and raked a hand through his hair. His gaze traveled around Ana’s cabin, half of him hoping the skins would just be lying out in the open.
The living room looked like a picture from a magazine. Which is to say it looked expensive and unlived in. The dark leather couch he’d hidden his skin behind didn’t have the lines and indentations one usually saw in furniture outside a showroom. The rug in the middle of the floor with it’s blue and white Native design was still thick and plush, with no track worn through the middle. It was like Ana didn’t spend any time in this room at all.
He walked around the room, his eyebrows rising as he recognized some of the art. A beautiful landscape portraying a frozen brook surrounded by snow laden stones and bushes glowed on the wall directly across from the door. The caption confirmed his suspicion, labeling the painting as “Buttermilk” by Rod Weagant . The small table next to the leather couch held a sculpture of a spotted seal. Brec would have bet his right arm it was a piece by Alvin Aningayou . Both were Alaskan artists and both pieces were worth several thousand dollars.
“A trust fund baby, most likely,” Brec murmured. He shook his head in disgust. “Probably explains why she has no empathy for the lives she’s ruined. I doubt she thinks beyond herself in any matter.” He glanced at the pixie, his eyes widening slightly when he found Nu perched on the back of the Aningayou statue. “Maybe she’s using the skins for decoration. Or as trophies.”
Nu frowned. “There weren’t any in her room.”
“Except for mine,” Brec reminded him. Unable to resist looking at the spot where his skin was hidden, he shuddered at the thrill of fear and anger that sparked inside of him. He could still feel the burning fury that had scalded him when he entered Ana’s bedroom and found her sleeping under his skin. The miserable thief had actually been smiling in her sleep, nestling under his skin as if it were an expensive blanket she’d bought with mommy and daddy’s money.
He stared at where his skin lay hidden. He wanted to go back to the sea.
“She’s not all bad. Look at this.”
Brec turned and saw Nu inside the drawer to the little end table. He was lifting the front cover of a large black book, staring down at some sort of photo and newspaper clipping. Brec walked over and peered inside.
“‘Ana Vulpe Donates $50,000 to the Sierra Club,’” he read aloud. He shrugged. “So what, she throws some of her fortune at charity. Maybe it makes her feel better about what a lousy person she is.”
“Don’t be in such a hurry to judge her,” Nu snapped. “You don’t even know her.”
“But you do, is that right?” Brec challenged. He stepped up to tower over the pixie, studying the little fey’s indignant face. Nu’s earlier words echoed in his mind. “I have a debt to repay and I’m not leaving until I’ve repaid it.”
“Why are you looking at me like that?” The pixie’s eyes narrowed with suspicion as Brec turned his full attention to him.
“You said you owe Ana a debt. You also knew about the other skins she stole. Now you’re trying to convince me she’s not a bad person. Exactly how do you know Ana? How do you know about what she did?” His eyes widened as a thought occurred to him and he darted forward so fast Nu squeaked and leapt into the air, flying out of reach. “You know where the skins are, don’t you?”
Nu crossed his arms, his eyes looking sad despite his defiant posture. “I’ve sworn not to reveal their location.”
Furious, Brec swiped at the pixie, growling as the little fey darted further out of his reach. “You little pest,” he hissed. “You could end a lot of misery and you choose instead to align yourself with a thief who just barely escapes the label of murderer. How could you leave those people to suffer?”
“Keep looking, Brec,” Nu said
The living room looked like a picture from a magazine. Which is to say it looked expensive and unlived in. The dark leather couch he’d hidden his skin behind didn’t have the lines and indentations one usually saw in furniture outside a showroom. The rug in the middle of the floor with it’s blue and white Native design was still thick and plush, with no track worn through the middle. It was like Ana didn’t spend any time in this room at all.
He walked around the room, his eyebrows rising as he recognized some of the art. A beautiful landscape portraying a frozen brook surrounded by snow laden stones and bushes glowed on the wall directly across from the door. The caption confirmed his suspicion, labeling the painting as “Buttermilk” by Rod Weagant . The small table next to the leather couch held a sculpture of a spotted seal. Brec would have bet his right arm it was a piece by Alvin Aningayou . Both were Alaskan artists and both pieces were worth several thousand dollars.
“A trust fund baby, most likely,” Brec murmured. He shook his head in disgust. “Probably explains why she has no empathy for the lives she’s ruined. I doubt she thinks beyond herself in any matter.” He glanced at the pixie, his eyes widening slightly when he found Nu perched on the back of the Aningayou statue. “Maybe she’s using the skins for decoration. Or as trophies.”
Nu frowned. “There weren’t any in her room.”
“Except for mine,” Brec reminded him. Unable to resist looking at the spot where his skin was hidden, he shuddered at the thrill of fear and anger that sparked inside of him. He could still feel the burning fury that had scalded him when he entered Ana’s bedroom and found her sleeping under his skin. The miserable thief had actually been smiling in her sleep, nestling under his skin as if it were an expensive blanket she’d bought with mommy and daddy’s money.
He stared at where his skin lay hidden. He wanted to go back to the sea.
“She’s not all bad. Look at this.”
Brec turned and saw Nu inside the drawer to the little end table. He was lifting the front cover of a large black book, staring down at some sort of photo and newspaper clipping. Brec walked over and peered inside.
“‘Ana Vulpe Donates $50,000 to the Sierra Club,’” he read aloud. He shrugged. “So what, she throws some of her fortune at charity. Maybe it makes her feel better about what a lousy person she is.”
“Don’t be in such a hurry to judge her,” Nu snapped. “You don’t even know her.”
“But you do, is that right?” Brec challenged. He stepped up to tower over the pixie, studying the little fey’s indignant face. Nu’s earlier words echoed in his mind. “I have a debt to repay and I’m not leaving until I’ve repaid it.”
“Why are you looking at me like that?” The pixie’s eyes narrowed with suspicion as Brec turned his full attention to him.
“You said you owe Ana a debt. You also knew about the other skins she stole. Now you’re trying to convince me she’s not a bad person. Exactly how do you know Ana? How do you know about what she did?” His eyes widened as a thought occurred to him and he darted forward so fast Nu squeaked and leapt into the air, flying out of reach. “You know where the skins are, don’t you?”
Nu crossed his arms, his eyes looking sad despite his defiant posture. “I’ve sworn not to reveal their location.”
Furious, Brec swiped at the pixie, growling as the little fey darted further out of his reach. “You little pest,” he hissed. “You could end a lot of misery and you choose instead to align yourself with a thief who just barely escapes the label of murderer. How could you leave those people to suffer?”
“Keep looking, Brec,” Nu said
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