Page 143 of Nobody Told Me Thrift Shops Sell Stolen Dragon Heirlooms

“No.”

“Because he wants it?”

“Yes.”

“You’re making him spend money.”

“Yes.”

“That’s a little petty.”

“I prefer to call it strategy.”

“Petty strategy.”

He didn’t deny it.

I watched the next three lots with growing unease. Rafe pushed Dimitris on two items, withdrawing at precisely the point where Dimitris had to pay more than he wanted but not enough to stop him from continuing. Luke Gildstein tried for a set of silver ritual cups, won only when Dimitris didn’t bother to lift his paddle.

The auctioneer kept looking at Dimitris, but it wasn’t obvious enough for everyone to notice because their attention wasn’t on the auctioneer.

“Rafe,” I whispered.

“What?”

“The auctioneer is watching him.”

“Of course. He’s the dominant bidder tonight.”

“No. More than that.” I kept my eyes on the front. “He’s taking cues. When Dimitris hesitates, he slows down and repeats the bid. When Dimitris looks ready, he moves faster. He’s giving him room when he wants it and momentum when he doesn’t. He is making sure Dimitris gets what he wants.”

Rafe went very still.

I kept watching. “Maybe I’m wrong.”

“You’re not.”

“You don’t know that yet.”

“Let’s test it.”

Lot 26 was a landscape painting by a wolf shifter artist from the nineteenth century, all stormy sky and dark pine trees, with a stag hidden in the brush. Rafe’s attention sharpened.

“My father likes that painter,” he said.

The auctioneer opened bidding.

Rafe lifted his paddle.

“Thirty thousand from the room,” the auctioneer called, but his eyes had already moved past us.

Dimitris raised his paddle.

“Thirty-five.”

Rafe lifted his again.

The auctioneer looked toward Dimitris. “Forty?”