Ezra snorted in disbelief, shrugging when she turned offended eyes on him. “You’ve worked with the man before, presumably for years, and you have to know what he’s like. So yes, you did. You didn’t want to confront your suspicions, or Simmons.”
Ezra didn’t wait for her reply, walking out of the command tent and heading for the hospital tent. The entire camp was lit up, the sun behind the clouds of the storm, and the lightning in the distance was a rich blue, a deep cobalt that was as beautiful as it was terrifying.
Dr. Baines was hovering beside Monica’s bed when Ezra strode inside, and she hurried over to him. “What’s going on?”
“Dr. Simmons ran away. He’s responsible for the artifact being unaccounted for. Sorry, I need to talk to Monica, is she awake?”
“She’s dozing, but she can probably talk to you for a brief moment.” Dr. Baines said, “Just be gentle. She’s lightly sedated to help her with the pain from the blast to her aura.”
“Super quick,” Ezra said, ducking around the medical wizard and jogging to the bed. Monica was awake—she tried to sit up, but he stopped her with a hand on her shoulder and sat quicklyon the stool still beside her bed, pulling back his hand. “Hey, stay lying down. Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure,” Monica’s voice was weak, but not as bad as it was the day before. “I want to help.”
Ezra smiled at her. “Thanks. What’s the last thing you remember before waking up here?”
Monica frowned, picking at the blanket. He let her think about it, taking her time. After a long moment, she frowned harder and shook her head. “It’s all jumbled. I remember Brendan and I got in an argument, and I went with Dr. Simmons. Digging for something. Brendan came and hung out and then there was an old chest, and Dr. Simmons ordered me to open it…”
Simmons ordered her to open it. He had to know what was in there, or at least suspect. Ezra was a history major, but even he knew that opening the chest presumably holding the skull was against dig procedures and not how a site should be run. Simmons was responsible for every death, in his opinion.
Her hands shook, and she clutched hard at the blanket to make them stop. “I see the skull every time I close my eyes.”
“It’s a powerful artifact,” Ezra said quietly. “And it killed a lot of people. It’s gonna haunt you for a while.”
Dr. Baines made a sound of complaint from behind him, but Monica gave him a shaky smile. “Everyone keeps saying things are gonna be okay, like I didn’t just lose everyone I cared about. Dr. Simmons came in earlier and he said…” Monica started crying. “He said Brendan was dead, along with everyone else…”
“Was Brendan your friend?”
“Boyfriend,” Monica said with a thin whimper. “I convinced him to come on this expedition. He hated camping. But he was an art major and the credit he’d get drawing the site and the stuff we found was going toward his degree, so it made sense…” She trailed off, crying silently.
“Does Simmons have any magic?” Ezra asked, abruptly enough that he startled Monica out of her grief. She wiped her eyes, shaking her head.
“No, he’s a mundy. No magic.”
Mundy was short for mundane, a human without the ability to manipulate magical energies or fashion spells. They could still activate charms and used bespelled items if those items were created for a specific use, like locking charms and pest repellents, simple things.
“Did he have a favorite bag or backpack? A duffle or messenger bag, something he took with him on expeditions all the time to sites or traveling?”
“He uses the same old blue tarp tote that’s got shoulder straps on it. I think it was meant for picnics or outdoor parties, but he used it for his dig site tools. It was padded and insulated. He takes it everywhere on expeditions.”
“Thanks,” Ezra said, getting up. “I’m sorry about Brendan.”
Monica just gave him a weak, lopsided smile and curled on her side away from him, pulling the blanket up to her ear. Ezra left, feeling Dr. Baines’s intense gaze follow him out the tent.
CHAPTER FOUR
EZRA
Ezra stalled in the center of the camp, wondering how he was going to find Simmons’s tent, when he saw the sexy MERS officer jogging by—the big dude from the shower tent. Ezra bolted out in front of him, almost falling on his ass, but the big guy reacted quickly and caught him by the arms, picking him up and then making sure to set him gently on his feet.
“Hey! Hi! Shit, sorry,” Ezra rambled. The big guy lifted a single brow and waited. “Hello again. Can you show me where Dr. Simmons’ tent is please?”
“He’s not there, we checked already,” the big guy replied. The name tag on his chest said Brown.
“Oh, I bet he’s already lost in the forest waiting to be rescued or running as far from here as he can get. I still need to see inside his tent, please. Can you show me the way?” Ezra tried his best smile, and Brown rolled his eyes at him but gestured for Ezra to follow.
“Sure, this way. Don’t get in the way; Major Grendel has us tearing it apart looking for clues.”
“I won’t, I just need to see the contents really quick, promise.”
