Chapter Sixteen #2
A familiar old ache settled into my chest — especially at the irony. My father used to joke that the enemies he’d made in search of missing art would get him someday, but he’d died in an ordinary accident on an extraordinarily slippery road.
I bit my lip. What if fate was giving me a chance to finish what he’d started? What if I could right one small wrong in a complex, unfair world?
A list of crimes I could be convicted of paraded through my mind. Trespassing. Stealing. Art trafficking across international borders.
Steer clear. Stay away, I told myself.
The kitchen door was only a few steps away. All I had to do was amble over there, erase the past few minutes from my mind, and continue living a quiet, happy, and crime-free life.
I glanced at Marius and amended that to quiet, lonely, and crime-free.
His eyes bored into mine, warning me away…from their mission, or from him?
“Mina…” Roux said more gently. “I mean it. You don’t want to be part of this.”
After one last look at Marius, I found myself jumping to my feet and calling over my shoulder.
“Meet me in the drawing room in two minutes.”
“Meet you…?” Roux’s question faded under the thump of my footsteps. I raced upstairs and into the library, past the box I’d found in the stable and over to the shelf I needed.
I crouched, running a finger along the spines of the big books near the bottom. Diamond-shaped stained-glass windows lined the front wall of the library, casting colored blocks over the books.
And, bingo! I grabbed the book I needed and ran to the drawing room exactly as the men filed in.
Thumping the book on a table, I flipped through the worn pages, many marked by scraps of paper with notes in my father’s tight, slanted script. Eventually, I found the page I wanted and pointed.
“Van Gogh’s The Painter on the Road to Tarascon.”
Everyone leaned in.
Destroyed in a blaze, 1945, the caption said, but the sticky note my father had added beside it listed several plausible leads.
“Mina…” Roux warned.
Ignoring him gave me childish pleasure. I gestured for Bene’s phone. He hesitated, looking at Roux, who finally relented with a huff.
I zoomed into the painting on Bene’s phone, comparing it to the one in the book.
“Hard to tell, but it’s definitely a contender,” I said more to myself than them.
“It hardly matters if it’s real or a forgery,” Henrik said. “If Gordon wants it, we get it.”
“It matters to me,” I said so fiercely, he backed away.
Marius gently closed the book and handed Bene’s phone back. “You really don’t want to be part of this, Mina.”
“I have to be.”
Roux shook his head. “No, you don’t. Think about it.”
I shook my head vehemently. “I have thought about it. I’m in, Roux.”
“Thanks for the offer, but no. Not an option.”
It was Henrik, of all people, who sided with me.
“Maybe it is an option,” he mused, stroking his chin.
“No, it isn’t,” Roux insisted.
“We let Mina in on this in exchange for her letting us finish out our contract here,” the vampire said.
Roux opened his mouth to protest, then shut it again.
“Too dangerous,” Marius growled.
Bene tilted his head from side to side. “Maybe, but do you want to be the one to explain to Gordon why she’s kicking us out?”
Marius frowned but didn’t waver. “Still too dangerous.”
“I agree,” Roux chimed in.
I scowled at them both, but Henrik beat me to it.
“Oh, I think she’s capable of making up her own mind.”
I stared at him, every suspicion aroused.
When he grinned, the sharp points of his fangs interrupted the smooth line of his lips.
“Besides, she could be useful.”
My enthusiasm waned. Useful to a vampire? In what way?
“As a distraction, I mean,” he elaborated.
“He has a point there,” Bene mused.
“How?” Roux frowned.
“Getting in,” Bene said. “Every infiltration operation has two options, right? Going in through the front door or the back door.” He pointed to me. “With her, we can do both.”
I crossed my arms. “That better not be some kind of dirty sex talk.”
Bene’s eyes lit up, and he tsked. “Naughty, naughty. Not meant that way, but I like how you think.”
I put my face in my hands. Another day of these imbeciles and I would break.
“Just ignore him,” Henrik murmured. “That’s what the rest of us do.”
“Gee, thanks,” Bene protested.
“Bene!” Roux snapped. “Get to the point.”
“Well, this Baumann guy is throwing a party, right?”
Roux nodded curtly. “So?”
Bene pointed to me. “So, we put her in a nice dress, do up her hair—”
“Hey,” I grumbled. I was a person, not a Barbie doll.
Bene went on, unperturbed. “And she waltzes through the front door with the rest of the guests. I mean, with one of us as her gentleman companion.” He grinned and smacked his chest. “I nominate me.”
“Forget it,” Marius snarled.
But Bene did not forget it. “I can totally pull off a tux. Can you?”
Frankly, my mouth watered a little at the prospect of any of them in a tux. Especially Marius, who was sure to give the outfit a sinfully good, dark and dangerous look. Probably not the best way to sneak into a party unnoticed, though.
“The rest of you losers go in through the back with the catering team, and bam!” Bene smacked his hands together. “We make off with the painting.”
“That easy, huh?” Roux muttered.
“No, but it’s not a bad start.” Henrik cut in.
Bene grinned from ear to ear. “See? Even the vampire agrees.”
Not exactly comforting. Still, my mind was made up, for better or worse.
The corner of my eye twitched with a foreboding of worse. But, hell. I would be surrounded by three tough shifters and a vampire. They would protect me, right?
Marius’s eyes blazed, swearing he would.
Worst case, I could count on Gordon’s help. He wasn’t supposed to know I was there, but in a life-and-death situation, he would help first and berate me later. I hated to count on his help, but the painting made the risk worth it.
Roux considered for another minute, then sighed. “Okay. Here’s the deal. We let you in, and you let us stay. Not a word to Gordon about anything. Deal?”
“Deal.” I nodded firmly, letting the word echo through the room.