Wolfe was back in his old stomping ground—well, really, he was back in Big Man Grimm’s old stomping ground. His old stomping ground had been a lot poorer, but he had spent a day or two every week in the ritzy, high-priced district where The Ekron Eternal was located.

Which was apparently where all the other high-end pastimes and shopping were located as well.

He eyed the Gavin’s Card sign above him again—it was the same billboard, and the same company, that had been advertising by the back entrance to the Ekron Eternal two years ago when Wolfe had first gotten his deck on drop night. The actual sign had changed, and now showed an evolved orphan Mortal/Angel fighting an Imp Lord, the deckbearer in the background. Not quite as understated as most ads for the card auction company, but still well done.

But Wolfe wasn’t here for cards or for the Ekron Eternal, although he thought it ironic that he was a mere couple blocks from Shel. He had been tempted to park in the Ekron Eternal garage, but didn’t want to chance alerting her to what he was about.

So, he found himself in the parking lot of Michelle’s, the most famous high end jewelry store in Noimoire, if the internet had any idea what it was talking about. It occupied a fairly small storefront, maybe seventy or so feet—which would be big for some places, but felt small for a ‘most famous in—’ type of place.

A low, mournful warble came from the bed of his truck behind him, and Wolfe turned to Cereboo. “I’ll be back, buddy. Just give me a few minutes to get this ring—hang out with Malviere, okay?”

Cereboo warbled again, but settled into the bed as Wolfe walked toward the jewelry store.

There was a man in a suit waiting out front, however, and Wolfe’s eyes automatically tracked to the slight bulge that was likely a gun in a chest holster under the suit. The man’s eyes tracked over Wolfe for a second as Wolfe walked up, but then slid away with disinterest.

Wolfe snorted. Given a choice, he dressed casual, ate casual, and pretty much tried to do everything in a fairly pedestrian manner. He associated upscale things with either his father, whom he still had dark memories of, or Big Man Grimm, who he had once deeply respected but who represented a lifestyle he was trying to leave.

But Wolfe knew what he needed to look like to blend in with the crowd. He had put a suit on, shaved down to the slightest hint of stubble, combed his hair, and put a nice watch on, even though everyone used their phones and the watch was a blatant affectation.

But it was expected, and a nice suit was camouflage. No one suspected the guy in the suit was a criminal, ever, and men like the fancy security guard at the door might as well be blind for all they could see past a man’s clothes.

Wolfe’s sardonic musings were cut short as the man in the suit reached over, grabbed the door, and opened it. “Welcome to Michelle’s, sir. I hope you find what your heart desires.”

Wolfe laughed, running the jingle he had just heard on their website through his head. Michelle’s… where you find her heart’s desire.

Spoken in a husky female voice, of course.

As Wolfe walked into the store, he was confronted by a veritable piece of art, or perhaps the display room of the treasury of a particularly vain deckbearer champion from the medieval era.

The store had almost fifteen-foot-tall ceilings from which hung numerous complex crystal chandeliers. The windows on two of the walls were clear glass, almost floor-to-ceiling but not quite. They had a rounded top and were sub-divided into smaller windows, looking like the stained-glass story windows of a church of Uriel he had once been to, except they were made of clear glass.

But the ceiling and walls paled in comparison to the contents of the floor. Multiple display cases, each layered with ever smaller circles, like a wedding cake, decorated the floor in a honeycomb pattern. And on each of the ostentatious display tables were hundreds of pieces of jewelry, whose prices tags, on the bottom most rung of each display case, started somewhere around ‘this month’s mortgage,’ cruised through ‘or you could have a car,’ and ended on the very top somewhere around ‘would you prefer a legendary card?’

Most of it was diamond jewelry, but by no means all of it.

Along the walls were a group of huge, brooding guards, and wandering the floor were a group of young, beautiful women and a few distinguished looking men. A couple of them were guiding a few old couples, and one douche-bag looking man in his thirties, around the display cases, but most were just waiting.

As Wolfe stared at the insane display of decadence around him, one of the waiting women, who was even more alluring than the jewelry, walked up to him. She had long blonde hair, a lithe, youthful body, and a black dress that was nearly spraypainted on, revealing nothing but hinting strongly at everything all the same.

“May I help you find something, sir?” she asked, her voice more upbeat and perky than Cereboo after the time he had drunk an entire can of Redbull.

