“Serial number 87206.”
Charley scanned through the master list of the artwork. “It’s not here. There must be another file somewhere. Try searching for the number directly on the computer. I’ll see if I can track down the bidder names.”
“Is that typical?” Dorian asked. “Two payments for the same piece?”
“Not at all.” Charley reached for the second laptop, paging through the files. “Bids are one thing, but deposits and transfers mean a sale is pending. Estas and Rudy are either gettingverysloppy, or they’re planning a double-cross.”
“Or both,” Aiden said.
“Found it.” Charley scanned through yet another list—names connected with banking details and wire transfer amounts—twenty million each. “And the lucky buyers are… Alexei Rogozin and Nikolai Chernikov.”
“You’vegotto be joking,” Dorian said, leaning in for a closer look. “Estas works for Rogozin. He’s playing his own boss against their top demonic rival?”
“I got bad news and worse news,” Cole said, tapping the screen on the other laptop. “Bad news is—that’s exactly what he’s doing. From some of the correspondence here, it looks like Estas and Rudy were banking on 87206 to bring in a lot of early bids from the supernatural community. They’d planned to auction it off before the robbery, but then two buyers elbowed their way to the top.”
“Rogozin and Chernikov,” Charley said.
“Yep. But here’s the kick in the ass,” Cole said. “Neither of them know the other guy’s in the mix. Estas and Rudy promised 87206 tobothbuyers, demanding full payment in advance. Well, they got it. Now the demons are cranking up the heat, getting desperate for a confirmation that the artwork has been secured. No wonder your uncle’s all twisted up, Charles. The demons want itbad, and Rudy and Estas aren’t even sure it’s here. It wasn’t on your list.”
“That’s thebadnews?” Dorian sighed. “What’s the worse news?”
“87206?” Cole reached into his pocket for his whiskey, then dumped a healthy dose into his coffee mug. “It’s the Mother.”
“The mother?” Charley asked. “Is that… Oh,no.” She dropped her head into her hands as the realization finally dawned. “You’re talking about the Mother of Lost Souls.”
“Bingo,” Cole said. “You know her?”
“The night Rudy and Silas nabbed me in the alley, they asked me about it.Shit—I completely forgot. Rudy got all stressed out when I said I hadn’t seen it.”
“Is it any wonder?” Dorian asked. “They’ve already sold it to two different buyers. One of whom has been pressuring me for the same damn statue for months.”
“Chernikov?” she asked.
“The same.” Dorian slammed the laptop shut. “He’s been stringing me along this entire time, promising to deliver intel on Rogozin in exchange for this dreadful sculpture, knowing damn well Rudy was planning to steal it from me anyway.”
“Hedging his bets,” Aiden said. “Can’t exactly blame him. Augustus promised it to him more than two centuries ago, and it never materialized.”
“Guys. What’s the deal with this Mother of Lost Souls piece?” Charley asked. “What’s so special about it that two powerful demons are willing to fork over twenty million bucks for it, sight unseen?”
The three of them exchanged a loaded glance.
Charley was more confused than ever. “Do you evenhaveit? I never saw it here.”
“Be glad for that,” Aiden said with a grimace. “The Mother has a face—”
“Don’t say it,” Dorian warned.
“—only a mother could love,” Aiden finished anyway.
“Seriously?”
“It was the perfect setup, Dori. Admit it.”
“I’ll admit nothing.” Dorian rose from his chair and held out a hand to Charley. “Fancy a walkabout, love? I think it’s time we give you the rest of the tour.”
Chapter Thirteen
“Everything about this place belongs in a movie.” Charlotte grinned, her eyes wide as she stepped out of the elevator. “Crypts. Actual, legitimate crypts. Honestly, Dorian. Next you’re going to tell me you all sleep in coffins when I’m not around.”
