Page 4

Leona started to shiver. She could not blame a drop in the ambient temperature, because that never changed in the Underworld. It took her a moment to realize she was coming off an adrenaline jag. Breathe.

She looked down at the bloodstains on her dress and then yanked her attention away from the disturbing sight. She longed for a hot shower and a change of clothes. Like that’s going to change what happened. Breathe .

She forced herself to focus.

“I wonder who she was and why she was murdered,” she said.

Oliver slowed for another sharp corner. “The FBPI will find her body. When they do, they’ll identify her and launch an investigation.”

“She was a member of one of those weird Vincent Lee Vance return cults.”

Oliver glanced at her. “Are you sure?”

“She was wearing a necklace with a metal disc inscribed with ‘ Vincent Lee Vance Will Return.’ There was a small crystal set in the pendant. It looked like an exact replica of the pendants Vance distributed to his followers.”

“They say no one ever went broke running a cult. There have always been idiots who buy into the old conspiracy theory about Vance not dying in the tunnels. They’re convinced he was frozen with some sort of mysterious Alien cryogenic technology and that one day he’ll return to lead another revolution.”

“I know. It’s hard to kill off a conspiracy theory.” Leona hesitated. “The crystal in that cult pendant was hot, Oliver.”

He frowned. “Tuned?”

“And locked. I didn’t get a chance to examine it, but I can tell you it was not some cheap knockoff of the old Vance pendants. It was sophisticated work. Whoever did it is serious about firing up another Vance return cult.”

“Think the tuning was the kind of identification or signature vibe that people use to indicate they belong to certain clubs or organizations?”

She thought about that for a moment. “I don’t know. Maybe. I’m good with psi-locks but I’m not a crystal tuner. That’s my sister’s area of expertise.”

“Don’t worry, the FBPI will be able to crack the code. Once they do, they’ll have a lead on whoever gave the pendant to the dead woman. With luck, that will provide a clue to the identity of the killer.”

“Maybe, assuming she was murdered because of her connection to a cult.”

“Even if there wasn’t one, her associates will know something about her that will provide a lead. Someone always knows something.”

Cheered by that thought, she tried to push the searing memory of the dead woman aside. Just another scene to add to her nightmares. Oliver was right. There was nothing more she could do. The murder investigation was in the hands of the Bureau.

She rezzed her senses a little to pick up the invigorating buzz of the tunnels and once again became aware of the faint trickle of energy seeping out of Oliver’s pack.

She looked at him. “Why did you help me escape the raid tonight?”

He was unfazed by the question. “Maybe I’m a nice guy?”

“It’s a possibility,” she allowed. “But there is another one.”

“Such as?”

“You knew I was going to authenticate the submissions tonight. Maybe you decided to use me as an unpaid antiquities consultant to verify the authenticity of the box before you took the risk of stealing it. Later you felt obligated to get me away from the raid.”

“That would have been a sharp move on my part. But as it happens, I didn’t need your expert opinion. I knew the box was authentic.”

“I see.” She realized she believed him. He would not have left the question of the authenticity of the box to chance, not when he had planned out so many other details of what he was pleased to call a repo job.

“Are you always this suspicious?” Oliver asked. He sounded intrigued, not wary or offended. Just curious.

Her jaw tightened. “It wouldn’t be the first time someone has used me to get what they wanted.”

“I sense bitterness.”

“The incident happened quite recently, so yes, I’m still pissed. Enough about me. You said you’re going to return the box to its rightful owner, a private museum. That means it will once again disappear into a vault, perhaps never to be seen again by the public or academics who would give a great deal to examine it.”

“The private museum is maintained by a foundation that has a long history of paranormal research. Qualified members of the staff are free to examine the collection.”

“What about qualified outsiders?”

“Like you?”

“Yes.”

“Sometimes. Under strict supervision.”

“I know how to handle artifacts like this one,” she said.

“You do realize there may be a reason it’s called Pandora’s box?”

“The story of Pandora’s box is just an ancient Old World myth. Our artifact is definitely human engineered.”

“ Our artifact?”

She flushed. “You know what I meant.”

