To Hell and Back by L.B. Gilbert

Chapter Twenty-Six

Valeria waited until Rhys had gone down to the morning training session before leaving the house and taking the path to his private treasure cave.

Her host had explained about the bit of dragon magic he insisted wasn’t magic—how his people created blinds and snares and small physic traps that would lead people away from any place they chose to protect.

Technically, it didn’t matter that Rhys had brought her here once. Their little tricks were adaptive. They adjusted on their own, so the path down would have changed, making it impossible to navigate despite the short distance between the front door of the house and the mouth of the cave.

But she found it anyway. It had been easy. All she had to do was stop trying.

Valeria had come prepared this time, having raided the supply closet until she found a flashlight, one of those long, barreled-heavy ones that conveniently doubled as a weapon.

Also in her pockets were two sticks of chalk and a zip lock bag full of salt, as well as a bottle of water in case she was down there longer than she planned.

Once inside, she ignored the mountains of glittering gold and the displays of necklaces and crowns, except for one.

The ruby necklace was draped on one of those headless busts museums and jewelry stores used to display their special pieces. It was set in an alcove by itself, no other treasure within five feet of it.

Setting the flashlight down on the floor, Valeria fetched the nearest torch, lighting it with a match. It took a few tries, the material stubborn to light. Apparently, it was best suited to those who could breathe fire. It took six attempts, but the damn thing lit. She dropped the wooden handle into the sconce just above the necklace.

“Would it have killed him to install track lighting?” she asked, shaking her head.

If Rhys wanted to enjoy his treasure, that would have been the way to go.

The stones glittered in the fire, their muted twinkle—she needed more than one torch—mocking her.

“Just do it,” she muttered, reaching out to take the necklace, but she hesitated.

Damn. Her hands were sweaty. Wiping them on her jeans, Valeria rubbed her fingertips together, hovering over the necklace.

One. Two. Three. Closing her eyes, she snatched the necklace…but nothing happened. No sirens, no flashing lights.

“That’s all right then.” What had she been expecting? It wasn’t as if Rhys would have wired the bust with an alarm when so many other precious objects had been left lying around. Not even his version of the Iranian crown jewels had an alarm.

As for the rest of her plan, that was the reason she had brought the chalk. She put the necklace back for a second, then reached into her pocket.

“If you had taken any other piece—”

Screaming her head off, Valeria jumped a foot in the air. She turned around, gasping for breath, her hand over her heart.

Inclining his head, Naveen shot her a look of frustration with a soupçon of apology. “As I was saying, had you taken any other piece, I would have hauled you to the dungeon. But you’ll be hard-pressed to find anyone here who would fault you for taking that necklace.”

Valeria glanced down at the confection of rubies and antique silver. It was warm in her hand, as if it had just come off a living body, and not a display bust.

“Most everyone believes it’s yours anyway,” Naveen continued. “All you have to do is ask Rhys for it.”

“Nope,” she said firmly, widening her eyes for emphasis. “Don’t want it.”

Naveen raised a brow.

“I don’t,” she snapped. “But I need to use it.”

Rhys’s second stared down his nose at her. “So that’s not a sack in your pocket?”

She huffed, realizing he expected her to steal the necklace because she felt entitled to it.

Nothing could be farther from the truth. This belonged to a dead woman, Rhys’ true love. But Valeria would use it to figure out what happened to that girl because that was a question that needed to be answered before she did another damn thing.

Rolling her eyes, she reached into her front pocket, pulling out and raising a piece of chalk.

Kneeling, she began to draw a circle, embellishing it with runes and symbols.

“You’re doing a spell?”

She glanced up to find Naveen frowning. Dragons tended to get irritated when someone failed to meet their expectations, good or bad.

“I met a psychometrist once, but it was a very long time ago.”

She waited, but he didn’t fill in the blanks. Rhys had not told him. Of course he hadn’t told him. He promised.

Valeria said a little prayer of thanks. Because if Naveen knew what she was about to do, he would stop her. Fortunately for her, Rhys’ flawless integrity was going to help her now.

Naveen tilted his head the tiniest fraction. “What is a psychometrist?”

Shuffling on her knees, she kept drawing symbols along the diameter. “It’s someone who can see the past associated with an object. All they have to do is touch it.”

Naveen straightened, his expression of disinterest disappearing. “That would be useful in determining the provenance of treasure.”

One-track mind, these dragons.

“Yes, well, let me see if I can recall the power first.”

“I don’t know what that means.” More annoyance.

So, she explained—part of it. Valeria left out the bit where recalling a past power hurt her. But Naveen was damnably perceptive. It was no doubt why Rhys had made him second.

He raised his brow, his mouth settling into stubborn lines. “Is this safe?” he asked when she sat in the clear spot in the center of her rune circle.

“Um, no,” she said, deciding to be honest. “But I’ve been giving it a lot of thought since I accidentally teleported the baby. I think this protection circle should help me, which is why I’ve combined it with one for improving memory—well, extracting a memory would be a more accurate way of putting it. Regardless, this combination should do the trick, if I’ve calculated all the variables.”

She added the last symbols to the inside of the circle. All that was missing was the final flourish on the rune just in front of her.

Naveen was starting to look uncomfortable. “You make it sound like a mathematical equation.”

“It’s more like a chemical one, a recipe with the runes and sigils as ingredients.” She took a deep breath, reaching out for the last component.

Valeria stared at the ruby necklace in her hands for a long time.

Discomfited, Naveen took a step back. “I think I should get Rhys.”

Valeria shook her head. “Not yet. Wait a minute.”

“Why?”

She poised the chalk over the last rune. “Because this is either going to work right away or it’s not, and if it’s not, I’m going to need someone to carry me out of here.”

“But—”

“You can’t stop me,” she interrupted. “Otherwise, I’ll always feel like a thief, walking into this life that should have been hers.”

They stared at each other for a long moment, Naveen’s expression tight.

“I have to know,” she whispered.

The dragon hesitated, his feet moving as if he was contemplating rushing forward.

Valeria drew the final slash to complete the sigil before he could stop her, tossing the piece of chalk aside and taking hold of the necklace with both hands.

Two seconds later, she started screaming.