I send my purse through on the conveyor belt and walk through the metal detector, sandwiched between three of my six bodyguards. The remaining three follow me.
“Have a seat on the bench, right there,” the young woman behind the counter tells us. “Director Houserman will be right with you.”
I take a seat and look around. Several groups of young elementary school children move through the exhibits in twittering clumps. A bunch of high school students jostle and tease each other. Adult museum-goers meander through the exhibits, stopping to peer into the glass cases containing specimens of crystals and gemstones.
The energy of all the crystals and minerals in the building emits a frequency that makes my head feel like it’s about to explode.
Pressure grows behind my eyes. I hope the energy doesn’t bring on a vision.
A short, stout man wearing eyeglasses and dressed in a sweater vest and tie emerges from an office behind the desk. “Ms. Adalwulf?”
Otto steps forward like he’s going to take charge of the conversation, but I ignore him, standing to offer my hand. “Yes.” I am the Adalwulf Seeress, advisor to the alpha. I’m no longer just the acolyte they keep locked in a tower.
I sense Otto’s surprise. For years, I’ve played ghost, trying to remain invisible. Now I’m pulling out alpha she-wolf energy. Somehow, the growing pain around my eye sockets cuts out the noise of second-guessing myself.
The director also ignores Otto.
Otto follows my lead. He won’t slight me in front of the director–not when I’ve been sent here as the emissary of the Adalwulf family. Appearances are everything to Aiden, and diminishing his authority as bestowed through me in this situation would infuriate him.
Still, I do not doubt that the moment we’re out of this situation, Otto will assume an alpha role over me again.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you. I understand Mr. Adalwulf has arranged with the owner of the Tiara of Ix-Chel for you to have a private viewing while it’s on loan here. I do hope if you decide to purchase it, you’ll allow us to remain the custodian through this season, so it can be enjoyed by New York?”
Otto stiffens, about to take charge again. Oma taught me never to stammer an answer out when surprised by a question. I use her technique of turning the focus back on him and repeating his words. “You’d like the moonstone to remain here at the museum for the remainder of the season.”
I sense Otto settle back, clasping his hands in front of him, bodyguard style. He’s content to let me handle the business negotiations, at least for the moment.
The director colors a bit. Now he’s the one stammering. “Well, yes, we only just received it this week, and we’ve been advertising its arrival for months. It would be a terrible shame to let down all the people of New York who were so excited to see the precious artifact that only recently resurfaced in the world.”
I understand his desire to keep the tiara on display as an important historical piece. He doesn’t understand that it probably also contains great power.
I keep my tone regal. “I see. Well, I’m sure the seller can compensate you for your sunk advertising costs. But we’re getting ahead of ourselves. I’m not even sure yet whether we’re interested. May I inspect it?”
“Yes, yes of course. Right this way.” Dr. Houserman extends an arm to usher me into the large open atrium of the museum.
I follow, pretending the excruciating pain building behind my left eye isn’t there. The pressure in my head is growing almost too fast for me to manage. Yellow and red horizontal lines squiggle in front of my vision as I walk, making every step in the Louboutin heels feel precarious.
“We’ll take the private elevator.” Dr. Houserman uses a keycard to open the doors to a small elevator marked “Employees Only.” I step in first, followed by Otto, who holds the door for Dr. Houserman. It’s so tiny, there isn’t room for the bodyguards.
“What floor?” Otto asks in a brisk, military clip.
“Ninth.” Dr. Houserman steps into the elevator and pushes the button.
Otto tips his head toward the stairs, and his men instantly pivot and charge up them.
The elevator doors close, insulating me a bit from the energy of all the crystals. I take a breath, my vision clearing.
Dr. Houserman gives us each a nervous glance. “They won’t be allowed in the viewing room.”
He’s worried we’re here to steal the tiara.
I have to play this down, or he won’t let me in at all, and Aiden will have a fit. “Not a problem,” I say smoothly. “The guards are out of an abundance of caution. We've had some death threats to the family recently, so my cousin’s extremely protective of me.”
“Your cousin?”
“Aiden.”
“Oh, I thought he was your husband.”
