Roux pointed to the laptop. “Keep your eyes on the auction. I’ll stand at the front window to see if anyone follows the painting. Watch for my signal. We might need to move fast.”
With that, he strode to the front of the café.
I opened my mouth to ask what the signal was, but it was too late.
He peered out the front window, standing at an angle so as not to be seen. We might have been in a Parisian café, but it was easy to picture him peering around the corner of a bombed-out building in a war zone…or stalking prey in a tangled tropical forest.
For the first time, I realized how out of my depth I was.
The live stream showed two men sliding the painting into a crate, then heading for the door. The painting was the size of a small poster, so one man could carry the crate while the other stood guard. Bene entered the antique shop as they exited, which left him in the absurd position of holding the door open for them.
Destiny was definitely messing with us.
I gulped, trying to think fast. When it came to following vampires or hacking into computer systems, I was useless. But I could docunningwhen I had to, and I knew that painting better than anyone.
An idea jumped into my mind. I grabbed the laptop, shoved it into my backpack, and hurried to exit the café.
“What the—” Roux started.
“Trust me,” I murmured, rushing outside.
Gen!he barked into my mind.
I swear, I will not do anything rash, and I won’t get involved,I told him.I just have to be close enough to listen when they go by.
Listen to what?he demanded.
Whoa. Where are you going?my sister chimed in, alarmed.
She and Marius waited a few doors away, ready to follow the deliverymen when they emerged.
Trust me,was all I had time to say.
Kind of a stretch, since I didn’t trust myself. Still, I was on a roll, and it was too late to quit.
I could sense everyone holding their breath, certain another impulsive decision of mine would ruin everything.
And boy, did that sting.
I hurried onward, determined to prove them all wrong.
I jogged across the street to a shop one door down from Chez Robert. When the two men emerged with the painting, heading toward me, I stopped, pretending to study a vintage map in the shop window.
I closed my eyes, straining to hear past the sound of passing cars and pedestrians. At best, I had a few seconds to listen in as they passed, and I had to make that time count.
And — there! I caught the clack of a croquet mallet and the sound of my mother’s laugh. Faint at first, then louder as the men brushed by behind me.
No, not that way,I heard Mina say from the time capsule of the painting. The sound was muffled by the crate but still clear enough.You have to do the gates in order.
Then, bingo! I caught the young boy asking his mother how much longer “this” would take.
Maman, maman, ça va encore durer longtemps?
Thiswhat?I wanted to yell.
The men nearly moved out of range, but I was desperate for more. I drew in my fingers, pulling shadows toward me. My view dimmed — thatlooking out through the inside of a bottlefeeling that came with shadow-weaving — as I followed the men closely, listening in.
The risk paid off, because I heard something I’d missed before. The boy’s mother telling him they were almost done.
