Page 44 of Artifacts

The caress started out reminding Darrell of their last night together when they’d sixty-nined and he’d led and Aldric had followed.Had copied, even.But now Aldric took the lead, sweeping his tongue into Darrell’s mouth, searching the recesses. He also broke the kiss, in his own time, leaving Darrell alone.

“That was good.”

Darrell was glad the light was enough to see Aldric’s smile.

“But it’s going to take more than that. It’s going to—” Aldric broke off and clutched Darrell. “Did you hear that? Please tell me I imagined it.”

“I wish I could, babe.” Darrell pulled Aldric in tight to whisper in his ear, “But I can’t, because you didn’t.” The noise came again—from the small entrance lobby just inside the main door, Darrell estimated. He’d been half-expecting it, anyway. “Someone’s breaking in.” He stood, trying to work out what the thuds and bangs could be. The light outside in the corridor went off with atingand small gleams of emergency lights came on. He’d seen the strips along the floor and high on the walls, and now saw the actual glow of them in here. He stumbled a little as Aldric, now on his feet too, clutched him.

“I thought this plan was stupid because it didn’t work,” Aldric whispered, “but now Iknowit’s stupid because it did work.”

“Here.” Darrell twisted and slid his backup gun free of his shoulder holster. “Take this. No, take it,” he urged when Aldric shook his head. “I’ve got mine.” He pulled that out too.

“It’s not that. I can’t use one.”

“You can’t—?” Darrell shook his head. “Hold the gun like this.” He curled Aldric’s fingers around the Glock. “You’ve seen one used, right?”

“They were firing them a lot in the movie we saw the other night. Well, what we saw of it…” Aldric rasped, his hands shaking as he held the weapon.

As dire as things were, Darrell had to smile at that. “Good choice then, huh? And I nearly chose mini-golf for our date. If you have to, just point and shoot. The Glock’ll do the rest.”

“Darrell.” Aldric licked his lips, and Darrell wanted to chase Aldric’s tongue with his own. “I’m glad you’re here with me.”

“I am, too.” The thought of Aldric going through this alone, even though he’d set it in motion, was frightening. “I wish this wasn’t happening,” he muttered. He wished instead that he had time and the tools to sort through all the stuff he’d told Aldric he needed to. There was a lot of it, and it was all twisted together, his upbringing and family beliefs casting a long shadow over everything, from his choice of career to the way he lived his life.Compartmentalized. Not living it fully.

Digging down into the past was complicated, re-evaluating the present was tough and reshaping a possible future was terrifying. Fear of the unknown was strong. At least he knew his family and his place in it. Would speaking honestly and openly to them about the kind of life he wanted mean cutting ties with them? And what about his job?

Noises at the door brought his focus to the here and now, and the clear and present danger coming at him and Aldric. “Where’s the Buckman stuff?” he mouthed to Aldric, who pointed to the long shelf running the length of the right wall. Darrell signaled to Aldric to move to the other side of the room and crouch behind a stack. If Aldric had asked why that one, he’d have explained that it was far enough from the door that whoever was coming in wouldn’t see them unless they searched the room, and close enough to the door for them to duck from row to row and make escape relatively easy.

He checked that he could see through gaps in the items and through spaces in the stacks themselves. A box had been placed against the wall not far from the end of their row, so Darrell grabbed at it to heave it in front of them for extra cover, finding it heavier than he’d expected. He wondered what it contained.

“They don’t have a key card, do they? And they don’t know the code. How will they get in?” Aldric breathed.

“They cut the power.” Darrell made sure his flashlight was ready. “Any backup that came on will be weaker, so the locks are easier to disable. Or they could have paid off the guard for entrance.”

Or wrench off the locks, he amended a second later, interpreting the noises just outside. The place must have safeguards, such as alarms that went off when any break-in was attempted, so anyone wanting in would have to work quickly—getting in, getting what they came for and getting away before any response came. Darrell wasn’t pinning his hopes on the night guard he’d seen out front.

The door slid open with a metallic screech and stopped partway. Two black-clad figures took over from the reluctant mechanism and forced it most of the way to the side, then entered. For all the crap about the curse, or haunting, or ghosts, they were definitely human and, Darrell thought, familiar. Aldric’s poke to his side confirmed that he recognized them too—and caught Darrell on a bruise the slightly shorter person had inflicted on his ribs. He gave a nod to show he understood. Were the crooks going to make this look supernatural too? Spray more pentagrams around? Smash things up?

The men paused, looking around. Darrell thought he knew why. They didn’t know where the stuff they were after was. Did they even know what it looked like? Maybe not, and the room’s shelves and units held a good amount of stuff. The taller of the two thieves said something, but not to his companion. He turned and spoke out into the corridor.Crap!How many more are in this gang?Darrell tightened his hold on his Smith & Wesson.

A third person entered the depository after the first two and stood between them, shining a flashlight along the shelves until the beam hit the items the crooks wanted. “Over there,” she directed.

She. Randa Buckman. Shit.Things fell into place like a ton of bricks. He’d felt her grieving widow act was just that and hadn’t believed in the ‘my dead husband is haunting and cursing things’ schtick. No wonder there’d been no damage to the main house, only the pool house—Randa valued the former too much to vandalize it.

Had she attempted to get the artifacts back from Intrinsic Value, that first evening, and smashed up what Aldric had been carrying in her rage before hiring these thugs? If so, she’d been the one to assault Aldric.

If Darrell was surprised, Aldric appeared to be more so. Startled, he pointed toward the figures standing a few feet away—pointed with the hand that held the gun and knocked the end of the barrel into the box Darrell had dragged in front of them. It wasn’t loud, as noises went, and not as loud as Randa’s thugs had been when forcing the door, but it was audible.

Aldric jolted backward, as if trying to get out of the way of the box, and stumbled. Before Darrell could grab him and steady him, he dropped his gun onto the floor with a clatter that echoed. Worse, in attempting to snatch it back up again, Aldric kicked it.

“Step forward. Slowly,” one of the thugs shouted, and Aldric, decent, law-abiding Aldric, obeyed, standing and stepping out from their cover then moving forward.

“No!” Darrell cried, seeing the man draw and aim. He dived in front of Aldric and the bullet that had been meant for Aldric hit Darrell in the chest instead, sending him spinning and crashing to the floor.

“Darrell!” screamed Aldric.

Neither Aldric’s cry nor the bullet to his chest stopped Darrell firing and hitting the guy with the gun. Darrell got him in the shoulder, making him drop his weapon and scream in pain. It also took him out of the game, much like Darrell, who lay gasping on his front, one hand pressed to his torso, feeling for damage.

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