Well, that’s what you wanted.
I know, but I feel like I’m in a college dorm. All that’s missing are the red solo cups.
Sounds like fun.
Sable rolled her eyes.
Sure.
Iactuallyhad another reason besides frat party plans for texting.
Okay?
Word is the Merveille De L’Art hired a new head of security. He’s ex-special forces.
Aren’t they all?
Not like this guy. I don’t know much about him except that he was in the same unit as Cupid.
You mean THE CUPID? Motorcycle riding, vigilante with a bow and arrow, Cupid?
The one and only.
Shit.
I second that.
This just got a lot harder, didn’t it?
I’ll try to learn more about him, but please be careful. You’re the only thief in the game I like.
Sable donned a pair of generic sunglasses as she strode across the street toward the Merveille De L’art Museum. She wore jeans and a nice sweater with her brunette wig loose and wavy down her back. She’d grown her hair out years ago and then chopped it off to make a wig because she liked the idea that the hair on her head wasactuallyhers. Her real locks were currently the same length as the fake, and because it had been specifically designed for her ears, the wig layered naturally with her hair to give her that highly coveted beachy look.
She’d styled her outfit to be respectable, but not memorable. Blue jeans, but not too light or too dark. A pastel sweater that complimented her skin but wasn’t vivid enough to catchanyone’s eye. Matching ballet flats kept her height average, and she’d left her hair long down her back to keep anyone from remembering a unique style. She had no intentions of being noticed today. She had no intentions of getting anywhere close to the egg either. Sable was merely avisitor,and an invisible one at that.
“One general admission, please,” she said to the woman manning the ticket booth.
“Sure thing, hun,” the lady said, and when she turned toward the register, Sable scanned the museum entrance. The Merveille De L’art was a colossal building, ornate and magnificent. The structure was as much a work of art as the masterpieces it housed, and while she longed to marvel at the architecture, the security demanded her attention. Cameras observed every inch of the entrance, and Sable was willing to bet that they weren’t normal lenses. The Fae had power humans didn’t, and she fought the urge to pat her ears below her wig. Could the cameras sense what she was?
“Here you go, hun,” the agent said as she handed her the ticket. “That’ll be Twenty-five dollars, but if you want to see the Precieux Egg, you’ll need to buy additional admission inside. It’s housed in itsownexhibit, but it is worth the extramoney,if you ask me. The egg is so much bigger than it looks on the TV, plus the displays include many of Baptiste Precieux’s personal belongings and lesser works.”
“Thanks, I’ll look into it if I have the time,” Sable lied as she handed over the cash.
“Have a nice afternoon.” The woman waved at her, and Sable smiled as she entered the ornate doorsthat stoodat least fifteen feet tall. She lowered her eyes as she passed the security guards, but the men stationed at the entrance didn’t so much as bat an eye at her. They were both Fae males, their pointed ears sticking out below their hats, and they had no interest in a petite collegestudent enjoying herself. Sable looked young for her age, and while she was long past her college years, she dressed the part, keeping her makeup clean and soft so that people assumed she was still in school. It was amazing what she got away with when people presumed she was a naïve student.
Sable walked inside without incident, and unlike most visitors who made a beeline for the egg, she purposely never looked in its direction. She paused before the life-sized sculptures of the goddesses of love. One for each religion, the artist had spent his career sculpting the set. He famously based the faces on his lovers, the women long lost to time yet immortalized in stone. He’d sculpted many statues over his lifetime, but the goddesses of love were the only ones to survive the earthquake that killed him over a century ago. Many believed the deities had protected their visages, and they’d been housed here ever since. Superstition claimed if you touched the chiseled stones, they would bless your love life, and for a fraction of a second, Sable was tempted to reach out and take Aphrodite’s hand. The statue’s fingers were extended as if begging her to obey the siren’s call, and Sable started to accept when a vaguely familiar figure caught her attention.
She froze, lowering her head until her hair shielded her face, and then she peaked sideways through her locks. She didn’t know the group standing across the room, and thankfully, they hadn’t noticed her. To them, she was nothing but an awe-struck college student, but even if she didn’t know their names, she recognized their movements. She knew immediately what they were doing. They were casing the museum.Seemedshe wasn’t the only thief taking a tour today.
Self-preservation urged Sable to leave and return when it was less‘crowded’, but curiosity got the better of her. If this group had been invited to participate in this year’s heist, they wereobviouslyskilled, so maybe she could learn somethingfrom their research. And if not, perhaps she could sabotage their success.
Sable left the goddess sculptures and slipped into the group of humans taking a guided tour. She was of average height and build for a woman, which made it easy to blend into the crowd, and she fell into step behind a larger gentleman. Thankfully, no one noticed the girl everyone assumed was a curious college student joining the tour halfway through. Sable then focused her false attention on the guide, walking exhibit through exhibit behind her human shield, but she angled her cell phone at the thieves, letting her recording camera app be her eyes. She would study the footage later in case it captured something shedidn’t,because whileshe wasobserving them out of the corner of her eye, she couldn’t make her observation obvious. She was just one woman. If this group found her trailing them as they cased the museum, she’d be in more danger than the gold egg.
“If I may have your attention, please,” the guide said as they stopped before a stone archway. The air below it was pitch black, and even though it stood in the middle of the corridor, it was impossible to see through to the other side. “This archway was built with stones stolen from the Underworld.It’s whythis hallway is locked to unsupervisedvisitors, because it’s rumored that if you speak while walking below the arch, the Underworld will know your voice and mark you as its own. Some believe this is mere superstition. The stones are indeed from the Underworld, but it’s unconfirmed if they deliver your voice to the dead. There are documented cases of individuals who spoke while passing through only to meet their fate shortly after, therefore it’s museum policy that all who pass through must remain silent. So, for those who wish to comply, pleasestep forward andsign the electronic waiver. If youdon’tfeel comfortable, my associate will return you to the lobby since this concludes our tour.”
A second guide stepped through the door they’d just passed through and held it open for the guests who wished to forgo the final exhibit. Most stayed, though, Sable included. She wouldn’t speak, but there was no way she was missing this opportunity.
Everyone waited in a single file line, and when it was Sable’s turn, she clenched her mouth shut and stepped through the blackness. She felt nothing as she walked below the stones, but the moment she exited the dark arch, the rest of the hallway appearedbefore her. She waited for the remainder of the tour to walk through, and together, they started back for the lobby, when something pricked her attention.
