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Guards stood to either side of the doors. Chatter came from within, low but steady.
It stopped abruptly as I stepped inside. Every eye turned to me.
I lifted my chin and focused my gaze on the man seated at the far end of the room.
He was handsome, but in a totally different way to Bain. Where Bain was tall and solid, this man was slender and wiry. His sleeveless tunic showed muscles beneath skin a shade or two lighter than Bain's tan. While Bain might beat him in a wrestle, this man looked like he'd leave him in the dust in a footrace.
The most striking difference between the two was that this man was smiling.
"Keeper." Bain walked forward. "Viva Taylor." He said my name like a grunt. A hint of disapproval, maybe?
Too bad. I'm here now.
I smiled. "Hey."
The Keeper rose and gave me a bow. He kept his eyes on my face, apart from a flicker toward my breasts. "Viva. I'm sorry to have kept you waiting. I know you must have had a long day, but there were matters I had to attend to."
"I understand," I replied. "It's all good. I'm sure you have many more important things to do."
"Not more important than this." The Keeper moved closer, almost close enough to touch and held out his hand.
Mine trembled, but I managed to hand him the box.
"Thank you." He took the box and retreated to his chair.
The hush that filled the room when I entered hung heavily now. The anticipation was thicker than smoke.
The Keeper eased the lid open and tipped it up over his palm. A small stone dragon fell out, along with a narrow scroll.
A mutter passed through those watching.
The Keeper placed the scroll on his lap and admired the stone dragon.
"Small, but incredibly powerful," he said. "It's past time this was returned to the Vault. Our gratitude to the Witches' Council for its return."
His eyes narrowed slightly. The artefact was a point of contention between the Council and the Vault for at least a hundred years. I doubted he felt much gratitude for its return. More like, 'it's about fucking time.'
"The treaty between the Vault and the Council is finalised," the Keeper said for the benefit of everyone present. "The Witches will reinforce the power which protects the Vault. In return, shifter kind will offer what protection the witches need to keep them safe from humans."
A ripple passed through the room, some approving, others not. Apparently they'd prefer to lose the safety of the Vault than help any witches.
I lowered my eyes before anyone could tell I thought they were stupid to even think of refusing help. The hate ran deep from both sides.
I looked back up as the Keeper handed the artefact to another man and picked up the scroll.
He frowned and read aloud.
"I, Head of the Witches' Council, Denis Crane, trust you are well. This artefact and treaty should be of great benefit to the Vault. The treaty will bring peace and prosperity to all our people. I wish, however, to give a gift to show my good faith. I offer you—"
"Keeper," I interrupted. I reached inside my jeans and pulled the knife free.
The room echoed with the sound of drawing knives and extending claws, including Bain's.
From the corner of my eye I saw him step toward me, naked blade in a hand now closer to a paw.
I dropped to my knees.
With trembling hands, I placed the knife on the floor in front of me, the blade pointing toward me; the ancient sign of supplication or surrender.
