The Third Circle (Arcane Society Book 04) Read Free

turned to face her, black coat whipping around his boots. “We’ve got half an hour, less if someone else comes up those stairs.”
    She wriggled her fingers, trying to free her hand. “Go on without me, then. My safety is not your affair.”
    “Have you lost your senses? We have to get out of here.”
    “I came here to recover a certain relic. It is nearby. I am not leaving without it.”
    “You are a professional thief?”
    He did not sound shocked. Most likely because he, too, was in the business of theft. It was the only logical explanation for his presence here in the gallery.
    “Delbridge has a certain relic that belongs to me,” she explained. “It was stolen from my family several years ago. I had given up hope of finding it tonight, but now that I know it is close at hand I cannot leave without looking for it.”
    The hypnotist went very still. “How do you know that the relic you seek is nearby?”
    She hesitated, uncertain how much to tell him. “I cannot explain, but I am very sure.”
    “Where is it?”
    She turned slightly, seeking the source of the small pulses of energy. A short distance away stood a large, elaborately carved wooden cabinet.
    “There,” she said.
    She gave one last tug on her wrist. This time he let her go. She hurried to the cabinet and examined it closely. There were two doors secured by a lock.
    “As I expected,” she said.
    She reached into her pocket, removed the lock pick that Adam Harrow had given her and went to work.
    The process did not go nearly as smoothly as it had when Adam had supervised her practice sessions. The lock did not yield.
    The hypnotist watched in silence for a moment.
    Perspiration dampened her forehead. She angled the pick in a slightly different direction and tried again.
    “Something tells me you haven’t had a lot of experience at this sort of thing,” the hypnotist said neutrally.
    His condescension jolted her.
    “On the contrary, I’ve had a great deal of practice,” she said through her teeth.
    “But evidently not in the dark. Stand aside. Let me see what I can do.”
    She wanted to argue but common sense prevailed. The truth was, her practice with the lock pick consisted of only a couple of days of hurried experimentation. She thought she had displayed considerable aptitude, but Adam had warned her that picking a lock when one was feeling pressured was a different matter entirely.
    The ticking of the clock on the table was very loud in the quiet gallery. Time was running out. She glanced at the frozen figure waiting to come out of his trance.
    Reluctantly she stepped back from the cabinet. Mutely she held out the pick.
    “I brought my own,” the hypnotist said.
    He produced a small, slender strip of metal from the pocket of his coat, fitted it into the lock and went to work. Almost immediately Leona heard a faint snick.
    “Got it,” he whispered.
    To Leona’s ears, the squeak of the hinges was as loud as a train. Anxiously she looked back along the gallery toward the main staircase, but there was no shifting of the shadows at that end of the room; no footsteps reverberated along the gallery.
    The hypnotist looked into the depths of the cabinet. “It appears that we both came here on the same errand tonight.”
    A new and different chill went through her. “You came here to steal my crystal?”
    “I suggest we save the topic of the legal ownership of the stone for another time.”
    Outrage sparked, overriding her fear. “That crystal is mine.”
    She started forward, intending to retrieve the crystal, but the hypnotist blocked her path. He reached into the cabinet.
    It was difficult to make out his movements in the darkness, but she knew immediately when disaster struck. She heard his sudden, sharp exhalation followed by a low, muffled cough. Simultaneously she caught a faint whiff of some unfamiliar chemical.
    “Get back,” he ordered.
    There was so much intensity in the command that she found herself obeying without stopping