The Key of Darkness (The Bradbury Institute Book 1) Page 7

  The door opened. Stern entered, carrying a note. She approached with barely a glance at the captive. An acid-green bob framed her beautiful face, black leather pants and a black tank top hugging her thin frame. Tattoos, some stationary, some sliding across her skin like snakes, covered her arms.

  “Our spy at Bradbury has new information.” She handed Agnar the note.

  He read it, glance flicking to Delafield. “It’s your lucky day, John.” He motioned for the guards to remove the man.

  Delafield screamed as they dragged him out. “What about my son? What about Knox?”

  Crantz closed the door to shut out the noise. Delafield cared about his own flesh and blood all right, literally his own. Agnar despised disloyalty and planned to show Delafield exactly how he felt. For months he’d been dealing with the man, buying various occult items that belonged to the Delafield estate. John was selling them off on the sly to pay gambling debts. Some of the pieces were interesting but Agnar played games with the man because he wanted one thing in particular, and one thing only.

  The Key of Darkness.

  The power the ancient grimoire would bring him would be incalculable. Agnar was determined to have it, no matter what he had to do to get it. Or who he had to go through.

  He held up the note. “Frankfurt. Mueller’s auction.”

  “Knox Delafield is going to auction off the Key of Darkness?” Crantz laughed at the absurdity. “Well, we know who got the balls in that family.”

  “Indeed.” Agnar handed the paper back to Stern and returned to the chaise lounge. “Make the arrangements.”

  Stern nodded and left the room. Crantz said, “You’re going to buy the Key?”

  Agnar shrugged. “Perhaps I will. Then I’ll tear off strips of Knox Delafield and mail them to his father.” He snapped his fingers, looking around for the girl. “You! Finish.”

  She slinked into his lap and unzipped his pants. Crantz drifted away. Agnar focused his thoughts on what he would do once he had the Key.

  Chapter 14

  “Un, deux, trios, quatre, cinq, six, sept, huit, neuf, dix.” Eve counted under her breath. The plane began to descend, sending her stomach into an unpleasant flip-flop. She groaned and started counting again, a little louder this time.

  “I didn’t know you spoke French,” Chet said.

  “I don’t.” She white-knuckled the armrest. This was the first time she’d flown and she’d already decided not to make it a habit. “Counting to ten like that gives me something to focus on when I get nervous.”

  “It’s a very safe way to travel.” Chet placed a hand on top of hers, giving it a comforting squeeze. “Is this your first trip overseas?”

  Eve nodded. “I always wanted to go to Italy. Getting a passport was kind of a whim but I’m glad I got it now.”

  They chatted through the rest of the landing, Eve grateful for the distraction. The Frankfurt Flughafen teemed with people from all over Europe and points farther. Security armed with Uzis patrolled the entire airport. Chet led the way as if he’d been there before. A chauffeured Mercedes took them into the city via autobahn. Eve tried not to press her nose to the glass like a kid but when Chet started pointing out the window and telling her about the sights she gave up.

  The deep blue of late twilight covered the city as they arrived at their destination. Eve had expected a hotel but instead Chet told her they were staying in a private apartment above a restaurant.

  “This is the Ostzeile,” Chet said as he and the driver pulled the luggage from the car. “This whole area is a reconstruction of what the old town used to look like before the war.”

  It looked like something out of a movie to Eve. Several stories high and steeply gabled, the row of buildings looked almost like gingerbread houses built wall to wall to each other. Umbrella-covered tables spilled onto the thoroughfare, filled with people dining and drinking. From that line of tables spread a large open plaza.

  Chet was saying something about the Roemerberg. When he paused for a breath Eve jumped in to ask, “Can we take a walk?”

  “Let’s get settled in first, talk to Hilda. I think a walk would be a good idea after being stuck in a plane for so long.”

  They followed the driver to the apartment. A woman sat waiting for them in the living room, presumably Hilda. She tossed aside a copy of Italian Vogue to greet them, taller than Chet in her high heels when she stood.