Wolfe was a hundred percent into Shel, and had also seen a ton of pretty girls in his life, clothed or otherwise. It still legit took him half a second to tear his gaze from the woman and stare into her face—it took an insane amount of money to look that sexy and not cheap, but she had pulled it off.

But Michelle’s could afford the best. It was well known, whether in Wolfe’s old line of work or the absolute upper ends of the jet set, that a beautiful women moved product fast.

“I, um, I’m looking for an engagement ring,” Wolfe said.

“Excellent, sir!” the woman said, giving him a hundred-watt smile. “What is your price range?”

“Just show me some good rings,” Wolfe growled, irritated with the question.

“Of course, sir, right this way,” the woman said without missing a beat or allowing her smile to falter.

She put her hand on his arm, which Wolfe pulled away from her, and then, again without missing a beat, led him over to the first display table.

This lady is as good at her job as I am at mine, Wolfe thought, tempted to leave for a more accessible store with someone a bit less over-matched against him in selling skills.

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But he didn’t leave. He wanted the best for Shel, and this was apparently where that was found.

He stared briefly at a two-million-dollar necklace. The reasonable best. Pretty sure she’d be mad if I spent that much on a ring anyway.

“Here are our most popular diamond engagement rings,” the girl said, motioning vaguely to the table. “More affordable ones are on the bottom, and the more expensive ones near the top.”

“Uh-huh,” Wolfe said non-committedly.

She just kept going, now pointing to specific pieces. “You’ll find collections from the Summer Flower set, work from Alvond, and even some from Michelle’s very own artists here, on these shelves. Over here we have…”

Wolfe tuned her out, letting her perky voice become little more than elevator music.

He didn’t want a ring because it was brand name or had a famous designer, and didn’t think that would matter to Shel either. Instead, he looked at the rings, trying to feel for one that would be special.

How do you capture the essence of a wonderful, amazing woman whose life you saved, but who in turn gave you a reason to live and grow? Wolfe couldn’t help but wonder. What the hell kind of diamond symbolizes all that?

Each of them had been a pivotal point in the other’s growth, and each had moved on to a near completely new life after finding the other. Not just a new life together, but new ways of doing things, new goals for themselves. Everything had been different.

For both of them, that difference had been pivotal to a better life.

The diamonds, meanwhile, all looked the same to Wolfe. Not literally the same—some were shaped like hearts, some had a huge central stone, some were clusters of smaller ones, and many were surrounded by other stones. The bands were different metals, and different thicknesses.

But it still seemed utterly banal to Wolfe. There was still a sameness. They looked like every stone some enforcer’s girl had shoved under Wolfe’s nose, the same as every commercial Wolfe had ever seen for an engagement ring.

They didn’t match Shel, either in personality or, for that matter, against her coloration—her fiery red hair, her brilliant green eyes.

The lady touched his arm, and Wolfe started, realizing he hadn’t heard her talking for a few seconds. As he tried to run her prattle back through his head, he realized she had asked him a question, from the tone of her last words.

“What?” he asked, wincing.

“I’m sorry, I was asking if these stones are not to your satisfaction,” she asked. “You’ve been frowning at the display the whole time. Perhaps you could give me a bit of guidance into what you’re looking for?”

“Something… different,” Wolfe said, aware of how inadequate that sounded. He tried to clarify. “Different from normal, I mean. Not just different than these stones here.”

She smiled again. “Well, although diamonds are the most preferred main stones for an engagement ring, they are certainly not the only option. A few people prefer other gems. We have small selection of emerald engagement rings, if you’d like to peruse that.”

Wolfe thought back to his earlier musings. At least they’ll match Shel’s eyes.

“Yeah, let’s see those.”

The lady hesitated. “I must warn you, sir, that the emerald engagement rings tend to be a bit pricier, and we have none of the cheapest tier.”

“Did I ask, girl?” Wolfe growled out, immediately irritated at the subtle assertion he might not belong here. “Just take me to the emeralds.”

Again without the tiniest crack in her smile, or the tiniest hesitation, the woman walked smoothly across the floor. “Of course, sir, right this way.”

Wolfe was led past a couple where the wife was oohing and aahing over various pieces of jewelry, and whose husband was typing away on a Blackberry, to one of the massive display tables on the outer edge of the floor. It seemed to be an ‘odds and ends’ table, with multiple smaller collections of jewelry.

“Here is our collection of emerald engagement rings, sir. I hope you find one to your liking.”

