'I accepted the job. I don't have a choice in the matter.'
'Paen?' Clare turned to him. 'Don't you have something to say about Sam's plan to use a seer?'
'No,' he answered, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned against the wall. His eyes, normally so bright, were dulled like tarnished silver plate. 'But only because the idea is so ridiculous it doesn't merit an answer.'
'Ridiculous!' I gasped, sitting up straight.
'That's what I said. Anyone who deludes themselves into believing that they can consult a seer without paying an unthinkable price deserves the label of ridiculous.' My gasp changed into an outraged huff. 'You are not going to turn this over to a seer,' he added, walking around the client's chair in front of my desk where his coat and hat lay. 'I want to find this statue more than anyone, but not at the cost of others' lives. You're hungry and exhausted. You need food. I believe we can spare an hour to feed you and Clare while we discuss the next step.'
'Correction—you can talk about it all you like over dinner, dessert, and the swivel hips of a troop of dancing girls. I, however, have work to do, and I intend to do it before the night ages any more.'
'Sam!' Clare looked scandalized.
I sighed. She was right. Just because Paen had all but ripped my heart out and stomped it into nothing but a smear on the ground didn't mean I had to be rude. He was a client. A professional, rather than personal, demeanor was clearly called for. Henceforth, I would be the personification of investigative professionalism.
'My apologies, gentlemen. I didn't mean to sound so brusque. I'm sure you'll all have a lovely dinner, but I'm afraid I'm going to be a bit busy.'
I glanced at Paen. 'If you have something to say to me, please say it out loud. The mental broadcasting station has been closed due to FCC conflicts.'
'You're not going to use a seer. I forbid it.'
I gathered up my coat and purse. 'You're my client, Paen, not my father.' I was unable to keep from sliding him a hurt look. 'Or my lover anymore, for that matter. Therefore, I'll do as I please. I'll see you all later. Enjoy dinner.'
Paen blocked the way to the door. 'Very well, since you insist on playing this game—if you will not respect my wishes with regards to the seer, I will fire you.'
'Really?' I stopped directly in front of him, my body demanding I keep walking until it was pressed up against all those lovely hard lines of his. 'You're willing to give up your mother's soul over this?'
He hesitated for a moment. 'I don't believe that a seer is the solution. If I had, I would have consulted one myself. Seers are not always what they seem, and seldom give the help you need.'
'Yes, well, the bottom line is that I said I'd find that statue in the amount of time you have left, and I intend to do just that. Now please step out of the way and allow me to do my job.'
His jaw tightened. 'I'm removing you from the case.'
'Too late. I've accepted the retainer. I'm going to find the statue,' I said, trying to step around him. He grabbed for my arm. I backed up until I was out of reach.
'Sam, you can't do this,' Clare said, closing in on me from the other side. Her face was puckered with worry, the remains of a flower clutched in her hand.
'I can't? Watch me,' I said calmly, determination seeping from all the gaping holes Paen had left in my soul.
'There's no way out of here,' Finn said, moving so he stood next to Paen. 'We're not going to let you endanger yourself with a seer, Sam. Come to dinner and we'll talk about it.'
I smiled, just smiled at Clare and Finn. Paen I couldn't look at without wanting to scream, sob, and rip all his clothes off in order to have my wicked way with him. Instead of any of those, I reached out and found the opening to the beyond, slipping through it before anyone realized what I was doing.
I heard an echo of my name, but it was distant and tinny, as if spoken from a long way away. I had to pass through Paen to get to the door, an act that almost brought me to tears with the pain of rejection. For one brief moment, time held its breath as my soul merged with his. Like the other times we'd merged, it was so right, so perfect I didn't want to leave. For a moment, I allowed my love to shine bright. Paen reeled in surprise. With a cry of anguish that ripped from my throat, I tore myself away from him and left the office, waiting until I was at the edge of the founded area to slip back to reality.
Paen tried a few times to mind-speak to me, but I barely had the strength to walk away from him—there was no way I could argue my feelings with him. After our last merging, he'd be well aware of the depths of my emotions, and I knew he wasn't happy about them. In a move of sheerest self-preservation, I put up a mental do not disturb sign, and blocked his mind from mine.
It took a good half hour of solid persuasion to get the name and phone number of an area seer from Jake, but after I told him I would rather sacrifice my own soul than lose Paen's mother's, he caved and gave it to me.
'Just remember that a seer's services come at an exorbitantly high price,' he advised as he wrote out a name and phone number. 'She'll ask you for something very precious indeed. I hope you're prepared to lose something that matters to you.'
'I'm immortal now,' I said, pocketing the slip of paper. 'I can afford to lose a few years of my life.'
'Just because the seer that Brother Bartholomew used demanded seven years of his life does not guarantee that's what this seer will ask of you,' he warned, concern filling his eyes.
I gave his hand a squeeze and kissed his cheek. 'Thanks for everything, Jake—both the name and the worry. But you can relax. I'm not suicidal, nor overly stupid. I'll only barter something that I can do without.'
He shook his head as I left. 'That's not how it works, Sam. Just remember that whatever the price she asks, it's bound to be too high. Try to get it down to something that won't deprive you too much.'
I thanked him again and walked to the corner where there was a pay phone. Three minutes later I was running to a taxi stand, having managed to get an appointment with Kelsey Franklin, local seer.
Chapter 14
The ride out to Rosslyn Chapel, where the seer arranged to meet me, wasn't overly long, but it seemed to take a couple of lifetimes. I was nervous, unhappy about having shut out Paen, but determination to see the job through (not to mention a wee touch of pride) kept me from bolting as I paid off the taxi, and looked through the gloom at the old stone building in front of it. Scaffolding along one side indicated that some restoration work was going on. Heeding the seer's instructions, I walked around to the side, where she told me a door would be left unlocked.
I glanced at the sky as I stepped into the building, wishing for approximately the five hundred and seventeenth time that my personal magnetism didn't stop watches. I guessed it to be after seven, which left me roughly five hours until deep night. I'd have time to meet the seer, engage in negotiations, and hopefully run out to pick up the statue from wherever it was being held. If the demon who talked to Paen was right after all, and Owen Race had it… well, I'd cross that bridge when I came to it.
'Hello?' My voice was hushed and somewhat hoarse. I stepped into a side aisle of the chapel, goose bumps prickling on my arms as my footsteps echoed eerily on the uncarpeted stone floor. 'Anyone here? Mrs. Franklin?'
My voice echoed as well, sending little shivers down my back as I moved toward the main aisle. The chapel was built of a beautiful cream stone, twin rows of tall, intricately carved pillars flanking the dark wooden pews that filled the center part of the chapel. Candelabras with electric candles stood at each pillar, lighting the chapel with a warm golden glow that extended upward, to the high gothic arched ceiling, also elaborately carved with faces, figures, and ornaments. No light shone in through the stained glass windows, but I could see that they would be beautiful in sunlight. I paused for a moment, focusing my thoughts, and allowed the essence of the building to tell me its story.
'Whoa,' I said softly, closing myself off from it. 'You've got a lot of history.'