  Chet didn’t seem troubled by that. In fact he looked a bit like a cat who found a secret bowl of cream. “Guten abend, Hilda.” They kissed each other on the cheek, Hilda marking him with her lipstick. Briefly, Eve wondered how Bettine would react to that. A statuesque beauty, Hilda oozed a similar confidence as the Frenchwoman, but seemed harder somehow, flintier. As if she had to work for it, whatever it really was, whereas with Bettine it came as natural as breathing.

  Eve stood to one side, waiting for them to finish flirting and remember she was there. The apartment was small but very well-appointed in a simple yet elegant style. She was more interested in what was outside the apartment. Looking for a bathroom seemed like a good idea so she slipped away. Cleaning up a bit and changing into jeans and another blouse helped get rid of the funk of travel. She brushed out her long hair, working it into a braid that hung down her back. She returned to the main room in time to see Hilda run her hand down Chet’s front. He stepped back as her fingers neared his belt, his face unreadable as he noticed Eve.

  “This is our newest member, Eve Kane.” Chet briefly touched her elbow.

  She was a member of Bradbury? Were they going to tell her? Make it official, hopefully with the ceremonial presentation of a secret decoder ring? She considered offering to shake hands, but decided a forceful nod would be safer. “Nice to meet you.”

  “Eve, this is Hilda. She’s our primary contact in Frankfurt.”

  Hilda gave her a quick up and down look. Apparently not finding Eve a threat, she offered what was probably supposed to be a smile. “I have procured your invitations to the ball tomorrow night.” She returned her attention to Chet. “And I’ve spoken to Mueller again. He assures me he has no idea what Knox Delafield intends to sell.”

  “That’s good,” Chet said. “That should mean no one else knows either.”

  “Would you care to enlighten me? If I know what you’re searching for I’m sure I can be of more help.” Hilda stepped closer to Chet, invitation clear in her half-smile.

  Eve wrinkled her nose at the cheesy Bond Girl routine.

  Chet waited a beat before responding. “We’ll get into that later. Right now, I seem to recall promising Eve a walk. We have been trapped in an airplane for hours. It’d be nice to stretch our legs. Wouldn’t it, Eve?”

  Eve made a vague noise of assent, hoping Pussy Galore didn’t decide to tag along. Chet ushered them out, telling Hilda they would talk later. Eve relaxed as they entered the plaza. Full night had fallen. Coffee and cigarette smoke scented the air as they walked past the umbrella tables. Eve followed Chet but kept the pace slow so she could look around.

  The ruins of a Roman bath were in the ground at the foot of a massive cathedral. Eve only half-listened to Chet’s history lesson as they walked through the ancient stone. She kept her hands firmly in her jacket pockets, intimidated by the thought of reading something that old. Jean-Pierre had worked with her on shielding and she’d made progress, but she was in no mood to tempt fate.

  They entered the cathedral, Chet continuing his history lesson slash tour guide. “St. Bartholomeus dates back to the fourteenth century. It was built on top of a Merovingian church. Emperors of the Holy Roman Empire were crowned here for centuries.”

  The cathedral was quiet, few people visiting at night. Chet paused near an altar of votive candles. Eve spoke. “You said the Roemer and Ostzeile had to be rebuilt after the war. Was the cathedral damaged?”

  “This whole area was hit by bombs and had to be rebuilt.” An older couple stepped forward to light a candle and say a brief prayer. Eve wondere
d about the pinched, uncomfortable look on Chet’s face.

  She leaned closer to whisper. “Are you going to tell Hilda what we’re after?”

  “Hell no.” He flashed a quick grin, bright blue eyes sparkling with amusement.

  “But you’ll flirt with her.” Eve wiped the faint trace of lipstick from his cheek with her thumb. “What would Bettine say to that?”

  His eyes darkened. “Bettine would say she’s a free agent and so am I.”

  The older couple moved away. Eve moved to the altar, using one candle to light another. She didn’t pray in any traditional sense, but she did think of Mrs. Delafield for a moment, remembering her with love.