Wolfe stared at them. They did feel more ‘right’ to him, but at first, none truly called to him. But as he looked around, he saw one that had the least complex of Raphael’s symbols on it—a heart with dove wings, in this case, all made from tiny emeralds, with a large one set in the center.

“May I see that one, please?” Wolfe asked, pointing.

“An excellent suggestion, sir,” the lady said. “Since Raphael is one of the archangels that is considered a patron of marriage, in its capacity to bring people together and create joy, along with—”

“The ring, please,” Wolfe said, motioning to her.

She took a key from her dress—Wolfe had no idea it could store anything at all, and wasn’t a hundred percent sure where it had come from—and unlocked the case. Then she gently lifted the ring out, like it might get hurt, and handed it to Wolfe.

The band was gold, and the emeralds a brilliant green, not that different from Shel’s eyes.

He looked at the price sticker. Ten thousand dollars, which was half a damned car, but still pretty low for a place like this. He was pretty sure that Shel wouldn’t want to him to actually spend ridiculous amounts of money on a ring anyway.

Although in his soul, he considered even this to be ridiculous for jewelry. But he wanted to do right by Shel.

“Emeralds symbolize hope, loyalty, new beginnings, and transformation, like transforming a single life—"

“They symbolize transformation and new beginnings, specifically?” Wolfe asked. “Seriously?”

She nodded.

“Who decides this stuff?” Wolfe asked.

“I… I don’t know,” the lady said, finally caught a touch flat-footed. Then she rallied. “But it’s been the same associations all three years I’ve worked here, and Michelle’s doesn’t make errors in these matters, sir.”

Good enough.

“I’ll take it,” Wolfe said, fishing in his pants and pulling his wallet out, then taking his debit card from its sleeve and handing it to the bemused lady.

She didn’t take it, just motioning to a counter in the back. “Right this way, sir, and I know you’ll be satisfied with your purchase.”

Wolfe gave her one skeptical eyebrow raise. How could you know that? But he followed her through a veritable dragon’s hoard of jewelry to the back.

She stepped to the counter and pointed to a slightly older but still gorgeous woman with hair almost the same red as Shel’s that was working the back counter. “Taylor will take care of you for this last part. Thank you for allowing me to help you in your search for the perfect ring for your fiancée to be.”

“Uh-huh,” Wolfe said as Taylor wrote something down. After a few more seconds, the first lady left.

Wolfe didn’t talk for a bit, hoping this was good enough for Shel. It felt right, but this whole experience had been way outside Wolfe’s wheelhouse.

“Would you like to donate to the Chosen orphans home?” the lady asked.

“What?” Wolfe replied. “Donate? Like to charity?”

“Yes,” the lady replied. “An orphans home.”

“People are donating to orphans?” Wolfe asked.

Taylor nodded. “It’s been the latest thing in charity, what with the new cards and all from the drop night. A lot of the well-to-do are making that their charity of choice.”

Wolfe had never been much for charity. If he wanted to help someone, he would damn well help someone. He wouldn’t give the money to some bureaucrat who would take most of it on the way to someone else.

Hells, he was paying to raise two near-orphans himself, right now, Shel’s sister Lucy and Mrs. Timo’s granddaughter Shannon. Neither were actually orphans, but since Wolfe housed them, fed them, paid for their schooling, and paid Liam to drive them around, he thought it was good enough for government work.

But… He thought it would be an extra nice gesture for Shel.

“If I pay enough, like another ten thousand, can I get a certificate or something, proof of the money going to help orphans, and put it in my future fiancée’s name?”

Taylor looked taken aback by the request, but she also rallied almost immediately. Decadent or not, Wolfe had to admit this place hired and trained well.

“I’m sure we can make something that will work, sir. And be beautiful to boot.”

***

About twenty minutes later, with the ring in his coat pocket and a certificate in a beautiful filigreed case in his other coat pocket, against his chest, Wolfe walked out of the store, heading for his car.

His phone buzzed, and Wolfe pulled it out.

Shel was calling.

He answered, and his blood went immediately cold. He heard screams and gunshots.

“Shel!? What’s happening?” Wolfe yelled into the phone.

“They’re trying to kill us!” Shel yelled back. “At the Ekron Eternal, they’re trying to kill us all!”

Wolfe burst into speed, running for his car. It’s only three blocks to the Ekron Eternal!

“Who’s trying to kill you?” Wolfe asked as he ran.

“Everyone!” Shel answered.