It was not an easy task. We pored over the books and the journal for four straight days. Along with that, we both did a lot of online detective work, but that was less dependable than the books. Anyone could post something on the internet, and you had no real way of knowing if it was true.
On the fifth day of our research quest, Declan leaned over the laptop, reading something while I ate a grilled cheese sandwich.
“You sure you know how to use that thing?” I said, a faint grin touching my lips.
“What do you mean?” he said absently, clicking something with the touchpad.
“I mean, you are pretty old. Those things weren’t invented that long ago. It’s new tech, right?”
With incremental slowness, he turned to look at me. “Are you being a smart-ass right now?”
I smirked at him and popped the last of my sandwich into my mouth. “Maybe. Unless you can’t handle it.”
I didn’t care how old he was. At this point, I liked and was attracted to him for who he was. The guy could have been sixty, and it wouldn’t have mattered.
He looked at me for several long moments before a smile finally cracked his stone face. “I can handle anything you can dish out, Curly Sue.”
I gasped, putting a hand to my chest in mock horror. “Howdareyou, sir. These curls arefuckingexquisite.” I flipped my hair for emphasis.
“Is that what they’re calling it now?” he said and shrugged. “Interesting.”
Not only was Declan pretty damn brilliant when it came to both detective work and research, but he was funny too. Especially once you managed to break through that wall he had built up. We’d bantered back and forth like this since the night before, and as good-natured and fun as it was, there was also a weird undercurrent of sexual tension that simmered, ready to boil over. At least there was for me. Declan was so guarded that itwas hard to tell. He enjoyed having me around, but whenever I imagined I saw a little glimmer in his eye, or if I thought I caught him staring at my chest, he’d do something that made me think it was all in my imagination, and I was too nervous to make a move and see if this attraction was one-sided.
Though, I’d beenveryclose the night before when he’d gone into the garage to get a workout in. Without his equipment, he’d had to revert to bodyweight exercises. I’d walked past the open mudroom door and peeked in while he’d done burpees, sit-ups, and push-ups without his shirt on. At the time, I’d felt a bit like a peeping tom, but when I saw his sweat-slicked abs, chest, shoulders, and arms, I decided some things were worth being a bit inappropriate.
“Anyway,” I said, trying to drag my mind away from that mental image. “Come look at this. I’m trying to figure out if I found something.”
Declan heaved himself up from his seat and joined me at the table, where I had books and notepads spread out.
I pointed at the page. “This says that the Roman goddess Vesta did take animal skins as sacrifice, and there are several instances of that in Balthazar’s journal.”
Declan leaned closer, almost touching me, to read the passage. I could smell the freshness of his soap and the masculine musk of his pheromones. In our time together, I’d grown to find comfort in those scents. After my dream a couple nights before, it did more thancomfortme, though. While he read, I surreptitiously took a deep breath, filling my lungs with it.
“Are yousniffingme? Declan asked.
“No,” I lied, leaning back and crossing my arms, rolling my eyes for all I was worth. “What a freakingweirdthing to do, lol.” In my panic and embarrassment, Iliterallysaid the letters L, O, and L out loud like some moronic middle-schooler. I cringed so hard I thought I might collapse in on myself and become a black hole.
Mercifully, Declan said nothing more, though I did hear him chuckling to himself as he did. Heat crept into my cheeks, and I chided myself for being so dumb.
“This says she enjoys the skins of young animals,” he said, pointing to a paragraph. “I don’t recall the ledger specifying the age of the skins.”
I sighed. “I know. No way to know for sure.”
Straightening, he sat on the edge of the table, head tilted up in thought.
“Something about this is scratching an itch. This makes no sense,” he said, lifting Balthazar’s ledger and shaking it. “All these random sacrifices? Most gods like one thing and one thing only. Goats, calves, rabbits, skins, human blood, virgins?—”
“Virgins?” I gaped at him.
“Yeah. Quetzalcoatl always wanted virgins. The guy’s a real dick. Lost a hundred bucks to him in a poker game in The Shadow Streets about ten years back. Anyway, like I was saying, most deities sort of specialize in the types of sacrifices they like. Some of the more pacifist guys like vegetables and plants. There can’t be that many gods who want stuff so random. I feel like I…” he trailed off, blinking slowly, and I sat forward, excitement rushing through me.
“What? Did you think of something?” I almost reached out to touch his leg, but restrained myself.
“Maybe.” He gave a rueful chuckle. “Is that fucker even still around?”
“Who?” I wanted to reach out and shake him.
Declan rose from where he sat and paced the room, running a hand through his hair.
