If he remembers where they came from originally, then he's got to be really, really old. Olivia plastered a smile on her face, trying not to show her surprise and fear. Pure Bloods living for centuries or more... What wouldn't humans do to gain this fountain of youth?
Her subconscious answered her own question. Humans would buy and sell stolen artworks and promise the Alphans whatever they desired if they'd agree to share their secrets of eternal life.
"Who in Clan Alpha would know where to look for these antique components, and how to put them together and use them?" she blurted. No time for niceties. She needed to get this information back to Annara and the security forces so they could arrest the renegade Alphans.
Mahvet frowned. "Only the oldest, most trusted among our leaders have access to the sacred records and relics of our people, but they'd never do anything like this. It's forbidden. No, never."
Olivia shifted her weight to the balls of her feet. "Uh, I hate to tell you, but they've been sending some of your sacred relics to Earth using this very device. You ever hear of balits? Small, roundish dark stones? Ambassador Hernando spotted a few of them in a museum on Earth."
"He what?" Mahvet's voice went up the scale with indignation. "He's not a Pure Blood. What was he doing with balits on Earth?"
She winced at the vehemence of his words. The professor's calm exterior had vanished right before her eyes. No doubt, the selling of sacred items to aliens was an inexcusable offense to the Pure Bloods.
"Hernando did not bring the balits to Earth himself," she said in her most soothing tone. "We found out later they'd been purchased by a very wealthy businessman named Roland Grundfest and loaned to the museum. They're safe and being cared for by experts for the time being, if it helps you feel better."
Olivia could have sworn she could see angry steam pouring from the normally kind and patient professor's ears. He stomped about the rogue Portal, unable to hide his rage. She cringed, but she knew she had to drive the point home to gain his cooperation.
"Look, I'm sorry if it upsets you, but someone from your house had to have sold the balits to Grundfest. There's no record of them traveling through official channels, so someone must have used this device to transport them. There's no other way they could have gotten to Earth."
Mahvet swung his arms at a control panel. She dashed over just in time to stop his fist from connecting with it.
"Please, professor! Remember, they might have a security device set to alert them if anybody touches it."
He took a long breath and pulled back. "You're right. We should go now. I'm not sure I can hold back my desire to wreak vengeance against the sacrilege my kinsmen have committed."
She nodded. "Good idea. We leave the way we came in?"
"Or the way we came in."
Olivia spun around at the sound of Moreau's smug, self-assured voice coming from the feasting hall's main entrance. "You!" she spat at him. "I should have known you were involved in this."
"Hello, Olivia. Hello, Mahvet. I see you've discovered where we're keeping our insurance policy." With a casual toss of his blond hair over his shoulder, Moreau broke away from the pack and strode to her side. Olivia recognized his father and uncles among the Pure Bloods standing next to the large double doors, along with a half-dozen beefy Overseers. "Insurance policy is the correct term, isn't it?"
"Probably. Who are you paying your premiums to? It wouldn't be Roland Grundfest by chance, would it?"
Moreau froze. His eyes narrowed. "How do you know the name?"
So, she had something on Golden Boy? She'd better make good use of it. She took a step toward him, hands on hips. "Dear ol' Roland? You could say Mr. Grundfest is a friend of mine. He invited us over for drinks at his palatial home in the Hamptons recently—even flew us there in our very own jet."
Olivia bit her lip to keep from laughing. Poor Moreau furrowed his pale forehead, confused at her odd confession. It was obvious—no one was supposed to know the Alphans had an exclusive deal running with a human businessman. Why did the Alphans think Grundfest wouldn't give their relationship away? The billionaire was known for his extravagant gestures and hot-headed temper tantrums. His often foolish antics and childish tweets moaning about his competitors made the news almost daily. The Alphans couldn't be so naïve as to believe Roland Grundfest could be trusted.
Ah, but Pure Bloods don't receive our newscasts or have access to the internet. They don't realize what a stupid deal they made with Grundfest. Should I enlighten them or let them suffer for it?
Keep your thoughts neutral, Olivia, Valori's voice instructed. I can't block all thoughts, all the time, particularly emotional ones. Stay with Moreau and the others. I'll be there soon.
"You and your family are a disgrace to Clan Alpha," Mahvet roared. He crossed the room to stand eye to eye with Moreau. "You sully our clan's sacred honor by selling our cherished relics, and for what? To accumulate useless wealth on another world?"
Moreau tossed his head back, his golden hair bouncing about his shoulders as he shook with laughter. "Better to have wealth on two worlds than nothing on one. Right, eh, Mahvet? You of all people should know how much we Alphans have struggled to get where we are today. The least of the clans on BloodDark in the dawning times—the brunt of jokes as we crawled and scraped our way up from the bottom tiers of society to simply survive, but now..." His cobalt eyes glowed with pure arrogance. "We have the power. We have the ability to rule two worlds."
Mahvet looked askance at the younger Pure Blood. "To rule as
