Ever After (Rachel Morgan)

I’m not leaving until I have the rings in my possession,” I said, haughty. Damn it, Ivy, where are you? “I can’t believe you misplaced them.”
    “Who did you say you were?” she asked, and we both looked up as the door beeped.
    Ivy, I thought in relief, then choked when Nick walked in, cool and calm in a pinstripe gray suit and a blue tie. I almost didn’t recognize him with his hair slicked back and his shiny shoes. Because of him, Ceri and Pierce are dead. It was all I could do not to crawl over the tables between us. I clenched my teeth when our eyes met and he smiled.
    The woman set the receiver back in the cradle. “And who are you?” she asked, pushing her glasses farther up her nose.
    He beamed, reaching behind his coat for his wallet. “Nick Sparagmos. FIB,” he said, and I couldn’t help my bark of laughter. “Thank God you found her,” he added, grimacing at me and flipping his wallet open to show an ID. He closed it before Marcie could do more than lean to look, stuffing it away where he’d gotten it from. “Hands in fists on the top of your head,” he said to me. “Don’t make this hard on yourself.”
    Why, are we surrounded? I thought sourly, but he was between me and the door. Ku’Sox might drop into him, and then I’d be banned from the museum for blowing it up or setting it on fire, or . . . something. I slid away from the table I was leaning against. “You touch me, and you die, Nick.” Damn it, how was I going to get the rings now? Not only were they gone, but if I took my second choice, he’d know and tell Ku’Sox.
    The woman looked from me to Nick. “Someone better tell me what’s going on,” she threatened, and I leaned back, gesturing for Nick to say something, dying to find out, myself.
    “This is Le’Arch, the notorious art thief from the United Kingdom,” Nick said, pointing at me as he came in. “Have you searched her yet?”
    “Oh. My. God,” I said, not sure I’d heard him right. “Nick, please tell me you did not just make an anagram of my name. Please. Just please.”
    His jaw clenched, and he took another step forward. He was almost far enough from the door that I had a good chance of making it through, but without the rings—which were not even here anymore—I was dead anyway. “She has a history of claiming to be agents of big corporations and walking away with priceless artifacts,” he said, and the woman’s hand came away from the phone.
    How long had he been listening at the door, and where in hell were Jenks and Ivy?
    Well, Nick wasn’t the only one who could tell pretty stories. “Marcie, this jerk is my old boyfriend. He doesn’t work for the FIB, and he’s been stalking me all week. The man is a thief.”
    Nick stiffened. “ I’m a thief?” he said, looking odd in his new clothes as he advanced another step. “I’m not the one stealing ancient elven artifacts to break the ley lines. You are a menace, and I’m trying to stop you.”
    “How dare you blame me for that!” I shouted. “I’m trying to stop him!” His jaw clenched, and I turned to Marcie. The woman hadn’t picked up the phone, but she was ready to. “Marcie, I’m sorry,” I said, still trying to turn this into a stalker boyfriend issue. “I’m going to file a restraining order as soon as I get out of here. He doesn’t work for the FIB, and he’s lying to you to get me in trouble with my boss. If I don’t get those rings out of here, I’m a dead woman.” True enough.
    Nick made an exasperated sound when Marcie looked at him with doubt, starting to believe me. “Neither of you move.”
    “Has she taken any pieces yet?” Nick said, but it sounded desperate. “What rings did she ask after?”
    Marci’s eyes narrowed, her belief swinging back to him. “Riffletic’s.”
    Nick leaned to see the ring case. “There’s a pair missing.”
    “There is not!” I said, affronted, but Marcie had already pulled away from her corner, rushing to look. “No!” I exclaimed when she lowered her head to see and Nick grabbed a heavy vase. It hit the back of her head without breaking, and the woman hung for a heartbeat, eyes wide as she slowly collapsed.
    “You son of a bitch!” I said, lunging forward to catch her, my bare feet burning on the carpet squares as I struggled with her weight. “What in hell are you doing? Now it’s assault!”
    The door beeped, and Nick barely got out of the way as Ivy yanked it open. “I say we return the favor and get