Page 37 of A Kiss of Flame
“Is he?” she questioned.
Hugh smiled. “Renault is an old acquaintance. The orb has been missing for some time, and it’s not every day Merlin’s daughter and the High Daemon Lord of Obsidian walk into his shop in Paris asking about it.”
Her stomach churned. She felt genuinely foolish now, realizing how obvious they must have been. She’d been so focused on catching her thieves that she’d been careless, and it stung.
“What do ye want?” Barith asked gruffly, stepping closer to hover behind her.
“Yes, what do you want?” she echoed in irritation. The pixies knew more than she would have guessed, and she was struggling to deduce why they’d not dragged them both into their office the moment they’d stepped into Kamár if all they wanted was the Heart Orb.
Hugh glanced at Barith, then back at her. “We are not enemies,” he said. “In fact, I believe our goals may be more aligned than you realize.”
Levian shifted, wary. “Goals?” she asked. “Do you wish to broker the orb, then?”
Artie huffed from behind his paper. “Tell her, Hugh. We’ve business to get to.”
Hugh wrinkled his nose at being rushed. Levian narrowed her eyes. “Tell me what?” she pressed.
Hugh stepped closer, but Barith leaned in over her, his presence forcing the pixie back. Hugh’s gaze flickered between them, and his expression hardened. “I know you have the orb,” Hugh said. “But we will not broker its sale.”
Levian’s heart sank.
“Why not?” Barith growled. “Isn’t selling priceless forbidden stuff what ye do?”
Hugh glared at him. “We will not handle its sale because the Eldreth are sworn never to broker an item of Dökk origin with Levian Myrddin.”
Levian didn’t even try to keep the shock from her face. “Why?” she demanded.
Hugh smirked, looking at her as if she were less clever than he’d thought. There were countless reasons, but the real one struck her like a stone in the head falling from a high cliff.
“My father,” she said hollowly, answering her own question. A chill spread through Levian, her arms wrapping around herself as she glared at Hugh.
Barith cursed, the sound echoing. “The bastard is rotting in prison,” he snapped.
“That may be true,” Hugh said, “but the deal was struck and remains in our ledger.”
Levian swallowed a lump in her throat. Part of her wanted to think her father had brokered this deal to protect her from following in his dark footsteps. But she knew the truth deep down. He did it to protect himself, to keep her from threatening his power if she ever tried.
“Well,” she drawled with bitterness. “I guess we have nothing more to discuss.” She turned to leave, her blood boiling. Barith didn’t move.
“What if it were me?” he asked. “Could ye broker it for me?”
Levian stopped, turning back slowly. Barith was glaring at Hugh, deadly serious.
“No,” she said firmly. She wasn’t going to let Barith risk his reputation over this. She wouldn’t allow it.
“But if—” Barith started, turning to her.
“No!” Levian declared.
Hugh seemed to find their little tiff amusing. “Perhaps we can devise an alternative arrangement,” the pix offered.
Levian was tired, angry, and had no patience left. “What kind of arrangement?” she asked, her skin prickling.
“We’d like to hire you,” Hugh said.
“To do what?” Barith grunted.
“Steal something,” Hugh replied. Levian kept her expression schooled though her heart jumped.