Page 23

“Yes. He and I were on a date. He offered to drive me here and since he already had permission to see the reliquary, I didn't think it would be an issue if he came up with me.”

“You and Tristan Bane, eh?”

“Yes, we got to talking when he visited.”

“Good for you. He's a looker and wealthy too.” She grinned, but when her gaze went to the furnace, her grin vanished. “You could have been killed. I heard Mr. Bane covered you with his body.” Her grin returned.

“Now how did Curtis know that? I thought I was already standing when he got to the lab.”

“He checked the monitor when he heard the boom and saw Tristan huddled over you.”

“Oh. Well, yes, he did that.”

“How gallant. And romantic. I've met Mr. Bane, and I'd give a kidney to be saved by him.”

“He is a good looking man, but I was a little too scared at the time to enjoy myself.”

“Oh! Yes, of course. That was insensitive. I'm sorry. Do you want to take the day off?”

“No, thank you. I'm fine.” I cleared my throat. “Uh, I'll just fill out the incident report. Curtis said he'd be sending it to me.”

“Yes, of course.” She picked up the furnace. “I need this for the investigation.”

“Investigation?” I squeaked.

“Oh, it's nothing. Standard procedure after something like this. They'll want to see the furnace themselves to confirm.” She looked down. “I'd say it's evident that this was faulty.”

“Thank you. Uh, then I'll do the report and get to work.”

“I hope your day is better than your night was.”

“Thanks.”

Moments after I sent the report in, I checked on the silver piece and got to work on the reliquary. It was Sabrina's day off, so it was the perfect time to fill in the hole. I did note the divot in my notes, leaving out what I'd found in it, but I didn't want to deal with Sabrina's questions.

I couldn't use silver to fill the hole since my furnace was gone, so I went with a conservation grade resin. After filling the divot left by Heartbreak itself, I left it to cure as I prepared a small gold sheet. Once the resin cured, I spread a thin layer of vegetable glue over it and applied the metal sheet, cut to match the damaged area. A little light pounding sealed it to the silver. With the edges of the new foil pressed into the gold wire edges of the cloisonne, the repair was virtually undetectable.

As I sat back, I noticed the group of people who'd been watching me work. I smiled and moved the reliquary so they could see it better. When they bent to look closer, I saw a tall man standing near the wall behind them. He was fair-skinned to the point of pallidness, with dark blond hair combed back, and his gaze locked with mine. The people straightened and cut off my view. They nodded and moved away while I waved absently.

He was still there. Still staring. And it sent a chill down my back. Was he Osric Taylor? I decided to confront him, but before I could move, he lowered his gaze to the reliquary, smiled, and walked away.

Spooked, I packed up the reliquary, locked it in the cabinet, and left early. I drove straight to Georgetown with my hands tight on the wheel and my thoughts spinning. The house glowed warm and gold behind its iron gate when I arrived, lamplight spilling through the front windows, utterly at odds with the cold fear sitting in my chest.

I picked up the phone to call him, but before I could dial, the gate opened. Tristan came out the front door as I pulled in, his expression pleased. It changed when he saw my face. He hurried over to me as I climbed out of the car.

“What happened?” He took my hand and led me inside.

“Someone was watching me today. I know it sounds stupid, but he was staring at me strangely. He looked at the reliquary and left. They were pointed looks. I think it was Osric Taylor.” I sighed. “It sounds silly.”

“No, it doesn't.” He shut the door and locked it. “Let's go downstairs.”

Tristan took my hand and led me down to his bat cave. I went to the couch as he shut the massive door. The TV was on, but he turned it off before he sat down beside me. I don't know why, but the thought of him sitting there, in his vault, watching sitcoms amused me, and I made a soft, almost hysterical sound.

“Destiny?” He sat down facing me and rubbed my upper arms. “Tell me everything.”

“He was standing against the wall. Pale, dark blond hair. Tall. Well-dressed. He stared at me like he was waiting for something. Then he looked at the reliquary.” I shivered. “Not the way you looked at it. This was different. Calculating.”

Tristan's jaw tightened. “Did he approach you?”