Reed (Nano Wolves #4) - Donna McDonald Page 0,64

back in the cheap motel she’d rented yesterday. Unfortunately, the motel was a four-hour hike out the forest and then an additional sixty-mile drive away from the location of the cave.

Leaving when she’d come so far didn’t make sense and her logical mind insisted that being afraid was totally ridiculous too. After all, couldn’t she just retrieve her flashlight and hiking pack and leave if her concerns grew too large? Who would know about her cowardice but her?

The answer to her internal debate ended up being a resounding ‘no’ to leaving for any reason because something in her stubborn, too-curious DNA wouldn’t let her.

This was the best chance she’d ever have to prove her theories. It might be her only chance.

And God only knew, she loved being proven right. Wouldn’t she enjoy all her peers knowing she’d found something to prove Earth’s pre-history was more advanced than most believed?

Sugar ran her fingers lightly over the glowing box and wiped away several inches of dust and dirt. Two glowing white handprints were on the lid. They were both outlined in tiny blue tubes filled with what appeared to be a circulating liquid of some sort.

“Are you someone’s practical joke or an honest-to-god ancient artifact?” Sugar asked the box. Her surprise at its modern appearance was precisely why ancient people ended up believing in gods.

Wanting the full experience of whatever secrets the box held for her, Sugar pressed her sweaty palms into the handprints. A warm heat stroked across them and made her chuckle. “Gee, that feels nice… and a bit strange. What in the world are you?”

“Genetics validated. Host accepted.”

The cryptic statement echoed loudly inside her brain and also made her laugh. It was like she was starring in her own science fiction movie.

A grin spread across her lips. “Accepted? You accept me? That’s awfully polite of you.”

Sugar giggled about responding back as her hands slid off the handprints and ran possessively over the entire golden surface of her find.

“Well, I accept you too, pretty gold box, because you are going to make me a very rich and famous woman. But just to be clear here, we both know the whole talking-to-me thing is merely a carbon dioxide hallucination I’m having.”

As she stared at it, the lid retracted—or disappeared altogether—Sugar couldn’t be sure which.

Before she could investigate the mechanism supporting such a surprising action, she glanced inside and noticed a long golden dagger glowing up at her from the bottom of the box.

Her fisted hands went into the air as Sugar excitedly hopped around in the dark.

“Yes! I knew it! There really is a blade. It has to be one of Athena the Ancient’s blades. Give the woman her million dollar finder’s fee, people. Move over, Indiana Jones, Dr. Sugar Lee Jennings is a freaking archaeological genius.”

Once she was in control of herself once more, Sugar was vastly relieved when the box didn’t respond to her happy dance over her discovery. The silence in her head hopefully meant her brains cells weren’t dying from poisoned air at a galactic rate after all.

Elation to see an actual blade resting in the box pushed her earlier fears aside. Sugar grinned as she lifted the golden blade from its home. Rather than looking like an actual weapon, the glowing golden dagger instead resembled a ritual athame. There were no edges on the blade sharp enough for cutting. But there was a strange vibration against her hand as the lights on it pulsed in the darkness.

Sugar brought the artifact closer to inspect it. In the light of its soft glow, she could see strange markings covered nearly every inch of the gleaming metal surface.

Was it truly gold? It certainly looked like it. But what if it was a new type of metal—an ancient alloy of some sort?

Rather than take time to retrieve her flashlight from the floor to get a better look, Sugar decided to return the blade to the box and head outside with her treasure.

“Lord, please be a dusty blade. I can’t wait to try and carbon date you,” she told the gleaming object in her hand.

Still gripping the blade’s handle, she ran a free finger over what seemed to be a symbolic language etched in the surface. Her action must have triggered something because the light being emitted from the marks suddenly changed from a soft glowing gold to a pulsating, iridescent green.

What had to be a million tiny lights began to dance under the top layer of what looked like transparent