Page 13 of Violet Legacy

“And how many of them do you know?”

“Including you?” Rieka held out her hand as if she was counting. “One.”

“I should be honored.”

“Some days, I just don’t have a filter.”

There were too many people who lived by the diplomatic game, saying what he wanted to hear. Rieka was refreshing. “Never apologize for who you are.”

“Since you don’t mind me being blunt,” Rieka started, the color had finally returned to her face. “How old are you?”

It was an unusual question, but then again, humans were obsessed with age and numbers. Despite Rieka’s eye color, she had grown up a human. Dante had not decided if her parents had done her a disservice or not. Hybrids existed in a precarious position in both Atlantean and human societies. Many didn’t fit into either world, no matter how much they tried. “724 years old.”

Rieka leaned forward as if she was about to share a secret. The gleam in her gaze was almost contagious if he were that way inclined. “Going to be honest, you don’t look a day over three hundred.”

Dante bit back a laugh at the absurdity of their conversation. Rieka continued to surprise him with how she thought—she did not play the game of the elites. Outside the circle of his close confidants, it was not a situation he often found himself in.

The patter of heels on the soft carpet caught his attention. Sypha stood near him, their gloved hands clasped around a tablet.

“I have a meeting I need to attend.”

Rieka nodded. Disappointment flashed across her face. She was an open book.

He picked up the tablet and entered the passcode before handing it over to Rieka. “About seventy years ago, the vault’s paper repository was digitized. You have access to every item that has been cataloged within the vault.”

“Thank you.” Rieka smiled, warmth emanating from her.

A whisper of desire ran through him. The thanks were sincere. “Don’t thank me yet. I will have questions about what the artifacts are from your perspective.”

Riekastaredatthetablet, not paying an iota of attention to what was in front of her as she convinced herself she was still a professional, even if she was temporarily unemployed. But she was working on that. She was not watching Dante walk away to his meeting. She definitely wasn’t noticing the way the cut of his shirt emphasized his lean, muscular physique. The cough next to her made her face heat as she clutched the tablet on her lap.

“Breakfast is served,” Talik said as he placed a bowl of fruit in front of her before he bowed, the movement far more graceful than she would have expected. “Coffee is on the way.”

“What do you do for Dante?”

What was wrong with her? Ever since the first meeting with Dante, the filter between her mouth and brain had taken a vacation. The knot in her stomach continued to grow. A sixth sense was quietly making itself known, but she didn’t have time to delve into it or wonder why it was starting now. After countless hours of therapy, she still hadn’t gotten over her aversion to flying. At least she wasn’t in the fetal position on the floor. Yet.

“Jack-of-all-trades, but officially the operations officer.” Talik sat across the aisle, shrugging his jacket off as he smiled at Rieka. “And sometimes air host.”

Rieka stifled a giggle. It hadn’t taken long to see that the dramatic playboy persona was just that. There was an intensity within Talik that was just beneath the surface.

“Thank you.”

Talik waved his hand. Black nail polish gleamed in the light, the matte-black ring on his pinkie finger the only other embellishment he wore. He settled into the chair as he pulled dark-tinted glasses from his pocket. “Enjoy your light reading.”

For the second time that morning, a pang of envy stabbed her as Talik fell asleep instantly. She stretched out her legs as she picked at the grapes. Work would distract her for the next couple of hours, but she needed music. She rummaged through her backpack until she touched the familiar shape of her headphones. The loud tones of mid-twentieth-century heavy metal transported her to her happy place as the drums drowned out the real world. The white noise allowed her to focus on the files.

Rieka looked up. Talik appeared to be deep asleep, his dark sunglasses slumped low on his nose and arms across his chest. He didn’t seem to be a particularly good guard, or operations officer, she corrected herself. Maybe within the plane he didn’t see the point of being vigilant. Any sort of attack would come from outside, as improbable as it sounded.

Rieka scrunched up the napkin on her lap and threw it toward the sleeping Atlantean. She aimed for the chair next to him. A hand shot out and grabbed it out of the air.

Not asleep.

Talik lowered his glasses; his black eyes locked onto her as he slowly shook his head.

Rieka smiled sweetly at him before she returned to scanning the images. It didn’t take long to find what she was looking for: the image Dante had shown her in their original meeting. Vandana wearing amour. Proof that she hadn’t hallucinated in the temple.

The queen stared back at her defiantly. Even etched in shades of black and gray, Rieka could sense the fury that was barely contained within the image.

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