But I had awaited this afternoon with a feeling of anticipation, knowing that Vincent would be meeting me here at Papy’s where I was working for the afternoon. After the break-in, Papy had tried to cancel my gallery-sitting sessions, saying it was too dangerous. But I convinced him that it was doubtful the thieves would return in broad daylight . . . if they dared return at all.
Ambrose dropped me off after school, leaving only after I reassured him that Vincent was arriving at any moment. Papy had invited him to come see the new Greek war helmet he was bringing back from his appointment, using Vincent’s interest in ancient weaponry as an excuse to invite him to the gallery. But I knew that neither of them needed the enticement. They genuinely enjoyed the other’s company.
I wandered around the gallery, looking at the cleanup job Papy had done since Monday. He had immediately replaced the glass cases, but it would take a while for him to restock them with new inventory. The doorbell rang, and I skipped to the desk to push the button for the door release. But the huge smile that spread across my face quickly faded as I saw that it wasn’t Vincent coming through the door. It was two men I had never seen before. And I could tell, before they even said a word, that they were numa.
They were on me in an instant, crossing the gallery in a blink of an eye. They didn’t touch me. They didn’t need to. They just loomed.
“What do you want?” I asked. The words came out as a squeak: My throat was squeezed shut as effectively as if a boa constrictor was looped around my neck. I instinctively glanced around for something to fight them with, but there was nothing within grabbing distance, and I doubted I could get very far before they would stop me.
“We want to know what she told you.”
“Who?” I asked, confused.
“You know who. The old lady healer. What did she tell you about the Champion?”
I blinked in sudden comprehension. “She didn’t tell me anything about the Champion.”
“We know you talked to her. And now her son says she’s gone and he doesn’t know where.”
“Although we’re keeping an eye on the place to make sure he’s not lying,” sneered the other, as if this were one big joke.
My fear evaporated and was replaced by fury. “You better not hurt them!” I growled.
They both stared at me, surprised by my outburst. And then, with a low, evil laugh, one stepped forward and grabbed me by the wrist. Hard. “We want to know what she told you.”
Just then I heard the lock click, and Papy walked into the gallery, leaving the door open behind him, the huge box in his arms blocking his view. He walked across the room and, setting it down next to the armory display, placed his hat on top and began to shuffle his coat off.
“Papy,” I called, my voice high-pitched and unnatural.
He looked up and froze. “Take your hands off my granddaughter,” he barked, and began moving toward us.
“Don’t move, old man,” said the one holding me, and tightened his grip on my arm.
My grandfather stopped, and his eyes narrowed. “You were the ones on the surveillance tapes,” he said. “You’ve already robbed my store. What do you want now?”
“All your granddaughter has to do is tell us what we want to know and we will leave without injury to either of you.”
“No,” said Papy sternly. “You will leave now or I will be forced to call the police.” He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket.
“That won’t be necessary,” came a deep voice from behind us. Vincent stepped through the open door, his face like the sky before a devastating storm. My captor’s partner threw himself across the room, and then staggered backward as Vincent’s fist connected with his jaw. He fell and lay motionless on the floor.
The numa holding me jerked me to his side, his hand clamped around my arm like a vise. “We’re just having a little chat with your girlfriend. No need for you to get involved.”
“Let her go,” Vincent said in a lowered voice, his quick, urgent glance at me piercing my heart with its concern. “Let both of them go. Anything you have to talk about can be discussed alone with me.”
“But you see, we don’t want you,” the numa said, his lip curling in mockery. “Not this time.”
“What issue do you have with the girl?” Vincent growled.
“You mean, besides the fact that she destroyed our former leader? But that’s of no importance now. She has information that we want.” The numa raised his free hand to my neck. “So I would advise that you stay where you are while she answers my question—or my hand might just slip.”
The feel of his skin against mine made me want to puke. With a gesture prompted more from disgust than from fear, I struggled and managed to kick him hard in the shin, but he only laughed and grabbed me tighter, pulling me firmly toward the back of the gallery, away from Vincent.
The metallic sound of a sword leaving its sheath split the air and brought my captor to a halt. Vincent’s eyes burned like coals as he lifted an evil-looking saber.