  Chet came to her side, dropping a euro note in the donation box. Candlelight flickered across his profile, his mouth set in a hard line. He snapped his fingers over a candle, a small flame popping to life. Eve stared, eyes going wide. Pointing at the candle she said, “You, uh.”

  “Yes.” One side of his mouth went up barely enough to be noticeable. He watched the lights flicker.

  “So you…you do magic too?” Eve was still not sure how to phrase a question like that. “Does everyone at Bradbury have some kind of ability?”

  “I think it’s fair to say there’s something special about everyone at the institute.” He led her through the cathedral and back out to the plaza.

  “So am I officially a member or is that just something you told Hilda?”

  “That’s up to you. But for what it’s worth, I hope you stay with us.” He offered her his arm. “Surely it’s better than temp work in some boring office.”

  Laughing, Eve placed her hand inside his elbow. “So far, much.” They took their time back to the apartment. Eve was beginning to feel the day, the time change and the stress of travel. She ought to sleep well, even in a strange place.

  “So if there’s something special about everyone,” she said, pausing as she debated whether or not to name the person she really wanted to know about. Then she decided to hell with it. “What’s special about Pete? Does he do magic too?”

  Chet glanced at her with frank curiosity. “Let me put it this way, Pete doesn’t use magic. You want to know more, you’ll have to ask him.”

  Eve had the strong impression his phrasing was important so she tucked that piece of information away. Not that she had any expectations of Pete telling her any deep dark secrets. “Is there time for sight-seeing tomorrow before we get ready for the ball?” She stuck her lip in an obviously fake pout. “I’ve never been to Europe! This place looks like a James Bond movie.” Her mouth fell into a slight frown. “But if it’s all the same to you, can we go without Honeychile Rider?”

  Chet gave her a startled look before lapsing into a snicker. “She is a little over the top. Actually, how would you feel about going it alone?”

  “That would work too.”

  Despite her exhaustion Eve slept badly, dreams of the Key disturbing her as usual. After breakfast Chet gave her a map, a tourist brochure, and far more euro than she felt comfortable carrying. He made suggestions about what to go see before leaving to meet with Hilda. Dressed casually in jeans, a light sweater, and sneakers, with her hair in a ponytail, Eve didn’t care if she looked like the typical American tourist. She was having too much fun seeing the sights.

  One of those sights she wanted to see was an area Chet told her about called the Zeil. A wide boulevard home to a renowned shopping district, it also had the old opera house on the far end of it. She studied the map, trying to decide if she could walk there or if she should take public transportation. Chet had assured her the buses and trains were perfectly safe. The weather was lovely, though, an early autumn nip in the air perfectly balancing out the warm sunshine. She’d walk it if she could figure out the map.

  “Need some help finding your way?”

  She froze. The voice came from behind and held a teasing note she recognized instantly. With deliberate casualness she folded the map and turned to face him. “Guten morgen, Knox.”

  Knox Delafield grinned. “Hello, hot stuff.”

  Chapter 15

  Eve allowed Knox to escort her to the Zeil. “You don’t seem surprised I know your name.”

  “Of course I’m not surprised. You’re here with Chet, right? And he’s taking you to the auction tomorrow.” Knox seemed very sure of himself in every possible way. Dressed in skinny jeans, a blazer over a button up shirt, and Italian loafers, he was the picture of casual sophistication. He was every bit as handsome without the mask as she’d expected, the planes of his face sharp but not harsh. His dark brown eyes glittered with intelligence and amusement. He had the air of someone capable of making themselves at home anywhere, but clearly he loved the fast-paced city. He took her hand without asking and led her through the crowds with ease.

  “Are you really going to sell it?” Eve pulled against his hand to force him to slow down. “Knowing your grandmother meant for it to be kept safe?”

  Knox paused, mouth still tugged into a slight smile. “You like music?”

  “What?” A cell phone would have been handy. Come to think of it, Eve was surprised Chet had allowed her to go wandering around alone without any way of contacting him. They’d talked about how dangerous this was but then he agreed to let her play tourist. She wasn’t sure what to make of that.

