The Collector | 18+

【01】Lost and Found

His head turned toward me, his eyes inquisitive. "What?"

"Henry..."

"What?!"

"Henry!"

"Mila, use your words, would you?"

"I need—" I stopped, too excited to think properly, and hurried toward the door. "I have to get something in the office!"

"What is happening!"

"If I'm right, this is the best day ever! Get it to your lab!"

I was already out in the hallway, too frenzied to calm down and explain. Because we couldn't waste a second, and because I suspected he wasn't taking me seriously, I forced myself to turn around, though, and returned to the door. When I tilted my head through the frame, I found Henry still where I had left him, immobile.

"Henry, now!" I urged. "Take the sword to your lab and I'll join you there."

I practically ran all the way to the Britain and Europe department, where my shared office was located, only slowing down when I crossed someone, greeting them with a nod before hurrying again. If I was right, and if my memory wasn't playing tricks on me, then this sword could be the biggest, most insane finding of my entire career. Even though I was only twenty-five years old and three years into the job. It was almost impossible to keep my excitement under control.

When I burst into the office, my boss, Ian, and my colleague, Ingrid, turned my way with surprised glances. They were at their respective desks, working on their computers, so I offered them a wince to apologize for the interruption. Both of them were very laid-back, though, so I knew I hadn't truly bothered them, but rather startled them.

Ian was a tall and broad Scot like only the Highlands could produce. He was a little old-school in some aspects of the job, but overall, he was open to new ideas and new things. Twice a week, he gave lectures at the UCL Institute of Archaeology, which was where I'd first met him. He'd been one of my role models ever since that day; I aspired to have a career like his. He also reminded me of my father a lot, and he was aware of that; the bond we had resembled a father-daughter one, rather than being boss and employee.

As for Ingrid, she'd arrived five years before me, straight from Oslo. She looked the part, with her blonde hair, pale skin, blue eyes, and tall figure. Her knowledge of Viking culture rivaled both mine and Ian's. She was our Scandinavian folklore encyclopedia, thanks to her insane memory. She was a little shy and rarely expressed herself, which was a shame because I adored her accent.

I went straight to my desk and lifted a messy pile of papers to find what I sought.

"Mullins' secretary called. He wants to see you, Mila," Ian explained.

Even though I'd done nothing wrong, knowing that the museum's director had asked after me triggered some worries.

"Right now?" I ask.

"Well, it sounded urgent."

Crap. I was on the verge of making the biggest discovery of my career, and my boss wanted to see me? Terrible timing.

I nodded, forcing a smile on my face, and made my way to the upper floor and the Director's office. The entire way there, I did my best to breathe and calm down. It was alright. The sword wasn't going anywhere.

During the elevator ride, I checked myself in the tall mirror, hoping I wouldn't look too tired. My hair was fine, flowing in dark waves on my back and over my shoulders. My silky beige shirt wasn't crumpled, and the skinny jeans it was tucked into were my second favorite, so, nice ones. My dark brown eyes weren't as lively as they used to be, because I'd been anxiously anticipating the delivery of the crates, which had made sleep hard to come by. I fixed my tired state by pinching my cheeks hard to bring up some color to my face. It wouldn't last long on my olive skin, but it was better than nothing.