Bloodfever
Page 30
The bids were mind-boggling. A woman paid twenty-four million dollars for a painting the size of my hand. Another woman bought a brooch the size of a walnut for three point two million. The famous man bought the Klimt for eighty-nine million. There were jewels that had once belonged to queens, weapons owned by some of historys most notorious villains, even an Italian estate on the block, complete with a private jet and classic car collection.
Barrons acquired two ancient weapons and a journal written by a Grand Master of a secret society. I sat on my hands to keep myself from fidgeting and waited in breathless anticipation, as each treasure was unveiled, taking great pains not to move my head, which is considerably more difficult than it sounds. The urge to flip a curl of hair from my face that had escaped my sleek do became nearly debilitating. Until now Id had no idea how frequently my body betrayed my thoughts until I repeatedly caught myself on the verge of shrugging, shaking, or nodding my head. It was no wonder Barrons read me so easily. It was not a comfortable night, but it was an unforgettable one. When the OOP was finally uncovered, I had no idea what it was, but Barrons knewand he wanted it badly. Ive learned to read him, too.
It was a jeweled amulet the approximate size of my fistI have small handsfashioned of gold, silver, sapphires, and onyx, and according to the information sheet, several unidentifiable alloys and equally mysterious gems. The amulets lavish gilt casing housed an enormous translucent stone of unknown composition, and was suspended on a long, thick chain. It had a colorful history, dating farther back than it possibly could according to what we understood of Homo sapiens development, and had been crafted for the coveted concubine of a mythical king known as Cruz.
Each auction participant was given a folder, detailing the items provenance, a chain of custody that had my eyes popping out of my head when I read it over Barrons shoulder. Every owner of the amulet down through time figured prominently in history or mythologyeven I whod slept through most of my history classes recognized them. Some had been heroically good, others epically bad. All had been immensely powerful.
The auctioneers eyes twinkled as he spoke of the amulet and its mystical ability to grant its owners deepest desires.
Is it good health you seek? he asked the wheezing, wheelchair bound man softly. Longevity? One of its owners, incidentally a Welshman like yourself, sir, was reputed to have lived for hundreds of years.
Perhaps you have political aspirations, he offered the famous man. Would you like to guide your great nation? How about greater wealth?
Could he get any wealthier? I wondered. If I were him, Id go for better hair.
Perhaps you seek a return of sexual desire and desirability? he crooned to the faded beauty with bitter grooves bracketing her mouth andsmoldering embers for eyes. Your husband back? His new young wifeshall we sayreceiving her comeuppance?
Perhaps, he teased a man in the fourth row wearing the most haunted, hunted expression Id ever seen, youd like to vanquish all your enemies.
Bidding exploded.
The entire time Barrons sat motionless, staring straight ahead. I, on the other hand, rubbernecked shamelessly. My heart was pounding, and I didnt even have anything vested in the situation.
I kept waiting for Barrons to bid and grew increasingly alarmed when he didnt. Cruz was obviously Cruce, the legendary creator of the Cuff Vlane had offered me. It was a Fae relic, unbelievably powerful, and even if we werent going to use it ourselves, it shouldnt be out there in the world. It was an OOP. Every sidhe-seer instinct in me wanted it withdrawn from the world of Man where it never should have been in the first place and in the wrong hands was capable of aiding great evil, as evidenced by a German dictator whod once owned it.
I leaned into him and pressed my mouth to his ear. Say something, I hissed. Bid!
He closed his hand around mine and squeezed. Bone ground gently upon bone. I shut up.
The bids reached astronomical proportions. There was no way Barrons had that kind of money.
I couldnt believe we were just going to let it go.
The bidding narrowed down to five fervent contenders. Then two: the famous man and the dying one. When the bidding reached eight figures, the famous man laughed and let it go. I already have everything I want, he said, and I was pleasantly surprised to see he actually meant it. In a room of malcontent, covetous people, he genuinely was happy with his Klimt, and his life overall. He rose considerably in my estimation. I decided I liked his hair and admired that he didnt care what anyone else thought of it. Good for him.
An hour later, the auction was over. A few hours after that, via a private planeyou can hardly transport illegal goods on a public onewe were standing outside the bookstore, shortly before dawn. Exhausted, Id slept through the flight, waking only when wed landed, to find my mouth slightly ajar on a soft snore and Barrons watching me with amusement.
I was pissed that hed let the OOP go. I wanted to know the extent of the power it conferred. I wanted to know if it could have protected me even better than the Cuff Vlane was offering.
Why didnt you at least bid on it? I asked crossly, as he unlocked the front door.
