Rosamond Eternal: The Jaguar Key (a shifter fantasy adventure romance)

Ice Queen

The Ice Queen had promised to show Gideon something spectacular. In a steel and glass conference room overlooking LA, she delivered.

Gideon weighed the crystal jaguar skull in his hand. Through a jeweler's loupe, the rubies inlaid in the eye sockets appeared genuine. The workmanship was exquisite. Even still, Gideon Rohitson, golden-haired son of the Red Dragon, couldn't tell whether the skull was imbued with otherworldly power. And that was all that mattered.

When he turned the crystal to examine its underside, his pulse quickened. He ran his thumb over the surface. This wasn't just a ceremonial artifact made to be admired in a temple. The totem had been carried about and used. Wear marks showed where it fit into a shaman's staff. It could be the key to what he wanted most. Vengeance.

Setting the loupe aside, Gideon glanced at the seller across the conference table. He'd dubbed her the Ice Queen because her cold demeanor made him uneasy. She should have been beautiful. Her features taken individually were perfect—large slate-blue eyes, long hair so blond it looked white, and the angular body of a model. On the Ice Queen, the effect proved unsettling. The eyes were a little too sunken, the cheekbones too protruding. She hadn't uttered a word since hello.

"What makes you think this is Tayo's totem?" he asked, carefully disguising his Eastern European accent. He placed the crystal skull in its black, velvet-lined box. With great willpower, he pushed it to the middle of the table.

The seller didn't answer. The lawyers and agents who were gathered around the mahogany conference table held their collective breath waiting for her response.

She shifted her gaze from the crystal skull to the Los Angeles skyline framed in the floor-to-ceiling windows behind him. Gideon could see the same view reflected in the glass of a framed lithograph on the wall behind her.

He'd been too blunt, but he had a right to be skeptical about the skull. The seller's agent asked him to come to this meeting on faith. He'd been drawn in by the tenuous promise that Tayo's totem was the key to the planes of death. Then they'd refused to tell him anything more about the piece. He glanced at the totem. Desire knotted in his chest. He wanted the skull.

Focusing instead on the artwork behind the woman, he waited. A farm worker rested in a cane field, machete in hand. Gideon could almost feel the sweat stinging the brown eyes; taste the sweetness of the cane. The jaguar skull belonged to the same hot, sticky, tropical world.

He lowered his gaze to the Ice Queen. She earned the moniker, remaining frozen like a figure carved from ice. Was anyone home behind those glassy gray eyes? Everyone waited for her explanation.

The broker wore an LA-tight business suit with her hair pulled back into a slick bun. She shifted uneasily in her seat, cast a glance at the Ice Queen seated next to her, then addressed Gideon. "A crystal jaguar skull is a unique find. And of this antiquity—it's never been seen before. I completely understand your skepticism. Will it help you to know that my client led the team that unearthed this treasure in the Andean foothills? We have more than adequate documentation." She passed a heavy folder across the table. "Please, take a look."

About time, Gideon thought. He thumbed through the documents. The file contained far more information than he expected. Of course, none of it could tell him with certainty what he'd get for his money.

He scanned the papers and dealt various pages to his acquisitions agent and his lawyer.

"There is a detailed description of the find, permissions for the dig, contracts, the site log, photographs, and paperwork verifying time, location, witnesses and so forth." With the silence now broken, the representative provided a flood of details. "So you see, it's more than enough to establish provenance and rights."