogether. My mother used objects like these to free herself from my father. I thought I might need to use them one day as well.”
What? I knew Seven’s mother had divorced his father, but I didn’t realize she had escaped his clutches using ancient luck magic. “Where is your mother now, Seven?”
He chuckles. “No one knows. Not even me.”
A chill courses through me.
“Oh, she’s alive. She sent me a letter a few years back to say she was safe but couldn’t risk telling me where she lived. She’s using luck to protect herself from discovery.” He rubs the back of his neck. “Maybe if she hears that Dad’s in Ashgate, she’ll come out of hiding.”
I turn back toward the case. “The coin you used against the beast in Shadowvale and Yissevel…”
“Protects its bearer from harm. Unfortunately, it doesn’t protect anyone else. I had to throw it at Yissevel’s eye to distract him from you.”
I run my fingers along the maneki-nekos and stare at them longingly. “I had to destroy Kiko to take Chance down.”
“Take one.”
“Where did you find them? I’ve never seen them in any of the shops. It’s always been a mystery to me where Dark Stranger got Kiko.”
“Dark Stranger?” He squeezes his eyes shut for a long blink and laughs. “They don’t exist anywhere in Devashire but here, not with the properties you want. I obtained these from Koyasan.”
I start to reach for one but stop when his words hit home. “If these lucky cats aren’t available in Dragonfly, where did Arden’s father get the one he gave me?”
Even though I’ve never told Seven that Kiko came from Arden’s father, he doesn’t react to the news, and I stiffen when I see the look on his face. He’s suddenly distant, like his mind is somewhere else.
“I looked for you, Sophia. I used every bit of extra luck I had to try to find you. I thought you must be dead or under the protection of another leprechaun because nothing I tried worked. I was amplifying myself with every type of charm I could get my hands on. I searched hours of security footage. I hired investigators.”
