Nefertiti's Heart (The Artifact Hunters Book 1)
A. W. Exley
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
Cara Devon has always suffered curiosity and impetuousness, but tangling with a serial killer might cure that. Permanently.
1861. Cara has a simple mission in London - finalise her father's estate and sell off his damned collection of priceless artifacts. Her plan goes awry when a killer stalks the nobility, searching for an ancient Egyptian relic rumoured to hold the key to immortality.
Nathaniel Trent, known as the villainous viscount, is relentless in his desire to lay his hands on both Cara and the priceless artifacts. His icy exterior and fiery touch stirs Cara's demons, or could he lay them to rest?
Self-preservation fuels Cara's search for the gem known as Nefertiti's Heart. In a society where everyone wears a mask to hide their true intent, she needs to figure out who to trust, before she sacrifices her own heart and life.
memorised the number from her father's journal. He disappeared into the darkened bay. Cara heard a metallic rummaging noise, and then he reappeared carrying a large safety deposit box. Glancing at the container, she saw the numbers she recited emblazoned on its steel lid. He placed it on a high, central table and pulled the chain of the sole overhead lamp so it descended, casting a brilliant circle of light in the otherwise dreary room. "You have ten minutes, and then I will return." He bowed
the wine glass, while her brain whirled. She wasn't going to entertain him with the lurid details. Was that why he invited her to dinner, for gossip? "I understand the whole of London talked of it for months, and still does at times. There's no need to repeat the story." He took a sip of his wine, meeting her eyes. "I want to hear it in your words, not those of the gossips. I would know the truth of it, and it won't leave this room." She was tempted to stand and leave, to tell him to go to
picked up the fallen crowbar and smashed the dome. Glass shattered, raining over the shelf and the floor. The whirring sound trailed off, and the mechanism fell silent. With a grin, she tossed the crowbar to the ground and stepped over the glass. Moving to the small liquor cabinet, she poured a finger of whisky from the crystal decanter, retrieved the notebook, and then seated herself at the desk. Cara stared at the notebook, the formidable rival for her father's affections. She took a swallow
wanting to track down her father's collection. Every moment she spent under its roof was like drawing a knife blade down her arm. As she moved from room to room, the sharp tip caused her to draw in her breath as invisible steel carved into her skin. She imagined the phantom tears in her flesh leaving droplets of blood wherever she trod. She and the house hated one another. The terrace house had taken too much of her blood and life essence. If Cara possessed the ability, she would have torn down
her. The men stood at the fireplace talking; their heads turned as she entered. They were both dressed casually, tall boots, buckskin pants, simple waistcoats over plain shirts, and no cravats this evening. Nathaniel wore dark tones of grey and blue, Loki in earthier tones. Hungry eyes raked her body from top to toe and Cara belatedly thought perhaps this wasn't such a good idea after all, the three of them pressed into a carriage. Not that the Lyons carriage was small, but Nathaniel hadn't kept