the trailers and dove under Kezia’s caravan. Then he emerged on the far side and examined the door.

Another pop. Another gasp of delight.

The combination lock was simple, no electronics, and the tumbler was far from a challenge. He managed to open it within a minute.

He cracked the door and felt a nearly imperceptible trip line pull tight.

Aha. Slipping his fingers along the edge of the door, Ben felt for the device and disabled it with a razor blade and a piece of tape. It wasn’t a sophisticated device but a basic hack that would alert Kezia when someone entered her trailer.

He was buying time. Probably five to ten minutes at most.

Like Radu, Kezia lived in an old-fashioned vardo, but there was nothing rustic about it. Silk wall hangings covered where curtains normally would be. The woodwork on the walls was carved and painted, and gold trim lined the cupboard doors and ceiling beams.

In an intricately designed living space like this one, there were a hundred places to hide something small, which was what Ben was looking for.

He surveyed the space, deliberating the most obvious place to start.

Not the desk or office area.

Not the closet or the vanity.

The sleeping area.

She’d want to keep her treasures close. Ben walked to the platform bed at the far end of the trailer and poked his head past the drapes. It was a cozy space with thick wall hangings that blocked out all light and would keep the custom wagon warm when it was cold in the winter.

Not that Ben saw Kezia spending a ton of time rolling through the winter in her vardo. She was far more likely to be spending the winter in the Crimea or on the Mediterranean or wherever Poshani royalty liked to hang out.

In the corner of the sleeping area, there was a small altar. Ben was only mildly surprised to find the famed icon of Sara-la-Kali there.

Of course the icon was Kezia’s. Of course it was. He should have seen it before Tenzin told him; the chapel had nearly screamed female! Leaning closer, he saw the small triptych Tenzin had spotted that clued her in.

It was a devotional, a private type of scene meant for a bedroom or personal chapel. There was a picture of the Madonna and Child being tended by the angels, and painted into the faces of the angels was the patroness who had commissioned the piece.

Kezia.

Her large eyes and dark curly hair were unmistakable. That was what Tenzin had seen in the chapel. That was what made her say yes to Kezia’s invitation to join the caravan. Kezia had been part of it since the beginning. Ben wasn’t sure if that made her more or less likely to be the one angling for power, but it was something to remember.

A cursory search of the sleeping area revealed no signs of the goblet, so his first theory was out the window. After searching the overhead and underbed cabinets, Ben slid his hands underneath the edge of the mattress and ran them along the sides. Halfway down the right side of the bed, he felt a faint seam in the wood.

Gotcha.

He pressed down and heard a latch click somewhere across the vardo. Sitting up straight, he searched in the area where the click had occurred.

He thought about Kezia. Proud, vain Kezia wouldn’t bend down. She wouldn’t crawl. Ben dismissed the lower cabinets.

He opened all the storage cabinets he’d searched before.

Wait.

Don’t think like you. Think like Tenzin.

Ben headed to the closet. If Kezia was anything like Tenzin, she wouldn’t only have coins and gold goblets in her safe, she’d have jewelry in there too. He sat at the small vanity and pulled open the drawer.

Lipstick. Bottles of perfume. Hairpins.

And the seam of a false bottom in the drawer.

28

Sliding back the false bottom, Ben saw that it didn’t contain a chamber but another lever. He pressed it and heard another click, but this time the sound was right under his nose.

A decorative panel beneath the vanity popped out from the wall. Ben reached up and slid it to the side, revealing an eight-by-eight-inch-square cabinet built into the vardo wall.

“Clever.”

He listened for the sound of fireworks, but he heard none.

The cabinet was like a small wall safe. Contained inside were stacks of gold coins, a silver dagger as long as his hand, a stack of old documents and—nestled in the far back—a worn silk purse no bigger than an aluminum can.

He reached for it and felt the weight of gemstone against his fingers. Ben opened the purse and let a carved gemstone goblet slide into his palm.

The sight rendered him stupid for a solid minute.

The artifact was incredibly beautiful. The sides were polished and carved with writing he couldn’t place. Not Arabic. Farsi maybe? It was small, no bigger than a demitasse glass, but made of pure gemstone the color of sunlight.

Ben grabbed a piece of paper from his pocket, placed it over the inscribed base of the goblet, then looked for any powders or pencils he could… There! An eye shadow. He tapped the tip of his finger against the dark powder before he rubbed it delicately over the writing.

He didn’t need to know everything it said, but he wanted to show it to Tenzin. She’d be able to identify the writing and the age.

He examined the goblet from bottom to lip, wishing he had the convenience of a mobile phone to snap pictures.

Dammit, being a vampire was so irritating sometimes.

He heard voices in the distance and put the goblet back, placing it in the exact position he’d found it in the first place. He carefully closed the panel and the drawer. He stood and put the vanity bench where it had been.

Then he backed out of the living area and crept toward the door, looking for something he could use to hide his scent. Most vampires, whether they could get drunk or not, kept a bar in their living area.

Kezia was no different. Ben saw the nearly

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