Chapter Twelve
The next day at the jewelry store, Gabriel found himself pacing the floor irritably as a gem empath named Christopher surveyed their inventory in one of the back rooms. They’d had to bribe him an enormous amount just to sneak in for the day, and he’d refused to stay beyond that. Too risky; he’d lose his license and face prison if he were caught.
Christopher’s extortionate rates weren’t the reason that he was irritable, though. It was his fiancée, who was still stubbornly pretending that she wasn’t meant to be with him.
Kelly had refused his thoroughly charming attempts at seduction the night before. It simply defied common sense. She wanted him, he wanted her, he was damn good at sex; why was she letting a silly thing like principles get in the way of a night of screaming, back-clawing pleasure?
Humans. He just didn’t understand them.
“Excuse me.” Marvin stalked up to him and gestured at the closed door where Christopher was looking over their inventory.
“You have a problem?” Gabriel snapped. He was not in the mood right now.
Marvin glared at him. “There’s an empath here. Why is he here?”
“That’s not your concern.”
“I’d say it is my concern.” Marvin’s eyes flashed with fury. “You only called him in after Kelly Henderson visited the store.”
“Yes, that’s true.”
“She’s been bad-mouthing me.”
“Why, what could she possibly have to say about you? Is there anything you forgot to tell us when you applied for work here?”
Marvin went pale.
“You’ve seen proof of my abilities,” he whined. “I’ve identified numerous power gems for you.”
“Several,” Gabriel corrected him. “You’ve identified several.”
Marvin’s tone turned wheedling. “It’s not like you can get rid of me. You need me to find you healing gems.”
Well, they needed someone for that purpose. They’d never told Marvin why they had a particular interest in healing gems, and it wasn’t his business. But they did need someone to identify any gems that might have healing powers. So far, none of them had worked, and it had turned out that the Dragonsblood’s powers did not involve healing.
And time was running out.
Which made it more crucial than ever that they found the kind of gem they were looking for. They’d almost had the right kind of gem, and then… Damn Calder. Self-righteous bastard.
“Yes, we need healing gems – and there are apparently several in the store that you’ve missed. Who knows what else you may have missed, if that’s true?” Gabriel felt anger flowing through him at the thought. Had the solution to their problem already slipped through their fingers because they’d misplaced their trust in Marvin?
Marvin gave him an offended look. “If you don’t trust me, then there’s no reason for me to continue working here. I’m handing in my resignation effective immediately.”
“So you’re quitting before the auditor gets a chance to tell us what he’s found.” Gabriel fixed Marvin with a hard, angry gaze.
Marvin turned and stalked out of the store, and let the door slam behind him.
* * * * *
Back in her room, Kelly logged on to her laptop. She was curious about Gabriel’s snide comment about the Rossi family, so she started searching for information about them. She knew that they’d owned the Dragonsblood since the early 1940s, and that her family’s firm had insured it, but she hadn’t bothered to do much research into the family themselves other than to run a criminal background check to ensure that they’d never been accused or convicted of any felonies, especially insurance scams.
A regular Google, Bing and Yahoo search turned up nothing. They didn’t have social media accounts, and they didn’t own any businesses that she could find. Not surprising; they were an obscure, independently wealthy family. Not every rich person lived their life in public like reality TV stars.
She turned to a news archive database that she had access to. To her surprise and dismay, she saw that the Rossis had collaborated with the fascists in World War II and had been accused of stealing the belongings of political prisoners. Unfortunately, the Rossis had only stolen from people whose entire families had been wiped out, so there had been no one left to reclaim their looted goods or press charges against the Rossi family after the war was over.
They’d been poor before the war, and then after the war they’d been rich – with stolen paintings, jewels, antiques and money.
Well, now she just felt gross. She was trying to get a jewel back for a bunch of slimebags – or their descendants, granted, but still. They were living off looted and pillaged wealth that should never have been theirs.Treasured family heirloom, my ass, she thought. It had beensomebody’streasured family heirloom, and now they were dead.