  “There’s this great place, a record store called World of Music. You can put on headphones and listen to music while you’re there. You know, so you know what you’re buying. You like reggae? I love reggae.” The amusement in his eyes had changed to earnestness, the kind usually only seen in puppies and small children.

  A scrum of people surged past them, forcing her to step closer. “Knox, you cannot sell the Key. It’s dangerous.”

  “It’s my birthright,” he snapped. He looked away for a moment, as if embarrassed for the outburst. The mellow autumn sunlight brought out deep gold flecks in his dark brown hair. “I know what the Key is, and I know what I’m doing.”

  Eve widened her eyes, incredulous. “How can you think selling something like that to the highest bidder is a good idea?”

  Something hard and cold flitted across Knox’s features before he reverted back to an insouciant grin. “If you’re supposed to be a honey trap, you might want to think about your methodology.”

  She jerked her hand from his grasp and folded her arms over her chest. “I really hate that phrase.”

  “Then what are you doing here?”

  Eve took a deep breath. “Because keeping the Key from falling into the wrong hands is the right thing to do.”

  He narrowed his eyes, his mouth puckered dangerously close to duck-face. “Okay…so you totally want me.”

  Eve turned her back on him and stalked away. He caught up quickly, grabbed her and spun her around. “World of Music’s this way.”

  “I don’t want to go to a record store. I want to talk about the Key. Why are you doing this? Your grandmother wanted you to deliver it to Bradbury, not steal it from them.”

  Knox ignored her. “At the far end of the Zeil is the old opera house. It’s really beautiful, we should walk down there so you can see it.”

  Eve clenched her jaw, wanting to scream. This was not going how she planned. For one thing, she’d planned on him actually listening to what she said. She wondered again why Chet had not come with her. If he were here surely Knox would listen to him.

  She decided to try another avenue. “She talked about you a lot, your grandmother. You were her favorite grandchild.”

  He smirked. “Of course I was her favorite. Did you meet the others?” He waved a dismissive hand. “What a boring bunch.”

  “They seemed nice enough.”

  “Yeah, nice and boring.”

  Their pace had already slowed to an easy stroll by the time they reached a street musician dressed in a kilt and playing bagpipes. Knox stopped to listen for a few minutes, giving Eve a chance to take in more of the scenery. The Zeil was a broad boulevard full of shops and caf
es and a steady throng of pedestrians. Some distance away was a large circular fountain in the center with people sitting on the concrete edge. Here and there were recognizable corporate names, a smattering of English, and German words that were either close to their English counterpart or easy enough to translate in context. Like at the airport there was a lot more diversity among the people than she was used to, with almost as many appearing to be immigrants as there were that looked German. Once in a while she’d catch a bit of something that sounded like Farsi, African languages she couldn’t identify, and once Vietnamese.

  She looked at Knox, trying to see some of his grandmother in him. He looked more like the pictures she’d seen of his grandfather when he was young, and nothing at all like his parents. “She had a favorite story she liked to tell about you. That when you were a little boy you were playing outside one day, running around the flowerbeds and bushes in the lawn behind the house. And suddenly you stood perfectly still with your hand held out. A hummingbird landed in your palm. She said it was the most extraordinary thing she’d ever seen. That you just stood there, you and the hummingbird looking at each other as if you were having a silent conversation.”

  “I remember that,” he said, his voice wistful. “That’s a lovely story for her to have shared but I seriously doubt it was the most extraordinary thing she’d ever seen.” Eve started to speak but he cut her off. “I loved my grandmother very much, but with all due respect, you don’t know a damn thing about my family.”

  He dropped a bill into the bagpiper’s tip jar and took her hand, pulling her back into the flow of pedestrian traffic. “Come on, I want to see the Alte Oper.”

  “Why did you take the ring? Are you going to sell it too?”

  He stopped dead, jerking around to glare at her. “I would never sell that ring!”

  “But you would steal it, from the person Rebecca left it to.” Selfish or not, Eve didn’t care – she wanted that ring back.

  Knox began walking again, faster this time. “I’ll give you the ring back, if you want it bad enough.” He flashed a devilish grin. “But it’s gonna cost you.”