“I’m looking for tenth-century African artifacts.”
The Trader furrowed her eyebrows slightly. “Can you be more specific? Benin? Ghana? Egyptian?”
“Ethiopian,” Ben said. “Specifically, ceremonial or imperial headdresses or crowns from the late Aksumite Empire.”
The Trader pursed her lips. “Very specific. You do realize that much of the Aksumite treasury was raided in the late tenth century?”
“I do.”
“And many of the later antiquities, which likely contain the remaining Aksumite relics, were taken by the British.”
“Unfortunately, yes.”
The Trader said, “I know of an excellent collection of Aksumite gold coins that is available. Finest quality, and the seller is quite motivated.”
Gold coins? He could always interest Tenzin in that.
Keep on track, Ben.
“I realize I’m looking for something very specific.” He shifted slightly. “We are also more than happy to trade for information.”
“I see.” The Trader’s chin tilted up. “I can definitely reach out to contacts and possibly see what might not be on the market yet.”
“But for the right price…?”
She smiled. “For the right price, one can often obtain things that are not strictly for sale.”
“Thank you. We appreciate your discretion and your connections. I do have one other inquiry.”
The Trader spread her hands. “I am at your service.”
Ben kept his eyes on the woman and relayed the information exactly as Tenzin had told him. “What do you know about the collection of Trevor Blythe-Bickman?”
One eyebrow went up. “I know Mr. Blythe-Bickman’s family collection is quite extensive, and I do believe much of it was acquired in the Horn of Africa. His collection of Somali jewelry and gemstones is well known.”
“I’ve heard that. I also have reason to believe he has quite a good collection of Aksumite manuscripts.”
“It’s possible.” She took a moment to examine Ben. “I have not worked with Mr. Blythe-Bickman. His social circle and mine do not overlap.”
Meaning: I am not a billionaire tech bro with an overblown ego and an elevated opinion of my own IQ.
“I see.” Ben smiled. “We may have an interest in some of Mr. Blythe-Bickman’s collection.”
“Even those not currently on the market?” The corner of the Trader’s mouth turned up.
Trevor Blythe-Bickman was the heir to a massive British fortune who had made his home in San Francisco and also considered himself a technology guru. To his credit, he’d started some minor companies that had quickly been gobbled up by the titans of Silicon Valley, leaving him with both old and new money, a massive ego, and an enormous Tudor mansion in the exclusive Pacific Heights neighborhood of San Francisco.
Ben definitely wanted to rob him.
“As you said, for the right price, one can often obtain things that are not strictly for sale.” He leaned forward. “I think what we might be looking for is… information.”
The Trader smiled. “You’re in luck. I also deal in that.”
Tenzin leaned against the white-painted lighthouse on the tip of Point Reyes, waiting for the earth vampire to appear. She tucked her small frame into a shadow of the old structure and listened as the ocean crashed beneath her. The damp sea air permeated her shoulder-length hair; it hung like a heavy curtain around her face.
Tenzin remained on alert despite the cover of darkness. The location was only a short flight north of San Francisco, and she’d come seeking information from a problematic source.
Lucien Thrax appeared in the distance, steadily descending the many steps leading to the rocky promontory that jutted into the Pacific. The presence of another ancient progeny caused her feet to lift from the ground, the air drawn to her as her senses went into overdrive.
The earth vampire reached the base of the stairs and stopped, searching the darkness for her shadow. “I’m here, daughter of Zhang.”
Tenzin emerged from the dark fog. “Son of Saba.”
Lucien sighed, stuffed his hands in his pockets, and furrowed his eyebrows. “We’ve never been enemies, Tenzin. Why the formality?” He looked like a harried intellectual, not an ancient warrior turned modern healer. In reality, he was all those things. His stone-grey eyes, pale skin, and dark hair told humans he was a tall European in early middle age, but he was the last son of Saba, most ancient vampire known to their kind, mother of their race, and the woman who had manipulated Tenzin’s partner into losing his human life.
“You are aware of the current status of Benjamin?” she asked.
Lucien looked annoyed. “I know Ben is a vampire now, Tenzin. It’s been… What? Three years? We were at his aunt and uncle’s house for Christmas. My mate and Ben’s aunt are practically family.”
She flew closer. “And do you know how that came about?”
Lucien’s eyes grew wary. “I have heard… whispers.”
“From your mother’s people?”
“From Alitea. I wasn’t certain what was true or not. You know how rumors can fly in vampire courts.”
Lucien’s mother was head of the Council of Alitea that ruled the Mediterranean, much of Europe, the Middle East, and North Africa. Tenzin’s father was the oldest of the Eight Immortals who ruled East Asia from Penglai Island. They were both children of power and politics, who knew that rumors could carry lies as easily as truth but were more often somewhere in the middle.
“She orchestrated it, Lucien. I heard it from her own soldier’s mouth. She gave the order; she took his choice from him.” Tenzin had always had every intention of persuading Ben into immortality, but she’d wanted him to choose it. In the end, he had not, and Tenzin had made the choice for him. The rift it had caused led to over two years of resentment they had only recently overcome.
Lucien took a deep breath. “I’m disappointed but not surprised. You know I have little to no influence over my mother, Tenzin. I don’t know what you want me to—”
“She wronged him. She stole his life after he saved yours.” Ben had once pulled Lucien from the sunlight, saving his immortal life and allowing Saba to heal him.
“I know.” Lucien looked more than embarrassed; he looked pained. “I’m sure she doesn’t see it that way,” he said. “Saba doesn’t think like us; you know this.”
Tenzin said nothing.
“Does Ben know?” Lucien asked. “About my mother?”
“No.”
“He needs to know, Tenzin.” Lucien shook his head. “Don’t make the mistakes I have. Don’t try to hide the truth from the ones you love, even if you think it’s for their own good.”
“He can’t…” She took a breath. “He’s powerful, Lucien, but compared to Saba—”
“There is no comparison.”
The ancient mother was more of an elemental force than an individual power. No one knew when she had come into being, not even Saba herself. Her elemental force could literally reshape the earth and wipe out their kind if she wanted it.
“Give him a little credit for wisdom,” Lucien said. “Ben is the son of Giovanni Vecchio; he knows what discipline is, and he deserves to know.”