Knight's Curse Read Online Free PDF Page B

might be?”
    “The butler did it.”
    He stared down his nose at me, his mouth pulled severely down at the corners.
    “I’m serious. I told the butler about the Kakiemon porcelain piece and the Edlefelt oil I’d appraised at several thousands of dollars. He was very excited when I told him there was a twin to the vase, and if he could find it, the pair would be worth a fortune. I figured his greed would distract him while I stole the hand, and it worked.”
    Gavin nodded. “Yet you failed to bring me the saint’s hand.”
    Well, shit. I thought I could talk my way out of whatever trouble I’d put myself in. It had worked before, but this time I’d be punished, and I had a pretty good idea how. Sweat trickled down the sides of my face and I could tell by the way Gavin narrowed his eyes that he knew how close I was to shifting. I wouldn’t beg and he knew that, too. He waited to see how long I could last.
    Looking down at my feet, I drew out an already long pause before asking, “Did Mr. Grandville call the police?”
    “Of course.” Cool as ever, Gavin resumed his pacing. As always, he had the upper hand. “Not that it matters to us. The fake address on your business cards led to an empty lot, and the phone number was for a voice-mail service where neither of us can be traced.”
    All his loose ends were tied in neat little bows, but this time I had no package to deliver.
    “Samuel?” Gavin glanced at his butler. “My daughter and I will be in the basement study. Prepare us some refreshments. Cappuccino and biscotti.”
    “I hate biscotti,” I said, hiding my anxiety with petulance.
    “Forgive me. Make that chocolate-chip cookies.” He waved a dismissive hand at the new guy—Samuel—and gestured for me to precede him downstairs to the basement. “Chalice, you and I need to talk.”
    I started down the stairs, my mounting apprehension like a silent beast crouched low in my belly.
    Cold as a dungeon, the stone basement always reminded me of something from an old movie set. I compared a lot of what I experienced to movies because what I learned from film and TV were about all I really knew of the world. I usually worked alone, had no friends and even my training had been solitary, except for the instructors who came and went on a daily basis. My college education came from CDs and DVDs; there had been no ceremony when I received my Masters in art history.
    Gavin had purposely kept me secluded, claiming that my sensory disability made it necessary to limit my exposure to the outside world. His excuse was his concern for my health and safety. Yeah, right. The man was a sadist. And he owned me.
    When I rounded the corner into the enormous study, my blood went still in my veins. Gavin’s gargoyle, Shui, sat hunched on a perch in the center of the room and he gazed at me with hungry eyes. He was about the height and width of a bar-size refrigerator, his gray, scaly skin appearing dull in the dim light, his bat wings folded back but quivering with tension. Cocking his head, the blue baboon face sneered while issuing a low hiss. The thing looked a lot like a flying monkey from the Wizard of Oz, only bigger and ten times uglier.
    I hesitated, repulsed by the monster that would save me from becoming exactly like him.
    Jutting my chin at the gargoyle, I said to Gavin, “He looks bigger than he did three days ago.”
    Gavin glanced at me, then at the abomination on its perch. He lifted both eyebrows and gave me a curious look. “Perhaps that’s because he’s eaten recently. Haven’t you, Shui?”
    The gargoyle hissed again, only louder this time.
    Well, there was my answer to what had happened to the other butler. Lucky for me, I wasn’t on the menu.
    I’d only tested my bond with Shui once, about three years ago. I had no way of knowing for sure that going beyond seventy-two hours without any contact with Shui would turn me into a beast as ugly and mean as him. Where was the proof? The tattoo on my neck had