Medusa's Dagger (Aya Harris Collection 1)

Gideon’s chuckling shook his body. He grimaced at the monkey. “Isn’t a kiss supposed to wake these kinds of things up? Like the frog prince?”

I held the monkey up to him. “I don’t know. Why don’t you give it a try?”

Our laughter was cut off by our host’s disapproving grunt and clearing of his throat. I guiltily turned and tucked the monkey close to my side.

“Thank you for your time. We’ll just be going.”

He nodded, his head barely moving, and extended a long thin arm toward the exit. I shuffled past him and into the halls filled with the remainders of Mrs. DeFleur’s life. We had almost made it to the door when I felt Gideon jump. He yelped and backed against a pile of boxes, sending them tumbling. I turned to see him pointing at the floor.

“What is it?” I jumped to his side, ready for a fight.

“Spider!”

Squinting in the dusty darkness, I could see a large eight-legged bug scurrying across the floor. It disappeared behind a wooden rocking chair. Gideon sucked in his cheeks and steadied himself, brushing imaginary dirt off the front of his suit. He looked up at me while he restacked the boxes, as if daring me to laugh.

“I wasn’t going to say anything…”

The grin on my face said otherwise, so I backed away slowly before he could glare at me again. It was nice to know the smooth and confident Agent Ward had a weakness. Even if that weakness was tiny and harmless. Everyone had their kryptonite.

We slid into the taxi’s back seat, the stuffed monkey sitting between us. I stared out the window as suburbia morphed into the bustling urban city. This short trip had been a welcome distraction from the earlier events of the week, but Michelle and her boy were still out there. I couldn’t keep my mind from constantly wondering where they were. I had the feeling Gideon was thinking the same thing. He stared out the opposite window, his hands in tightly balled fists.

The taxi hit a bump and the monkey prince flew into the air. Gideon and I both reached out to catch him, successfully nabbing him before he hit the ground. I placed him back between us, keeping my hand on the pedestal to steady him for the rest of the trip.

“Why do you work in that kooky museum?” He frowned at the monkey. “I know you went to school. You could do anything. But you work there?”

I smiled. He wasn’t the first to ask me that question.

“I don’t know. I guess it just feels like the home I never had. I accepted the position there straight out of college because I was desperate for a job. But now, I don’t know if I ever want to leave.”

My first day at the museum hadn’t exactly gone smoothly. Angel didn’t like me coming in to order her around, and the museum had been disorganized and dirty. But eventually, Angel warmed up to me and I got to dictate every little detail of the displays. It felt great having control over something in my life for once.

“I love the stories and the history of all the pieces in my museum,” I continued.

Gideon watched me, his hazel eyes unblinking.

“What we have there, it’s special. Even if our collection is kooky and flawed and sometimes dangerous... I love it. And I love every piece. Even Roni. I really do.”

He nodded and bit his lower lip in thought. For a change, I didn’t feel judged or ridiculed by the question. Gideon seemed truly curious about the museum. I didn’t have to defend myself for wanting to work there.

“Why did you join the Supernatural Investigations?”

I would bet anything someone in Gideon’s family was an SI agent. Those kinds of things seemed to span generations.

He traced a finger along the seam of the driver’s seat. “My dad was an agent.”

Bingo, I was right.

“He retired five years ago to travel around the world with my mom. I’ve always wanted to go into the SI, even as a small kid.” He looked at me, a sad smile on his face. “I thought that by joining the SI, I’d get to do a lot of good in this world. Put away the bad guys. Save the beautiful women.” He winked at me, although I could see his heart wasn’t in the humor. “But some days, I regret it.”

I didn’t know what to say, so I chewed on the end of my thumbnail. While I knew what regret felt like, I was glad to say I didn’t feel that way in my choice of career. The museum had been too good to me.

“I don’t know. It’s cases like these that leave me feeling weak. Like I’m no good at my job.” He looked down again. “We’ve got no leads other than this Theo guy, and no idea where he’s keeping his victims. I have no clue where Nicolo’s hiding or how to get to him. Maybe I should’ve become an architect or an engineer or something other than an agent. Maybe then, I would’ve been able to sleep at night.”

I couldn’t imagine the weight on Gideon’s shoulders. Every case he worked probably took a piece of him with it. The horrors of being an SI agent were never talked about. Even my mother had her own horror stories that she kept locked inside. Fighting the bad guys came with a cost. In the real world, after a fight, Superman came home with baggage. He’d be scarred and beaten. He didn’t always win. And sometimes. he was broken beyond repair. That was reality.

Slipping my hand into Gideon’s, I squeezed it and held tight. He returned the squeeze, looking up at me.

“I’m afraid, Aya,” he said, swallowing hard. “I’m afraid that we’re running out of time.”