The Enemy's Kiss. Zandria Munson
Читать онлайн книгу.
sure. Why would any thief overlook all the priceless items within the gallery and steal only a stone with no apparent value? The heist had to have been contrived by one who knew the rune stone’s significance.
The detective spoke then. “This isn’t the first time something like this has happened.” He extended a hand. “Detective Simmons.”
Nicholas shook his hand and the detective continued.
“We have reason to believe that the thief who robbed you tonight is the Midnight Bandit. He’s struck over twenty jewelry and antiques stores within the past year and his pattern is always the same—very clean entry, disables all secondary security devices within a twenty—or thirty-foot radius, hacks the main computer to gain access to the vaults, takes only one item and then disappears before the authorities arrive.”
“And you have no knowledge of who is committing these crimes?” Nicholas asked.
“None. The thief never leaves fingerprints, DNA evidence or even eyewitnesses. One thing’s for certain—this guy’s really meticulous. We’ve only been following leads, most of which turn up empty.”
“Have any of the stolen items ever been recovered?” Marius asked.
“Unfortunately, no. We have reason to believe they’re channeled through the black market and out of the country.”
Nicholas folded his arms across his broad chest. “So this ‘Midnight Bandit’ has been rampaging through the city for an entire year and yet you have no answers or solutions to offer?”
The detective’s gaze flitted to Marius and back. “We just don’t have the manpower to watch every potential target in this city. It’s impossible. There’s no budget for it. So we’ve been encouraging business owners like yourselves to take additional measures to protect your properties. It makes our job a little easier.”
One of Nicholas’s dark brows shot up. “And still you have yet to make progress?”
Marius cleared his throat. “I am certain you are doing everything you can. We will do whatever is necessary to assist you with your investigations.” He sent Nicholas a pointed look.
Nicholas inclined his head and said no more. He allowed Marius to continue the interview while he headed toward the back of the gallery. He looked at the neat hole that had been left in the skylight above. The glass, he knew, was two inches thick. His gaze fell to the marble floor, combing it for any pieces that may have fallen, but found nothing.
He strayed over to the wide glass windows and his gaze locked on to a point on the roof of the building across the street. They had no doubt been watched. His trepidation mounted. Somehow someone had learned that the rune would be delivered on that day and had devised a plan to steal it. Nicholas had been careful to keep news of its transport among only those who needed to know. This could mean only one thing: someone within their clan couldn’t be trusted.
“Must you always be so embarrassing?” Marius’s reflection appeared in the glass before him.
Nicholas shot him a glance over his shoulder. “One of the sacred runes has been stolen. I do not think my behavior warrants objection. There was a time when a thief stood no chance against the law. He was apprehended and sometimes beheaded right on the spot.”
“In case you have not noticed, things have changed. Public decapitations would be sorely frowned upon. It is called being civilized. You would do well to embrace it.”
He turned to face Marius. “The matter of this missing rune should not be taken lightly, brother. If it is so much as damaged the spell can be broken.”
Marius looked pensive. “Father will not be pleased to hear of this. That secret has been buried within our family for many centuries. Whoever stole it must know of its importance.”
Nicholas flexed his neck as a sudden ache began to move down his spine. “There are two possibilities. He intends only to attempt to harvest the power of the stone, for the knowledge of runes has not yet been forgotten. Or he is preparing to conjure the dark and ancient magic that retains the souls of our uncle and his followers. Either way it is a risk we cannot afford.”
“And what of its twin?” Marius questioned. “The Rune of Cythe?”
“Only father knows its location.”
Again Nicholas pondered the possibility of one of their own bloodline plotting to break the spell. Surely the ruin that Gabriel had caused was no secret. To think that someone would wish to revive him was indeed disconcerting.
“I must travel to Romania,” Nicholas told Marius.
“I will go with you,” Marius offered.
“No, your wife needs you here.”
Marius nodded. “And father?” His brows were furrowed with concern.
Nicholas sighed. “I will be the one to tell him.” He sauntered back toward the hole in the skylight and peered up into it.
His eyes narrowed. The space was only large enough for a very slender form to pass through. He would’ve made mention of it, but a faint scent passed into his nostrils. He paused—it was barely present, a soft wisp of something pleasant.
Marius looked at him. “What is it?” he asked.
“There is a fragrance on the air.”
Marius inhaled softly. “I smell nothing.”
Nicholas realized that he was again tapping into the abilities he’d possessed as a gargoyle. He found it odd that Marius was unable to do the same.
“The air is laced with it,” he told him as he inhaled deeply.
Marius followed. “What does it smell like?”
Nicholas was silent for a moment then he turned to face his brother. “Like roses.”
Chapter 2
Drakon Castle, Romania
Nicholas flexed the thick and aching muscles of his neck. Obscured within the shadows of the large dining hall of his family’s estate, he waited. He’d been pacing the darkness as he’d contemplated all the possible motives for what had occurred, when a noise had alerted him. Silently, he’d made his way down the hall, slipping an eighteenth-century rapier from the wall in the process.
He’d arrived in Romania earlier that day and had relayed the incident of the stolen rune stone to his father. As expected, Lord Victor hadn’t taken the news well, and he’d summoned the elders of their clan to discuss the matter.
As Nicholas neared the main dining hall the scraping noise grew louder. He slipped within the shadows cast by the massive hearth whose jaws gaped with only slivers of a dying flame. From somewhere in the mansion a grandfather clock chorused the midnight hour. His eyes riveted to one of the tall rear windows and one thought invaded his mind—the Midnight Bandit had come to find the second rune.
A soft popping sound ensued and the window creaked open, the heavy drapes lifting as a gust of wind reached in to caress them. His muscles tensed. It had been a long time since he’d last had the privilege to engage in a worthwhile fight, and thus, he welcomed the inevitable confrontation with eagerness. He only hoped that his opponent was up to the challenge.
One black boot then another swung in through the opening. Nicholas would’ve advanced, but paused as two slender calves encased within skintight leather slipped in. Shapely thighs and hips followed. Dressed in a black, fitted shirt, leather pants and a mask, the figure landed in a silent crouch on the floor. His eyes narrowed on his new adversary. It seemed his assumption had been correct; the Midnight Bandit was female.
With feline grace, she crawled another few feet and she shot an assessing look about the room.
Nicholas remained as he was; still and without breath. He watched as she stood and began to saunter across the floor. She even took a moment to admire