“You say that with such surprise, when you know it’s not the first time. No, he just wanted to piss me off. He succeeded.”
“Let me take care of it.”
“It’s an abrasion. I’ve already cleaned it.”
“I thought you liked it when women fussed over you?”
“Certainly, it is a pleasure one mustn’t refuse. But I suggest we hold this conversation elsewhere.”
She followed his gesture. A small camera LED blinked in the corner, above the curtain rod. Not something she had put there.
“There’s one in the hallway, too. To judge from your surprise, I assume that’s not your security system?”
“What security system?” Ravenscroft must have planted it. He had said something about not needing to be near her to track her. And that Roux had noticed it immediately and she had not annoyed her. “I need to have a conversation with my landlord. He’ll obviously let anyone into the building.”
Annja summoned up the sword and used it to pop the camera out from the wall. She let it drop to the floor, which didn’t break the hard black plastic shell. A stomp of her foot put the LED to rest.
“Come on.” She propped the blade against a shoulder, picked up her backpack and wearily gestured toward the door. “I’ll sweep the hallway and stairwell on the way down.”
They shuffled down the stairs and headed to the sidewalk. Annja gestured they walk north. She surveyed the building soffet but didn’t spot other cameras.
Technology sucked when it was used against her. What did Ben think to gain by spying on her? He’d thought to have the upper hand in locating the skull, so why bother with her anymore?
He’d also mentioned Maxfield Wisdom. Not good. She should contact him, and soon, but there was little she could offer him without the skull in hand.
“So to what do I owe the pleasure? If you came from Garin’s place, then you must know he has the skull.”
“He did.”
“Did?” Roux’s pale blue eyes glinted marvelously. “So he wasn’t lying! You’ve got it now?”
“Indeed, I do.”
“So what now?” she asked as Roux matched her brisk pace. “You have plans to rule the world?”
“Not interested in that job. Could you imagine? It would tax a man something terrible. The pay would be horrendous. No days off, either, I’d wager.”
Good old Roux. And yet, if he held the skull she wasn’t going to fall for any sweet-talking diversions.
Like she had for Garin’s flirtations?
“It’s yours,” he said as they waited at a street corner for a green light. Snow fell like pillow down, melting on the black leather shoulders of Roux’s coat.
“I know in your hands, Annja, the abominable thing will find a proper resting place. Believe it or not, there are some valued treasures in this world I’d rather not obtain. But if I hand it over to you, I must be guaranteed it will be disposed of properly. Do you have any idea what you’ll do with it?”
“I’ve located the skull’s owner. It will be returned to him.”
“I’d prefer the bottom of the ocean, but I suppose I’ve no choice in this matter, right?”
“You do until you hand it over. But you know, Garin said the same thing about wanting to get rid of it. I didn’t much believe him, either.”
“He was lying.”
“And you’re not?”
“Cross my heart. Garin wants to sell it.”
“I know that now. I believe his buyer was the one who planted the camera in my loft.”
“And here I thought you were suddenly into kink.”
Annja dropped her jaw and gave him a soft punch. “Watch it, old man. I have a sword and I know how to use it.”
“Sorry, couldn’t resist the humor.”
“No offense taken. I know between the two of us, if there’s any pornographic footage out there it’s not going to feature me.”
And yet that awful doctored picture of her was currently flashed for all to see online.
Don’t throw stones, Annja. Because someone will toss one back, she reminded herself.
“Where is it?”
“In my car. Which is parked the opposite direction we are walking.”
Annja stopped in the middle of the intersection. People brushed past them, swearing and muttering about how rude they were. “Why didn’t you say something?”
“I thought you were the one with the plan.” He spread out his arms and smiled, which reached his blue eyes with a glint. “Lunch?”
The light changed and cars honked. Annja strode back the way they had come. Roux followed cooperatively.
“I’m not hungry. Yes, I am. I don’t know. I’m getting very tired of this ‘who’s got the skull’ game. It’s like a round of hot potato, and I never did like that game. I mean, why a potato? And why were we supposed to imagine it hot? And if you don’t have it in hand, then I don’t trust that means you’ll keep it in hand. Let’s make sure the thing is where you say it is, then we’ll talk food.”
Roux flipped open his cell phone and punched one number. He spoke to his driver and then to Annja. “Wait here. It’ll be a minute.”
When the limo pulled up, Roux said, “It’s in the trunk.”
“Let’s take a look.”
“We’re blocking traffic.”
“I don’t care. Driver, pop the trunk.”
Amidst a stream of honking, swerving cars, Annja went around and peeked inside the trunk. Wrapped within a blue silk shirt she suspected cost more than her monthly rent, she found the skull.
Parting the silk and drawing it out, she examined it. For all the exchange of hands it had made the past few days, it was still in good shape. The gold sutures were tight and it didn’t appear as if the bone had been chipped.
She tapped the forehead. Giver of all good things?
“Wonder why it doesn’t do anything biblical for me, like part that damned canal the other night after I’d fallen into it? Isn’t it supposed to do good things for the holder?”
“So I’ve been told.” Roux peered over her shoulder.
His presence blocked the feeble November sunlight. Was it so wrong to think of him as a father figure? A very frustrating, backstabbing, opportunistic father—but still.
“You didn’t give it a try? See if it works?” she wondered.
“No interest. At least, not in this century.”
“Garin told me about Granada.”
“Surprising. The man doesn’t often tell tales of our past. I was foolish then. I’m much more careful about the occult artifacts I seek nowadays. I suspect it doesn’t work if the holder is already a bearer of good things,” he added. “You do live a good life, Annja.”
“Not so good as yours.”
“Wealth and prestige may look good on the outside…” He didn’t finish the thought. Instead, Roux opened the limo’s back door. “Hop inside. The weather is turning nasty.”
Tucking the skull to her, Annja slammed the trunk and slid inside the warmth of the limo. Roux offered wine, but she refused. She was still riding the buzz from this morning’s coffee. That stuff had been high octane.
“You think we could go to the drive-through? I’d kill for a burger.”
Roux scoffed.
“What is it with you immortals? It’s not like a little artery-hardening grease is going to knock you off. Up three blocks, driver, and turn left.”
The driver complied, and Annja cast Roux a winning smirk.
Only when she was situated with her bacon double cheese-burger did she strike up a conversation with her annoyed cohort.
“So, you flew here from France? Must have been worried about me, huh? And yet, you first went to Garin. Not feeling the love much here, Roux.”
“I initially stopped by your loft. You weren’t in residence. Garin’s place was my next guess. I did get the skull back for you. And I’ve yet to hear a thank-you.”
“Thank you. Innocence worldwide thanks you. I think. I’m still not overly convinced of its power. Could have been a fluke at the warehouse.”
“What fluke? You saw the skull working?”