know where it was situated in the building to travel to it.
“Ready.”
The world blurred for a mere few seconds, darkening, then lightening as the surrounding space settled into place.
She glanced up at Fionn who gave her an encouraging nod.
He’d cast an illusion spell on himself so he’d blend, nondescript, as they moved through the hotel. Rose stayed glued to his side as he walked with confidence down the delivery corridor and out through double doors that led into the public areas of the hotel. As he stepped out into a corridor, signs on the opposite wall directed guests right toward the main reception and left toward the ballroom. Rose reached for his hand.
Fionn jerked away from her and glared.
Ignoring the little pinch of hurt, she glowered back at him. “We’re supposed to be a couple. Couples hold hands.”
He grunted in obvious annoyance and held his hand out to her like it was the last thing he wanted to do.
“What are you? Five?” She slipped her hand into his and ignored the tingles that shot up her arm. He had calluses on his palms, just below his fingers. She briefly wondered what caused them before the feel of him overwhelmed all other thoughts.
His grip on her tightened. “Concentrate,” he reminded her under his breath.
Right.
Concentrate.
They stopped at the concierge and made a fake booking for tour tickets that included a guided tour of La Sagrada Familia—Rose had to stifle a snort. Then they casually walked, hand in hand, toward the signs for the restrooms. Milking the moment, she snuggled into Fionn, curling her free hand over the top of the hand that held hers.
He peered down at her, unamused.
Rose grinned.
His countenance hardened with more than just annoyance; she felt that look all over.
“Didn’t you say you need to use the restroom?” he bit out.
She knew she should act with more solemnity considering the danger they were in, but teasing Fionn distracted her, calmed her, even. Raising their clasped hands to her mouth, she pressed a soft kiss to the top of his hand and then released it. “I’ll be right back.”
With a little swing in her hips, she left Fionn fighting back a scowl of outrage.
Fuddy-duddy, she laughed to herself as she entered the restroom.
Even though she’d checked to make sure there was no one there to see her travel, Fionn had told her to do it from inside a stall. Apparently, Schneider might not be above breaking the law by sticking cameras in the ladies’ room.
Rose locked the stall and leaned her palms against the door, closing her eyes. Taking a deep breath, she visualized the plans for the vault. It wasn’t a huge room, an entirely steel cube with very thick walls. Fionn seemed to have this unshakable belief that she could travel into it.
Called her a natural.
Exhaling long and slow, she chanted inwardly, You can do this, you can do this.
The vault enveloped her entire mind.
Go there. Be there.
Although her eyes were closed and she didn’t move, she felt the door disappear beneath her palms and a chill blast across her skin.
Opening her eyes, Rose grinned.
She was inside the vault. There were four shelves that wrapped around the entire room except for the wall with the door. On the shelves were boxes and artifacts, some with gemstones that sparkled under the LED lights that she knew from the detailed plans didn’t emit heat or UV.
The vault was also kept at a chilly temperature.
She shivered in her T-shirt, glad for her jeans and sneakers at least. Scanning the shelves, she searched for the silver box Fionn had described but stopped when she felt a tingle on the back of her neck.
Slowly turning, she faced the opposite wall and her attention zeroed in on a silver box on the second shelf.
Rose knew it was the one.
The solid silver case had engravings along the bottom half that wrapped around the entire box, depicting Fionn’s story. Carefully taking it off the shelf, she ran her fingers over the etchings. A warrior on a rearing horse with a dagger in one hand, a sword in the other. The same warrior plunging the dagger into an elegant male. The warrior shackled before a beautiful woman. The warrior surrounded by cloaked figures. And finally, the warrior asleep in a tomb, his sword clasped between his hands.
Shivering for a different reason, Rose fought back overwhelming emotion. She felt Fionn’s betrayal like that dagger through her heart. Anger and hurt burned inside her for him.
It made no sense.
How