Even Vampires Get The Blues

His eyelids veiled, the long fingers of his hand toying with the sherry glass that sat on a small table next to him. "It is treasured first for its artwork, second for the historical importance, and third and most importantly for the secrets said to be contained within it, yes."

"How much is it worth?" I asked, wondering why a demon lord would want the statue. Perhaps because it was valuable?

"Let us say that I am willing to offer you twenty-five thousand pounds for it, a fraction of its true worth."

I tried not to look stunned. Twenty-five thousand pounds! "What sort of fraction?"

"Its true value has never been calculated," Caspar said with a slight shrug. "But I can assure you that there are many who would pay almost anything to get it."

"And you?" I asked, relishing my role as double agent. "How much would you pay to get it?"

"I said I would pay you twenty-five thousand pounds."

I smiled and waited. He didn't disappoint me. "Naturally that could be considered a retainer. I would be willing to pay another twenty-five thousand upon delivery."

"I see. Well, thank you for the information," I said, gathering my things as I stood. "I will be in touch, I'm sure."

Caspar frowned. It wasn't a nice expression. "You have not said whether you were taking the job or not."

"Haven't I?" I tried my best to look innocent. "I'm sorry for the confusion—I've already been hired to find the statue for someone else."

"But I will pay you much more than he will—"

"That doesn't matter," I said, starting for the door. "I don't betray my clients' confidences like that, not for any amount of money. Thanks for the sherry and the conversation. You're right—it is a lost art."

"Pilar—" Caspar nodded toward me. His henchman leaped to his feet and started toward me.

"I wouldn't be so trusting of your little bullyboy," I tossed over my shoulder as I reached for the door. "Earlier, he—"

I didn't see it coming, didn't even have an inkling. My elf senses, usually so sharp (if not accurate) didn't warn me at all. Pilar grabbed me just as I was opening the door. One moment I was there about to tattle on Pilar to his boss, the next a massive wave of energy slammed into me, so powerful it knocked me clear out of reality.

Chapter 13

Um… Paen?… Paen?… Helloooo?

Sam?

Oh, good, I was hoping you didn't have your mental voice mail turned on.

My what?

Nothing. Little joke.

Very little.

Yeah, well, you try making a joke when you're caught between realities, and see how well you do.

A pause filled my head. You're caught between realities?

Yes. I seem to be stuck here. I was wondering if there was something you could do to help me out?

His silence was telling. Where are you?

I don't think I'm anywhere, to be honest. I seem to be nowhere, caught in some sort of a web between reality and the beyond.

Then how do you expect me to help you?

We have to pass through this to get to the beyond. I was hoping you'd merge with me, and that would pull me out. Kind of a reverse of what I did with you earlier.

Or it might just pull me in.

True. I hesitated, hating to ask him for anything, but not seeing any other choice. I'd been stuck here for the last couple of hours as I tried everything I knew to get out, to no avail. Can you help me, please?

He didn't answer, but I knew the moment he merged with me, the two of us like separate pools of mercury forming into one glorious entity. Joined as we were, I could feel everything he felt, and what it was he was thinking.

And he could do likewise.

He had to know I was trying to avoid confronting the emotions that swirled around in me, a vortex of love and anger and pain. But he said nothing as the merging pulled me back into reality, separating us into two people again.

I found myself standing in my office at the window, blinking at the bright afternoon sun that poured in and spilled into a warm pool on the floor. Thanks, Paen. I appreciate that.

I wish to talk to you about what's happened.

Sorry, can't right now. Things to do, places to go, people to curse.

What?

Nothing. Another little joke.

Sam—