Twilight Siege

18

“Actually, there is something you could do to help me.” I offered a tentative smile and he gave me a wary brow raise in response. “Could you teach me how to search for a particular artifact? How to track an item via auctions and whatnot?” I held my breath, knowing he would disapprove of my reasons for the request. He sat for some time, eyes squinted in an assessing manner as his left hand rubbed at his red goatee. “If I teach you how to do this, it would be for work purposes, would it not?” “Yes, of course.” “I would have no need to know if there was anything…extracurricular you were wanting to search for.” He tilted his head down, brow arched with implication. If he taught me how to use the museum and auction house sites, I was not to tell him anything about searching for the sword. “I’m sure I would only need the knowledge for work purposes—finding new exhibits and all.” I held his gaze for a long moment before his chin dipped down. “How about you put your things at your desk and I’ll show you a few methods.” I looked at my amazing boss and gave him a heartfelt smile. “Thank you, Fergus.” My words were just a whisper before I ducked out of his office. An hour later I had taken enough notes to write a book and was excited to try my hand at searching for the sword. Before we wrapped up the tutorial, Fergus imparted one final warning about ensuring that the sword did not find its way into the hands of the Fae. My stomach knotted in guilt at not telling him I was becoming Fae, but I bundled up the guilt and tossed it on the pile. Hopefully the ends would justify the means…eventually. I rushed back to my desk and began pulling up the sites that Fergus had demonstrated. For the next three hours I completely abandoned my museum work and searched for the sword. I sorted through hundreds of images of swords that had traded hands through auction houses and other means over the past number of years. Either the blades were not embellished or the grip was not wood or the sword was so tarnished and decayed it would not have been of use. On a whim I began to search for replica swords, thinking perhaps if the Sword of Light had been in pristine condition, it could have been confused with a modern production of an antique sword. I knew how paintings were authenticated, but I wasn’t sure how a collector would authenticate a sword, especially if that sword contained magic that kept it like new. As the clock crept toward noon, I clicked on an entry at the British Museum in London for a sword stored in the archives. My heart began to pound as I grabbed my phone and pulled up the picture Cat had taken. The rendering was identical to the sword at the museum. I took a picture of the sword and all its information before jumping up and doing a silent happy dance. The rest of the afternoon I was practically giddy in anticipation of showing Lochlan what I had found. I hunkered down to tackle the work that I had ignored all morning and before I knew it, the museum was closing and it was time to go home. Stepping outside I found my new furry protector lounging in the cool stone steps of the museum entrance. Since the dog seemed to have adopted me, I figured he needed a name. “For your bravery in the heat of battle, I hereby dub you ‘Sir Knight, the Protector,’ but that’s a mouthful so we will stick with ‘Knight’ for short.” I gave his head a rub before turning in the direction of home, knowing he wouldn’t be far behind me. He stretched out his long body and slowly ambled after me. Once we were home I changed my clothes and offered him some dog food. “Come on, you goofball dog.” I fussed at the pouting dog. “This is quality dog food, you’ll like it. Just look at the happy dog on the bag, he’s loving it.” He sat on his haunches giving me the best puppy-dog eyes a wolf can give until I finally caved. “Fine! You win.” I grimaced at the smell of the hard food and tossed the food back into the bag. “Guess I wouldn’t want to eat that stuff either.” He had steadfastly refused to take a single bite of the dog food since I had brought home the bag two days before. Instead he devoured my leftovers and had a particular affinity for sandwiches. I slapped together a peanut butter sandwich and he proceeded to down it in one bite. I figured he had saved my ass, the least I could do what feed him what he liked to eat. That evening as soon as I saw Lochlan waiting for me in the lobby I grabbed my phone and opened it to the picture of the sword. “Take a look at what I found.” I had a snarky smile on my face, and I didn’t care one bit. I had managed to locate what the mighty Hunt had not yet found and I was going to revel in that accomplishment. “Care to tell me how you knew what you were looking for?” Oh, s**t. “Um, no?” He held my eyes for a long moment in the elevator, a single brow raised in question before acquiescing with a single nod. “I’ll look into it, make sure it’s authentic.” I couldn’t help the grin that spread across my face. When we approached the door to the basement, instead of pressing his hand to the scanner, Lochlan pressed a series of buttons. “Put your hand here and hold it until the beep.” “You’re adding me to the security system?” “Just to the basement and gym, don’t get too excited.” “You were the one who wanted me to move in with you not that long ago. I would have needed access to the place if I was living here.” Not long after we had met, Lochlan had instructed me to pack a bag and move into his apartment. That had not gone over well and he hadn’t asked again, nor had I brought it up because I didn’t know how I felt on the matter. With my apartment successfully warded and the Hunt unable to determine if there were any more traitors among them, I felt safer at my place. Not to mention staying with him would be a constant reminder that I had molested him in his sleep. I had avoided all thoughts of my dream s*x with him and had no desire to discuss the incident or his offer to stay with him. “But you aren’t living here, so you don’t get access except where I decide to allow it.” “No skin off my back, I didn’t want access anyway. I’m the sword finder, remember? I don’t need your fancy building to get s**t done.” “That has yet to be verified.” “I think Watson’s a little jealous, but don’t be upset, not everyone can be Sherlock Holmes.” “I’ll try to remember that,” he said wryly, a spark of amusement in his eyes.