Page 20 of Xavier

“It was what held the padlock on my family’s tomb.”

Xavier frowned. “Who would break into a tomb?” His eyes widened. “Was it you?”

She laughed. “Why would I break into the tomb and steal my own family’s reliquary when I could use my grandmother’s key, spare the lock, take the reliquary and resecure the lock afterward? Then no one would be any wiser about who took the relic. I might be a con, but I’m not a fool.”

“I didn’t say you were either,” he said.

Lissette propped her fists on her hips. “In case you missed it, someone has been raiding tombs in the cemeteries of this and neighboring parishes over the past few weeks, stealing ancient relics, plaques and even tombstones. When they took our family’s reliquary, I decided enough was enough. Someone had to do something to bring those stolen items home.”

Something stirred in Xavier’s head. Something that had to do with a conversation he’d overheard that morning. “And that someone had to be you?” he asked, trying to wriggle the hint of a thought loose.

“Yes, and why not?” She crossed her arms over her breasts. “I know how to do things others might not.”

The lights in the shop blinked off for a second. A single candle on the counter provided the only light, besides the light shining through the front window halfway across the room.

“What the hell?” Lissette murmured, just a blur in the dark.

“Might be a surge on the power lines,” Xavier said. “Give it a minute. The power should come back on. In the meantime, what do you mean you know how to do things?” Xavier’s gut tightened. “Things like...?” he said, a little sharper than he’d intended. He felt what she said next could be important.

She stared at him, the whites of her eyes the only bright thing on her face. Then her lids lowered, her face going dark in the shadowy interior of the shop. “What the hell,” she repeated, her voice tighter.

“What?”

“The mark,” she whispered. “It’s burning.”

Xavier sniffed the air. “I don’t smell smoke.”

“You wouldn’t,” she said. “It’s not that kind of burning.”

The overhead lights blinked back on.

Lissette spun and grabbed the candle from the counter. The sudden movement made the flame flicker and go out. She fished matches from a bowl on the counter. After three attempts, she lit a match and held it to the wick. Once it caught, she turned to Xavier.

“What?” he asked, leaning away from the flame.

“Shut up and come with me.” Holding the candle, she took his hand and led him to the back of the shop, then into a supply closet. When she closed the door, they were trapped in darkness, with only the candle to light the way.

This time she held the candle over her opposite wrist. “See that?”

He stared down at her wrist. “See what?”

“The mark,” she said. “Don’t you see the mark?” She shook her head. “It’s there. As plain as day.”

“What are you talking about?” he demanded. “I don’t see a mark.”

She lifted her wrist higher, as if moving it closer to his face would make him see whatever it was she was seeing. “There on my wrist.”

He stared hard. “All I see is skin and a few veins. What mark am I looking for?” he asked, his gaze shifting from Lissette’s wrist to her eyes.

She sank onto a stool and stared at the door, her brow furrowing. “The incantation. Duh,” she said.

“What incantation?” Xavier studied her, more confused than ever.

“It’s all on me. I should have known.” She looked up at him. “Don’t you see?”

“I don’t see anything,” he said. “Tell me.”

Chapter 4