He followed me inside. I purchase what I must to maintain a faade, to continue receiving invitations. Any acquisition made at such an auction is observed and recorded. I dont like other people knowing what I have. I never buy the things I want.
Barrons acquired two ancient weapons and a journal written by a Grand Master of a secret society. I sat on my hands to keep myself from fidgeting and waited in breathless anticipation, as each treasure was unveiled, taking great pains not to move my head, which is considerably more difficult than it sounds. The urge to flip a curl of hair from my face that had escaped my sleek do became nearly debilitating. Until now Id had no idea how frequently my body betrayed my thoughts until I repeatedly caught myself on the verge of shrugging, shaking, or nodding my head. It was no wonder Barrons read me so easily. It was not a comfortable night, but it was an unforgettable one. When the OOP was finally uncovered, I had no idea what it was, but Barrons knewand he wanted it badly. Ive learned to read him, too.
It was a jeweled amulet the approximate size of my fistI have small handsfashioned of gold, silver, sapphires, and onyx, and according to the information sheet, several unidentifiable alloys and equally mysterious gems. The amulets lavish gilt casing housed an enormous translucent stone of unknown composition, and was suspended on a long, thick chain. It had a colorful history, dating farther back than it possibly could according to what we understood of Homo sapiens development, and had been crafted for the coveted concubine of a mythical king known as Cruz.
Each auction participant was given a folder, detailing the items provenance, a chain of custody that had my eyes popping out of my head when I read it over Barrons shoulder. Every owner of the amulet down through time figured prominently in history or mythologyeven I whod slept through most of my history classes recognized them. Some had been heroically good, others epically bad. All had been immensely powerful.
The auctioneers eyes twinkled as he spoke of the amulet and its mystical ability to grant its owners deepest desires.
Is it good health you seek? he asked the wheezing, wheelchair bound man softly. Longevity? One of its owners, incidentally a Welshman like yourself, sir, was reputed to have lived for hundreds of years.
Perhaps you have political aspirations, he offered the famous man. Would you like to guide your great nation? How about greater wealth?
Could he get any wealthier? I wondered. If I were him, Id go for better hair.
Perhaps you seek a return of sexual desire and desirability? he crooned to the faded beauty with bitter grooves bracketing her mouth andsmoldering embers for eyes. Your husband back? His new young wifeshall we sayreceiving her comeuppance?
Perhaps, he teased a man in the fourth row wearing the most haunted, hunted expression Id ever seen, youd like to vanquish all your enemies.
Bidding exploded.
The entire time Barrons sat motionless, staring straight ahead. I, on the other hand, rubbernecked shamelessly. My heart was pounding, and I didnt even have anything vested in the situation.
I kept waiting for Barrons to bid and grew increasingly alarmed when he didnt. Cruz was obviously Cruce, the legendary creator of the Cuff Vlane had offered me. It was a Fae relic, unbelievably powerful, and even if we werent going to use it ourselves, it shouldnt be out there in the world. It was an OOP. Every sidhe-seer instinct in me wanted it withdrawn from the world of Man where it never should have been in the first place and in the wrong hands was capable of aiding great evil, as evidenced by a German dictator whod once owned it.
I leaned into him and pressed my mouth to his ear. Say something, I hissed. Bid!
He closed his hand around mine and squeezed. Bone ground gently upon bone. I shut up.
The bids reached astronomical proportions. There was no way Barrons had that kind of money.
I couldnt believe we were just going to let it go.
The bidding narrowed down to five fervent contenders. Then two: the famous man and the dying one. When the bidding reached eight figures, the famous man laughed and let it go. I already have everything I want, he said, and I was pleasantly surprised to see he actually meant it. In a room of malcontent, covetous people, he genuinely was happy with his Klimt, and his life overall. He rose considerably in my estimation. I decided I liked his hair and admired that he didnt care what anyone else thought of it. Good for him.
An hour later, the auction was over. A few hours after that, via a private planeyou can hardly transport illegal goods on a public onewe were standing outside the bookstore, shortly before dawn. Exhausted, Id slept through the flight, waking only when wed landed, to find my mouth slightly ajar on a soft snore and Barrons watching me with amusement.
I was pissed that hed let the OOP go. I wanted to know the extent of the power it conferred. I wanted to know if it could have protected me even better than the Cuff Vlane was offering.
Why didnt you at least bid on it? I asked crossly, as he unlocked the front door.
He followed me inside. I purchase what I must to maintain a faade, to continue receiving invitations. Any acquisition made at such an auction is observed and recorded. I dont like other people knowing what I have. I never buy the things I want.
