"More than you do."
"No one's ever going to believe it. No one." They'd laugh her out of the profession if she even tried to present this.
Ash took another drink of beer. "You're probably right about that." Because he was going to make damn sure of it.
Her eyes bright, she cradled the diary against her like a precious infant. "I'm holding something that someone once cherished . . . eleven thousand years ago. Eleven thousand years ago," she repeated. "My God, Ash, do you understand how old that is?"
Better than she could imagine.
"This book could tell me everything. What they ate, how they lived . . ." Tears filled her eyes. "With this book, we've unlocked a world that no one alive has ever glimpsed before. I can't believe this discovery. No wonder no one knew the languages or that the equipment couldn't get the right date. It was coming up with dates, but no one believed it so we kept testing and retesting. Oh my God," she breathed. "Eleven thousand years ago. Just imagine how beautiful the world must have been."
Not from his perspective. Personally, he'd like to be able to purge most of those years out of his memory. "You're getting your skin oil all over the journal. You might not want to do that given its age."
She immediately set it down. "Thanks. I tend to get carried away sometimes." She sat next to him on the floor and captured his gaze as she braced her hands on the arm of his chair. "What else can you tell me about it?"
Again, more than she'd ever believe. He could tell her who every person in it was and introduce her to two of them who were currently living and breathing. That was scariest part of all. But the contents of it were harmless. All it showed was how sheltered and naive Ryssa had been as a girl. How precious she'd been. "What else do you want to know?"
Before she could answer, her phone rang out with Ozzy Osborne's "Bark at the Moon." "Hold on a sec. That's David."
Ash leaned back in his chair while she went to answer it. You know you shouldn't have told her what the journal was. But then it didn't really matter. There were only a handful of beings who could read it and one of them was human. Besides, better he look at it and read the book first. Now he knew he had nothing to fear from it. But he needed to keep Tory near him and distract her from this quest before she found a journal that was damning.
It could have raised questions he didn't want answered.
"That's terrible! Was anyone hurt?"
Ash frowned at the stress in Tory's voice before he turned his attention to her call.
"Okay, just keep me posted. Thanks, sweetie." Her features were pale as she returned to him.
"Is everything all right?"
"No, someone attacked a member of my crew in Greece yesterday."
Ash frowned. "What do you mean?"
"Oh it was awful. We lost some research and a couple of artifacts that'd just been brought up. David said Nikolas tried to stop the muggers, but he couldn't. He'll be all right, but he's really banged up from it." She shook her head. "I swear we're cursed. Every time we get close to bringing up large chunks of the find, something bad happens."
"Maybe it's the ancient gods telling you to leave it be."
She snorted. "Maybe, but I can't. Both of my parents gave their lives to prove the existence of Atlantis. My uncle sacrificed his life and his sanity to it. My cousin may have given up the search, but I swore on my parents' graves that I wouldn't. Not until my father's reputation is restored. I'm tired of him being the punchline at parties whenever someone brings up Atlantis." She looked at him. "I'm sure you have no idea what it's like to be mocked and ridiculed—"
"You don't know me well enough to make that assertion."
"Sorry," she said quietly. "You're right. Who was that redhead by the way?"
Her constant shift in thoughts baffled him. "What on earth are you talking about now?"
"In Nashville, you were with a beautiful redheaded woman who got up and left in a pique. Who was she?"
Damn, she'd been attentive. "An old friend."
"You were really nasty to her. By the way she was acting, I assumed you two were hooked up."
It was his turn to snort at the very idea. "Oh I can guarantee you we're not an item." That would involve Artemis admitting openly that she was intimate with him. So what if they had a daughter together and half her pantheon knew they slept together, she still couldn't bring herself to admit he was anything other than her platonic pet.
"You were still mean to her," Tory chided.
He had to bury the ire he felt at her condemnation when she had no idea how much shit he'd taken from Artemis over the centuries—including the fact that she'd kept his daughter's birth a secret from him for over eleven thousand years. The goddess was lucky he hadn't killed her over that little stunt. "Look, my private life is private. If that's the only topic you're interested in, I'm leaving."
She slapped lightly at his knee. "Don't be so testy all the time."