“This was my most comfortable shirt,” I muttered.
He swung the knife again and I sidestepped, cracking a hard hit to his right eye. He moaned, and now the dagger came at me wildly in downward arcs. I swerved out of reach, barely avoiding the edge of the blade.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” I hissed. “Enough.”
The short man came at me again, eyes wild. The edge of his weapon scraped against my other arm—I cursed, pivoting, and then I drove the tip of my pointed newspaper up through the underside of his chin. His eyes widened as blood spewed out of his mouth. With my index finger, I gently poked his chest, and he toppled over in a messy heap.
I glanced down at my shirt and sighed. There’d be no cleaning it now. Quickly, I dragged the man into the room where I had knocked the other guards unconscious. I took off one of their masks and shirts and hurriedly put on both before doubling back to the artifacts. I kicked over a rolled-up rug to cover the blood just as someone else entered the room, carrying a clipboard.
“It’s time for the next artifact,” he said, wrinkling his nose. “My God, the smell in this room.” He pointed to the statuette impatiently. “It’s that one, and don’t forget to wear the gloves.”
“Fine,” I said. “I’m right behind you.”
I found the gloves on top of another crate and dragged them on before taking the asp out of its nest of wrappings. Then I followed him to the auction room, peering over his shoulder at the clipboard in his hands.
On it were pages filled with addresses.
I smiled to myself before taking the stage.
CAPÍTULO CATORCE
The man looked at me expectantly, brows raised above the line of his mask. The upper portion of his face was hidden, but his lips were pressed into a flat, disapproving line. I got the sense that he didn’t like this errand, and that it was perhaps an unusual request to make during the auction.
“The founder wants to see me,” I repeated.
Isadora lifted her chin. “Whatever for?”
Perhaps the founder wanted to verify I had the funds or he simply wanted to meet me. Either way, I knew of no way to extricate myself from this situation without drawing notice or suspicion. My idea only worked if I followed it through. “It’s all right, Isadora.”
She narrowed her eyes at me. “I’m going with you.”
“If you’d like,” the man said. “But he only wants to see her.”
“I heard you the first time,” Isadora said coolly. “But my sister goes nowhere without me.”
“Suit yourself—but you will wait outside the room while they discuss business.”
“That’s not acceptable.”
The man didn’t bother to reply but waited for us to exit the last row, and with an impervious air, he bade us to follow after him. I felt as if I were a child who had misbehaved during dinner and now had to face judgment. He walked briskly, and I felt, rather than saw, the weight of everyone’s curiosity as they tracked my movements. Isadora maintained the admirable lift of her chin, but her hand hovered close to her skirt pocket whereI knew she kept her sleek little handgun, a small case of bullets, and the extra gun she’d picked up downstairs.
She was a walking armory.
The masked man led us to the opposite wing of the building, past empty rooms that might have been offices, until he reached the last chamber at the end of the corridor. “Here we are.”
He held the door open and waited for me to pass.
Isadora glared at the man, and I lightly touched her arm. “I’ll be fine, Isadora.” I gave her a pointed look, and slightly raised my eyebrows. If there was trouble, she need only scream for help. Our companions were close by.
She nodded in understanding.
“You’ll be all right out here on your own?” I asked my sister.
Isadora shot a cool look at our stoic companion. “I think he means to keep me company.”
“He does,” the man said, and I caught the faintest hint of amusement.
Satisfied that nothing would happen to Isadora, I walked into the room to find the founder facing away from me, intent on looking out the window. He was the only person within. There were no chairs, not one cushion or bookshelf. Under my feet were dirty rugs, flattened so thin I barely felt them. The walls and ceiling were bare, and the only decoration came from the moldy curtains pushed against the right side of the window. But there was one table and on it were three lit candles, casting sinister shadows from the man faced away from me.