“Why didn’t you open it tonight when you were onstage?”

“Because I was furious at the Society for imprisoning the dust bunnies and annoyed by that gallery full of illegally acquired artifacts. I had done what I was sent there to do. I had authenticated the artifacts. I saw no reason to unlock the box for the Society.”

Oliver nodded. “I thought that might be it. Understandable. Think you can unlock the box?”

“No problem. It’s pretty sophisticated, but nothing I can’t handle.”

Oliver looked at her. She knew he was remembering how she had dealt with the quartz-tech security in the Society’s lab. She got the feeling he was making a calculated decision.

“Okay, after what you’ve been through tonight, you deserve a look inside the box,” he said. “Go ahead, open it.”

She did not hesitate. Twisting around, she plucked the pack off the rear bench. The dust bunny chortled and bounced a little. She took that as encouragement.

She unzipped the pack and removed the artifact. Now that she had physical contact with the relic, she was much more aware of the energy whispering from it. She could not wait to examine the contents.

“Do you know what’s inside?” she asked.

“There should be six human-engineered crystals in the box. All Old World tech.”

“What were they created to do?”

“That’s a more complicated story.”

“Translation, you’re not going to tell me.”

“Open the box, Leona.”

She got a ping that sent a flicker of awareness across her senses. He was telling her the truth, she decided, but there was something missing. She needed context. One thing was certain: whatever else was going on here, this was much more than a simple repo job. The box was important to him. This was personal.

A thousand questions sprang to mind but she decided to go with the subtle approach. “What, exactly, is this foundation you mentioned?”

“Let’s discuss that some other time. It’s not important tonight. Open the box.”

So much for subtlety. It was not her strongest suit.

“You don’t think I can open it, do you?”

“Do it.”

She rezzed her senses, feeling her way into the psi-code. The lock had been installed by someone who had a real talent for the work. It should have been resistant to all but a high-tech quartz lock pick, one capable of jamming the paranormal frequencies. But she had a very high-rez talent.

She concentrated. It was a more complex lock than the one that had secured the Society’s lab, but the basic principles of picking a psi-lock did not vary. Step one, locate the anchor frequency. Step two, flatline it.

There was no satisfying click or snick or snap when she neutralized the currents of the anchor, but the lid of the box popped open.

“You are very, very good,” Oliver said softly.

There was sincere respect in the words, she realized. His professional admiration warmed her for some reason.

She looked down at the contents of the box—and almost stopped breathing.

As Oliver had predicted, there were six lab-grown crystals inside. Each was round—a couple of inches in diameter—and faceted. Each stone rested in a velvet-lined pocket. They were arranged in two rows.

The crystals were all highly polished and charged with heavily locked power. She knew intuitively it would not be easy to release the energy in the objects.

But as intriguing as the six crystals were, they were not what made her catch her breath. A fresh jolt of adrenaline flooded her veins and briefly sent her senses spinning into stunned chaos.

Oliver glanced into the box and frowned. “There’s a seventh crystal?”

Leona pulled her scattered senses together. She could not allow him to see just how shaken she was. Priorities. “Yes. I gather you were not anticipating that.”

“No.” Oliver went back to his driving. “I wasn’t. This is…interesting.”

“Yes, it is,” Leona said faintly.

The seventh stone looked out of place in the box. It was palm-sized and cut in the shape of a pyramid. There was no special pocket for it. Instead, it sat alone between the two rows of round crystals as if someone had tucked it inside for safekeeping because there was no other place to put it. Or maybe no other place to conceal it.

She could sense the power in the pyramid but it was secured with an unusually elaborate psi-code. Given time, she could flatline the lock, but that was not what fascinated her. What mattered was that she could feel a faint whisper of energy from the yellow crystal she wore beneath the bodice of her evening gown. The pendant was resonating with the pyramid.

She had no clue what that might mean, but one thing was crystal clear—the pyramid was a direct link to the Griffin Family Secret, the dangerous secret that she and Molly and their parents had vowed to conceal.

This changed everything. She could not let the crystal pyramid vanish back into the vault of a mysterious private museum.