Page 1040 of One More Kiss

Chapter6

I gotto my feet as soon as Jett left the room.

“Chocolate mug cake?” Clara sounded hopeful.

I hadn’t intended to make mug cake, not right now, but I couldn’t let her down.

“Sure,” I said. It wouldn’t take long.

I went to the pantry and collected the ingredients - flour, cocoa, vanilla, almond milk, and the vegan choc chips. The pantry was surprisingly well stocked, but then, Jett was a cookie maker so it made sense. It was a surprising talent for a guy who was so fit.

I dug in the kitchen drawers, unearthing a measuring cup set, and used it to get the correct combination of ingredients into a fresh coffee mug. No mixing bowls for me. The less washing up the better.

I quickly combined everything and put the mug in the microwave to cook. I knew this recipe by heart. There was a chance I made it way too often.

“Are you sure you don’t need eggs?” Clara was watching me carefully, no doubt to make sure there wasn’t any dairy going into the concoction. “I can eat eggs, you know. It’s just milk I have a problem with.”

I opened the microwave and retrieved the mug, handing it to Clara with a spoon. “Nope. No eggs.”

Clara dug in and sighed. “This is delicious. Aren’t you having one?”

I shook my head. “No. I’ve got something I need to do. Are you right to clean up the kitchen? And if Jett comes back, tell him I went to the bathroom.”

“What are you up to? You shouldn’t go snooping, you know.” Clara scraped the bottom of her mug with her spoon. “You should stay here and make me another one of these.”

I laughed. “You can make your own now. It’s easy. And I promise I’m not snooping.” Stealing and snooping were two entirely different things.

It didn’t escape me that Clara would probably think that stealing was worse than snooping, but what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her.

I left the room before she could argue any further and went along the hallway, further into the building. This was my chance to steal back the gem. If it didn’t work I’d have to resort to seducing Jett. And I had a feeling he’d see straight through any attempt just the way he’d seen through my shadow magic.

I was on the wrong side of the building so I kept walking until I reached a fork in the hallway. I turned left, hoping this corridor would take me where I wanted to go.

I walked for what seemed for ever, making turn after turn and getting hopelessly lost. There was nobody here and I wondered about that. I guessed it was after 5pm by now and the staff would have left for the day. Our meeting with Jett had been mid-afternoon and we’d spent a lot of time on the run, trying to evade the shooters.

The place was huge, and I’d almost given up hope of finding the right room when I came across an area I recognized. The night I’d broken in I’d climbed in the window. But I’d checked the hallway outside the room to make sure I was alone. I recognized the ugly green vase filled with fake flowers that had been sitting outside the door. Thank goodness, I’d finally found the Jett’s office, complete with a huge timber desk and the safe in the corner. It was so much easier to break in from the outside.

I used the sleeve of Jett’s flannel shirt to open the door. No fingerprints. Thank goodness it was unlocked. I guess it didn’t need to be locked when the safe inside was one of the best money could buy, protected by both magic and a combination code.

I stepped into the room and approached the safe cautiously.

My shadow magic counteracted the protection spell.

Most magic become null and void around me and I had no idea why. Aunt Joey thought it was to do with my ancestry, but we really didn’t know. All I cared about right now was the fact that it worked.

The safe didn’t appear any different than it had two nights earlier. It looked like it belonged in a bank, with a huge metal wheel in the center which had to be spun first in one direction, then the other, stopping at pre-set numbers each turn.

I tried the combination from the other night, hoping against hope that it hadn’t been changed.

It didn’t work.

I hadn’t really expected that it would, but a girl could dream.

Looked like I was going to have to do this the hard way.

I dug my lock picking kit from the special pocket on the knife sheath. I never left home without it. Fortunately the pocket was secure, and had stood up to the adventures with the bullets and the wire fence.

For the second time in two days I pulled out the tools of the trade and got to work.

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